#sex offender lawyer

[wksexcrimes]

Everything You Need To Know About Pornography Laws in California 

Learn about the laws in California that deal with pornography. Knowing the legal consequences of distributing or viewing pornographic material in the state is important to avoid legal trouble and understand what is allowed and what is not.

[coochiequeens]

A man who asexually abused his daughter began to identify as a woman behind bars and now he will be released after serving less than half his sentence. And he will be released not just with a woman’s name but of the name of a woman well known for defending women’s rights.

A woman who endured years of sexual abuse at the hands of her father has had her pleas to stop his early release from a UK prison denied. Ceri-Lee Galvin, 24, was sexually abused for nine years beginning from the age of eight by Clive Bundy. In 2016, Bundy was sentenced to 15 years in prison for his crimes, which included recording the assaults and sharing them online with other pedophiles.

Disturbingly, it was recently revealed that Bundy had begun identifying as transgender and had adopted the name Claire Fox while in prison. Bundy has now been approved for parole after serving seven years in prison – less than half of his original sentence, and a shorter time than the nine years of abuse Galvin suffered. Bundy will be released as a “woman.”

In March, Member of Parliament for Telford Lucy Allenmentioned Bundy’s case in the House of Commons while calling for convicted sex offenders to be barred from changing their names to evade the law. Allen used the details of Galvin’s ordeal while anonymizing her name as as “Joanna.” But the next month, Galvin revealed herself and issued a statement to the press condemning the decision to evaluate her father for parole under a new identity.

On May 4, Galvin submitted a statement to the parole board responsible for the decision in an attempt to appeal for reconsideration on the grounds that Bundy had not been rehabilitated and as such, the decision was “irrational and unreasonable.” 

She decided to contest her father’s release from prison despite herself having been denied legal counsel, which would have been beneficial in lodging her formal objection. 

Speaking with Reduxx, Galvin said: “I was told that one of the reasons I could contest his release was if the parole hearing was unlawful. But I don’t know if it was unlawful, because I wasn’t given any representation.”

On May 3, in a desperate effort to keep the public informed on what was happening, Galvin released a statement to social media imploring the parole board re-evaluate their decision to release her father.

“I am contesting the parole board decision to release this serious sexual offender because I am incredibly concerned that the true risk factors of releasing this offender have not been considered,” she wrote. Galvin pointed out that Bundy had declared his new “identity” in early 2022, following an altercation with another inmate in 2021. 

“The altercation was considered sufficiently serious, which immediately stopped the consideration of a release into an open prison. Shortly after this altercation, the offender decided to change his identity, including his full name, completely disguising his former identity. The parole board has not connected these two events,” Galvin asserted.

“Further, the parole board has not considered the risk the new identity creates… This new identity would enable the offender to disguise his criminal record from society, making it easier to reoffend,” she added.

She also emphasized that her father had not been sufficiently rehabilitated and therefore elevates the risk that he may reoffend upon release. Bundy, Galvin says, wasn’t required to attend any accredited sexual offender programs, nor has he.

“How could a man who admits to finding children sexually attractive, and who has absolutely no regard for what the consequences are of abusing children, not be eligible for offender behavior programs, and then be considered for release?” she said.

Galvin further explained that as a result of this, his predatory behavior had become normalized in his mind and he seemed to be without remorse or understanding of the impact his abuse had on his family.

In the parole board’s decision, it was said that the circumstances of Bundy’s offending had been taken into consideration, and the suggestion was made that because he had targeted a family member, he would not pose a threat to other children.

Galvin objected to this assessment: “The board appears to have formed the view that an offender with a long record of targeting his own child for his own sexual gratification will not target children outside of his own family. Upon sentencing, the defense lawyer told the judge that ‘he kept it within his family and therefore was not a risk to the community.’ This was a flippant, ill-considered statement and was dismissed as such by the trial judge.”

But, despite her effort, on May 5, Galvin announced that her father’s release had been granted. Galvin said that she had been warned by her Victim Liaison Officer (VLO) that her objection to her abuser’s release would not be considered.

“I submitted at quarter-past four in the afternoon. I received the response just after ten in the morning the next day. In my eyes, that’s not even two working hours that they had considered my statement. That took me so much courage and so much thought to write, and it felt like, ‘Well, we don’t have to look at it, so we’re not going to,'” she told Reduxx.

In a chilling twist, the new identity Bundy has chosen for himself – Claire Fox – is the name of a female politician known for calling attention to safeguarding risks posed by gender identity ideology. Galvin, who describes her father as “manipulative,” does not believe this is a coincidence. 

At the beginning of May, after The Daily Mail initially reported on Galvin’s situation and her father’s feminine name was published for the first time, Claire Regina Fox, Baroness Fox of Buckley wrote of how she was astounded to learn that “a convicted pedophile ripped off my name.”

Fox, who is a writer and lecturer, sits in the House of Lords for the Independent Party where she has used her position to oppose gender identity ideology. In an interview with Compact, Fox said she was “outraged” upon hearing that Bundy had taken her name.

“One commentator suggests that sex offenders, specifically pedophiles, select the names of well-known people so that an internet search will only turn up the famous person, and not them. Ceri-Lee suspects that it is no coincidence that he opted for a parliamentarian like me, who has argued that transgender activism endangers free speech and women’s rights. In other words, this is some sort of trolling,” Fox said.

However, Fox emphasized that Galvin was “the real victim” in the situation, and that identity theft can act as a cover for abuse. Due to legal restrictions surrounding names changes conducted on the basis of a gender identity, Galvin was only informed of her father’s new name because he had granted authorities permission to do so. Had he decided to withhold this, she may never have known that he had changed his identification.

Moreover, in an effort to protect her abuser, she was not permitted to know which prison he had been held in during his sentence, despite being a student paramedic who might potentially receive a call to a correctional facility.

Galvin told Reduxx that she is incredulous at the way her rights have been continuously neglected during the ordeal. 

“It’s rubbish, because he has served less years than I was abused for, and I am still suffering now. The abuse didn’t stop just because he was arrested. I’m constantly reliving the memories of what he put me through, and trying to build relationships on completely broken trust. It doesn’t end. I’m nearly 25 and still having nightmares.”

She believes that since she has announced his new name to the media, he may choose to alter his identity again – but this time, without informing her. To make matters worse, Bundy will now be granted access to female-only spaces where young girls may be present under vulnerable circumstances due to his gender change.

“I have accepted my fate. The only trouble with me is, I will not be quiet. I will shout. I will do everything that I can to fight for something that I believe in. This doesn’t have to be somebody else’s fate. I want this law changed that allows serious criminals and sex offenders are able to hide behind ��gender identity.’ I want victims to have equal rights.”

According to recent figures from a Freedom of Information Request submitted by the BBC, over 700 sex offenders have gone “missing” since changing their names through the process of deed poll, which takes approximately 15 minutes to complete, in the period between 2019 – 2021. 

One lawmaker responsible for streamlining the system to ensure that trans-identifying individuals are not “outed” to the public is a man who himself identifies as a woman. Judge Victoria McCloud is Britain’s most senior public figure to have claimed a transgender identity and has been celebrated as a pioneer by LGBT campaigners.

By Genevieve Gluck

Genevieve is the Co-Founder of Reduxx, and the outlet's Chief Investigative Journalist with a focused interest in pornography, sexual predators, and fetish subcultures. She is the creator of the podcast Women's Voices, which features news commentary and interviews regarding women's rights.

[lawyerstevenkbloom]

Sexual Assault - Orange County's #1 Rated Criminal Lawyer

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[johnbrand]

(βΓΦ)'s Improper Disposal

Chase grunted as the cooler once again hit the back of his leg. “Dude, why does this thing have to be so heavy?”

“What, all those hours in the gym not paying off?” Tony chuckled. Then the offender in question hit his own knee. “Ow! Dang you weren’t kidding.”

“I told you, bro.” Chase and Tony continued down the dock. “What is in this thing anyway?”

“It’s what’s left of the Beta Gamma Phi Sex Drive,” Tony answered. They carefully navigated down the steps onto the private beach north of the city. 

“Why do they call it a ‘Sex Drive’ anyway?” Chase frowned, but after a moment the pun clicked. Then he continued, “But those initiates were guzzling those drinks like it was their last party ever. How is it still this heavy?”

“This is just the leftovers, bro.” Tony responded. “It’s not like we had them drinking straight jizz, it was just the catalyst in the formula. And we collected for almost a month–Chris had us producing every day, he even measured who contributed the most.”

“You’re kidding,” Chase guffawed, most of the intellectual words soaring over his head.

The two frat boys dropped the cooler as they approached the shore, the cold water lapping at their bare feet. Without further ado, they flipped the container open, watching as the thick white splooge was emptied into the ocean. The waves softly accepted the gift, washing away the mixed jock juices and integrating them into their southbound current.

“So that’s it, huh?” Chase broke the silence once the inside of the cooler was clean. "Is it ok for us to just be dumping it out like this?"

“Yup,” Tony replied, closing the lid. “The water is supposed to dilute it or something, so we won’t have to worry about ‘improper disposal of hazardous waste,’ or whatever βΓΦ’s lawyer said.”

A rancid fart escaped Chase’s back end. “Huhuhuh, speaking of hazardous waste…”

———

“Stop!” Eli could not stop himself from laughing as Simon continually splashed him with water. Of course, he delivered defensive waves back to his best friend, meaning both were struggling to catch their breaths under the onslaught.

“You first!” Simon countered, unbothered as the salty sea stung his eyes, went up his nose, and slipped into his mouth.

Eli licked his lips, “Never!” Although there were plenty of other people of all shapes, ages, colors, and sizes at the beach, the two were not making enough of a scene for anyone to care.

They continued like this for another minute before agreeing to a truce. Once they had finally stopped to take a breath, the pair did nothing but wade in the open water. About a foot taller than his best friend, Eli’s feet could barely scrape the bottom almost six and a half feet below them. But unlike Eli, Simon's skinny, shrimpy body meant he could float with little effort.

“Should we head in?” Eli finally asked, his heart rate having returned to a normal pace.

Simon nodded, “Sure.”

The best friends turned towards the shore and began to paddle in. Neither noticed that within the first few moments, their legs began to twitch. Simon’s shot out within the water, while Eli’s already long tendons shortened slightly. Each stroke brought additional changes. Simon’s abdominals became more pronounced, Eli’s biceps and triceps inflated with muscle. Eli’s hands restructured into fleshy mitts, Simon’s feet widened out into massive flippers. 

But these changes were not unique to just one or the other; they happened simultaneously to both of the men. Each was becoming more muscular and more masculine. Their bodies had ingested the combined DNA of many βΓΦ brothers, every individual strand rewriting the former base and taking control of the resulting figure. This meant they both gained smooth, Ken doll-like tanned skin. They both gained fluffier hair that coiffed naturally at the front (even if Eli’s was hidden behind a white cap, which rotated 180 degrees as if it too was part of a genetic code). And they both gained longer, girthier cocks that would reroute their blood flow, which in turn would reroute their objectives and priorities.

Once they had made it to shore, Eli and Simon had become fraternal twins, and not only in their new dedication to Beta Gamma Phi. The superior DNA bonded them at a molecular level, their brothers’ musculature and masculinity recreating them as Ethan and Shawn. They both accepted their new destinies: to become a βΓΦ brother, with a duty to uphold traditional masculinity and a responsibility to keep the fraternities alive.

And luckily for Ethan and Shawn, they were not alone, for the shore was soon swarmed with many other young, strapping men ready to dedicate their lives to the βΓΦ brotherhood.

[gretavangroupie]

Still, Us

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 30.7k

Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Begging, Heartbreak, Sadness, Crying, Talks of Marriage, Touching, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Masturbation, and More.

Listen to the Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A/N: Wow this has been a long time coming. Sorry that I have been a little bit MIA lately, it was never my intention, life got crazy! I hope you will accept this as an apology. I have poured into this for weeks and I truly couldn’t have done it without the constant support from @gretavanmoon and @jakeyt. They have given me the drive to keep going even when I felt like giving up. This story would not have happened without them. Period. Anyway, I hope you like it and will accept my apology for being away so long. I have so much more planned for you all and I cannot wait to deliver. As always thank you so much for every comment, like, and reblog. It means so much to me to know that you enjoy my writing. ❤️

Frankenmuth, Michigan 

May 2014

“Jake, can you please turn it down just a little bit?” you plead, your feet propped up on the dashboard, and your hand hanging leisurely out the car window. The warm air feels magical as it glides through your fingers. You’d both been waiting for the warmer weather to blow through town and it was finally here.

You turn to look at Jake, his brown shaggy hair finally growing out like he wanted, just barely dusting over the tops of his shoulders now as it blows around him in the wind. 

“Turn down ‘Shooting Star’? Bad Company? Come on Pops, you know that’s not gonna happen,” he smirks, looking at you over the tops of his wayfarers. “This is like the story of my life.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head as you smile, watching him dramatically mouth the words to you as you coast up 83 towards your house. Jake is your best friend, has been for ten years now, and as you readied yourself for college life, he continued to pursue the dream he’s had since you’d known him, but now bringing his brothers into it with him.

“It’s hardly the story of your life,” you quip, “Maybe the life you wish you had.” you tease, elbowing him in the arm over the center console. 

He laughs as he purses his lips, and pushes you away, “Yeah you say that now, but watch. We are getting that damn record deal, I don’t care what it takes.”

You turned to look at him again as the two of you pulled off the freeway and headed toward your exit. He believed it. He truly did, and you believed that he would do exactly as he said. He has always been that way. Some would say he is hard headed, but you would say he is just determined. 

“I know, I know,” you start, being quickly cut off.

“You’re still coming right?” he urges, looking at you before looking back at the now green stoplight.

“Of course I’m still coming!” you laugh, “I pledged twenty bucks to be there, remember?!”

“Damn right, and you better be in the front where I can see you,” he grins, “Or should I say, where you can see me.”

You roll your eyes at him again, watching the shit eating grin stretch across his face. “You're so full of yourself Jacob Thomas, it's gonna get you in trouble one of these days, and I'm not gonna be there to save you.”

He puts his hand over his heart and looks absolutely offended by your comment, “Save me? Baby doll, you know I don’t need saving. You need saving. From yourself.”

“Oh really? How so?” you ask, challenging him with a quirk of your brow. 

He smirks as he keeps his eyes on the road, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, “You’re headed to college to be some hot shot lawyer or something. You’re way too cool for that, Pops. You should stick with me and the guys.”

You groan as he pitches his grand idea to you for the hundredth time.

“Seriously. You can do so many other things. You can tour, party, see the world, instead of sitting in some bleak office building reading dusty law books all day.” he says matter of factly.

“Jake…” you whine, knowing this conversation always goes nowhere and leaves your mind a mess of emotions. 

He sighs as his car comes to a stop in the driveway of your parents house. He looks over to you, and his voice is stern, “I’m serious Poppy. You’re a freebird, you’re not cut out for that boring life. I know it.”

You cut your eyes at him as you twist in the seat to face him, “So instead I can be some groupie, waiting on you guys hand and foot, cleaning up beer cans, and holding your hair back when you puke in some nasty bar bathroom? No thanks.”

He huffs in annoyance, “You know damn well that you'd be more than that. You'd be like…an honorary member of the band. You're not really the groupie type. You're far too good for that.” he says, twisting a lock of your messy hair over your shoulder. You can't help but to feel heat start to creep up your chest from the simple gesture. 

“You think so?” You ask timidly, your eyes locked in on his tawny brown eyes. 

His demeanor softens, and his finger twirls around the same lock of hair, “Poppy you are, without a shadow of a doubt, the smartest, toughest and coolest chick I’ve ever met. You are so much more than just some groupie.”

The nickname he gave you sounds different somehow– sweeter, maybe, in this moment. In an effort to quickly break the mounting tension growing between the two of you,  you nudge him hard in the arm, “You going soft on me, Kiszka?”

He laughs in response, his fingers releasing the lock of your hair and running them through his own before bringing it to rest on the steering wheel, “I may be many things, P, but soft is not one of them.” he grins playfully. “Now get out, I’ve got practice in ten minutes.”

You scoff and toss the passenger door open, grabbing your tattered bookbag on the way. As you shut the door he leans over the center console to look at you through the open window, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“You know it’s just because I’m gonna miss you, Pops. More than I care to admit.” he confesses. 

“I know, Jake.” you answer, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I'll miss you too.”

“Good. Oh, don’t forget I can’t pick you up tomorrow morning. We’re heading straight to Groovebox after classes to set up.” he says, flipping his glasses back down. 

“I remember,” you say with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t be late, Y/N,” he says sternly, lifting a brow.

“Rich coming from you,” you taunt, beginning to walk to your front door. 

“M’never late, just running on my own time,” he winks. “Catch up with you later, P,” he says finally, pulling away as Bad Company begins blasting through the speakers once more. 

—

Jake 8:57 PM: which shirt should I wear tomorrow

You 8:58 PM: Um, maybe that denim button down you like? With the pearl buttons?

Jake 8:59 PM: it’s dirty

You 9:00 PM: Ok uhhhh, what about that colorful shirt with the aztec looking patterns on it

Jake 9:00 PM: do you think that will look good on camera

You 9:01 PM: Yes

Jake 9:02 PM: do you think I should like, iron it or whatever

You 9:03 PM: Do rockstars iron their clothes?

Jake 9:04 PM: see you tomorrow ;)

The air is a bit cooler now that the sun has set, the wind whipping right through your thin shirt as you reach for the door handle to Groovebox Studios. Tonight was the night, finally. This has been all Jake has talked about for weeks and weeks on end. Tonight they would record seven songs, live, in front of all of their friends and family, and anyone else that pledged enough money to be there. It had been grueling listening to Jake torture himself over what songs they would choose to record tonight, but they finally narrowed it down. At least, you hoped they did since everyone was here and waiting. 

As you entered into the lobby it was bustling with familiar faces, all waiting to step into the studio to watch the session. You could hear the guys warming up through the wall, the wail of Jake's guitar immediately sticking out to you. You could also hear the crashing of the cymbals as Danny tested his kit and the deep thrum of Sam’s bass. You nervously picked at your fingernails as you waited to be let inside, eager to see the guys, but mostly Jake. You needed him to know you were here, on time, at that. 

A few minutes later the large double doors opened and everyone filed into the small studio. You weren’t really sure what to expect but there were bright lights, and cameras everywhere, scattered between recording equipment and wires. Jake hadn’t noticed you were here just yet, but you saw him immediately in the shirt the two of you decided on last night. Something about that made you warm inside but you forced it back down where it came from. It was Jake. It wasn’t like that. Right?

The first song began, the guys seeming completely relaxed and not at all phased by the large equipment and people surrounding them, watching their every move. Josh’s voice was as strong and confident as Danny’s drums. Finally, Jake looked up from his guitar and let his eyes scan the crowd. A small and relieved smile filled his face as his eyes met yours. A small nod of his head said everything you knew he wanted to say, seeing you there supporting him in the front row of people. You knew that being there meant a lot to him, and gave him the extra boost of confidence he needed to make it through this set.

You were completely transfixed watching him play, giving everything he had for those seven songs. It seemed to fly by in a flash, the show ending with all four guys sweaty and a little winded. The crowd that showed up for them broke out into a round of cheers and applause as you all marveled at the budding talent in front of you. You watched as Jake placed his guitar in the stand and moved towards the producers of the show, thanking them profusely as he shook their hands. 

Immediately after that though, his eyes found you. He walked straight towards you, ignoring everyone else around, wrapping you in a sweaty hug.

“Well, P, you made it on time,” he grins, pulling you in tight against him, your head resting against his chest. He smelled of sweat, cologne and faintly of smoke and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your knees just a little bit weak.

“How was it?” he panted, “Sound alright?”

You laugh pulling away from his grip, “Jake, that was amazing! Of course it sounded alright.”  

He smiles as you pull away, fidgeting with the tip of his nose,  “Yeah? You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re my best friend, right?” he says with his signature smirk.

“When have I ever sugar coated anything, Jacob?” you taunt. 

He laughs as he playfully runs his hand through his damp hair, “Valid point.” he smirks, looking around briefly, “Stay right here for a sec. Don’t go, just need to go say hi to some people. Wait, you’re comin’ to the house right?”

“Is this you inviting me?” you tease, knowing you never need an invitation at the Kiszka household. 

He rolls his eyes, not playing into your little game one bit, “Yes, I’m inviting you smartass. Like you even need an invite.”

You nod your head and shoo him away to go talk to the people who came out to support him, but you can't help but feel special that you were the first person he wanted to see after such a big night. 

You watch as he moves from person to person, saying his hellos, shaking hands and talking about the show with each one. He was his normal, charismatic self, except for the small glances over to where you were waiting. It was as if he didn’t want you to go anywhere without checking on you every so often. You’re able to find a quiet corner of the studio to relax for a moment, and you find yourself watching him like he’s the only thing in the room.

He is still surrounded by everyone, laughing and talking. He is so in his element, being the center of attention. You're happy for him, he deserves it, but you find it a little annoying how every girl's eyes were glued to him. No matter how many times you push these thoughts away, they keep resurfacing. It's all in your head, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake the idea of being anything more than friends with him, yet you can't help the fluttering in your chest.

Twenty minutes later he is walking back over to you, the crowd of people slowly beginning to filter out as the rest of the guys begin to tear down their equipment. 

He comes to stand next to you, and his face is a bit more solemn now, the adrenaline from the show now long gone. “So I’ll see you at the house?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. “Just gotta pack up real quick, then make a quick beer stop then we will be home.”

“Beer stop? Did you forget we are 18?” you laugh. 

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Did you forget I have a fake ID?” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Plus, I heard Sara Matthews is working tonight, and she won’t question it.”

“Getting started on the whole bad boy rock and roll thing early, huh…”

He lets out a laugh as he gathers his guitar cables from the floor and slings them over his shoulder, “I’ll have you know that I’ve been a bad boy for a long time now, baby doll.”

An hour and a half later you’re finally back in Frankenmuth and turning onto his street. You can see a few cars parked outside the house but you don’t see their van just yet. You laugh to yourself wondering if Jake was busted for his fake ID yet, or if Sara still had that crush on him from fourth grade. When you see the familiar set of headlights behind you, you know it's the latter. 

The van comes screeching around the corner, sliding into the driveway and nearly taking out the mailbox. You laugh, recognizing Josh’s driving anywhere. He cuts the engine and jumps from the driver's seat with a grin. Jake slips out of the back door, pulling his guitar case from the backseat, his other hand holding a twelve-pack. Wordlessly, he trots up to your car, nodding at you to join him as he makes his way across the lawn and into the house, leaving the door wide open behind him.

You slowly walk up the steps, a weird feeling starting to settle in your stomach as you enter through the front door. Music is already blaring from the basement, and the loud hum of multiple people chatting is growing louder the further you walk. You take in a deep breath as you turn the corner into the living room. A giant group is already gathered around, sipping drinks and mingling in the dimly lit room. Your eyes scan the sea of people and you recognize some of the faces from the studio, and the rest are most likely here just to party.

Your eyes scan the room for Jake, wondering where he took off to, but then you see him come bounding down the stairs in a clean blue t-shirt and a smile. He makes a beeline straight for you, his eyes locked on yours as he navigates the crowd. He finally reaches you, his hand landing on your shoulder and ushering you away from the crowd of people. “Come here,” he murmurs under his breath as he drags you down the hall towards the kitchen.

You follow behind him as he makes his way into the kitchen, and you know he is dead set on enjoying his well deserved twelve-pack. As predicted he takes out two cans, popping the tabs and handing one to you.  “Well, let's toast.”

You take the silver can from him, cold in your hand, “Okay, let’s…”

He lifts his beer up towards you with a smirk, his eyes locked on yours, “I guess I just want to say thank you for putting up with all of this the last few years, I know it hasn’t been easy,” he grins, his eyes raking over you, “You put up with a lot of bullshit from me, but even after all of that you’re still here.”

You tap your can to his, “Where else would I be?” you breathe. 

He takes a moment to study your face, his eyes tracing over your cheeks, your nose, your chin as they land on your own eyes. The two of you silently stand next to each other, the sounds of the rest of the party still loud and present from the other room, and you can nearly feel his heart beating against his chest from where you’re standing. The unspoken feelings rushing between the two of you are almost palpable. He doesn’t answer your question, instead choosing to remain quiet as he keeps his eyes trained on you.

You pull the can to your lips, sipping at the bubbly beverage, only slightly wincing at the taste. 

He laughs watching you try to drink the beer, trying to hide the grimace as the hops tickle your taste-buds, “It’s an acquired taste, Pops.” he grins, “And you’re going to have to get used to it before you get to college.”

You sigh, “It's not like college is some big party. I doubt it's like the movies.”

He laughs, resting his can on the counter next to him, “Sure it is. Beer flows like waterfalls, parties happening every day, you’ll even have a couple different flings I bet–” he pauses for a moment, his expression growing serious, “Just have fun, Pops. Get the full college experience.”

“I'll try, but I have to take this seriously. Definitely no flings or beer waterfalls or whatever.” you answer, skirting around that subject the best you can. 

“Well yeah, take things seriously, but don’t count yourself out of a little fun, too.” he says, resting his palm behind his head. He’s quiet for a moment before he continues, “Maybe you’ll meet some fancy law student…fall in love and get married and all that.”

“I don’t know, Jake…” You say nervously. “That’s not why I’m going to college.” Why in the world were you two talking about this? You could feel your cheeks growing warm. Doesn’t he know that the only future you’ve ever planned is the one with him in it? 

He raises an eyebrow at your flushed expression, “What’s wrong Pops, planning out your dream life  as we speak?”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, “No,  Jake.” you grit out. “Can we like…go party or are we gonna stand here and play twenty questions about my love life all night?”

He raises his hands in surrender, “Fine, fine, we can go join those losers.” he murmurs, pushing himself off the counter. He lifts his hand in the air, motioning to the living room, “After you.”

A few hours later you find yourself laying on the basement floor in a pile of blankets, your mind hazy and free as you bask in the feeling of the alcohol swirling through your veins. Jake is laying next to you in a similar state, staring up at the warm string lights strung across the walls. Josh, Sam, and Danny are already passed out on the other side of the room, their snoring turning into a symphony as usual. Your body feels warm and weightless as you turn your head to the side to look at Jake.

He notices your movement, turning to face you, a small smile on his face as he watches you, a long empty can of beer clutched lazily in his hand. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, and you’re pretty sure he isn’t entirely with it considering you’ve lost count of how many beers he’s had since the party started. He lets out a small laugh, the kind he’s only capable of making when he’s like this, “You know what I just remembered?” he slurs, his words coming out slowly.

“What?” you answer, pursing your lips.

He grins, “Remember when we were kids, we’d sit on the edge of Cass River and throw rocks into the water for hours…‘til the sun would go down…” he mumbles, his gaze trained on the blue blanket beneath him. “We’d talk for hours, and it was just…So peaceful. We were best friends–” he trails off, running his tongue over his lower lip.

You nod, his words causing a slight tingle in your stomach as your own mind begins to wander. He is still watching you, his eyes traveling over your face, over your hair before he speaks again, “And we’re still best friends now…right?”

“Yeah of course we are, Jake. Me going to college isn’t going to change that.” you answer softly, seeing the worry painted across his face. 

He nods his head, a small smile creeping up on him, “I know. I know, I just…” he pauses, his thoughts coming a little slower now, “I just don’t know what I’m going to do without you here. I’m used to you bein’ around, it’s gonna feel weird…different.”

“It’s not like I’ll never come home, and you can call me and text me whenever you want. You know that. Where is all of this coming from, Jake?”

He sighs, his eyes dropping from your face and looking instead at the ceiling, “I dunno, I just…I guess I’m realizing it a bit more now that it’s actually about to happen. You’re going to school hundreds of miles away, with other people…other guys, and I won’t be there to keep those idiots in check.”

You giggle a little, the thought of him fending off guys a little humorous. “I already told you, I’m not going to college looking for guys. I’m going to become a lawyer, and I have to focus on the LSAT and getting into law school and everything else. Guys are going to be the last thing on my mind.”

He lets out an exasperated breath, “I know, Pops. That wasn’t my point.” he mutters before rolling onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks at you, “I’m just worried about you, okay? I don’t want some douchey frat guy to come up and ruin everything…”

“Ruin what?” you ask, furrowing your brows. 

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he looks away for a brief moment, but his gaze immediately returns on yours. “This.” he mutters softly, motioning a hand between the two of you. “Us. Our friendship, our bond. You know what I mean so don’t pretend that you don’t.”

“Nothing is going to come between us, Jake. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

He nods, a small hint of a smile creeping across his face, the tension in his shoulders slowly releasing, “I know you wouldn’t…it’s just me being a dumbass, as usual.”

“Jake, you're not a dumbass. I get it. I have the same worries you know. For all I know you’ll meet some super cool girl when you guys inevitably go on tour, and next thing you know you’ve forgotten my name.”

He laughs, moving his hand to playfully swat at you, “Come on now…there’s no way I’m going to forget your name, you’re the only girl I ever think about.”

You feel your heart lurch into your chest at his confession. He may not mean it the way you’re taking it, but part of you wonders if maybe he does. 

“So it’s agreed, no douchey frat guys for me, and no rockstar girlfriends for you,” you tease.

He laughs again, his fingers lightly brushing against the skin of your arm, “If that makes you happy then yes…agreed.” he grins, watching as the motion of his hand leaves a trail of goosebumps down your arm. “Just promise me one thing…”

“What’s that…” you answer. 

“Just, tell me…if you do– if you start to fall in love. Just tell me first.” he breathes. 

You can see the sincerity in his face, and hear it in his words. He really thinks…

“Jake, guys don’t– they don’t see me like that,” you pause. “It’s never been like that for me.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, a frown on his lips growing by the second. “Bullshit.” he mutters, “Guys don’t see you like what?”

You muster up the courage thanks to the alcohol in your system, and tell him what you really think. “I’m not the kind of girl that guys fall in love with. I am plain– average old, Y/N. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

He scoffs and turns onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, “Plain and average? Is that what you really think?” he asks with disbelief. “Y/N, you’re beautiful, and the guys around here are just too blind to see it. There are guys who would kill to be with you, for just one single chance.”

“I don’t know, Jake. Maybe. But like I said, I don’t care about that. Once I make it on at a firm, maybe I’ll consider it.” you say. 

He studies your face, the alcohol starting to dull his inhibitions, his thoughts coming out unfiltered at this point, “You’re thinking like, ten years in the future P! You’re about to go to college and you’re talking like you’re never gonna meet anyone or pay anyone any mind. For ten years!  You’ve got to live, Poppy! You’ve never even been kissed for Christ’s sake!”

“Wow,” you breathe, the hurt washing over you. 

​​He sighs, realizing that he might have gone too far, “I didn't-” he stops, looking away from you before he speaks up again, “I'm sorry, that was shitty. I didn't mean to say it like that.”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, you’re right.” you reply. 

He looks back at you, his fingers running over your arm again, “No, it’s not…I shouldn’t have said it like that. It’s just, you think so little of yourself sometimes and it drives me insane. You are like…the most amazing person ever, and I don’t–” he stops himself, biting down on his bottom lip, “I just don’t understand how guys don’t see it.”

You’re a little taken aback, this is the first time that his true feelings about you have really come out. You’re unsure what to even say. 

“Thanks, Jake.” you smile, “I’ll let you know how my love life is going ten years from now.” you giggle. 

He looks at you for a long minute, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. 

“I have a better idea,” he says, taking a deep breath. “We’re 18 now, right?”

“Right…” you answer hesitantly.

“If you’re sure that you are dead set on waiting until you’re done with school to be with someone…” he pauses. 

“I am…” you confirm.

“Alright, when we are thirty, if neither of us are married…” he pauses, “Let’s marry each other.”

Shock fills your features, and you can tell that he notices by the smile pulling across his lips. He laughs lightly when you finally muster out a few syllables, “Come on P…it’s the perfect plan. If we’re both still single by thirty, we’ll get hitched.”

“Married?! Jake, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t want to marry me!?”

“Sure I do. You’ve always been my girl,” he murmurs, still smiling, “and we’ve already established that no other guy will ever know you better than me. We’ve been best friends since we were kids, been through every high and low, you’re the only one who’s stuck with me through it all…so,” his voice trails off, “if we’re both available at thirty, I see no reason why we shouldn’t marry each other. Plus, our parents would love it.”

“Jake, this is crazy,” you pause, “I can’t let you do this. You can’t make that kind of promise…”

He leans back against the pillow behind him, his expression growing serious as he turns and looks at you, “I think I can. And I wouldn’t be promising if I couldn’t keep it. You’re it for me, Poppy. You always have been...”

“I didn’t think– Do you�� I didn’t think you felt that way about me…” 

He lets out a dry laugh, watching the realization starting to hit you, “How could you not know? We’ve spent our entire lives together…this is nothing new.” he sighs, pausing for a moment, “I should have probably said something before, but…I think a part of me was afraid that you didn’t feel the same way and I would end up ruining everything and lose you…” he pauses. “Why do you think I’m over here telling you not to fall in love with some stupid college guy? I want it to be me, P…I’m your guy. I always have been. The question is, do you feel the same?”

“Of course I do Jake. I– I just…” you stammer. “I’m sorry I don’t even know what to say, I–”

Your heart is racing and your eyes are glued to his every movement. You want to scream from the rooftops, but right here in the moment you can barely form a word. 

“Say you feel the same, that’s all you need to say.” He gently takes up your chin, his thumb running across your bottom lip, “Say you want it to be me.”

Your eyelids grow heavy as his warm thumb brushes your lip, “Yes,” you breathe, your eyes locked on his. “I feel the same.”

He lets out a low breath, the words that you’ve just spoken going straight to his gut, “You know I’ve wanted to kiss you for as long as I can remember.” he murmurs, his fingers still resting against your chin.

“Really…”

He nods his head, a small smile creeping up on the corner of his mouth, “Yeah. Since middle school, at the very least. Maybe even earlier…” he pauses, “It’s a shame you’re making me wait until we’re thirty.”

You smile at him playfully, “I mean...maybe we don't have to…”

A low grin slowly spreads across his face, “Don’t tease me, P.” he murmurs, his fingers still lingering on your chin and gently tugging at your bottom lip.

“Who says I am?” you whisper.

His breathing is becoming ragged as he gently runs his thumb over your bottom lip once more, “Poppy…say yes…” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

“To what?” you breathe. 

“To the pact. To kissing me. To all of it.” he mumbles, his thumb still stroking over your bottom lip, his free hand slowly traveling from your neck to the small of your back, gently pulling you towards him.

Your eyes flick to his, the string lights glowing in the reflection of his eyes. You can feel his body pressed against yours in the most delicious way, the closest you’ve ever been to  each other.  “Yes, Jake.”

And just like that, his lips are crashing into yours, his hand moving from your lower back to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, a low breathy moan leaving his lips as he pulls you into him even more. His kiss is slow and tender at first, the taste of beer still lingering on his lips as he moves them over yours in a languid back and forth, but it soon turns desperate and hungry as his tongue presses urgently against yours, a low growl leaving his chest, all of the feelings and emotions that he’s harbored for years releasing themselves in this one moment. But within seconds, it’s over. 

He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in and out heavily. The kiss has both of you in a daze, your mind struggling to focus on anything other than the fact that your best friend just kissed you. Your first kiss. A content smile stretches across your face before you let your head fall into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne as he wraps his arms around you. 

He holds you tightly against him, his chin resting at the top of your head as he runs his fingers across your bare arm. The feeling of your body pressed against his is one you’ve dreamed about for years and now experiencing it for the first time, you never want him to let you go.

“Thank you, Jake.” you say softly into his chest. 

He pulls you in even tighter, his heart rate finally starting to return to normal as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “For what?” he hums softly.

“For being my first kiss. I always wanted it to be you.” you answer. 

A smile spreads across his face and he squeezes you a little tighter again. “Me too, Pops.” He pauses, his hand finding a loose strand of your hair and twisting it around his finger, “and for the record, I hope I’m your last.”

You laugh, but then an idea strikes you. “Oh yeah, about that. Don't we need to like, sign our names on the line or something?” you say playfully. 

He pauses for a moment, looking down at you but quickly realizing what you mean. A small smirk spreads across his face and he lets out a small laugh, “I don’t know if we’ve got a pen and paper down here…”

You shrug as you look at him, but then he quickly reaches his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled gas station receipt from his beer run earlier in the night. “Will this work?”

“I don’t see why not?” you grin. 

He reaches up behind the two of you, digging around in the pocket  of Josh’s backpack that was left on the couch, pulling his hand out with a smile. “A pen.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes ironing out the fine print of your arrangement, before Jake takes the liberty of writing out the words on the back of the receipt paper. 

‘At age 30, if both parties are single they will enter into marriage with each other.’

You both sign your names beneath the words, the act feeling strangely good and you can tell you both are feeling it. “So it’s official…” you say, letting your eyes meet his.

He stares down at the receipt, the ink of your signatures drying on the back. A weird feeling of finality washes over you as he slowly nods his head, “Yeah, I guess we’re really doing this.”

“The pact.” you grin, leaning into his shoulder. 

He lets out a soft laugh as he looks down at you, his arm wrapping tighter around your shoulders, “The pact,” he repeats softly, before pressing another kiss to the top of your head and sealing your fate as you know it. 

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

2015 

“Yeah, fuck–” he groans, “keep doing that, baby…”

Your eyes flick up to meet his icy blue eyes, his tip nudging the back of your throat as you take as much of him as you can. You know it won’t be long now, you can feel the tightening of his abs as he fights off his release. You release him from your lips with a pop, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock for dramatic effect. You can hear the bass line of ‘Starboy’ thundering through the walls of the fraternity house party still happening downstairs, momentarily pulling you from the moment you found yourself in. 

You feel Trevors hand as it lands on the back of your head, returning you to your task. Again you take him into your throat, never letting your eyes part from his as your hands cup his balls. 

“Fuck baby doll, you’re fuckin’ amazing,” he groans,  his cock starting to jerk with need. 

You wince as the pet name rolls off his tongue, taking you back to a place you’d rather not remember right now. Right back to Jake. 

Jake. Where was he right now? What was he doing? Surely he wasn’t at the back of some girl's throat. What were you doing?

Suddenly you feel him as his cum starts to paint the back of your throat, swallowing him down with every grunt that leaves his chest. You pull off of him quickly, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Your mind is suddenly a jumbled mess of thoughts, the single word sending you into a tailspin of guilt. 

“Felt good as fuck, baby,” Trevor says, pulling up his jeans. 

You give him a curt smile as you pull yourself up off of the dirty bathroom floor. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“What?” he questions, grabbing his red cup from the bathroom counter. “Baby?”

“No.” you answer quickly. “Baby doll. Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, babe. My bad.” he says nonchalantly. “You good?” he asks, turning to open the bathroom door.

You let out a sigh, “Yeah. I’m fine.” you answer, watching him spin the door knob to open the door. The music from the party hits you full force, and that combined with the alcohol in your system hits you hard. “Actually, I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Why, the party is just getting started, it's only two,” he says, ushering you down the stairs. “And I thought you were coming home with me tonight.”

“Eh, I need to be at the library tomorrow morning first thing. I have an exam tomorrow afternoon.” you say, “I’ll call you though, yeah?”

He shakes his head, “Whatever, babe. Later.”

Relief washes over you as you free yourself from Trevor, and make your way through the party and out into the fresh air of Fraternity row.

“Fuck. What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” you grit out, making the short walk back to your dorm. The air is starting to chill as fall begins to wash over Chicago. You kick yourself the entire way to your door, immediate regret setting in as you let your mind wander back to Jake. 

It had been a few weeks since the two of you spoke, and you definitely hadn’t let him know about your little ongoing situation with Trevor. You didn’t even truly know if you needed to. It wasn’t serious, and that was the deal, right?

As you lock the door behind you, you toss your bag onto your desk, hearing the loud thud as your phone hits the wooden table. It reminds you that you haven’t looked at it in hours. Pulling it from your purse you see a few Instagram notifications but more importantly you see that you missed call and a missed text from Jake. You wonder if you were on his mind, too. 

Jake 1:46 AM: Pops, call me when you can, I have big news.

Your eyes flash to your clock seeing it read out 2:32 AM, and you wonder if he is still up. If he would answer your call. You decide to try, knowing he keeps late hours. The line rings out four times before you hear his raspy voice answering the call. 

“Hey Pops,” he says, and you can tell you’ve woken him. 

“Shit, sorry, I woke you up didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Nice to hear your voice instead of reading it on a screen,” he laughs, clearing his throat. “It’s late Poppy, where have you been all night? Are you just getting home?”

You feel hesitant to answer but decide on the truth, “Yeah, I– I was out. I was at a party with some friends.”

You hear a deep hum as he takes in your words and you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you have fun?”

“Um, yeah I guess so…” you lie. “But that's not why I’m calling, I saw your text. What’s up, is everything okay?”

He lets out a soft sigh, his voice still thick with sleep, “Yeah everything is fine. Everything is great actually. Sorry to just text you out of the blue like that, but I wanted to– I just wanted to tell you over the phone instead of texting.” He pauses for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts, “It took a while but, the deal went through. We were signed for an album and we’re  gonna tour it.”

“Oh my god, Jake!”

“We are releasing a fucking album, Pops.” he repeats. 

“I don’t even know what to say, I am so– I am so proud of you Jake! I can’t believe it! I mean, I can but, you know what I mean!” you gush. 

You hear his soft laugh from the other end of the phone, “You don’t really have to say anything. Or you can scream or do whatever. I just needed to tell you. I wanted you to be the first person to know.”

The words then hit you, “Wait, I’m the first person you’ve told?”

“Yeah, you’re the first.” he laughs, “You’re the one I need to tell everything to, first. Just how it's always been. How I want it to always be.”

“I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

You can hear his smile on the other end of the phone, “I’m proud too. God, I wish you were here, Pops. Wish you were here celebrating with me.”

A sigh leaves your lips, “I wish I was there too.”

“Pops, listen, it– It might be a while before we can see each other again. We– we’re going to be touring all through the spring. All over the place…”

“Oh, I–”

“No, no, don’t worry or anything, I just mean I will miss you, that’s all. But you’re doing your thing in Chicago and I’m doing mine out here. Just kinda the paths we are on right now.” he pauses, “But I’ve still got a couple of weeks at the end of the year before we go. We can see each other then, right?”

You bite your lips together as you try to stay positive, “Yeah. Yeah of course.”

“Good.” he answers, “Just keep on going, Poppy. We’ve got this.”

“Yeah. Yeah we do.” you answer quietly. 

“Alright, well, we should probably get some sleep, it’s late. But one more thing before you go…” he trails off. 

“What’s that…”

“Just…” he pauses hesitantly, “We’re still, us, right?”

“Yeah, Jake. We’re still us. Nothing has changed.” you confirm. 

“Okay. Well, goodnight, Pops,” he says, his voice growing sleepy again. 

“Goodnight, Jake.” you whisper, hitting the red button to end the call. 

As you collapse down onto your lumpy dorm room bed you run your hand over your face. You try to shake the hollow feeling in your stomach at the thought of everything being okay, but you couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease washing over you as you pull the blankets over your head. 

December 8,  2015

Jake 4:27 PM: When do you come home for winter break?

You 5:09 PM: I’m not sure yet. Cramming for finals currently. 

Jake 5:20 PM: good luck pops

December 19, 2015

Jake 11:47AM: We are leaving for Detroit to get a van and trailer. I can’t believe we are really going on tour. Miss you. 

December 22, 2015

Jake 9:57 PM:  I saw your mom today and she said you won’t be home for Christmas. Would it be weird if I came to see you? Let me know. 

December 25, 2015

Jake 7:46 AM: Merry Christmas, Pops. 

You 9:04 AM: Merry Christmas, Jake. Miss you. I’ll call you soon. 

December 29, 2015

You 12:03 PM: sorry I haven’t called, I’ve been so busy. When do you leave for tour?

Jake 1:10 PM: January 8th. We’ll be in Chicago on the 24th, should I leave you a ticket?

You 1:27 PM: Can you leave two?

Jake 1:30 PM: Anything for you pops. Can’t wait to see you. 

January 23, 2016

Jake 8:46 PM: leaving the venue in Springfield heading towards Chicago. See you tomorrow?

You 9:23 PM: Yes ❤️

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

January 24, 2016

“So what’ve you got going today babe?” Trevor asks, rolling over to face you. 

“Honestly not a lot. I have a class at 1:00 then I guess I am just going to come back here and get ready to go to that show. You still want to come with me right?”

“Yeah for sure, sounds like a good time,” he says, kissing your  shoulder as you sit up on your elbows. The sheet now barely covers your naked bodies, the light sheen of sweat now dry.

A knock on your door startles both of you, your head snapping to the right to look at Trevor, “You think it’s the RA?” 

“Fucking hope not,” he whispers, quickly pulling himself up out of your bed. 

You jump up, grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it over your head as you rush to the door. You push back your hair and take a deep breath as you open the door, but much to your surprise, it’s not the RA.

“Jake?!” 

“Hey, Pops,” he grins, his smile lighting you on fire. His hands are in his pockets, and he seems almost nervous.

“Jake what– what are you doing here?” you rush out, taking in the sight of him for the first time in a long time. His hair is longer now, and he seems as if he's added a little bit of muscle tone.

“We got into town early, thought I’d surprise you,” he answers, his eyes flicking up and down your body as he takes in your current state.

Before you even have time to explain, Trevor walks up behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“All good, babe?” he asks, his eyes locked on Jake. 

You see the exact moment that realization hits Jake and you swallow harshly, “Yeah, yeah, um everything is fine. This is my friend Jake. He’s in the band we’re seeing tonight.”

You watch as Jake lets out a small huff of air, anger washing over him. “Jake,” he nods, “Nice to meet you.” 

“You too.” Trevor answers. 

“I see you’re busy, Pops. I’ll uh– catch you later.” he says, looking at you before walking away. You don’t even have time to speak before you hear the elevator doors opening. You shut your dorm room door with tears welling in your eyes, doing your best to not let Trevor see, but a huge lump has formed in your throat, and you feel like you might be sick, so you quickly dart into the bathroom before Trevor can question you. 

Your blood is rushing around furiously as you pick up the two tickets at willcall under your name.  Trevor seems oblivious to your anxiety, though, you are doing your best to keep it under wraps. The energy in the small venue is buzzing around you and your excitement doubles once you step through the double doors and enter inside. There are a few people gathered at the front of the stage, and you and Trevor step up behind them. Your heart is pounding as your eyes catch on the drum kit, seeing the band's logo displayed proudly. It won't be too much longer until they go on stage, opening for the main act, and you know more people will begin to show up after they start. 

“So you’ve seen them before?” Trevor asks, turning to look at you. 

“Um, yeah kinda. But not like this. Not on a big stage with lights and real sound equipment,” you answer, doing your best to shut him up. 

Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage where you see a few familiar faces getting ready to go on stage. A smile stretches across your face and your heart starts to pound harder, knowing Jake will be in front of you in mere seconds. The house music starts to quiet down and you watch as Josh takes the stage. He is followed by Sam and Danny, and finally you see Jake step up with his red SG.

They immediately begin playing, and Josh starts talking to the crowd of people that have gathered around you. There are more people here than you would have thought, but you chalk it up to their successful shows in other surrounding states. But you’re more so shocked at the sheer presence of  them on the stage. In seconds Jake’s guitar is commanding the attention of the entire venue, all eyes on him. Part of you wants him to look at you, but the other part of you is still feeling guilty about this morning's earlier interaction. 

As your attention focuses on him, you notice that his attention seems to be focused on everything but the crowd of people in front of him, in fact he seems to be looking over the crowd as he strums out the chords to the first song. It’s then you realize that he seems to be intentionally not looking for you. You hate to admit that it  hurts. 

The performance begins, and Josh starts the opening lyrics to a song you've never heard before, but it's incredible. You can't help but notice that the lyrics seem almost as if they could be about you, and it sends chills up and down your spine. Surely not.

It's then that Jake's eyes meet yours, locking in on you as Josh continues to sing. Your breath is caught in your chest and as you struggle to blink you see Jake look over at Trevor. Your heart begins to race, your cheeks turning flushed. It seems as if time has stopped, like the two of you are the only people here, in the entire world. You hold his gaze again for a moment before he rips his eyes away, returning his focus back to the music. 

The show continues this way, the constant back and forth as the two of you look at each other, speaking silently as he plays guitar. It feels like an eternity before the show is finally over, their set is ending and the guys are walking offstage. The crowd erupts into applause and cheers, and you and Trevor begin to make your way towards the back of the venue, but not before Josh spots you and wraps his sweaty arms around you. 

He looks flushed and out of breath but still has a million dollar smile plastered across his face, “Y/N! I’m glad you made it out. Did you enjoy the show?” he says, but doesn’t let go of the hug despite him dripping sweat onto your shoulder.

“Of course I did! I always do, you guys were amazing!” you shout, hearing the headliner start their set. “It’s nice to see you on a real stage where you belong.”

He lets out a low laugh, finally letting go of you, “It’s still unreal. I can’t even pretend like I’m used to it. Thanks for being here.” he pauses. “I don’t know where Jake ran off to but I’ll find him and send him your way.”

“Thanks,” you smile, seeing him wave over his shoulder. 

You turn back around to see Trevor standing beside you, a small hint of confusion on his face. He looks like he has something he wants to say, and you know exactly what it is.

“Yes, I know the whole band, and yes Jake is a twin,” you smile. 

He shakes his head and looks down at the sticky bar floor before looking back at you. “No actually it's not that. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N, at Jake… Like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him for the entire show. And how he couldn’t take his eyes off you either. Not once.”

Panic begins to set in, your heart rate immediately spiking, “What? No. I– I watched everybody, Trev.”

He raises an eyebrow as he stares you down, “No, you didn’t. You watched him.” he replies, his face growing serious as he looks you over, “I’m not stupid, babe. You’ve been with me for a while now, and I have never once seen you look at me the way you were looking at him.”

“No, you’re imagining things,” you say dismissively, seeing Jake appear in the crowd, heading your direction at possibly the worst time. 

“No, I’m not imagining things,” he mutters, his words turning cold. “Just admit it. Say that you have feelings for him.”

Jake finally makes his way over to you, and by that point the tension between the three of you is as thick as molasses. Jake’s face changes the moment he sees the expression on your face.

“Hey Pops, what’s going on? Everything okay?” he asks, his eyes flickering between you and Trevor.

“Um–” you stammer, unsure what to say to diffuse the tension between you and Trevor.

Trevor looks at Jake, his eyes narrowing at your obvious discomfort, “Just settling an issue here, that’s all.”

Jake looks at him, obviously confused and concerned, “What issue is that?”

“Oh, so you’re going to play dumb, too?” Trevor quips, “Of course.”

Jake’s face turns serious as his eyes narrow, “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, man. You want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Not much to tell. I can just tell when a guy and a girl have feelings for each other. We’re working through the issue right now.” he answers nonchalantly, gesturing in your direction.

“Trevor!” you snap, your face burning with embarrassment. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “What? We are. Am I wrong? You’ve got feelings for this dude, right?”

Jake is standing stock still, his eyes wide and focused on you as Trevor mentions the feelings you’re not supposed to have.

The tension in the air is palpable, the realization of what he’s saying slowly settling in on him. “Right?” he asks again. You can’t bring yourself to look at either one of them, your gaze remaining locked on the ground.

“No. I don’t Trevor. You are my boyfriend. Jake is…just a friend…from back home. I'm here with you.” you answer, feeling your own heart break as the words pierce through Jake, too. 

He stands there, his face expressionless as your words sink in. He’s frozen, staring down at you, but your head is still glued to the ground and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Trevor lets out a breath, “We’ll just have to agree to disagree then. All I’m saying is the way you were looking at him just now, and the way he was looking at you…there’s something between you two that isn’t just a regular thing, and I see it.”

“No man, she's right. We are just friends. Nothing more. Never have been, never will be. Isn’t that right, Pops.” Jake says, and you can feel the venom in his words. 

You dare glance up at him, but the moment your eyes meet you regret it. His face looks like stone, the light in his eyes now replaced with a dark, dull anger. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Jake like this, his gaze locked on yours, staring you down.

“Right, Pops? We’re just friends,” he repeats, but his voice lacks the comfort of the countless times he’s said those words before to you. There’s no reassurance in there this time, no hint of a smile. This is not the Jake you know. The Jake that you love.

“Right,” you breathe, wishing more than anything you could just disappear into thin air. 

He holds your gaze for just a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you, waiting for something more from you, but you just can’t say it, your voice having abandoned you.

“Okay, great, well uh– thanks for coming out. See ya ‘round, Pops.” You watch as he nods his head toward you dismissively, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

The feeling of him walking away from you, the anger in his face and in his words, it’s leaving you with an unbearable emptiness feeling in your chest. Your head is swimming with everything that has just transpired. You’re unable to move, but Trevor breaks you out of your trance with a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Part of you wants to stay, to leave Trevor and find Jake and make things right, but you know you can't. It's too late. The damage is done. You let him lead you out, your head down as you stumble out of the venue. The night sky is cold and black, the weight of the moment still fresh. You let Trevor lead you away from the venue. Away from Jake. 

You make the trip back to your dorm in silence, both of you just wanting to forget about the whole thing and curl up in bed and sleep. He doesn’t try to talk, but you can feel his tense energy radiating off of him next to you, and you aren’t totally sure if he’s angry with you or just the situation in general.

As you slide into your bed, your mind is still replaying the moments back in the venue. Jake’s face as you denied having any feelings for him. The way he used a nickname that once was special between you two and somehow made it sound so cold. The way he didn’t argue when you denied your feelings to Trevor. And the worst part of all, your inability to correct him.

The sheets feel heavy on top of your body, and you’ve never felt more lonely. The person who knows you best is a couple miles away from you, and at the same time he’s never felt more distant. You want to try and sleep, hoping the morning can bring you some reprieve but you instead end up staring at the ceiling and letting the tears quietly fall.

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

November 10, 2016

“Miss Y/N?” the dorm attendant calls out as you walk through the entry doors.

“Yes?” you answer, stopping at the desk with a smile. 

“You had a delivery come this morning,” she smiles, “a big beautiful one.”

“Me?” you ask, not expecting any deliveries. 

“Yes, stay right here and I will get it,” she says, scampering off to the back office to retrieve your package.

However, when she steps out your heart nearly drops. It’s not a package at all. It's a giant bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers. Your eyes instantly begin to fill with tears, and a familiar ache in your heart flares up. Poppies, at least two dozen of them in a bright pink vase. They are all blooming and vibrant and you don’t even need to read the card to know who they are from. 

You accept them from her with thanks, and rush back to your dorm room as fast as you can. The tears are beginning to stream  from the corners of your eyes as you kick the door shut behind you. You place the flowers on your desk, and with shaky hands you pull the tiny red card from the holder. 

The outside of the envelope reads ‘Happy Birthday’ in bold handwriting. You look at the envelope one more time before ripping open the seal and pulling the card out. The front of the card has a handwritten message. ‘Have a great birthday, Pops.’

There’s no signature, but you know who it’s from. You open the card and find the inside blank, except for one simple phrase written in the middle.

‘Still us, right?’

You feel like your heart has exploded in your chest, the tears falling faster now. You feel a knot in the pit of your stomach as you read those words again and again, your brain unable to wrap your head fully around what they mean. You know what he’s really asking, and the feeling of shame and guilt over the way that you left things is even stronger now.

“What did I do?” you whisper to yourself. You never wanted to hurt him, that was never your intention. You let your head sink, your eyes landing on the beautiful multicolored flowers on the desk. You let the tears continue to fall, the guilt and helplessness washing over you in a fresh wave. You let your head fall into your hands, trying to will yourself to do something, anything, but the feeling of despair and the memory of how Jake’s face looked that night in the venue is like a heavy weight on top of you.

Should you call him? Text him?

You look around your dorm, as if a sign would pop up and tell you exactly what to do. You turn and look at your phone, your hands shaking as you reach out toward it. You think about calling him, you think about texting, but what would you say?

You want to say how sorry you are, how much you’ve missed him, and how much better everything would be if you could both go back and do that night over again...but what good is saying those things now? It’s too late for regret, no matter how badly you want to go back and change the last few months.

You pick up the phone, your fingers shaking slightly as you dial his number. The phone rings for a few seconds until you hear his voice on the other line. “Poppy?”

“Jake,” you reply. 

“Hey,” his voice responds, a little bit of surprise and relief in it. He hesitates before continuing, “Guessing you got the flowers?”

“I did. Jake, they are so beautiful. I love them.” you answer. There’s an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, the elephant in the room growing larger by the second.

“Yeah, I’m really glad you like them,” he replies, his voice sounding less surprised and a little bit of normalcy starting to return to the conversation. He lets another pause linger between the two of you, the silence feeling strange after all the time you’ve gone without speaking to each other. Then he speaks again. “I wasn’t sure you were going to call.”

“I wasn’t sure you would answer,” you say sheepishly.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, the sound of his laugh somehow still warming your heart. “Yeah, to be honest I was a little hesitant to answer. But I’m glad you called.” he says quietly.

“I um– I got your…note.” you breathe. 

A pause fills the line before he speaks again, this time quieter. “Yeah, it’s just been kind of heavy having the distance between us lately. I just… needed you to know that the way things ended last time we saw each other, I never meant to…” he trails off, suddenly unsure of the proper words to say.

“Jake, I-” you start, but he interrupts you.

“No, you don’t have to say anything,” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice. “Please don’t feel bad, okay? I just needed you to know that we’re still…” he fades off again, that familiar feeling of helplessness filling the air. He takes a moment before continuing, “You’re still my best friend and you always will be. I don’t want us to lose that. I don’t want to lose you any more. You’re my girl, Pops. Always will be.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Jake,” you confess, your voice cracking with pain. 

“I know.” he replies, letting out a sigh, “And I understand.” Another moment passes between the two of you before he speaks again. “Listen, I’ve got to go, we are going on soon and Josh is breathing down my neck, but I’m glad you called. It means a lot to hear your voice. Let’s try and…I don’t know, talk more?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry to keep you, I just…” you pause, “Have a good show, Jake... a-and thank you for the flowers.”

“Of course, anything for my girl,” he answers, “and Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you…” you trail off. 

“Call soon?” he asks, the volume in the background starting to grow louder.

“I’d like that,” you breathe, feeling the distance from him even more than before. 

“Good. Okay, well have a good night, P.” he says softly, and right before you think he’s hung up you hear him whisper, “It’s still us, Poppy.”

“Still us,” you confirm, the call ending as the words leave your lips. 

January 4, 2017

Jake 8:12 AM: Just signed the contract for a headlining world tour. I can’t believe it, Pops.

You 7:58 PM: I’m so proud of you Jake

March 28, 2017

Jake 11:04 PM: Just walked past a street vendor selling red poppies. Apparently they are a big thing here. Thought of you. Miss you. 

You 11:24 PM: I miss you too. Where are you at these days?

Jake 11:30 PM: In Paris right now, England tomorrow, then Scotland. It’s beautiful here. 

You 11:32 PM: I can only imagine.

Jake 11:33 PM: One day, Pops.

June 7, 2017

You 12:25 PM: Did I just see that you guys are playing Lollapalooza?! Jake!

Jake 1:49 PM: You did, can you believe it? 

You 1:50 PM: We used to daydream about that

Jake 1:56 PM: No more dreaming. Can I save you an Artist wristband?

You 1:58 PM: You’d do that for me?

Jake 2:00 PM: Of course poppy, you’re my girl. 

August 3, 2017

Jake 8:09 AM: P, it’s show day and I haven't heard from you. You still coming? Your wristband is at will call.

You 10:23 AM: Jake, I am so so so sorry. I can’t find anyone to cover my shift tonight at work. I’ve been trying for weeks. I hate to miss this. I am so sorry. :(

Jake 10:40 AM: Ahh, it’s alright P,  there will be more. I’ll catch you at the next one. 

You 10:45 AM: I won’t miss the next one. I swear. 

Jake 10:46 AM: I’m holding you to it. Call soon. 

November 10, 2017

You 2:21 PM: Thank you for the poppies Jake. They are even more beautiful than last years bouquet. Miss you so much. 

Jake 3:04 PM: Anything for you, Y/N. Happy Birthday. 

February 18, 2018

Jake 7:34 PM:  *Open in Spotify*  - Bad Company - Call On Me

You 7:45 PM: I remember listening to this album in your car non stop senior year lol

Jake 7:48 PM: Still one of the very best. I always think of you when I hear that one though. 

You 7:50 PM: Even if I called on you I don’t think you could get here very quickly. Last I saw on Instagram you guys were in Belgium. 

Jake 7:54 PM: We are, but all you need to do is say the word, Pops. 

You 8:00 PM: Miss you. 

Jake 8:01 PM: Miss you more. 

April 4, 2019

Jake 7:48 PM: My mom said she got your graduation invitation in the mail today. So proud of you Y/N. 

You 8:21 PM: It feels like it went by so fast. I can’t believe it’s over. I actually just received my acceptance letter from the University of Michigan today. I’m officially going to Law School. 

Jake 8:30 PM: You continue to amaze me Poppy. I’m glad we both get to live our dreams. 

You 8:32 PM: ❤️

University of Michigan Law School - Ann Arbor, Michigan

August 12, 2019

You 7:52 AM: I’m freaking out, what if I can’t do this Jake

Jake 8:00 AM: what?

You 8:01 AM: It’s my first day of classes at UofM

Jake 8:02 AM: Do you think I wasn’t petrified the first time I stepped onto a real stage? I know you can do this P. If I can do that, you can do this. You can do anything. 

You 8:03 AM: Thanks Jake

Jake 8:05 AM: Call me later and let me know how it went. We are on break for the next week so I’m free whenever. 

November 10, 2019

You 3:47 PM:  Jake! You’re so sweet. Gorgeous flowers, but I have to know how you got my new address?  

Jake 3:50 PM: Don’t worry about that, I have my ways. Happy Birthday my girl. I’ll call soon. 

University of Michigan Law School - Ann Arbor, Michigan

May 18, 2020

You can faintly hear a persistent buzzing, the sound pulling you from your sleep. You realize it’s your phone buzzing away on your nightstand with an incoming call. You roll over, reaching for it in the darkness of the room, noticing the time on your alarm clock says 2:47 AM. You wipe the sleep from your eyes as they adjust to the harsh light of your phone, but that's not what really wakes you. It’s the name on the screen that has you sitting up straight in your bed. 

“Jake?” you breathe, sliding your thumb against the glass. “Hello?” you answer groggily. 

“Poppy…” he replies, his voice deep and gravely. 

“Jake, what's wrong, is everything okay? It's like 2:30 in the morning?” you rush out, your heart starting to pound. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby doll,” he answers, “I just…I needed to hear your voice.”

You can hear the slurring in his words and you know he's had too much to drink. That, and he hasn’t called you that pet name in years, “What’s going on, Jake? You don’t sound okay.”

He’s silent for a moment, seemingly gathering the right words to say, “‘M fine, Pops. It’s just been a bad day. Hell, it’s been a bad week. A bad month. Everything is fucking exploding in our faces.”

“What do you mean?” you ask nervously, clutching your sheets in your fist.

He lets out a deep sigh, “God, everythings just falling apart. With the album, with tour–” he cuts himself off. There’s another pause before he speaks again. “It’s just all such a mess and I miss you, Pops. I miss you so damn much. I don’t know if I can do all of this.”

“What? What do you mean? Is it because of all this Covid stuff?” you ask.

“That, and so many other things. We had all these plans to release the new album and tour and then everything came to a screeching halt. We’re essentially in lockdown now, and I don't know when we will start up again. I can’t just sit, Pops, you know that. I just can’t,” he sighs heavily. “But it’s not just that,” he pauses for a moment, his words becoming a little more slurred, “There’s a million things, and I know I sound so whiny, but–”

“No, go ahead, get it all out. Tell me. I'm here. I'm listening.”

“I don't even know how to put it all into words. There’s just so much. The pressure, the uncertainty, the loneliness of it all, the shit with the label, my parents calling all the time asking what's going on, Josh bitching everytime something doesn’t go his way. Nothing is going right,” he pauses, “and you're not here.”

“I know. I know I'm not, but I think I understand a little bit at least. All my classes are virtual right now, finals and everything. It’s not how I ever imagined Law School going.  I don't think I have left my apartment in weeks. I haven’t talked to a real person in a while. It's scary and everything is uncertain right now. I get it Jake. I do, and I miss you. I miss you so much.” you answer.

“Yeah, exactly,” he sighs, “I just feel like– everything is going wrong and falling apart and I don’t know how to stop it. I just want…I want you,” he pauses, “I want you here. Things would be better if you were here. You would know what to do.”

“Well, where are you? Are you…at home or–”

“I’m locked in this fucking house in Nashville. Feel like a fuckin’ prisoner. All I can do is play guitar and write and drink,  and– I just need out.” he groans. 

“Nashville...You–You live in Nashville now? In a house? I had no idea you guys left Michigan.”  you say a little despondently.

“See, this is exactly what I mean. I want you to know these things. You deserve to know. I– I should’ve called. But, yeah, we got a place last year. Me and Josh. It made sense with us starting to record and touring, being centrally located and all that. But it’s not my permanent home. This is not what I want.” he adds hastily.

“Yeah, I understand, that makes sense, I just didn't know,” you pause, “I wish- I mean, how far are you from Ann Arbor? You know you can always come visit for a while. I’ll be busy with school work but at least we could…” you trail off. 

“I’d say maybe…six hours, give or take,” he answers, and his mind starts to wander a little. “I wish I could just hop in the car and come to you. I miss your face. Just you, in general,” he says, the drunken honesty coming through. “But the label has us on fucking lockdown. Can’t leave the city even if we wanted to.”

“Oh. Okay. I understand.” you answer, pain coloring your tone. 

He picks up on your change in tone, his voice growing a bit more sober, “Shit, no, P. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t want you to feel like I wouldn’t just drop everything and come to you right now, you gotta believe me. I wish I could. I’d  leave now and be there by morning.”

“No, Jake it’s fine, I get it. I was just daydreaming.” you answer, swallowing thickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I feel like everything has just been too much and I just wanted to hear your voice. But I shouldn’t have called you like this, I know you’ve got a lot of stuff going on with school right now. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my bullshit.” he says, his voice sounding just as pained as yours. 

“Never apologize for that Jake. That’s what I’m here for. I want to know, and I know you would do the same for me if the roles were reversed.”

“I’d do anything for you, Y/N. You know that I would,” he responds, his words almost a whisper now. You can still hear the buzz of alcohol in his voice, but now it’s only a slight slur instead of drunken rambling. “You were always my person. My safe place.”

“And you’re mine,” you whisper. 

You can hear him sigh heavily on the other line, and the two of you let a comfortable silence fall over the line. You’re both lost in your thoughts, just content to hear the other breathe. He finally breaks the silence, his voice quiet and hoarse, “When I get out of this hell hole, I’m coming to find you. I need to see you again. It can’t be another year without you.”

“You know where to find me,” you grin. 

“Yeah, I do,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, just listening to you breathe. “I should let you get some sleep. You got school and work and… life to deal with tomorrow, huh?”

“Sadly, yes. But, I– enjoyed this. I’ve missed your voice. It’s nice to lay here with my eyes closed and pretend like it's old times.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, “This was good. I feel better now, I really do. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. We’ve got a lot to catch up on…and I’m sorry I had to be drunk to find the balls to call you.” he giggles. “Can I call you again sometime soon? Preferably when I’m a little more sober?”

“Please do,” you answer with a laugh. 

He laughs softly along with you, the sound of his laugh is familiar yet different after all this time, “Okay, I’ll call you soon then. I promise. Goodnight, my  Pops.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

Detroit, Michigan

March 13, 2022

 

“And send,” you whisper to yourself, finally leaning back in your office chair as the email flies into the ether. You let out a deep exhale, checking the time. Only one more hour before you leave for the day. You take in your surroundings, seeing your colleagues still busy and working away on case files and reports. It wasn’t easy landing this job and it has been taxing to say the least, but in a few years you would be up for partner and you would do anything to make your dream a reality. Today though, you were leaving a little earlier than usual. You had plans tonight, plans you weren’t one hundred percent sure you should follow through with, but it had been years after all, and part of you is dying to see him. Jake. 

You’d been following along with the band's success for years now, watching them grow to crazy levels of fame in such a short amount of time. You think back to the night Jake called you, so worried about the new album, and now it was their most successful release to date. It truly was incredible and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see them play it live. And tonight, you would. 

When you saw that they had plans to play in Saginaw you knew you had to make the drive. You requested the time off and now today was the day. Your heart has been in your throat all day waiting for it to drop to your stomach the moment you see him on stage tonight. It only took a few messages with Karen to find out that you had standing tickets waiting for you. Stating that ‘Jake wouldn’t have it any other way’. You could tell she missed him, missed all her boys actually, and you knew the pain all too well.

You knew he would look different, from the pictures you’d seen you could tell his hair was longer, and his boyish figure was now that of a man. But he wasn't the only one, all of the guys' looks had changed dramatically, and part of you felt like you hardly knew them anymore. You had no plans of telling Jake that you would be there tonight, you wanted to see him play a good show without the burden of knowing you were out in the crowd watching. You have your outfit picked out and waiting for you on your bed, knowing you only had a few quick minutes to change and get on the road when you clocked out at the office for the day. Now, all there was left to do was wait. 

The traffic couldn’t have been worse. The freeway was congested with an accident and roadwork, and as your hands gripped the steering wheel  you began to feel nervous that you might not make it in time. You pushed away the nervous feeling, turning up the volume of the music playing through your car speakers. You’d done your research, listening to the new album a hundred times over, and tonight you’d put that knowledge to the test as you tried your best to sing along with every song they would play. As you sang along now, you let go of your stress and relaxed into the music, watching as miraculously the road cleared in front of you and you continued on your way to Saginaw. 

With your ticket in hand you searched for your seat in the crowd, finding yourself surrounded by familiar faces. Faces you hadn’t seen since you left home. It felt like a big reunion in section 102, and you couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face if you tried. When you finally found your seat you looked up to see Karen sitting a seat away, turning to face you as you sat down next to her. 

“Oh honey, you made it,” she cooed, pulling you in for a hug. 

“Yeah, yeah I did! Got stuck in some terrible traffic leaving Detroit, I didn’t know if I was going to make it on time.” you answer, waving hello to a few other friendly faces around you. 

“I am so glad you’re here, I haven’t seen you in years! You really should come home and see everyone soon. We all miss you!” she says, with a soft smile, “I’m glad he sat you with us. Right where you should be.”

You give her a confused look and she laughs. 

“Look around, you’re in the family section,” she pauses, and suddenly you realize shes right. “I can’t wait to see them play tonight, it’s been a year or so.”

“Well I guess I should confess that I haven't seen them since their first little tour. I think they were openers. It was back in college.”

“Oh well, you’re in for a surprise then. They are just fantastic now, they’ve really stepped it up since then. Oh, Jake is going to be so happy to see you.” she gushes. 

“I actually didn’t tell him I was coming,” you pause, “we haven’t talked in a little while. He’s been busy touring and I’m working at a firm now. Life hasn’t been the best to our friendship.” you confess. 

“Oh honey I hate to hear that. You’ll have to come with me after the show to see everybody. I’m sure they would all love to say hello.” she offers. 

“Like backstage? I don’t know. Maybe. I–”

“No excuses, we’re going.” she smiles, just as the lights dim and music begins to play through the arena. 

Your heart is positively thumping in your chest as you hear what you believe to be Josh’s voice as he talks over a piece of music. You feel your insides grow warm as he talks, your eyes filling with tears as you listen to the beautiful words he's crafted. The crowd explodes in cheers full of anticipation as the arena goes black and the curtain covering the stage begins to flash with red lights. 

You’re scared of what you will see when the curtain drops. Scared of the changes you’ll see in their faces, the changes you’ll notice in their playing, but mostly you’re scared that he may not recognize you if he does see you, because that would crush you. 

Suddenly the curtain falls down to the ground as loud music begins to fill the arena. Your eyes are immediately on Jake, his long dark hair and his two piece suit. He looks so amazing you feel like you could fall to your knees right here in the stands. But then, he spots you, and for that few seconds it’s just the two of you there in that arena. 

 A wave of shock sets in as soon as his eyes land on you. For a brief moment you can hardly believe that it’s real, that you’re  seeing him  in person and not just in the memories that haunt you during the dark hours of night. But there he is, living his dream right in front of your very eyes. 

He stands in front of the crowd, guitar in hand. The bright spotlight is so white it almost hurts your eyes, but once your vision adjusts you’re struck by the sight of him. He’s slightly sweaty and disheveled, his jacket open  and hair already sweaty and messy. He’s never looked more handsome than he does standing on that stage. He stands still for a moment, the shock of seeing you here has shaken him to the core, that is obvious to you. But he quickly shakes it off, and continues with the show, playing for the crowd that is screaming his name.

By the third song you are having to pick your jaw up off the floor. The way he is working the crowd is a vast difference from the last time you watched him play, still shy and unsure of himself on stage. He’s got a presence to him now, a confidence that you don’t remember seeing when you first watched him play years before. It shows in the way he moves on the stage, in the way he plays to the crowd, and in the way he works the guitar like it’s an extension of himself. He plays his heart out for the next hour, his movements smooth and precise. Jake is in his element just like he always knew he would be. 

The encore is upon you, and you can’t wait for him to be back on stage. Finally, he bounds up to the stage again, his energy and excitement at an all time high. You can tell he’s having the time of his life, the lights and cheers making him feel like he could fly. Josh is right behind him, grabbing the microphone and beginning to speak. “Thank you all for an incredible night,” he yells to the crowd, “But we’re not done yet. How about another one?” The room fills with loud cheers again. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as Jake turns his body to look at you, pointing his guitar in your direction as he acknowledges you. Your cheeks are on fire as he sends you a smile, Karen grabbing your arm as she watches the interaction. 

“Told you he’d be happy to see you,” she shouts over the music. 

You feel overwhelmed with emotion and excitement; not just by the fact that he spotted you in this giant crowd, but also by the fact that he is so clearly expressing a level of happiness because you’re here right now. The connection you feel to him is unlike anything you’ve felt in a long time.

He finishes the show with his heart on his sleeve. It ends on an incredibly high note, and he takes one last bow to the crowd as they start to leave. He starts walking off the stage, Josh in tow and you realize that now, you will go backstage with Karen and you’ll  have to face him. 

“Alright honey, you up for saying hello?” she asks, both of you making your way out of the aisle and towards the floor. 

Your body is shaking with nerves as you answer her, “Yeah, I should. It’s been too long.”

You and Karen make your way to the back where the band is waiting, still a little winded from the show. A few roadies are already packing up the stage equipment, and the crew is helping to dismantle the set. There is so much going on behind the scenes that you had no clue about. So many moving parts and pieces. 

Karen ushers you back towards the dressing rooms, each of the guys having their own space to dress and prepare. When did they get so fancy?

“Okay, Jake should be right through there, I’m going to go find Josh. Come find me if you need anything.” she says, leaving you at his dressing room door. 

Your hands are shaking, you’re unsure if you’ll even be able to raise your hand to knock. You smooth out your skirt and take a deep breath, fixing your hair a little as you try to calm your nerves. It’s Jake. It’s just Jake. 

Finally getting over the shock and nervousness, you knock softly on the door. You hear shuffling behind the door and your heart starts to pound in your ears. You hear him call out through the door, “Just a minute.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as you hear his voice through the door. It sounds like he’s just getting out of the shower, and with a towel wrapped around his waist he opens the door. The shock on his face is undeniable as he sees you standing there. He was expecting anything but you. “Pops,” he whispers, saying your name as if he were trying to convince himself that you were real.

“H-hi Jake,” you stammer, your nerves making themselves known. 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you in disbelief. He’s still dripping wet from the shower, beads of water running down his bare chest. His face relaxes and a familiar softness sets in, a soft smile crossing his face. “You’re really here.” His gaze roams over your body, drinking in every inch.  

“Yeah, I'm here. You were–you were so amazing, I–”

It’s as if the sound of your voice brings a wave of peace over him, and before you know it he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his body still damp from the shower. He pulls you against him, your body pressed to his bare chest. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and you can feel his breath on  your skin as he holds you. “I’m so fucking happy to see you,” he murmurs. 

You hug him back, feeling all the guilt and nerves melt away from you, in a way that only he can manage. You can feel the water starting to seep through your clothes, and you pull away, looking between you with a smile. “You're wet, and naked,” you laugh. 

He blushes at your words, suddenly remembering that he’s still just wrapped in a towel. “Shit,” he says, feeling an unusual shyness that he usually doesn’t feel around you. He steps back to the side of the door, holding it open for you to enter as he gives you a nervous smile. “Come in, just give me a sec and I'll change.”

“I can wait out here if you want, I know that we–”

“No, come in Pops. Please,” he says firmly, the towel still wrapped around him. It’s still hard to take your eyes off of his bare chest, but you walk into the room, trying to keep your focus on anything but him, not wanting to stare too long. 

You watch as he saunters across the room, his long brown hair down to the middle of his back now, and dripping with water. You swallow harshly as your eyes travel over the curve of his ass in the towel, but you pull your eyes away before he turns around. He grabs a bag and slips into the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind him. You can hear a nasty cough come from behind the door and you furrow your brows. Is he sick?

You stand there by the couch, suddenly noticing the small bottle of cough syrup sitting at the edge of the side table. A few moments later, he emerges from the bathroom, dressed in worn jeans and a clean white t-shirt. He sits down on the couch and he lets out another few coughs, trying to clear his throat as he looks up at you. “Sit down,” he says, gesturing towards the spot next to him on the couch. 

You take a seat next to him, and let out a soft breath. “Are you feeling okay?” you ask. 

The cough is still in his throat, but he nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just have this damn cough that I can’t seem to shake.” He looks you up and down, finally being able to observe you as closely as he wants to since you showed up at the venue. “You look great,” he says, a warm smile on his lips. 

You blush at his words, your eyes meeting his. The one thing about him that’s stayed the same over the years. “Thank you,” you say shyly. 

His smile turns into a grin, the same boyish smile that you’ve always loved. “Of course.” He lets his gaze linger on your face, drinking you in as if he’s trying to memorize every little detail. He’s unable to keep his hands to himself, and before you know it he’s reached towards you. His fingers wrap around your wrist, and he gently pulls your arm towards him.

The feeling of his skin against yours causes the dam to break, “Jake, I–”

He doesn’t let go as he lets both of your hands rest in his lap. That same electricity that used to pass between you is there, and you can tell that the connection you’ve always had is as strong as ever despite the distance. He speaks softly, knowing how heavy the air between you two is. “I know.”

“No, please I–” you start, but you’re quickly cut off as the dressing room door flies open and a blonde woman, around the same age as you steps inside. 

The sudden intrusion is like a bucket of ice water, and you pull your hands away from him as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. He looks back at you, his expression soft and apologetic before he looks up at the new presence in the room. You look over at Jake, expecting to see some kind of reaction from him, but he actually just looks mildly annoyed.

“Hey, Viv,” he answers, turning his body to face her. She looks between the two of you, an expression on her face you can’t quite decipher.

She gives him a small smile, and she doesn’t even glance in your direction as she walks into the room. You try to stay as small as possible, as if trying not to be seen. She crosses her arms as she stands on the other side of the room. “How did the show go?” she asks, her voice is casual and unbothered. You suddenly feel like you shouldn’t be here. 

“Was fine, got a little winded and lightheaded by encore,” he answers and she nods her head. 

“Well, the crowd was big tonight and it got hot, plus all the lights. That'd make anybody winded,” she says, still keeping her focus on him. You sit there, feeling slightly uncomfortable, wondering why she seems so comfortable in his space. She starts to dig around in the bag on her shoulder and you turn to look at Jake. 

The whole situation feels weird, and you don't understand why she is just standing there, going through her purse, while you and Jake sit there. His eyes flick over to you and you can see slight annoyance in them as he looks back at her.

Then it hits you like a ton of bricks. She’s not just some stranger. She’s here with Jake. For Jake. Oh god how could you be so stupid. Of course he’s seeing someone. You quickly shoot up, grabbing your bag and tossing it over your shoulder as quickly as you can, feeling so stupid to think tonight would be the night you’d work things out. She’s waiting for you to leave. 

Jake’s eyes go wide as he sees what you’re doing, “Wait, no, Pops, where are you going?” He stands up from the couch, reaching his hand out to grab your arm but you pull away from him.

“I’m sorry– I didn’t know. I– You were amazing tonight, I’m sorry I–I didn’t know you— I’ll go–” you stammer, making your way to the door.  

Jake practically lunges across the room, reaching the door at the same time you do. He turns you around to face him, the panic in his eyes apparent. “No, don’t go, let me explain–”

“No, no, you don’t have to. I understand. I shouldn’t have come back here. I don’t belong back here. I’m sorry,” you mumble pushing your way through the heavy wooden door.

“Poppy!” you hear him shout, his voice echoing through the busy hallway as you search for the nearest exit. You don’t turn around. You refuse to look back and let him see you like this. Your heart is absolutely more crushed than it ever has been, but you should have expected it. He is a rockstar and you’re…just Y/N.

He moved on, he found someone else to confide in. Someone that matches him. Someone else to trust with his secrets. Someone else to think of day and night, and finally you understand how he felt that night so long ago. Replaced. 

You hear his voice fade as you walk out of the venue, leaving your heart behind you in a single, devastating moment. The warm night is replaced by a cold breeze as you step out, the tears falling down your face as you realize the past was just that. The past.

Frankenmuth, Michigan

December 31, 2022

The air is frigid outside, you’re sure this is the coldest winter you’ve ever experienced, even growing up here. There aren’t enough layers in the world, let alone in your suitcase. Thankfully in just two days you will be back home in Detroit where it's not too much warmer, but definitely not as cold as Frankenmuth. You’ve been home for the last two weeks visiting your parents, not seeing them nearly enough since you started at the law firm after graduation. It’s been nice to be home, but something about it feels different now. You are riddled with nostalgia and the memories seem to come back with a vengeance the longer you’re here. Memories you have all but pushed away lately, not letting them into your heart as you once did. Currently you and your parents are sitting in front of the fireplace sipping on wine as you watch the Rockin’ New Year’s Eve special on TV. The wine is warming you up a bit, but not nearly enough. 

You’ve now brushed off dozens of invites from co-workers and even some old friends who are out on the town tonight, celebrating ringing in the new year. You know you should go, but something is telling you not to. Even your parents asked why you’re spending the evening at home instead of seeing old friends. You wish you had a good answer for them, but you don't.

“You really should go, honey,” your mom continues, finishing off her glass of red. “You’re only young once.”

“I know, but I just…I feel so disconnected from this place. I haven’t talked to these people since highschool,” you pause, “I just feel like I’m better off here.”

“I agree with your mother, hon,” your dad adds, “It will be good for you to get out. All you do is work these days. You deserve a night off.”

You let their words sink in as you look at your phone, seeing the ignored text from your old friend Isabelle begging you to meet her at Tiffany’s for a drink. Honestly, the thought of stepping into that bar again rattles you. 

“Just one drink hon, ring in the new year,” your dad says, sending you an encouraging wink. 

You look at her text again and let out a sigh, “Alright, fine. Maybe you’re right. It would be okay to let loose just a little. Tonight of all nights.”

“Thatta girl,” he says, nodding his head. 

With the decision made you text Isabelle back, letting her know you will meet her there in thirty as you rush upstairs to change into something that isn't sweatpants and a hoodie.

 It’s an eerie feeling walking into this bar, a place you used to frequent so often, so long ago. It’s been years since you've been back but it's exactly the same as you left it. The dining patrons are long gone, making way for the locals that use the bartop as their own personal therapy space, but tonight it’s a little different. It’s New Year's Eve and the bar is filled with unfamiliar faces. Of course, there are a few you recognize from high school, that much you expected. The air in the bar is much warmer than the air outside, thanks to the large group of people filling the small space. The lights are dim and music is playing from the old jukebox in the corner. The floor is already sticky from spilled drinks, and the air smells faintly of cigarettes. 

“I’m gonna grab a drink, what do you want?” Isabelle asks, snaking her way through a group of people. 

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” you answer, knowing it doesn't really matter. 

She disappears into the crowd and you look around in search of a table you can ditch your jacket at. Most are taken, but you spot one in a corner with no occupants. You walk briskly towards it, throwing your jacket down onto the inevitably sticky table top as you sit and wait for Isabelle. You let your eyes wander through the bar picking out familiar faces, and even taking in some new ones, but you can’t seem to shake the feeling of uneasiness you’ve had since you walked through the door. Something is different, you just don’t know what. 

A few minutes later a drink is placed in front of you that looks to be a whiskey and coke, and you secretly cheer that it's not something overly sweet. 

“Made them a double cause the lines’ a bitch,” she says, taking her first gulp.

“Good call,” you smile, taking your own sip and letting the bubbles burn the back of your throat. Maybe your dad was right. You did need this. You and Isabelle sit and talk for a little while, letting the alcohol seep into your system and cast away your cares. But then you hear something. Something you haven’t heard in a long time. A song from long ago that has made a permanent home in your memories. 

Through the crappy speakers you hear the opening notes to “Good Lovin’ Gone Bad” by Bad Company. You smile to yourself, thinking back on just how many times Jake played that album that summer. You both had practically every single lyric memorized by the time you left for college. A pang shoots through your chest as you picture him in your mind, and your mood suddenly sours. 

“Hey, I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick,” you pause, “Save our table?”

“Duh, see you in a few,” she says, taking another gulp of her drink. 

You begin to make your way to the bathroom, needing a minute to yourself to freshen up and get Jake out of your head. You finally make your way to the opposite side of the bar, the bathrooms in your sight. But much to your surprise, something else oddly familiar catches your eye and your heart lurches up to your throat. No. It can’t be. 

His back is towards you, but you would recognize his shoulders and hair anywhere. You spot him with a group of guys, all drinking and having a good time. A wave of nostalgia hits hard, remembering how things were back in the day before you both went your separate ways and he shot to stardom. The way you could walk up to him without second guessing it. Now you’re not so sure you can. 

You try to turn around and walk away, knowing it's best to just go, but something has you frozen to the floor. You can see the way he holds the crowd at the bar, telling stories and cracking jokes in the same way he did at parties back in high school. He's a star in every sense of the word, but when the laughter fades for a second, you can almost see the sadness underneath it all. 

He doesn’t notice you, at least you think he doesn’t, as you push forward and rush into the bathroom. Your heart is pumping harder than it has in months and you feel like you might be sick. There is no way you are going to be able to get out of this bar without talking to him, so you decide you need to pull it together and pretend like he isn’t even here. 

You fix your make up, and smooth down your hair, taking a good long look in the mirror. You’ve got this. It’s just Jake. You take a few deep breaths and square your shoulders, preparing to face him and any uncomfortable conversation that may follow. You open the door and walk out into the bar, looking around as you do. You don't see him at the bar he was at before and for a split second your brain doesn't register that fact at all, but as you make your way out to the dance floor you look a few tables over and realize he is standing there, with his hands in his pockets watching you with the same intensity you’ve always seen from him.  

He looks so handsome and he doesn’t even know it. His long brown hair hanging over his shoulders, his corduroy shirt hanging open and messy over his t-shirt. He is exactly the Jake you’ve always known. The Jake you always wanted. There’s a mustache, too, you notice. The accent of hair, complimenting his upper lip in a way that has your entire chest heating. It’s the perfect touch to his pretty face, adding a masculine touch that you hadn’t known was necessary for his overall aura until this moment. 

Because god did he look impossibly more alluring with that addition. 

You know it’s only a matter of time before you two speak, and you have no idea what he is thinking. But for once, Jake doesn’t hide his feelings from you, his eyes are glued to you, refusing to look away. Willing you to come to him, and your body listens. 

You walk towards him, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if you're walking through quicksand. Your eyes stay locked on his face despite the nervousness running through your veins, and you can feel the electricity pouring off of him. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just stares at you. You can feel the memories of you together crashing through your head like a wave. You get closer and closer, the world around you fading away, until you’re standing right in front of him.

“It was you, wasn’t it. The song,” you ask, putting the pieces together immediately. “You knew I was here. You knew I would recognize it.”

His jaw clenches in response, and he lets a sad smile touch his lips before he says anything. “Yeah, it was. I saw you walk in. I knew it’d work,” he replies, the familiar rasp in his voice is softer than you remember, but still as deep and soothing as ever.

“Guess you were right,”  you smirk, watching as his body language starts to soften.

He lets a soft chuckle escape, and he relaxes a little bit. You can see the tension melting away from his shoulders. “Some things never change, huh?” he says, his eyes roaming over your face and body briefly, taking in every detail he can. 

“I didn’t know you were home,” you confess.

“I didn’t know you were home.” he says gently, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He looks down for a moment, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I should’ve told you.”

You nod your head, “I could’ve called you too,” you pause, biting your lip, “It’s just ever since that night–”

“That night was not what you think. I wish you would’ve let me explain, Pops.” he urges, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm. 

“It's- It's the past now Jake, you don't owe me anything,” you answer, the nickname searing a sore spot in your heart. 

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “You know exactly what I owe you. But I’m not going to talk to you about this in a bar, surrounded by all these people,” he drops his hand from your arm, running it through his hair instead. “Come with me, please.”

You look around for Isabelle, but of course she is nowhere to be found, “Okay.”

He leads you out the back door of the bar, into the cool winter air. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and grabs one, placing it between his teeth before lighting it just as quickly. He looks over at you for a moment, watching as you rub your arms to keep warm. “You’re cold,” he observes, noticing the goosebumps on your exposed skin.

“My jacket is inside,” you answer.

He shrugs off his corduroy shirt, draping it over your shoulders, before pulling you in a bit closer to him. The smell of tobacco and his cologne overwhelm your senses as he presses against your side. The heat radiating off of him is warm, and you instinctively bring the shirt closer around you, breathing in the familiar smell of him.

“Listen, Pops,” he pauses, taking another drag of his cigarette, “I’ve wanted to call you a hundred times since that night, explain what you think you saw…” 

It hurts you to know he's thought about it too. “So why didn't you?”

“I was scared,” he admits bluntly, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he does. “You are the last person that I ever wanted to hurt, believe me. But you didn’t even let me get a word in. You left and just…” he sighs. “I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. Still don’t. I think we are here right now in this shitty ass bar because the universe decided it was time for us to figure this shit out.”

“Maybe it is,” you agree. 

He lets out a long exhale of smoke, his breath visible in the cold air. “You’ve always been smarter than me,” he says, throwing his cigarette to the ground and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know where to start, but I need you to hear me out here.”

“I'm listening,” you answer. 

He paces to the edge of the sidewalk, running a nervous hand through his hair as he tries to compose himself. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “I know you think you know what you saw that night, but it wasn’t… That woman, Viv– Vivienne, she is our Tour Medic. Like our travel doctor. A few days before that show…I’d been sick. I didn’t want to admit it then, but I will now. I was sick, too sick. I shouldn’t have been performing. We needed to cancel those shows. I hid it the best I could, and I shouldn’t have and it made it all worse,” he pauses. “That night she came in to check on me after the show. I’d avoided her as long as I could and I think she just knew. She was coming to tell me that she was taking me to the hospital for my cough. She and I both knew it wasn’t normal and my time was up.”

“I– Yeah, I remember…I asked you…”

“I know. I know you did. Even you knew. I was going to tell you… But then, you– I don’t know you just freaked on me, and left. I wanted to explain but I wasn’t ready to admit what was going on.” he pauses, his lips trembling from the cold. “I went to the hospital that night and found out I had pneumonia. Bad. I– I was there for three days. I laid in that hospital bed and replayed you running out over and over again, Poppy. I wanted to call you and tell you but I just couldn’t. I was drained mentally and physically.”

“Jake, oh my god– I– I feel so stupid– I’m so sorry–”

“No, Pops, it’s not your fault. I know how it looked. I was just being too selfish to tell the truth.” he admits. “But now, you know.”

“You were in the hospital, Jake. I had no idea, I–We used to tell each other everything…What if something happened to you and I–” you trail off. 

His body tenses at your words, and his expression morphs into a mixture of guilt and regret. “No, you’re right,” he says, defeated. “I was just…ashamed, I guess, that my body was failing me. It was such a low point…But I shouldn’t have let you walk out like that. I should have chased after you.” He looks back over at you, your face illuminated by the glowing neon bar signs and slowly he brings his hand to cup your cheek. “I can’t believe I let you go.”

Suddenly you hear the inside of the bar erupt with cheering and the loud countdown starting. “It’s almost midnight,” you whisper. 

He looks back at the bar, then back at you, “I guess it is. I didn’t even realize it.” He says, his eyes glued to your face. The countdown gets closer and closer, and you can tell he is nervous. He looks almost afraid as he continues to talk. “I’ve really missed you, Y/N. I’ve thought about you so many times over these past few years, and it feels like no time has passed, but everything has changed,” he pauses, “I wish things could go back to the way it was.”

The world feels so still in this moment, even with all the ruckus inside the bar. “Ten seconds,” you note, eyes glued to his face as his warm hand rests on your cheek. He steps forward, his body so close to yours that you feel as though you’ll become one in this moment. The cold forgotten, his body almost feverish beside you. He runs his thumb across your cheek, his eyes glued to yours as the countdown gets lower and lower.

“Jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling with want. 

He takes another step closer, his body inches apart from yours, and his lips only a breath away from yours “Poppy,” he whispers, his hot, shaky breath caressing your skin as he does. “I need you.”

“Three, two, one…”

Everyone in the bar cheers all around you. He’s so close now, you can hear the sharp inhales that are escaping his lips, and in the moments after the chaos of the New Year erupts, he closes the distance between the two of you. His lips are on yours in seconds, his hand pulling you in, his touch soft and needy.

The kiss is slow, it’s as if time has frozen in this sweet, tender moment. His hands slide into your hair, bringing your face to his, wanting all of you. The kiss is quickly growing desperate and needy. He pushes you against the brick wall of the building, his body pressing into yours, your heart racing as his hand moves from your hair to your waist. He gently lifts your leg pulling it around his waist as this kiss of reunion deepens even more. It’s  filled with emotion and years of wanting, and your body is filled with an overwhelming sense of electricity.

He kisses you with everything he's got. His body craving your touch for so long. He pulls your body against his, wanting to feel every inch of you that he can. He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth effortlessly, as if he’s memorized every curve, every crevice. You feel your stomach churning with need for him. The need for more.

You bring your hands up to wrap around his shoulders, the kiss getting deeper and more desperate with each passing moment. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you tighter against his body, as if he can’t stand to have you away from him for even a second. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and he lets out a low moan, his need for you stronger than ever. It’s as if no time has passed at all. Suddenly you’re right back in his basement kissing him for the first time. 

You break the kiss, his name falling from your lips as your eyes open to meet his. “Jake...”

“P-Pops,” he stutters, struggling to find the words through his ragged breaths. “Fuck, I never should’ve let you go. It’s you, it’s always been you.” He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his grip on you just as tight, if not tighter. “You– You just light a fire in me that everyone else seems to put out.”

You let your lips press a soft kiss to the side of his jaw before moving to his ear, “I’ll always be the one with a match to bring you back.”

“Goddamnit, Poppy,” His eyes flutter shut, and you can see that the sensation of your lips on his skin has driven him towards a bliss he hadn't experienced in a long, long time. The way your body fits against his is as natural now as it's ever been. It's as if you were molded to fit in his arms– as if nothing else in the world could ever feel as perfect as this. “I never want to let you go. I'm so goddamn sick of letting you go,” he whispers.

The desire is growing between your legs, and you can feel the evidence of his pressed against your stomach. Instinctively you rub against him, causing a growl to leave his chest. You’re no longer eighteen in the basement. You’re adults who need more. 

He moves his body against yours, a low moan rising from his throat as he does. It’s as if he can feel the fire he’s lit up inside of you, and he’s desperate to fan the flames of the inferno that has always been there. “I’ve missed you so damn much,” he gasps, his hands starting to roam over your body. “Say you feel this. Say you feel it too.”

“I've always felt it Jake. Always.”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses, before sinking his teeth in gently. His hands are everywhere, as if he can't decide where he wants to touch first. He presses himself against you, his body flushed with need. “I want you,” he whispers, his words hot against your skin.

“I want you.” you pant, arching your neck to give him more. 

He takes full advantage, his lips and teeth working their way up and down your neck, leaving a trail of marks in their wake. He can feel your need growing, and he responds to it with his own. He presses his body against yours with a primal force, his hand moving  to cup your face, bringing your lips back to his. The kiss is hungry and needy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, searching for what he has been missing as his free hand  finds the waistband of your jeans. 

His hand begins to make a slow descent into your jeans, his rough fingertips sliding against your soft delicate skin. They brush the hem of your panties as his tongue continues to memorize yours. Your heart is pounding, your body aching for his touch where you need it most as the sound of “Auld Lang Syne” and distant fireworks boom around you. 

A soft sound of need escapes from the back of your throat, the anticipation of his touch building an excruciating ache between your thighs. He uses his thumb to brush against the front of your panties, teasing you, as he breaks the kiss to whisper against your skin. “Do you know how badly I want you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, before returning to your neck and biting down softly. 

You nod against him, still breathing harder than ever. He takes his time, his fingers running a lazy path against your skin, and you feel the heat growing between your legs as his touch gets closer.

He lets his fingers graze over the thin lace material of your underwear, gently tracing up and down in an agonizingly careful manner. His lips break away from your neck and move instead to your ear, his teeth taking the lobe gently. “I’ve dreamed about you like this, every night since the last time we touched,” he whispers, his voice raspy and low. “I’ve ached to feel your skin on mine, your body trembling under my touch.”

You feel his fingers move lower and lower until the heat of his touch is coated in your desire for him. “Jake,” you whine, totally lost in this moment with him. 

His breath catches in his throat when he feels just how much you want him, and he lets out a low moan that makes your whole body tremble. “Fuck,” he whispers, his fingers tracing slow circles over your warm sensitive flesh. His lips find their way back to your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin, making your spine tingle as you whine.

“Shhh,” he coo’s, silencing your whimpers with a soft kiss. He slips his fingers past the fabric, his touch growing more intense as he finally finds what he’s been craving this whole time. “So soft. So beautiful,” he gasps. He moves his hand in a gentle rhythm, his fingers slipping between your folds, finding your sweet spot effortlessly. You feel euphoric, and at complete mercy to his touch. “Can you feel me? Can you feel what you do to me?”

“Yes,” you whine, “I feel everything.”

His fingers move faster as they dip inside, trying to get as deep inside of you as he can, desperate to feel every inch of you. “I dreamed up a hundred different ways to make you fall apart in my arms,” he whispers, his eyes locking on yours, “and nothing comes close to reality. Come home with me, Pops. Stay with me.”

Just as you start to feel your release creeping closer, the bar door slams next to you, pulling you both from the moment. Your eyes snap to Jake’s and his to yours as he quickly realizes the compromising position you’re in, removing his hand from your jeans. 

He quickly steps back, straightening his shirt as you desperately try to regain your composure. You look around, hoping that whoever walked out of the bar doesn't look your way and catch you two in the state you were in. You're both panting, breaths ragged and desperate, and forced to ignore the needy ache that lingers between your legs.

It's as if a bucket of water has been dumped over your head, making you see clearly. Your eyes meet Jake's, his expression still waiting for you to answer his question. But as this rush of clarity takes hold of you, you realize exactly what you've done. 

Your eyes are glued to each other, but this now feels different. Everything feels different. It’s as if the air around you is suddenly thick with unspoken words, the gravity of the situation crashing down around you both. He’s just staring at you, his chest still heaving as he tries to slow his own breathing. He clears his throat, breaking the silence that hangs in the air. “Poppy…”

Your head begins shaking, “No, Jake, we– we can’t do this– we…”

You're at battle with your own mind, fighting for what you want versus what you know is right. 

His whole body goes rigid, the disappointment in your words written all over his face. He lets out a shaky breath, as if it physically pains him, “No– Don’t say that, we can, Poppy, please,” he begs softly.

“Jake we– we’re strangers. We know nothing about each other anymore. We– You’re a rockstar, you live in Nashville. I live in Detroit, I finally work for a firm. This is what we wanted. Isn’t it? This was our dream right? We can’t– You can’t…”

He swallows hard, trying to process what you’re telling him. You know you’re right, this is what you both wanted. He runs a nervous hand through his hair, his eyes looking for something to distract him from the crushing reality you just threw out in front of him.

“I know,” he whispers. He takes a deep breath, his mind and body still screaming to hold you. But the reality of it all is hitting you both like a train, and he’s trying desperately to keep his mind present in the moment. “I know all of that…I just–I don’t give a damn that I’m a rockstar, or that you live in Detroit,” he mutters, a defensive tone to his voice, “It’s you that’s missing, Pops. All day. All night. It’s you that’s in my head day in and day out. I want you. I always will. That is never going to change. We will never be strangers.”

Tears start to form in your eyes at his confession. You want to go with him. Run away and pretend nothing else matters. But it does, and you can’t. It can never be, no matter how badly you both want it.

His voice cracks, and he can feel the walls around his heart starting to crumble as he looks at you. He reaches out, taking your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek softly. “It’s always been you, Poppy. It will always be you,” he whispers, his hand continuing to graze over your skin as if he was trying to memorize every tiny detail. “So please, just– forget it all. Come home with me.”

Your lips begin to tremble, knowing that you’re about to break his heart. Again. “Jake… I can’t.” you say, letting a tear slip from your eye. 

You see the moment the weight of your words hits him, like a slow motion car crash that feels unavoidable. The look of complete defeat on his face makes you want to take it all back, tell him that you’re just as desperate as he is to throw everything aside. But you can’t. It’s just not possible. He lets his hands fall slowly from your face, and the space between your two bodies growing feels like your heart shattering all over again. “Okay.”

For some reason, that breaks you, your tears falling faster now as you see the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss him softly one last time. 

He returns your kiss with his own, gently taking your face in his palms. It’s as if he’s committing the feel of you to memory, the way he’s holding you, the way your lips fit so perfectly together. He doesn’t want to let go, and he holds the kiss as long as he can, until breathing becomes a desperate fight for air. When he finally does break the kiss, he whispers against your lips just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s still us, Pops.” and with that, he lets you go, leaving him there as small snow flurries begin to fall to the ground. 

With a heavy heart you finally make your way inside your childhood home, tossing your coat onto the couch. You collapse into your bed, letting the tears fall now that you’re alone in your solitude again. You can hear the snow falling harder now, tapping against your bedroom window.  You can still feel the faint remnants of his touch on your skin, his warmth lingering in your heart as you remember the taste of his lips. Jake. Your Jake. Yours for only minutes before you pushed him away. But you know it's for the best. 

You drag yourself up from the bed and change into your cozy pajamas, realizing you are still wearing Jake’s shirt. You bring it to your nose and breathe in his smell, sending you into a new round of tears. You put the shirt back on and crawl back into bed, needing to feel his presence close to you. You bring the neck of the shirt up, enveloping yourself in it like a blanket, your body still trembling with need.

It feels like it's been hours. You're exhausted, but your mind still won't put Jake to rest. There’s no escaping the fact that you're still just as hopelessly in love with him as you were the first time you met. As if he is thinking of you too, your phone buzzes next to your head, his name illuminating the screen with a text. 

Jake 1:42 AM: I keep thinking about what happened. I can still taste you on my lips. I know what you said, and I understand but I can’t let it be over, Pops. I just can’t.

Your heart shatters reading his message. You know how he feels because you feel the exact same way. You don’t even know what to say to him, so you just don’t. You lock your phone and put it back on your nightstand, turning off the lamp and attempting to sleep this terrible, beautiful night away. There is, however, an unbelievable thrum between your legs that you can’t seem to ignore. 

You toss and turn, trying so hard to sleep, but it’s pointless. The only thought going through your brain is of Jake. That deep need for him is building in intensity, your body wanting his touch desperately, your mind remembering every detail of the time you spent wrapped together against the building just an hour ago. You let your hand wander down beneath the sheets, your fingers pushing beneath the waistband of your pants.

He’s all you can think of. It’s as if the flood gates are now wide open, and you’re finally allowing yourself to let Jake occupy every space in your mind and body, and there is nothing else you need. You close your eyes, but all you can see is Jake’s face. His strong, handsome features, the way his lips form as he speaks…

With your eyes shut tight, you picture his body hovering over yours. The scent of him, his touch, the way his body felt against yours as he leaned into you. You let yourself fantasize about him being here with you, wanting you and only you. You imagine the way his lips felt all over your skin, the way he let his teeth graze over your neck and collarbone. The memory of it makes you shiver and your fingers work faster and faster, seeking the release you’ve craved for so long.

You feel like you’re right at the peak of surrendering to this imaginary version of him, when you hear your phone start to ring. Your eyes shoot open as you pull your hand from under your sheets. You reach for your phone but this time your brain is too hazy to think clearly. You see his name on the screen, along with a picture of him you set as his photo years ago. Against your better judgement you slide your thumb across the screen, needing to hear his voice. 

“Hello?” you breathe, your voice coming out as a breathy pant. 

His voice sounds soft and vulnerable, “Hey…” he breathes, sighing on the other end of the line, “I didn’t think you’d answer…I was just laying here, can’t sleep. I don’t know why I called, I just, I saw you read my text earlier and you didn’t answer– I don’t want this to be us. I never want that.”

“I know,” you pause, trying to even your breathing, “I'm sorry.”

“How can this be it?” his voice sounds strained now, the emotion in it pulling at your heart, “How is this the end? I can't make sense of it, all I can think about is you.”

Hearing his deep, gravely voice has your hand slipping back under the sheets, resuming its previous work. “I– I never said it was the end…”

“The way you walked away sure made it seem that way,” he says, and it breaks you in two. 

“It took everything I had Jake, you have to know that,” you say, your voice even more breathy than before and you know that you need to calm down before he takes notice, but the sound of his voice has your hand continuing to move. 

He notices the slight change in your tone, picking up on the way your breathing gets more shallow and more uneven, “Are…Are you okay? You sound…different. Where are you? You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“I'm at home now. In my bed,” you pause, breathing into the phone, “Where are you?”

He lets out a shaky sigh into the phone. You know he’s figured it out, and if you know him like you think you do he isn’t going to change the subject. 

He wants nothing more than to be there, to hear every noise he could pull out of you, to feel every shiver and tremble as he worships every inch of your body. “I’m…I’m in my bed too. But I haven’t turned the light off yet.”

“Turn it off, Jake,” you breathe. 

Your self control is gone. You want this. No, you need this.

You can hear him inhale a sharp, stuttering breath, a quiet, breathy moan escaping him as he takes in your words. He knows what you’re asking for. He’s wanted it in some form for years. The phone jostles a few times before he says, “Done.”

You hum in response, continuing to run your fingers through your soaking wet folds. Something about the sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne wrapped around you has you soaking in this moment and throwing your cares to the wind. 

“Let me send an Uber, Poppy, please,” he manages to breathe, the desperation in his words sending a shiver down your spine. “Come to my hotel. I fucking hate not finishing what I start.”

“So finish it,” you tease. 

“God damn. Get in the Uber, Y/N.”

“No, no Uber. Just this. Just...talk to me Jake,” you whine.

His breath catches in his throat and he lets out a groan, the sound going straight to your core. You can hear him moving around in his bed, shifting to a more comfortable position, the sheets rustling as he does. You know he wants to touch himself, but he’s trying to resist. “I don’t know if I can just talk. Not knowing you’re…like that.” 

“For what it’s worth, you felt better,” you confess in an airy breath. 

“Fuck, Pops,” he groans, “You don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about you like that. I’d die to have you on my fingers again.”

“I want you,” you breathe, “But I know this is the only way I can have you.”

He is quiet for a bit, the only sounds you can hear from him are the heavy breaths he’s trying so hard to control. You’re picturing it all, imagining exactly what he looks like on the other end of the line.“You can have me,” he whispers, his voice low and rough, “I’m all yours, baby.”

“You've never been mine, Jake…”

“I’ve always been yours,” his words are spoken quickly, his voice almost a pleading whine. “I’ve always been yours. You’ve always been mine. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His words sear through you, your fingers circling your clit faster now, causing a whine of pleasure to leave your chest. 

“Fucking hell, Poppy.” His voice comes through the phone, raw and ragged. “Are you…Is there a way…Can I see you at least?”

You think about it for a second, and you know the sight of him will send you straight to that sweet release you've been chasing all night. “Only if you join me…” you counter. 

“Do you think my hand isn’t already wrapped around my cock, listening to you whimper like that? Thinking about you touching yourself in all the ways I’ve dreamed of?”

“Show me, Jake.” you breathe. 

You quickly switch your phone to Facetime, your thumb hesitating over the call button. You know that there’s no coming back from this, but you can’t help yourself. You need to see him, and you’re not going to let your fear stop either of you from taking what you both want. “Answer the call.”

You press the button and watch as his face fills your screen, his chest heaving with each ragged breath he takes, his silver necklace laying against his body. He’s propped up against the headboard, his skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat that makes your body heat up even more. “You…” he whispers, “God, look at you. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Jake…” you moan his name, your hand moving faster and faster.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty. I can’t….I need…” he stops, unable to find the right words.

You stop suddenly, realizing that he can’t see that much of you. “Hold on,” you say, dropping your phone to the bed as you peel your shirt over your head, leaving your chest exposed. This will be the first time he’s seen you like this, but you feel more confident than ever. You prop your phone up on a pillow, allowing him the full visual of you. 

He sucks in a sharp breath as your shirt comes off, his eyes going wide as he stares at your bare chest, completely mesmerized by you. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You are so perfect. It’s not even possible that someone is this perfect,” You watch his hand move, disappearing under the sheets and moving slowly down his body until he starts to move the sheets so you can watch. “I want you to see me, too.”

It’s dark but you watch as he props his phone up the same way, giving you the exact same view. His cock is hard and throbbing in his hand, bigger than you ever dreamed of, but exactly what you felt beneath his pants at the bar tonight. “Jake, I wish–”

“Say it,” he responds quickly, unable to wait another second to hear your words. He’s almost painfully hard right now, but he needs to hear it all. “Please say it, baby. Talk to me.”

The new pet name sends you spiraling, admitting things you would never admit in the light of day. “I want to feel you. I need to know how you would feel inside of me. I need you, Jake. All of you,” you whine, watching his hand stroke his cock a little faster. 

“Fuck, I��ve never wanted anything like I want that. I need you, too. I need to feel every single inch of your body. I need to do all the things I’ve dreamed about. You have no idea how many times I’ve laid here thinking of you. Wishing that I had you in my bed.” He stops his hand, trying to keep his mind together. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” you answer. 

He pauses for a moment, as if he’s afraid to give in to the moment completely. But his need for you is stronger than his common sense. “Take your panties off, but don't touch yourself again. Not until I tell you to. I want you to listen, I want you to feel this.”

You comply, sliding your panties over your legs and tossing them to the floor. He can see all of you now, your wetness glowing in the dim light of the phone. 

“You’re everything,” he moans softly, his hand moving again. “You are as perfect now as you’ve ever been. I can’t believe I’m seeing you like this.”

“Tell me what to do, Jake,” you plead.

The control he’s desperately trying to keep is starting to crack. Every part of him is wanting to rip that phone from his hand and be there with you. “Touch your inner thighs,” he requests, his voice sounding low and strained. “Just your thighs, don’t touch anywhere else.”

You comply, running your fingers over your thighs as the sound of his voice gives you goosebumps.

He watches you, his eyes glued to the way your fingers move over your skin. His hand slowly working over himself, his need to touch you growing. “Good girl…Does it feel good to touch your skin?” he asks, his hand moving faster. 

“Yes, but I wish it was you,” you admit, your legs starting to shake with anticipation. 

​​“I know,” he whispers, “I know, babydoll. You have no idea how desperately I need it to be my hands.” He bites the inside of his cheek, fighting back the words he wants to say.

“Jake,” you practically moan his name, your back arching as the need for him consumes you from the inside out. You let your eyes flutter closed as you let your hands roam over that most sensitive part of you. “It feels so good but it’s not enough. I need to…I need…” you plead, your whimpers filling the void between you.

He can’t take it anymore. Your desperate whimper has shattered the last bit of his resolve, leaving only pure desire in its place. As much as he wants to watch, to see every bit of you come unraveled, he can’t stand it anymore. He has to see you. “Look at me, baby.”

Your eyes flick to his, seeing them dark and blown out with lust. 

“Spread your legs, let me see you,” he growls, and slowly you do as he says, placing the phone back down against the pillow. 

Watching you spread your legs is the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. The way you’re trembling underneath your own touch makes him let out a soft moan, his hand starting to work faster. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, completely entranced by you. “Touch your clit for me, baby.”

Your hand moves without hesitation as his words ignite something inside of you. He gasps, completely hypnotized by everything he’s seeing. “Slowly, baby,” he whispers, drinking every moment in. “Don’t rush it.”

Your fingers move  in soft, slow circles over your clit as you do what he requests, desperate to obey him. You’re already so close to that edge, his voice is sending you flying. “That’s it, just like that,” he’s praising you, and the look in his eyes says he’s as close as you are. “Keep doing it, baby. Don’t stop.”

“Are you touching yourself, Jake? Are you hard for me?” you ask, knowing he needs this release as much as you do. 

He groans, his head dropping back as your voice fills his ears. “God, yes. You have no idea how hard I am right now. All I want….No, all I need is to bury myself inside of you. I need to feel you, all of you, every warm inch… I need it more than air. I need you, baby. I need you so badly.” he says, flipping his phone around to show you his beautiful cock as he works it with his hand. Precum has started to gather on the tip and you wonder how he tastes. 

“I want to taste you, Jake. I want to feel you in my throat. I want to swallow down every last inch of you. So fucking bad,” you whine. 

“Jesus…” his words come out as a strangled gasp. “I want that, too. I’ve dreamed of having your mouth wrapped around me, of seeing you on your knees, swallowing my cum. I want it so badly, baby. I’d give you everything.” he says. “Put two fingers in baby, move your thumb to your clit.”

You sink two fingers into yourself, the camera positioned perfectly for him to watch how your body takes the digits. “Oh god, Jake,” you cry, wishing more than anything it was him. 

“Oh fuck, look at you. I’m never going to forget this. I’m never going to be the same after seeing you like this.” He takes a moment to just watch your body, his hand still moving furiously on his length. “I need you to keep going, just like that, but start with a third one. I want to see how much you can take, because that’s how much I’m going to give you. As soon as I get my hands on you, I’m going to wreck you, Poppy.”

“Please Jake, I’m so close,” you whine, adding a third finger. 

His chest is heaving, his hand moving at a rapid pace. His eyes watch your every movement, drinking it all in. “I know, baby,” he responds, his voice ragged. “I can see you getting tight around those fingers. I need to hear you Poppy, I need to see your face as you come for me.”

“Come with me, Jake. Please,” you beg. 

“Together, then, ” he breathes. “I’m fucking close. Come for me, baby. Right now.” He’s on the edge, and watching you is going to take him over. “I’m right there, you have no idea. Just come, baby. Look at me, let me see my girl fall apart for me.”

Your eyes lock on his as you fall apart against your own fingers. Your mind tricks you into thinking it's him, letting loose the most powerful release you’ve felt in years as his name falls from your lips. 

He sees the wave hit you, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Hearing his name in that moment does it, it’s all he needs. He gasps as he watches you and lets go, “Fuuuuck,” he whimpers, shuddering as release begins to wash over him. “Y/N…Poppy...” he grunts, “I’m coming, I’m fucking coming,” he grunts, his body tensing as his cum lands on his bare chest in several hot spurts.  

It’s like a freight train, the way it builds and then comes crashing down. And then it’s over. All that’s left besides the ragged breathing is the blissful silence. And as it clears, you find him there staring at you like it’s the first time he’s seen you. He looks so vulnerable, so open. His body is still, but his chest is rising and falling as the last hints of what you did are still visible on his chest in the dim light. The words hang between you, heavy with the impact of everything you just did.

“Poppy,” he whispers, still catching his breath. 

That word breaks your heart, and you find yourself unable to speak for a minute. The weight of all of this is taking over your chest and you have to swallow to find your voice. “Jake,” is all you can manage to say.

He just stares at you. It’s like a dream. You’ve been here, in this moment a million times, but it’s never been real until tonight. All of this feels so impossible, and you’re still trying to make sense of it. 

“I…” he tries to speak, but his voice is barely a whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”

Your guilt overtakes you, “I'm sorry...That I ran from you again. I didn’t want to. I just–”

He shakes his head, the pain of it all visible in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I get it. We both know why you did. I just wish…” he trails off, the words caught in his throat.

“I wish things were different,” you finish. 

“Yeah,” he sighs heavily, the weight of it all hitting him. “We’ve been wishing that since the day we met,” It hangs in the air for a bittersweet moment before he speaks again. “Maybe in another life.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” you whisper. “But Jake?”

“Yeah, P?” The way he says it, the way he says your name, it feels so intimate.

“We’re still us, right?” you ask, your eyes welling with tears. You hope he doesn’t notice.

He stares at you for a moment, taking everything in. “Yeah, we’re still us.” He responds quietly. There’s a long pause before he speaks again, but his face is filled with so many different emotions. “We’ll always be us.”

A single tear falls down your cheek, “You promise? Forever?”

His heart is breaking, watching that tear fall. He’s desperate to brush it away, but he can’t. He can’t touch you. He can’t hold you. He can’t tell you that it’ll be okay. He just has to watch from afar, wishing for more. “Yes, baby. Forever. I promise.”

You nod your head and swallow down the lump in your throat, finally meeting his eyes again, “Happy New Year, Jake.”

You can tell he is shattered just the same as you are, but he is doing everything he can to keep it together. “Happy New Year, Poppy,” he responds quietly, trying his absolute hardest to steady his voice. “I’m glad you were my midnight kiss.”

“Me too, Jake…” you trail off. 

He forces a soft smile, trying desperately to hold on. “I should let you get some rest,” he says quietly, the words making his chin tremble.

You nod, “Yeah, it’s late…”

“Okay,” he whispers, hating every second of this. “You get some sleep.”

“You too,” you murmur.

“I’ll try,” he says, his voice so weak. “Goodnight, my beautiful Poppy.”

 Your voice comes out cracked and thick with emotion, “Goodnight, Jake.”

You want so badly to say more. But the lump in your throat is too strong. You stare at him through the screen, trying to memorize every tiny detail in this moment, knowing that this is how things are going to be. 

“Bye, love,” he breathes, desperately hoping that you don’t hear the word that slipped out, but you do. The screen goes dark, the call ending as you drop your phone to the bed. 

For a minute, you just lie there, staring into the darkness. It just feels so empty without him. The loneliness is almost oppressive, and you need…something. You’re desperate for his touch, for his smell, for anything. You finally sit up, grabbing his shirt that you had pulled off earlier and putting it back on. You crawl under the covers, pulling the shirt over your head. 

You curl up to his shirt, pulling it up over your nose and closing your eyes. It feels like if you could just will it hard enough, maybe you’d feel him here, in your bed, holding you. But you can’t, and you know you have to live with the memories of how he felt pressed up against you at the bar, instead. He’s just a few miles away, on the other side of town, in his bed, probably thinking the same goddamn thoughts. And here you are, separated from him, but no less in love with him than you ever were. Your arm is draped over your pillow, your eyes fixed on the wall across from the bed. You’re trying desperately not to cry, but the tears start anyway. You pull his shirt over your eyes, trying to just disappear in it, hoping it will give you just a bit of comfort. But it doesn’t. 

You know you have to live with the decision you made, even though it's not what either of you wants. You let yourself cry until you can’t anymore and then you just lie there, in the darkness of your childhood bedroom, holding his shirt like a goddamn lifeline. You’re fighting the sobs that are trying to tear out of your chest. 

It just doesn’t make sense. You’ve always been so sure of yourself, and of your life. But right now, the only thing you can be sure of is that you love this man more than you ever thought possible, and you’re going to have to spend the rest of your life knowing that you will never be able to tell him how you really feel about him. How you’ve always felt about him, because though it may be true, it doesn’t change anything. You can’t be together, and that's what hurts the most. 

November 10, 2026

Detroit, Michigan

You drop your car keys into the ceramic dish by your front door, the metallic clang echoing through the house. Your coat is dripping with rain, the weather not giving you a single ray of sun the entire day, in fact the forecast even calls for snow. As you hang it on the coat rack you’re sure to fish your phone out of your pocket, still receiving a few sporadic birthday texts here and there. 

There’s a text from your parents congratulating you on your milestone birthday, a few messages from friends and of course the obligatory ones from random old classmates you haven’t seen since high school. You’re almost at the bottom of the messages when you’re suddenly hit with a wave of disappointment. You don’t know if you were expecting him to reach out today, but it doesn’t make you feel any less deflated that he hasn’t. Not a call, not a text, no flowers, nothing. Part of you wonders if he’s finally moved on from your friendship, or whatever it was. 

Today was a busy day like any other, maybe even busier than usual. You spent most of the day preparing your client in the office for trial next week. It’s everything you’ve ever worked for. You were finally living the life you always dreamed of, but for some reason, you knew something was missing. It felt incomplete.

You drop onto the couch, the heavy November rain against the windows is the only noise in the house. Now that you are finally home, your exhaustion is starting to hit you, and your thirty minute commute  in the rain and traffic didn’t help. You reach for the remote on the coffee table and flick the T.V. on. Nothing is really jumping out at you as you browse through the channels so you just leave it on the news, not really bothering to pay attention. 

You can’t help but dwell on the fact that you haven’t heard from Jake today. Today of all days is the one you count on each year. Big beautiful poppies always show up at your door when you least expect it, but now at 6:30 with no delivery trucks in sight, you let your heart fall. You lean your head back against your couch, letting your eyes close as you think of all the years you took it for granted. You can’t help but smile when you think about it. How thoughtful he was to send poppies specifically. They always were significant to you, a special moment between you and Jake all those years ago. 

You can remember it clear as day. Jake was the first to get his license having a birthday in April, his beat up old sedan now his pride and joy. He insisted he drive you everywhere, to school, to work, everywhere. He just loved the freedom. It was about a month after he got his license when you got a text from him, telling you he wanted to take you somewhere. This wasn’t strange because again, he insisted on driving you everywhere. But this was different, it was early in the morning, and he told you it was a bit of a drive. He gave you no other details, but told you to be ready for him to pick you up in an hour. It was a warm day, dressing yourself in a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top, fastening your hair into a braid as you waited to hear his car pull into your driveway. 

The engine of the car was loud, the windows rolled down. Music was blasting from the stereo as you opened the passenger door to the car. He was already turned to face you, a wide grin on his face, “You ready?” he asks, looking you up and down, with a nod you reach for the door handle as he speaks again.“Well, get in, we’ve got a drive ahead of us.”

You spent two whole hours on the road, him not giving you a single clue to where you were going the entire time. You’d never been with him in the car for this long, but there wasn’t a single nerve coursing through you. You were completely at ease, you remember that perfectly. He sang along to every song that came on and you couldn’t help but to stare at him, even then you were totally and utterly in love with him. 

When the car started to slow, you saw it. Right there through the passenger side window you saw the biggest field of flowers you’d ever seen. You didn’t even know the place existed. It was stunning, as far as the eye could see, flowers. Thousands of them. Red, yellow, orange, pink, every color you could imagine. Your eyes were filled with wonder, and you looked over at him, his eyes still on the road, but his smile was present. 

“I knew you would love this,” he said as he pulled off the main road. He brought the car to a stop and turned to look at you, studying the awestruck look on your face. “Come on,” he said simply, climbing out of the car and walking around to your side to open the door for you.

As you got out you walked along the overgrown pathway towards the field of flowers, the sun shining down harshly on your shoulders as bees buzzed around overhead. “Where are we?” you asked, letting him lead you. 

“Fennville,” he smirks, flipping his sunglasses down to his nose. 

“How did you know this was here, we are in the middle of nowhere?” you question. 

“Heard some people talking about it at Kroger, thought of you.” he answers, rubbing his hand over his mouth. 

“Do you know what kind of flowers these are? I’ve never seen them before.”

“Yeah, they’re poppies.” he smiles, snatching one up from the ground and tucking it behind your ear. Your heart swelled at the act and it was right then you had a new favorite flower. 

He led you deep into the field, the two of you spending hours exploring and picking the beautiful flowers. He eventually sat down in the middle of the field, lying down to watch the sky, patting the ground next to him for you to join him. You laid next to him, your heads turned to look at one another. You remember exactly how the sun cast his face in the most incredible glow, the flecks of gold in his eyes stood out more than ever, and the freckles that dotted his nose were almost shimmering. Your mind drifts back to how effortlessly you two could just be together. You couldn’t get enough of his attention, and he was never scared to give it to you. You just existed together, comfortably, calmly.

He twirled a beautiful red petaled stem between his fingers as he looked up to the sky, listening to the nature that surrounded the two of you. “You know, these kind of remind me of you.” he says, softly. 

“Really?” you breathe, feeling sleepiness take you over as you lounge in the warm sun. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, staring at the flower between his fingers. “They’re not afraid to stand out, to be bold. They grow wild and free and they are just so full of joy. You can’t help but smile when you see them. The rest of the field is so plain, but they fight to get their share of the sun. Just like you.” He looks over at you when you don’t respond. You’re almost asleep, the heat of the sun and the beautiful afternoon sending you into a blissful trance.

You turn to look over at him, he is staring up at the sky, his profile completely visible. You’d never been around anyone who paid such close attention to the little details about you, the thought alone made your heart skip a beat. 

“So soft and beautiful,” he continues, letting the stem fall from his fingers and reaching over to lightly lay the flower between the two of you, “and you’re just as unique as these are. They don’t grow everywhere, they’re rare.”

You let his words sink into you, and unbeknownst to him you felt exactly the same way about him. You looked to the field, the poppies dancing hypnotically in the breeze around you, and the colors on their petals almost sparkled in the sunlight. You were surrounded by hundreds of thousands of them, and every single one of them was beautiful.

That was the day your nickname was born, Jake refusing to call you anything else after that. You loved it, it was special, and no one else knew why. They didn’t need to. There was no hiding the flush from your cheeks that day, or the flutter in your heart each time he let it slip out. You couldn’t deny its significance, you were completely lost to the boy that was lying next to you in the field of poppies, and you didn’t know it then, but you always would be. 

As beautiful and special as the memory was to you, it also hurt, knowing that today was the first time since that day that he hasn’t sent them to you on your birthday. The memory now feels tainted and forgotten. You pull yourself up from the couch and make your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine to try and ease the pain that has suddenly crept up upon you. 

You feel the cold air from the open fridge as you pull out a bottle of Pinot Grigio, the neck of the bottle clinks against the edge of the glass as you fill it up more than you should. You move to the counter and lean against it, staring blankly out the kitchen window into your backyard. Darkness has settled in, and you're reminded once again that you are entirely alone with these thoughts. No one to pull you out of your head, no one to whisper sweet nothings to you. 

You even tried to make plans with friends tonight, hoping to share a few drinks and laughs to ring in your thirtieth, but each person you asked had plans, or perfectly valid reasons they couldn’t. Families to tend to, and partner work events. If you didn’t feel alone then, you certainly do now. It’s not like the weather was the best either, all around this day was a bust.

You stand in the empty kitchen, surrounded by all the silence and feeling so utterly alone. You lift the glass to your lips and take a heavy swig. You try to shake off the feeling that this might just be the most miserable birthday you've ever had. Unable to stand the silence a moment longer you wander over to your album collection, your fingers searching through the shelf for the one album you know will help soothe the ache inside you. You smile when you see the familiar cover, pulling the vinyl from the sleeve and placing it gently on the turntable. The unmistakable sound of Bad Company begins to play through the speakers as you sit on your couch and drink your wine, wondering where Jake is tonight and if he feels this too.

You stare out the window, watching the rain and now snow fall together, your head starting to feel fuzzy. You drink your wine as you listen to “Weep No More”, wishing that it would numb you in ways that would make the ache disappear, but it doesn’t. It just reminds you of how lonely you are, how lonely you have been for so long. As the guitar solo sounds through the speakers, you lean your head back against the couch and close your eyes.

Next thing you know you find yourself waking on your couch, the record begging to be flipped and your wine glass empty on your coffee table. The rain is still pouring and the clock now reads 8:43. You decide to call it a night, placing your glass in the sink and closing the turntable until next time. You drag yourself upstairs, changing into a pair of pajamas and pulling your hair into a knot at the top of your head. You crawl into your bed, ready for this day to be over and as you turn off the light, the last thought on your mind is Jake. Just like always. 

It's hard to fall asleep, your brain just won't shut off. Your mind is still working overtime, memories playing in double time. It's a vicious cycle, and a cycle that you get stuck in every year on your birthday. Each year, one year older but no less sad. You close your eyes tightly, doing the only thing you can do right now which is force yourself to fall asleep. Or try to, at least.

As you start to drift off thunder clatters in the distance and though it’s soothing, it wakes you, causing you to toss and turn. Just as your eyes begin to close, you hear it again, but it sounds strange. A few seconds later you hear it again, and your brain fully wakes as you sit up in your bed. You listen again for the sound, and as you hear it you realize it's not thunder at all, but the sound of someone knocking on your front door. 

A bolt of panic runs through you. Who the hell would be at your door at this time of night? You look at your phone, it's almost ten-thirty. No one you know would be stopping by unannounced, and at this hour? You get up, quietly walking from your room, down the stairs and toward the front door. As you get closer, the rain and the knocking both get louder, causing you to grow even more confused as nerves start to gather in your stomach.

You take a deep breath as you gather your courage, twisting the lock and opening the door. The second the door opens, a gust of cool, wet air blows through the house. The rain, now seemingly heavier than before pours onto your front porch step, the sound almost drowning out the sound of your thumping heart. You peer through the dark, rain drenched night and you swear your heart stops at the sight. Your mind can hardly comprehend what you’re seeing. 

In the dark, with rain pouring down around him, you see Jake. In jeans, a t-shirt and a very drenched leather jacket, holding the largest bouquet of multi-colored poppies you’ve ever seen, petals heavy with rain. 

“Poppy?” he says. He's breathing hard and he looks incredibly panicked. You again notice the bouquet in his trembling hand and your brain starts to piece the situation together.

“Jake? What’re you–”

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I was supposed to be here hours ago, but there was a wreck once I hit 75, and then the traffic–” he says, water dripping from the end of his nose as he talks. 

A wave of shock washes over you at the fact he's really here. Right here at your doorstep no less. “Oh my god– Come inside!” you urge, seeing his cold, wet body start to shake. 

He nods his head and starts to shake the water off of himself like a dog as he steps into your house. His hair is sopping wet, and the way his shirt clings to his chest…well, you’re trying to push down that thought. He looks like he’s barely holding it together. As soon as you shut the door behind him he holds out the bouquet, wanting you to grab it.  “Happy Birthday, Pops, sorry they’re late.”

Your heart shatters. Of course he didn't forget. “Jake...Thank you...But– You're here, in Detroit, what are you–”

“It’s your birthday, Pops,” His voice is shaky and his body is shivering slightly. He's soaking wet and he's going to get sick if he stands here in those wet clothes any longer. So, you reach out and take his hand, tugging him with you as you walk toward your living room. He follows you in and stands awkwardly next to the couch as you turn to face him. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and you notice the look in his eyes is off, like your presence has him hypnotized. You notice his eyes move up and down your body, taking in your pajamas.

You quickly look down at yourself, feeling slightly self conscious and he instantly notices. He shakes his head as if reading your mind. “No, don’t. You look perfect to me.”

You feel bashful, and unsure of what to say, so instead you rush to the bathroom to grab a towel for him to start drying himself off.

“Thank you.” he mumbles and takes the towel from you, trying to dry his face and hair. You watch as he rubs the towel over his head, his shirt comes off his body and you're almost knocked backward. There were a few times throughout the years you'd see him shirtless but, my god, did he look good now. You're trying to take little glances, hoping he's too busy drying off to notice.

“Jake, don’t think that I don’t want you here, but…Normally you just…send the flowers. I can’t believe you drove eight hours to deliver them, in this weather no less…” you question, crossing your arms across your braless chest. 

He stops drying his hair and stares at you. You can see the look in his eyes. It’s  intense, and it’s not just because he’s freezing. He’s trying to read you, he’s searching for something. He stands there, in his wet jeans, with only a towel thrown over his shoulders. He is looking at you intensely, and your heart starts to pound in your chest.

He bites his lip, and his eyes dart down your body for a split second. He swallows and continues to dry his hair, the air around you suddenly feeling much heavier. He looks you in your eyes. “The flowers didn’t feel like enough this year.”

“Jake, they are always enough. They are more than enough,” you whine. 

He drops the towel to his side, the damp strands of hair clinging to his face. You see his chest rising and falling, trying to steady his breathing, but he seems to be failing. He walks towards you and you back up until you are pressed against the wall. He gets in so close you can feel his body heat, and he gently reaches up to take your chin into his hand. His fingers are still cold, and the feeling of them on your skin almost burns. His voice is rough as he looks at you deeply, he’s searching every inch of your face. “No. I couldn’t let you be alone, to sit there all night long with a glass of wine in your hand, just staring at the flowers. Not this year, Pops. This year is different.”

“Different?” you breathe.  

“It's your thirtieth birthday, Poppy.” he smirks.

“Yeah?” you answer, still not on the same train of thought he seems to be on. 

He takes a deep breath, and you can see the nervous look come over his face again. His eyes flick down to the floor, his cheeks start to get red. He can’t look at you. This entire thing is so incredibly intense, and you can feel the anticipation in the air. He takes a deep breath and then lets his eyes meet yours. 

“You know, I have traveled all over the world. I have seen people and places so beautiful your mind can hardly comprehend it. I’ve seen waterfalls and caverns, and cliffs and fields so big and vast you feel small compared to them. What I’m saying is that, I’ve been to so many places and seen so many beautiful things, but none of them, nothing, compares to you.” 

You blink at him, awestruck by his words. “Jake…”

He doesn’t give you a second to speak. He’s nervous and he’s scared, and all of this is coming out unfiltered. “I mean it, I’ve been to so many gorgeous places, I’ve met so many people and nothing has captivated me the way you do. I have searched the whole damn world, and everywhere I looked, I was looking for you. Always looking for you, thinking about you.”

You don’t even know what to say. Just two hours ago you were laying in your bed missing him, and now hes here, in front of you spilling his soul. 

“I could go to the edge of the ocean and see the beauty of the sunrise, but it’s nothing compared to the way your eyes light up when you laugh. No matter where I go, or how many new things I see, I can tell you that there isn’t another you. You’re rare. You’re my one in a million, wild and free Poppy. I’d give up every single thing I have to wake up next to you in that poppy field again, just to be next to my girl. Just me and you.”

Your lips part to speak but he’s not done.

“It's been twelve years since that night in my basement. Twelve years that I have thought of you day in and day out. I know that at the time you probably didn't mean it. Who really means anything they say when they're eighteen?” he laughs. “The thing is, I did. I did mean it Pops. You're all I’ve ever wanted, so much so that I signed the back of a gas station receipt to prove it.” he says, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He reaches inside and pulls out a well worn, tattered and wrinkled receipt, barely hanging on to life. Signed on the back with both of your names. Your heart lurches in your chest as your fingers grab the delicate paper from him. 

He rubs his hand over his mouth, trying to find the courage to keep going. “And I still mean it today, Poppy. Twelve years later, and I still feel it, I still feel everything…for you.” His eyes don’t break from yours, and you can feel all the walls he’s put up starting to come crumbling down. You can see that he’s terrified, but he’s fighting to keep those emotions tucked away. “I’m ready to make good on that pact, Y/N. I never forgot. Not for a second.”

You look at the receipt in your hands, seeing the words scribbled down so carelessly, promising yourselves to each other at age thirty. Your names are still there, though the pen is faded. You hadn’t thought about that night since it happened, and seeing this has flooded your mind with the memory. The night you kissed him for the first time. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“Of course I do,” he says, his voice shaking. “It’s the only thing that has kept me going. How do you think I got through all these years?” His eyes are still locked on yours, he is trying so goddamn hard to keep everything inside him. He’s fighting the tears that are attempting to come, “Every time I thought time was up, every time it looked like we wouldn’t make it, that this thing we have was hopeless…I’ve had that piece of paper. It was something to hold on to...” his voice drifts off, his eyes are watering now. “A piece of you when I couldn’t have the real thing.”

You see his eyes fill with tears, and you can’t take it anymore. You reach out to him, your hand touches his stubbly cheek. You wipe his tears away with your thumb. You’re not even sure what to say right now or what to do, just that you need to touch him. He reaches up and grabs your hand, holding it against his face, desperate for your touch. 

The walls are coming down, he can no longer hold back. “God…you have no idea, no idea at all the hold you’ve had on me, Poppy. You don’t understand how much I’ve loved you for so long. You know how much I still do. Even if I never said it, even if I didn’t fight for it…I still kept loving you, more and more with every single day. You were always there, in my heart, in my mind. For twelve years, shit, longer than that, you’ve been my everything.”

Love. He loves you. He’s always loved you. 

“Jake, I lo–”

He pulls your hand from his cheek, resting your fingers on his mouth as he slides them across his lips, taking in the feeling of you. Then, his eyes meet yours again. “And listen, I don’t even know if you have a boyfriend, or– or if you’re seeing anyone…I never let myself look, but I’m here, I have time, and I want this Poppy. I want you. I want to do this. It’s finally time for us.”

This feels like you’re in a dream. You’re watching some fantasy of yours unfold right in front of you. You would be convinced that this isn’t really happening, if it weren’t for your hand still against his lips. Your heart aches, and you feel like maybe it’s too good to be true. The man you’ve been in love with since you were young, the man who keeps you awake at night, is telling you what you’ve dreamed of. 

“Jake, you– you want to be… with me? Like…that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, his voice cracking, “I’ve wanted it forever. I wish I could go back and change things all those years ago….I wish we could have just been together the whole time. But right now…I just need you to hear me when I say that I want you, I’ve always wanted you. I’ve only held on and I’ve only pushed through for you. Everything I’m doing is for you. For us. You’re my girl, Pops. I’m ready to make it official.”

You feel your own eyes starting to well with tears, the words coming from his lips are everything you’ve ever wanted. The part of your life that has felt so incomplete has suddenly vanished from the second you opened your front door. It’s him, it’s always been him, and now he’s here, asking you to be with him in the way you planned all those years ago. 

“I won’t promise you that it’ll be easy. This isn’t going to be pretty. We’re not kids anymore. We’re not those two dumb teenagers who made a promise on a piece of paper not knowing what life had in store for them. We’re in the real world now, and it’s messy. It's hard. We both have demanding jobs and work long, tiring hours, but I know we can do this. I want to do this. With you. No one else.” he whispers as he rubs your cheek with the back of his fingers, his knuckles dragging along your skin like he’s trying to absorb the feeling of you.

“But– Married? That seems like a big leap,” you breathe. 

His mind drifts for a moment as he tries to put together the words. “Is it a big leap? I don't think it is. If you think about how long I've loved you, the idea of us being together, it's not too soon. I've waited twelve years to be here with you. I've taken every single step just to get to this moment, and now I know, even through all the bullshit, there's no one else for me. I want to be married to you.”

“It just– it seems scary,” you whisper, feeling his hand wrap around your waist. 

He steps even closer, his hand wrapping around you and pulling you against him. His damp chest pressed to your thin tank top. You can hear the sound of his breathing, and feel his hands as they roam gently over your body. “It is scary, it’s terrifying. Being without you is scary, and the idea of me losing you completely scares me the most. But, what if we just try? What if we stop running and just try?”

Your eyes meet his as his thumb rubs small circles on your lower back. 

He leans forward ever so slightly, closing the distance even more between your bodies, like he’s pulled into your gravity. A faint noise escapes his lips as he breathes against your mouth. “Sometimes you just have to jump and trust that the net will appear.”

It’s as if your breath has been stolen from your lungs, “I–”

He’s so close, all you can see is the gold flecks in his eyes. His lips skim across your cheek, your skin is on fire. You can feel the air from his nose brush against your face, his hand around your waist is holding you so close. His touch is lighting you up inside like fire, you’re completely hypnotized by him. 

“I want to do this, Y/N. I have a long time off, and I want to spend it with you, making this work. I love you Poppy. I’ve loved you forever. We can do this. Say yes. Say yes to this, Poppy.”

“You’re sure about this?” you breathe, letting your lips brush his. 

“Every nerve in my body is telling me this is right. I know in my soul that this is it. It’s you, it’s only ever been you….” he whispers, his hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pulling your body into him as his mouth ghosts over yours. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me like I want you, P.”

“I want you, Jake. I always have.” you confess, cupping his cheek with your hand. His face falls into your touch as he groans with relief. 

“Do you love me?” he asks, his tone vulnerable and pleading. 

“Yes. I do. You know I do. I’ve loved you since the day I met you,” you answer, brushing your thumb under his eye.

He breathes against your palm, your name murmured out in a soft whimper. “Say yes, Poppy. Be mine. Marry me.”

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing. You know this isn’t some fairytale that you’re going to wake from. The only man you’ve ever loved, the one man you’ve dreamed of for years is standing in front of you asking you to marry him.

“Yes.” The word falls from your mouth so easily, it's as if you haven’t even thought it through. This could be the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done. 

Your heart is pounding, the word feeling so final on your tongue. 

And as you look at him, you have no idea what the future will hold, but what you do know is that he’ll be in it, and that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

But… this was Jake. You needed to be fully honest with him. 

Your present, real life wasn’t going away. There was a crafted reality that didn’t involve him, in ways you didn’t care to address at this moment. 

Though, you couldn’t lie to him. You had to tell him. There was one issue. It wasn’t so drastic that it could get in the way of this for you two, per se. It just seemed wrong to go through with what you felt was about to happen, without informing him of your current situation. 

But, logic was escaping you quickly. 

As soon as he was leaning in to kiss you, his lips so full and soft, you lost the ability to rationally think. Any thought besides Jake Kiszka himself was far and fleeting from your mind. 

Tonight was meant for you two.

Right now, this could be it. All you had to worry about was right now. At this moment, you could venture into a universe where things seamlessly fall into place. Just like you always wanted.

A little secret kept from him in this moment was the least important thing to you as you felt his lips finally brush against yours, his mustache tickling your upper lip. 

The harsh beating of your heart calmed as soon as you felt his lips touch yours. 

Tonight was tonight. 

Tomorrow’s reality could set in just as soon as you felt him like this, the way you've always dreamed of— even if only this once. 

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[lokisprettygirl]

Step Out Of Line (Bill Skarsgard! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Alternate Universe) (18+)

Read chapter 7 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 8

Summary : After Getting out of Dolly's clutches Eric is encouraged and supported by you to follow his dreams.

Warning: 18+, smut, non consensual sex, mention of drug addiction, grooming, mommy kink, age gap relationship, emotional cheating, marital abuse, sexual abuse, consumption of weed

“Is this your poor attempt at a joke?” she asked him, eyes brimming with tears and fire blazing behind them as she held the divorce papers in her hands.

“No, it’s not,” Eric replied with a serene smile, pretending to be unfazed even though his nerves were on fire “But that’s what my life has felt like with you since the day we met..a cruel joke”

You could hear her friends gasp at his boldness, they had never heard him speak this way, especially not to Dolly, he was always timid and cowered in her presence, he never wanted to offend her because he knew he'd have to pay for it. Your mother looked like she was about to lose her mind but she was unable to lash out in front of her peers. However you knew her act won't last for very long.

“I swear to God, Eric, if you don’t cut it out right now, you’ll regret it,” she warned him through gritted teeth.

“I already do,” he said bitterly. “I regret every decision I’ve made since the day I met you—”

He began to speak but was cut off by the sharp slap she landed across his face. That’s when you stepped in between them to shield him from any further blow.

“Okay, okay, Mother,” you said with a forced chuckle even though your blood was boiling at the way she had hurt him again. “Let’s not make a scene in front of your friends”

She let out a deep guttural noise of frustration as she finally caught up with your scheming ways, she had her doubts but she didn't think you were capable of double crossing her this way.

“You ungrateful, evil spawn. This is all your doing, isn’t it?” she hissed at you like the venomous snake that she was.

“Mine?” you responded with a smirk. “Oh, no. I can't take credit for everything. You’ve done a pretty spectacular job being the despicable human being that you are. I didn't have to do anything really..except goad you into revealing your cruel intentions”

“You're the curse of my life, you had been since you were born” she said to you with a smile, perhaps she wanted to hurt you but you had grown a thick skin around her a long time ago..

“Curse? Nah” You snickered before you stepped closer to her “But I’m your karma. And you know what they say about karma, right?” You paused, letting the tension thicken between you two. “She’s a fucking bitch.”

She raised her arm to hit you but you caught it and twisted it around.

“It's time for you to leave mother, this is my house and you're not going to stay here anymore” you warned her to spare her some dignity “And Eric? Well he'll see you in court with a lawyer” you dragged her out of the living room to the main door before you shoved her out of there.

As she turned around to look at you, a part of you felt guilty, she was your mother after all but then you remembered what she had done to your father and to Eric.

“Really y/n? I'm your mother for god's sake” she said, her one last attempt at manipulation but it wasn't going to work on you.

“And he was your husband" you screamed in frustration “he was the father of your only child but did you care about it? Did you think of him before you cheated on him and then drove him to near madness?” You asked her, eyes welling up with tears as you thought of your loving, kind father.

“Your dad wasn't perfect,” she retorted.

“Maybe he wasn't..but he loved you mother..the same way Eric loved you” Her eyes flickered as you said that “He cried for you, he didn't sleep, didn't eat when you were sick and what have you ever done for him except putting him in harm's way? You never loved him..not even for a single moment..how could you not?” your voice broke but you continued “How could you not love him?”

She let out a scoff as you finished.

“So that's what it is about huh? You're in love with him..do you really think he'd be yours now?”

You chuckled at her response. There was no redemption in sight for her.

“Maybe I am ..but that's not why I did what I did. I'd never ask him to be with me, that's not what this is about but you'd never understand it” you said as you finally shut the door on her face. Not wanting to hear more rubbish that would come out of her mouth.

When you returned to the living room the atmosphere was awkward to say the least so you composed yourself and turned to her friends.

“You guys can stay, there's food and drinks” you said to them “Though i think your friend out there might need you now that she's practically homeless”

All of them looked at you with disbelief before they rolled their eyes and proceeded to walk out one by one. You didn't care one bit about their opinion of you or Eric for that matter.

You took a deep breath as they all left, leaving you with him alone.

“Was it the right thing to do? Throwing her out like that?” He asked you hesitantly.

“She deserves it Eric” you answered as you walked towards him “You have a big heart, you're kind, but not everyone is good like you..you just have to remember the pain she has put you through all these years” you said to him as you placed your hands on his shoulders before you brought your fingers up to run it over his cheek. Never again. He'd never be bruised or hurt again. You'd make sure of it.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he hugged you, it felt like a dream, she was gone from his life and it felt like a sweet dream to him. Just her mere absence made him feel like a man out of prison.

“Happy birthday” you murmured softly as you pulled away so he smiled.

“It is happy for once”

A moment later the doorbell rang. Taylor was on the other side of the door with a present and a bouquet, you had invited him to celebrate with you two, he had been such a huge pillar of support to Eric in the past few weeks.

His job was done now but you needed him to know how much you had appreciated his help in that difficult time..

Later that night you made Eric sit down in front of the coffee table with a birthday cake, the candle light casting the perfect glow on his pretty face. You proceeded to click hundreds of pictures as he blew them out and then cut the cake.

This day was important to him, the beginning of a new life, a new chapter where he was free to follow his dreams and live however he wanted.

With divorce proceedings and all, Eric was still in a sore spot, and you wanted to be there for him as a friend, you didn't want him to jump into another relationship right after this horrible one. Besides you didn't even know if he even desired you like that, you had been his stepdaughter for seven years and he never stepped out of that line, he always treated you with utmost respect.

Now he was free and he really needed to go out in the world and see it from his own eyes instead of Dolly's.

Money wasn't an issue for any of you, your fathers left behind fortunes on your names, you probably didn't need to work ever again but you didn't want to sit idle either and you didn't want him to waste his life away when you knew he could do so much more.

“Eric?” You mumbled as you both sat down on the couch so he hummed, enjoying how time had gone still, no threat of your mother looming over his head anymore.

“Do you want to do modelling?” You asked him, you didn't want to make his decisions for him just because you thought he had potential, you saw the vision but you wanted him to want this for himself.

“Will I be good?” He asked softly so you smiled.

“You'll be amazing i promise”

Once the court proceedings slowed down, you booked a photographer so he could take some pictures of Eric for his portfolio, the ones you could send to different modelling agencies..

On the day of the shoot he was extremely nervous, fidgeting with his fingers and then the collar of his shirt repeatedly.

“Hey stop” you said as you approached him and fixed the collar, his makeup and hair was done and he looked like a dream, sometimes you couldn't even believe you got to be around him all the time.

“Y/n is this a good idea? I don't think I'm made for this” he mumbled softly so you placed your hands on his shoulder.

“Look at me” you said firmly so he looked you in the eye, his green eyes contrasted fabulously with the red silk shirt he had on.

“If you don't want to do this, we will go home okay? But you wanted this right? This is just nervousness, this is how you're supposed to feel when you're starting something new in life”

“What if I am bad at this?” he asked hesitantly.

“Then we will find something else that you love.. it's not the end of the world” your encouragement made him want to go through with it. What's the worst that could happen, he thought?

“What would I even do without you?”

“Well luckily you don't have to find out anytime soon”

As the photoshoot began you sat across the room, watching the photographer adjust the lighting setup before he made Eric sit down on a stool. The photographer then directed him at every step since you had informed him that it was his first time.

“Fantastic..now look to the side” he said as he clicked another picture. Eric seemed nervous at first but after a few test shots, something shifted in him. His movements became more fluid, his expressions more confident. It was like watching him step into a version of himself that had always been there but pushed down time and again by horrible women around him.

This is exactly why your mother never wanted him to spread his wings and fly, because she knew she'd lose sight of him, she wanted to keep him caged so she could make him dance to her tunes but he wasn't born to be caged, he was meant to fly so high and you were going to watch him do it.

Later that night at home you grabbed your laptop and knocked on his door, he had made the spare bedroom upstairs his own now, he didn't want to go back to that bedroom he shared with your mother.

“Hey..are you busy?” You asked him as he opened the door so he chuckled.

“Never too busy for you.. ever” he mumbled as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the room, he noticed the laptop resting in your other one.

“Pictures are here, I'm going to send them to some of the top modelling agencies..I just need you to pick which ones you like the best” you said as you sat down on the couch and placed the laptop on your lap before you opened it.

“I don't have to see it,” he said as he sat next to you and looked at you intently.

“You should”

You knew he trusted you but you needed him to make his own decisions, you needed him to regain control in his life that had been snatched away from him.

His face flushed as you began to swipe through the pictures.

“That's me?” He asked in disbelief as if he was looking at a stranger.

“Told you, you're a supermodel Eric Draven” you let out a giggle, he indeed looked like an angel. His big eyes popped out so well, his perfectly pointy nose adding to the beauty, the smouldering look on his face and few of those tattoos gave him a unique character. Though you did despise the sight of your mother's name engraved on his skin.

“You have no fucking idea how hot you are do you?” You mumbled nonchalantly as you selected the pictures he liked the most before adding them to a folder so you could mail it. He felt bashful at the compliment, especially because it came from you.

*****

Five days passed but you didn't hear anything from any of those agencies and that bothered you alot. Eric was somehow more rational about it as compared to you, he didn't care if this would lead nowhere, that photoshoot was a big deal for him, he stepped out of his comfort zone and did something he never imagined in his wildest dreams. That was enough for now.

“How could they not respond though? They must be blind?” you said to him as you checked your mails for the thousandth time.

Eric chuckled as he placed the bowl of cereal on the countertop and grabbed a spoonful.

“What are they waiting for huh? A solar eclipse or something? No offense to these men but they got nothing on you” you said as you flipped through the pages of one of the magazines to whom you had sent his pictures. He grabbed a spoonful of cereal and shoved it in your mouth.

“Relax my warrior, I'm not going to die if I'm not the next face of Calvin Klein” he joked, as you glared at him he shoved another spoonful in your mouth and that's when your phone beeped so you immediately grabbed it.

“A mail..it's a mail..oh god it's a mail”

You said as you turned to him in excitement.

“Open it”

He said as he crossed his arms, a soft smile lighting up on his features. Your excitement excited him.

“Dante Deluca.. oh god oh god oh god” you mumbled as you read the official mail.

‘What's Dante Deluca?” he asked, looking perplexed as ever.

“They are huge in Paris Eric..they're like Louis Vuitton and Prada combined in one, they don't even hire new models that often”

You mumbled nervously as you opened the mail.

The more you read the more your eyes popped out of your socket.

“What is it?” He asked you so you jumped up and down before you hugged him.

“I think we are going to Paris”

You said to him excitedly as you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

“They gave a number, I'll go put on my best professional voice,” you said to him before you walked into the living room and sat down to give them a call.

They had been looking for fresh new faces and luckily you had sent them his photos just in time. They were interested in doing a digital campaign and an editorial spread with him for their new men's line. He'd be one of the many such models but it would be a start. A fresh new start. That's what he needed.

“See I told you, you're fucking fantastic.. you're so ridiculously photogenic even Dante Deluca couldn't resist it” you said to him as you hung up the call but his eyes were teary so you immediately cut down on the enthusiasm.

“Hey ..i'm sorry..am i acting like a jerk?” You asked him so he chuckled before he hugged you. You were so pure, so precious, finding happiness in his achievements.

“Are you kidding me darling?”

“You want this right? I don't want you to do it if you don't want it”

“I want it..i just..it feels unreal is all”

“It's not unreal, every bit of it is real and you deserve it” you pulled him in for a hug again so he smiled.

“When do we leave?”

“Next month..but that's good, we can sort out the visa formalities and we won't miss any of the court dates either”

Eric didn't have to sit idle though, Two days later, you received a call from a local fashion brand eager to have him model for their spring collection. It was his first official job, and when the two of you arrived on set, the scale of the production made his nerves resurface. This wasn’t like the controlled environment of the studio where his portfolio had been shot, this was a full-fledged set with a bustling crew, flashing lights, and high-end equipment.

But the moment you linked your fingers around his own and wished him good luck, he felt better.

And then there was her.

The moment the photographer, Danny, introduced Eric to his co-model, you felt an unexpected jolt of something bitter in your chest. Shelly, an impossibly beautiful woman who looked like Monica Bellucci in her prime.

She greeted him with a polite hug, her effortless charm making it clear that she was used to this world, this was her domain.

You stayed behind the monitor as the shoot began, Eric was a natural, even if he didn’t realize it. He knew where to look, how to angle his face, how to hold himself in a way that screamed confidence despite his nerves. You were about to admire his instinct for the craft when-

Oh. Okay. So she was going to sit on his lap. Alright. You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to remain composed. This was part of the job. You had to get used to it. He wasn’t your boyfriend, after all. He wasn’t even your stepfather anymore. He was just your… friend.

You could tell how nervous he was in the proximity of such a beautiful woman.

“Eric wrap your arm around her waist” Danny guided him so he nodded.

“Sorry I'm new at this” he said nervously as he looked at Shelly.

“It's okay.. you're doing much better than I did at my first big shoot” she said to him, her voice was kind and he appreciated that.

He was still nervous though, his eyes looked for you and the moment he spotted you, you gave him a thumbs-up, offering a small smile. That was all it took, his shoulders relaxed immediately, and he got back into the action.

After the shoot wrapped Danny invited everyone at a club to celebrate. It was a perfect opportunity for Eric to build connections. But the moment you stepped into the venue, Monica Bellucci.. uhh Shelly made a beeline for you both.

“Hey y/n right? Are you managing him?” She greeted you.

“I guess I am, yes” you answered, feeling kind of proud of yourself for managing a future supermodel like him.

“Nice to meet you” she said as she hugged you warmly. So she was a hugger.

You didn't want to feel so wary of her, she seemed nice but then she practically dragged Eric to the dance floor. Okay just because you had to get used to it that didn't mean you had to watch it happen right in front of your eyes so you looked around before you quietly made way for the exit door to get some fresh air.

As Shelly began to grind against him when the music slowed down Eric gently and politely pulled her away from him. His eyes scanned the room to find you and he saw you heading out the door so he quickly followed after you.

“Heyy” he called out to you as he caught up to you so you turned around.

“Hey ..i just needed fresh air..fresh air feels so good after being in a club..does it not?” you crossed your arms.

“You left me alone in there with strangers” he mumbled like a child.

“You're an adult”

Both of you stared at each other as you said that, silence thickening more and more and before it would dip into the awkward zone you spoke again.

“Soooo Shelly..she seems..nice huh?” You paused before continuing “Seems interested in you” You eyed him suspiciously so he scratched his chin before he hummed.

“She's not my type” you couldn't help but chuckle at his response, he sounded sincere but they looked so goddamn perfect together with their statuesque physiques so him saying that sounded a little bit unbelievable.

“Not your type like what? Too tall? Too gorgeous? Too beautiful?” you chuckled again, trying your best to not give away your jealousy.

“Too not you”

He responded quickly as if the answer was on the tip of his tongue, his words felt as if an asteroid has crashed into your body, causing all the dinosaurs to go extinct in your belly.

Before you could respond Danny called you both in to make a toast for the successful wrap so Eric reached forward and grabbed your arm before he took you inside.

Rest of the night he kept his arm around your waist and stood close to you as if you would leave him all alone again. Shelly seemed to have taken the hint that he wasn't interested in her in that manner so she didn't approach him either.

Later that night you found yourself knocking on his door, as he opened it, he was shirtless for.. whatever reasons. Your train of thought nearly derailed by his lean frame being illuminated by the dim light of his room. He had been slowly getting back to working out again.

“Umm what did you uhh what did you mean when you said Too not you?” You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus on what you wanted to ask.

“What did you mean when you said I love you?”

Oh. So he was going to finally bring it up after months?

“It meant what it usually means” you inhaled sharply.

“It meant what it usually means” he echoed your words, his gaze fixed on yours.

“Okay..glad we are umm clear on that front” you said after a moment of silence.

As you turned to leave he grabbed your arm and pulled you back into him, your back hitting his chest.

“Thank you” he whispered in your ear softly, a shiver ran down your spine as he tucked your hair to the side and placed a small kiss on your shoulder,

“For what?” You mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“For everything you have done for me” he spoke softly as he kissed your neck “And and for everything you're going to do for me because I know you won't stop pushing me into chasing this life until I have the whole world in my fist” your pulse quickened as he said that.

“You're giving me too much credit”

“You are being too modest”

You tilted your head slightly, just enough to meet his eyes.

It was too soon, you had to remember that. Seven years of an abusive relationship wasn't something one could get over in a few weeks, you had to give him time to heal and move on, he didn't show it but he was still hurting inside. You didn't want to mess it up with him. Not with him.

“Good night Eric” you whispered softly so he let go of your arm.

“Good night sweet angel”

He was fine with whatever you were willing to give to him at the moment, it was more than enough for now. He didn't want to rush it and then mess it up with you.

He was going to do whatever you wanted, if you wanted to fuck him tonight he would have been on his knees for you without hesitation. But if you wanted to pretend there wasn't something between you two, something deeper than just friendship, something more beautiful than love, then he was okay with that too.

He was yours for life whether you felt the same or not.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Note : It's not the end

Taglist @mariaenchanted @malenoradgn @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @muchwita @urmomsgirlfriend1

[citygirlyuno305]

Why Mikoto would be found guilty irl and how the law/laypeople on juries justify imprisoning a host for the crime of an alter (as a lawyer) (cliffsnotes version bc I could go on for a long time about any of the prisoners)

Before I start, please dont take what I say as me agreeing with certain things or expressing a personal view on the crime itself. I’m strictly talking about how his case would be objectively viewed under the law, and i’m only doing it because I see everyone else’s opinions and i find the contrast interesting.

TW because I talk about murder (obviously) and bring in some examples to highlight principles with other crimes that might be offputting- im not accusing him of those or comparing the actual offenses, Im just highlighting different things with them. (robbery, felony murder, sex crime)

The basics/general applicable law

All crimes require 1) actus reus (physical criminal act) and 2) mens rea (guilty mind). One must commit the actual act proscribed by law, and must do so with the requisite intent, for them to be found guilty of an offense. Murder is broadly defined as the intentional killing of another.

Actus reus is pretty simple. Intentionally killing someone else. Intent to do the act that winds up killing someone else or intent to cause great bodily harm is sufficient. “I only meant to beat him up, not kill him” — the intent to beat him up is enough for murder.

The mens rea usually makes all the difference in charging and conviction. Thats why you could see someone who totally murdered someone else actually get manslaughter because you couldn’t prove willfulness or purposeful action, only recklessness or negligence, etc.

Defenses tend to target the mens rea. Self defense is acting under the reasonable belief youre in danger of death or GBI. imperfect self defense is when that belief is unreasonable (and will still get you with a manslaughter charge because its an incomplete defense).

Insanity is another technical defense but it is unimaginably difficult to succeed on it. Theres four tests for legal insanity under US law:

1- M’Naughten test- a defendant is deemed to be legally insane if he or she was unaware of what he or she was doing when the offense was committed or, even if the defendant knew what he or she was doing, that defendant was incapable of understanding that what they were doing was wrong. It also tends to require a sincerely held belief or delusion that the conduct was morally justified.

2- “Irresistible impulse” test- allows for a defendant to be found not guilty by reason of insanity if his or her mental illness meant that, although recognizing the wrongness of the offense, he or she was compelled to commit the offense anyway. The focus is on volition.

3- Durham rule (Only used in NH)- juries follow the diagnoses made by trained professionals in determining whether the accused is guilty. This test fell out of favor because it diminishes the jury’s role as finder of fact and places decision making in the hands of psychologists, who may- and often do- disagree among each other about the diagnoses at issue.

4- Model Penal Code (MPC) test- A little broader than M’Naughten. Psychiatrist diagnoses mental illness; The defendant must prove they lacked the substantial capacity to (1) understand the criminality of the conduct or (2) conform their conduct to the law. This test prohibits psychopaths and sociopaths from using the insanity defense.

The most commonly used tests are M’Naughten and MPC.

Mikoto satisfies actus reus for murder

When someone with DID commits a crime, it is their corporal form that commits that crime, ergo, under the law, that corporal form committed the actus reus, regardless of who was fronting at the time. While unfortunate, the offending alter is an inextricable part of that person’s physical and mental state of being, and as a matter of public policy, the law treats them as one as it relates to physical conduct.

Mikoto cannot satisfy the standard of self defense

To act in legal self defense, the defendant must actually and reasonably believe in the need to defend against an imminent threat of death or GBI. If the belief subjectively exists but is objectively unreasonable, there is “imperfect self-defense,” i.e., “the defendant is deemed to have acted without malice and cannot be convicted of murder,” but can be convicted of manslaughter. Self-defense “is limited to the use of such force as is reasonable under the circumstances.” Only force that is necessary to repel an attack may be used in self-defense, and force exceeding that necessity is not justified.

So view that as 1) reasonable belief 2) of imminent danger and GBI and 3) use of no greater force than reasonably necessary to defend against it.

Theres 0 evidence of it, but let’s assume the guy he smacked with the bat in MeMe hit Mikoto first. In that scene the victim appears entirely unarmed and has no gun, he’s flat on the ground, he’s not moving towards Mikoto. Mikoto walking towards him and beating him down with a bat is not self defense at that point even if he hit him first. It actually wouldnt be self defense even if the guy had a gun in his pocket and Mikoto knew that, because if the gun isnt out and in the dude’s hand, theres not IMMINENT threat under the law.

He fails on self defense.

Mikoto would not succeed on the insanity defense

Take the two most common tests for insanity, M’Naughten and MPC.

Mikoto fails M’Naughten because he did not act under a delusion. The alter is not itself a delusion. And absent any evidence to the contrary, Mikoto and John both appeared aware that the conduct was morally and legally wrong.

Mikoto fails the MPC because, again, it seems both he and John would know the criminality of murder and failed to conform their conduct to the law for a reason other than a delusion or lack of understanding.

I’ll add that in 100% of cases i’ve seen a successful lodging of the insanity defense, the defendant suffered a disorder that caused delusions and hallucinations. It’s still not even a guarantee but schizophrenia or hallucinatory disorders- most commonly where the defendant demonstrates violent hyperreligiosity outside of judeochristian norms- make it much easier to argue that you truly acted under a moral belief that you were behaving properly. For instance, a paranoid schizophrenic man who suffers delusions of demons surrounding his mother and hallucinates that she, too, is a demon, sent to kill him and everyone else, who he then kills because he believed he was saving the world, assuming he gets that diagnosis and has experts testify as to his mental state, is fairly likely to lodge a successful insanity defense… maybe.

DID doesnt fit the typical mold of disorders encompassed by the insanity defense because unless some other illness is present, both the alter and the host know that the conduct is criminal, they arent acting under a delusion, and they arent under a sincere belief that murder is moral and just. Mikoto would not be found legally insane.

Mikoto would be found to have the requisite Mens Rea because as a matter of public policy, the alter is treated as one with the host

Having negated any defenses, Mikoto is likely to be found guilty of murder as he would have the actus reus and mens rea necessary for a conviction. An inextricable part of the host did in fact intend to kill someone, or intended to commit the act that killed someone, or intended to cause great bodily harm, so theres someone here who undeniably satisfies the legal elements for murder, hiding within someone who had no clue.

The law views a guilty alter as a guilty host. The alter is inseparable from the host, they would not exist without the host, and they would not be punished without simultaneously punishing the host. And because John is guilty, Mikoto is guilty under the law. This means Mikoto must be punished as well. Even the rehabilitative approach to punishment for crimes, which I’d say is most defendant-friendly, would require the full and complete “removal” of the offending alter, which means punishing the host to some degree.

And the evaluation of it is ultimately left up to the jury, and I dont think there’d be a jury that acquits him. Mind you, juries inherently doubt both the victim and the defendant when they provide testimony if there’s no corroboration. Be it by physical evidence or an expert witness. With DID, it would be expert witness testimony that kind of makes or breaks it. Right now, viewing what we have as the evidence, we only have Mikoto’s words as evidence of his DID. Without an expert, there’s virtually 0 chance that the jury would accept it as true. And because of Mikoto’s shock, I don’t believe he’s diagnosed, so there’s no expert possibility there either (usually they do bring the diagnosing physician along with several others appointed by the court and both parties).

And juries have the power to simply ignore a defendant’s mental illness in most cases when coming to a decision, if that mental illness did not CAUSE the crime, but only contributed or maybe explains a mental state. but thats a complicated topic with a lot of moving parts. When it comes to most any evidence or testimony, a jury can disregard whatever they believe is incredible, insubstantial, unconvincing. They can rule out a defendant’s (or victim’s) entire testimony as untruthful, they’re allowed to ignore literally any experts that testify if they find them incredible, they’re allowed to cherrypick parts of someone’s testimony to believe or not. They actually have an insane amount of power, so because DID isnt insanity under the law, if even one expert says “No, he doesnt have DID,” they can ignore 2, 3, 4 other experts saying “This guy has DID for real” and conclude that he’s lying. There’s nuances here and there but this will generally hold true. When it’s not the insanity defense or some other way of establishing an element of a defense, mental illness or trauma only holds weight as a mitigating factor in sentencing. And even then, it’s only if you can still somehow try to connect it to the offense. But this is paradoxical, because there has to be a balance between using evidence of mental illness as mitigation and not offputting a jury, as bad as that sounds.

More than anything in some cases, jurors are driven by their sympathy for the parties. And here, a jury is unlikely to be sympathetic to Mikoto, and much more likely to sympathize with the victims’ grieving families. Usually, DID or any other mental illness only garners juror sympathy insofar as they feel bad for the trauma that gave rise to it. It’s like “i hate what you did but i also hate what happened to you that made you this way.” It wont get someone off, but it’ll likely lower their sentence. Perhaps dramatically if the original trauma is particularly gruesome. Juries are unpredictable, but one constant seems to be mercy in the face of objectively undeserved hardship. If what we have now is our entire wealth of evidence, there is a sincere lack of sympathetic material for the jury to draw from wrt why Mikoto fractured in the first place, and for that reason, it’s honestly a very likely scenario that they simply don’t believe he has it at all.

And I don’t want to start any arguments so please dont take this as me putting my opinion out, but there is a common belief among the public, which does not evade the potential jury pool, that people fake all sorts of mental illnesses to avoid accountability. So absent an expert to corroborate the existence of a mental illness and how it impacted your conduct, that belief also likely leaks in.

Again, I’m not presenting opinion, just trying to tell you all everything from where I’m standing to give you the whole picture. All of my colleagues and opposing counsel have discussed the relationship between “identity politics” and increased use of labels to describe oneself off the bat, and juror sympathy, because convincing a jury is almost like a game. You can have all the evidence you need to make an irrefutable case, but how its presented to the jury ultimately makes a significant difference in the outcome. From what I’m told, overreliance on a mental disorder that does not fall within the umbrella of insanity when testifying to describe your offense makes a jury less sympathetic and less likely to believe you. And oddly it seems that keeping self-description of the hardships caused by your mental illness to a minimum has the inverse effect of increasing credibility with the jury, likely because they see it as trying to accept some form of accountability.

I’ll give a few examples. My boss has had a case where a defendant brought up an entirely different mental disorder, not DID. I won’t give out what disorder it was, but it was one my boss described as becoming somewhat “trendy” in the earlier 2000s. No experts testified on the defendant’s behalf, but both the prosecutor and defense attorney did believe the defendant truly suffered from it. The jury did not, in part because it was “trendy” and also because there was no evidence other than the defendant’s word. Given his crime, they believed there was reason to lie about having it, and there was nothing for them to find mitigating because nothing other than his word suggested the mental illness exacerbated the crime. It wasnt even a disorder that wouldve gotten him off on an insanity defense, it was just one for mitigation of sentence, and it was completely rejected- he got something in the realm of 20 years. He succeeded on an appeal for reconsideration of it, and brought in a few experts, but the prosecution also brought in an expert, and the new jury believed the prosecution’s one expert more- who still said the defendant had this disorder, but just that it didn’t contribute to or negate from the commission of the offense. This was an aggravated rape case.

Another example, there was a defendant who kept her description of his mental illnesses extremely short, it had to be coaxed out during testimony. Honestly, he had a pretty shitty go of it from the sound of his childhood and testimony. In a surprise move after originally agreeing to the mental illnesses angle of defense, when he testified, he himself went against his own experts and said his mental illnesses did not make him do what he did, and defended himself in a different way. So his testimony on his mental illnesses mirrored the prosecution’s expert witnesses’ views, but he just tried to justify it another way. Why, I don’t know. But he acted ashamed of what happened to him and what he suffered from mentally and was very clearly uncomfortable discussing it at all. The jury ended up finding that the mental illnesses in fact did mitigate his offense. He had committed multiple murder.

I’m not saying its right or wrong, but juries have little sympathy for mental illnesses that hold no weight in the crime you committed. And if im honest, juries do not want to be there. They have jobs and families and lives, and i wouldnt be surprised if some animus comes in when a defendant puts up evidence of a mental illness or gives long testimony about it when the mental illness did not functionally contribute to the offense/has only a tenuous connection, because it just means the jury has to be there longer. I dont know for sure, but ive seen them get irritated over the prosecution putting up more evidence than they need to, even though thats kind of the whole point- guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, and all the evidence eliminates any doubt. So in the same way, introducing repetitive testimony about a mental illness that doesn’t negate any element of the crime could also be seen as a waste of time to them because it doesnt actually modify the verdict itself.

So the odds are stacked against Mikoto under US law at least. Based on what we have, his DID does not negate mens rea.

I’d like to briefly just discuss the public policy goal behind this, as courts have viewed it and explained. There are five main goals of criminal law- retribution (ensuring consequences are dealt), deterrence (discouraging defendant and other similarly situated people from committing this offense), incapacitation (keeping the defendant away from the public and ensuring they cannot hurt anyone further), rehabilitation (reforming the defendant for safe reentry into society), and restoration (providing the victim or their family with restitution for the specific offense committed, attempting to remedy their harm). Sentences are catered to meet these goals as they relate to different offenses. Taken together, the biggest theme is to give justice to the specific victim, and make sure it doesnt happen to anyone else.

You cant force an alter to front or control their decision to front, so there’s no way to truly tell if that alter will front and do it again if the same stressors causing the front arise, even if you put the host in therapy. Because its not like a bit of therapy will make the DID go poof, I’m gone now, it’s a long and intense process that takes years because you have to target that incredible amount of trauma that comes with the formation of the alter in the first place. There’s concerns on the other end about how therapy to cure or get rid of DID is harmful to the host or simply impossible, and if that’s so, then clearly putting the host in therapy will do nothing to protect the public or bring justice to the victims.

Ultimately, the law prioritizes the rights of the victim and the potential for recidivism. Although it was an alter and not the host, the alter cant be punished without also punishing the host. So being left with the option of letting the host walk free with no relief to the victim because the murdering alter is also free, or imprisoning the host for the sake of imprisoning the alter, which is the proper choice? There is no “fair” option. But where there is no guarantee that this will not happen again, it is in the interest of avoiding recidivism and preserving public safety to isolate and imprison the host so the alter can be addressed.

There’s no direct example, but its kind of like if you took conjoined twins, and one commits a murder while the other had no control over the body parts used to murder that person, didn’t want to, and didn’t plan it or conspire to do it. There���s one conscious being that committed a murder, and imprisoning them means we must imprison the other conscious being of the same body who had no part in it or control over it. Is it more justiciable to let them go, knowing that the other twin may offend again and that the innocent twin cannot control the body enough to stop it? Or do we imprison them both, knowing one of them is innocent?

Likewise, how do we ensure deterrence, justice, rehabilitation, restoration, or incapacitation in the case of an alter committing murder?

The short answer is we really can’t without simultaneously imprisoning the host.

So under the law, he satisfies the actus reus, and he satisfies the mens rea. I’d think there’d be some mitigation because he seemed to genuinely not know, but you never know with a jury (which is why I think it’s wise to submit the factfinding for factors in aggravation/mitigation to the judge instead of a jury but that would be waiving your right to a jury trial on those matters). For these reasons, he’d be imprisoned notwithstanding whether an alter committed the offense.

[wksexcrimes]

Common Myths And Misconceptions About California’s Sex Offender Registry

California's Sex Offender Registry is subject to several myths and misconceptions. These misconceptions include beliefs that all registered individuals are dangerous predators, that the registry provides comprehensive protection, and that it accurately reflects the risk posed by each individual. In reality, the registry encompasses a wide range of offenses, not all of which indicate a high risk of reoffending. Additionally, the registry does not guarantee complete safety, as it may not include all offenders and does not assess individual risk levels. Understanding these myths is crucial for promoting accurate information and informed discussions about the registry.

[notaplaceofhonour]

One of the experiences that really highlighted to me how willing the left can be to turn a blind eye to and gaslight Jews about antisemitism was trying to talk about Michael Jackson’s antisemitism, such as in the song “They Don’t Care About Us”, which was released with the lyrics:

“Jew me, sue me, everybody do me / Kick me, kike me, don't you black or white me.”

I feel like that is shockingly straightforward with how antisemitic it is, both in its specific language (the K-slur & Jew-as-a-verb) and its conspiratorial bent in the context of the whole song. But when it came out and Jews were obviously appalled and spoke out about it, MJ made the standard “but have you considered that accusing me of bigotry offends me?” and “I was taken out of context!” statements that bigots make when they get called out on their bigotry.

As for MJ’s claim that he was taken out of context, here is some context: In 1993, MJ’s relationship with the press deteriorated when they began covering allegations of his child sex abuse. In the midst of this, tabloids ran a lot of scummy, sensationalized headlines—ruthlessly mocking his appearance and eccentricities and even running entirely false stories. This marked a drastic shift in MJ’s lyrics, which began to focus heavily on his victimhood (both real and perceived, often conflating both and tying them to broader social issues), with many of the songs on the next album HIStory (1995) being about this. “They Don’t Care About Us” is on this album. In 2003, there were revelations that Michael Jackson had grown close with members of Nation of Islam (a fringe and antisemitic hate group), and in 2005, Good Morning America aired a phone recording of Michael Jackson calling Jews “leeches”, claiming Jews had targeted him for his wealth, and saying “It’s a conspiracy. Jews do it on purpose”.

This is the context of Michael Jackson singing about being a stand-in for the victims of all kinds of real world oppression like racism and police brutality, and then saying he was being “Jewed” and “kiked”. It came out that he was molesting little kids, and rather than face the music, he tried to dodge responsibility by conflating those allegations with racism and the gross, sensationalist bullshit that tabloids were running on him; he wove all these things together in a narrative that he could use to wrap himself up in victimhood & conspiracy to position himself as not just a martyr, but the very archetype of martyrdom so that the world could, as he sang on the same album in his cover of John Lennon’s song, “Come together, over me.”

The lyrics were later changed to replace “Jew” & “kike” with abstract noise that drowned out the words or repetitions of “sue” & “strike”. But even so, this is still a song, not truly about inequality and injustice, but using inequality and injustice to shield a child molester from responsibility. And the fact that “Jew” can so easily be replaced with “sue”, not simply in sound but in meaning, without disrupting the narrative and tone of the song, belies the fact that Michael Jackson believed himself to be a victim of some sort of conspiracy between “(((The Media)))” and greedy Jewish lawyers.

And yet, trying to talk about this to this day, even with the benefit of hindsight, when it’s pretty well-accepted that MJ was in fact a child molester and knowing what he said about Jews after this song came out, it is next to impossible to get people to see the antisemitism in him tying together all oppression in the world as him being “Jewed” and “kiked” by (((The System)))—even when he literally says “Jew”, even when he says the K-slur, even when he refers to Jews as blood-suckers, even when he literally says Jews are conspiring against him. When people started using the song as part of the George Floyd protests, and I was like “hey, maybe that’s not a great idea” and gently tried to explain this context, I was ignored, told it didn’t matter because the song was about inequality, told Black people have every right to distrust Jews “because Jews are White” and stabbed Black people in the back by embracing Whiteness, etc. etc.

I think that is one of the times that really started to make it clear to me, “oh, yeah no, leftists can be staring straight at a K-slur in the mouth of a known sex offender and still say it’s fine”—something leftists generally would not do for any other vulnerable minority. It still astounds me.

[beardedmrbean]

An Ohio police officer has accused a sheriff’s office of wrongly taking her young child from her and then spreading “private” explicit images of her from her cellphone after she was slapped with a criminal charge that was later dropped, according to a bombshell lawsuit filed last week.

Mantua village cop Miranda Brothers, a single mother, lodged the lawsuit last Tuesday against the Portage County Sheriff’s Office a year after her life was turned upside down in what she claims was a stunning abuse of power.

The trouble for Brothers began on January 1, 2024, when sheriff’s investigators pulled her over and removed her then-5-year-old child from her car, accusing the mom of leaving the child alone with a registered sex offender, according to the lawsuit.

“You’re gonna take custody of my kid. For what?” she said that day, according to bodycam footage obtained by WOIO.

The child was placed in foster care and Brothers was charged with child endangerment. The complaint reportedly alleges Brothers allowed the sex offender to spend “extended periods of time alone” with her son.

But the lawsuit claims the allegations were unfounded, and the sheriff’s office had no evidence to charge her with a crime.

“Although she was charged with leaving the child alone with a registered sex offender, each of the officers that testified stated that they never saw any contact with the registered sex offender,” her lawyer Eric Fink told WOIO, which also posted the legal docs online.

The charge was reportedly dismissed over the summer. Brothers was initially suspended from work during the legal turmoil, but returned to duty after the case was dropped, the station reported.

“We are trying to find out what it is or what caused them to initiate this operation against her in the first place, and why they treated her so differently from any other parent in a similar situation,” Fink added.

Mantua is a village of about 1,000 people in Portage County.

As part of the investigation, the sheriff’s office confiscated her phone and while an unnamed detective combed over its contents, he found “private digital images” that were then shared within the department and “potentially further,” according to the legal action.

The suit calls the alleged conduct “so extreme and outrageous that it went beyond all possible bounds of decency and is intolerable in a civilized society.”

Fink, when asked by the station, said the photos were explicit.

“Law enforcement went through it, and they could not find any evidence of any wrongdoing on her cellphone or her child’s tablet,” Fink told the station.

“They did, however, find several pictures which they then passed around themselves that had nothing to do with the case.”

Brothers is seeking hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages, including for malicious prosecution and intentional infliction of emotional distress.

The Post has sought comment from the sheriff’s office.

[aaronminyardthebettertwin]

Ok so I’ve been back in my brain-rot and I can’t stop thinking about marauders criminal mind au where the lions and snakes are two different teams that work together from time to time.

Enjoy my ramblings as I can’t sleep and don’t have the willpower to plot this thing out right now I might write a ff about this after I got some sleep

The lions are like the main team:

James is team leader he is like the only one without childhood trauma he just wants to do good. He was always agent and worked organised crime before he stayed at the bau. His specialty that, hostage negotiations, spree killers and group dynamics

Sirius - the black family is still bad but not that bad (at first I was thinking mafia but I don’t think that really fits with what I pictured). So the idea is very strict military family with traditional values and an abusive approach. Sirius does not want that he rebels runs away at 16 lives ok with his uncles support finishes school and starts at quantico the same time James does. They become friends and keep in touch. He start working sex crimes. James brings him into the bau after some years. His specialty is victimology and sexual based offenders.

Remus- worked as a cop before becoming a profiler. Is their communication specialist and does anything press related. Has the task of ���choosing” the cases (like Jj). Has a chronic illness (his worsening and diagnosis lead to the job change) that limits his mobility and does most of his work in the precincts. Is also the one that speaks to most of the family members. His father died in a home invasion (the reason he became a cop to catch people like grayIForgotTheRestOfHisName) his mom raised him as a struggling single mother and supports him through all his decisions.

Peter- tech specialist. He is VERY good at what he does. Is a white hat (never hacked for himself or anyone else than the good guys). Has a degree in computer sciences. Taught himself most of his skills as a teen cause he got bored and was discovered early the state payed for his degree. He travels with the team a lot and works with his mobile rig unless its very tech heavy cases where he needs to be near the severs or it’s in the middle of nowhere and the connection would be to bad. His parents where killed when he was a teen & computers where his save space.

Lily - was a lawyer before the bau (a prosecutor like hotch) her specialty is geographic profiles, comfort zones and crimes involving children but she is also very good at everything else. Her parents where very harsch on her, she only has partial contact and is trying to fix her relationship with her sister who is the “perfect poster child” and became a doctor.

Marlene - is the Teams linguist. She speaks a lot of different languages and profiles all the messages left by unsubs. She is also very good at reading body language and figuring out if someone is lying. Her parents are diplomats so she moved a lot as a kid and had a hart time making friends.

Mary- has a law degree but never practiced she decided she wanted to be an fbi agent instead. Her specialty is phycology and signatures. She spends a lot of time Time to get into a killers head and compensates by keeping in contact with survivors and organising ways for them to support eachother.

Now the snakes are more like a red team (they also all speak multiple languages):

Regulus - is team leader. Did not get away form his family like Sirius did. He joined the military the first possibility he got (17 I think is the soonest you can join don’t quote me on that I am not American) he met Evan there and had his first real friend. He became a military cop and after a few years policing soldiers reconnected with his brother. Sirius inspired him to become a profiler as well. He is very good at it and ambitious so he got promoted fast and was offered his own team that he could hand pick (he is also one of the youngest team leaders there is)

Evan - also comes from a military family. The abuse in his family is more phycological than the black family. He bonded with regulus is basic and the kept in touch. Because of a phyc eval and other reasons he became a sniper. The military also payed for his med school and he was planing to become a coroner after. Regulus recuted him for his team instead and he took some curses in profiling. His specialty is victimology and body language. He is very good at interrogation by phycing the person out and being very unhinged. He is the least freaked out by violent crimes scenes but very compassionate even if he doesn’t show it.

Pandora- is Evans twin in this (because she always is in my AUs). Evan has protected and shielded her as good as he could as a child. She rebelnd and didn’t go to the military. Worked 2 jobs so she could pay for collage after being cut of. Is a computer and tech (software and hardware) Spezialist. Did some environmental hacking before joining the team but was never official caught or charged. Regulus chose her without knowing the connection to Evan and they laughed their ass of about it afterwards, he basically stole her from another team by offering her more field work and freedom about how she wants to handle things.

Barty- Senior is still a politician who wanted him to follow in his footsteps. Barty didn’t want to. His dad was really abusive to both him and his mom. He tried to get her out of it but she doesn’t want to so he cut contact to both (but still sends her money in hopes she may get the strength to get herself out). He decided to become an agent to help kids like him and women in similar situations that wanted help. He has a big problem with authority where he will speak his mind even if it hurts your feelings. That quality got him ridden up a lot but is also why reg chose him, he likes that he tells him what he is thinking without all the social bullsh*t. Barty has an eidetic memory and perfect recall he is basically a specialist in everything but especially good in thinking like the unsub.

Dorcas- has a history in going over her superiors heads without asking because they where sexist idiots and the work needed to be done. She has a degree in phycology and is the one that interviews most of the family’s and surviving victims. Before joining the team she was interviewing offenders because they didn’t want her anymore at the anti terror devision.

Ships because it’s maunders and there is always ships:

Wolfstar- they go through a painful slowburn and finally confess after Remus ends up in the hospital with a flare up. Just after they get together Sirius gets seriously (hehe) hurt and we get more angst. After that they fast track their relationship move in after ca. 3/4 months married after a year.

James/lily/regulus - lily is the only one who has figured out being poly before we begin she is interested in both but concerned about dating her boss. Regulus and her go on a few dates until he confesses he might also be interested in James. They bond over it and make a plan to get James to consider. They find a way around the whole boss thing by lily becoming a supervisory special agent and technically being in the same level as both her boys. They plan a lot before starting their family and take turns staying home with Harry after he is born combined with really good child care services (they have the money and James parents)

Lily/Marlene - they date separate (like poly people do). There is a little bit of a hierarchy but it is communicated properly and not that big. Harry just takes priority. They stated dating after Harry’s birth.

Mary/original nb character- her partner is an emt they meet at the job. Later they are involved in a case where emergency responders are targeted. They exchange numbers and start dating but decide to take it slow. No angst here they are a perfect pair and live their truth as lesbians (the nb character identities as an nonbinary lesbian cause I say so)

Peter/NASA Person (haven’t desided on the gender jet) - they are neighbours and keep running into eachother cause they both keep weird hours. They go on cute Coffee dates and nerd together.

Rosekiller- they have a will they won’t they thing and finally kiss is a life threatening situation just to decide to not speak about it afterward. Their team is shortly before staging an intervention when they finally get their sh*t together but tell no one except for Pandora (cause she knows everything). When it comes up on a case that they are dating money changes hands.

Pandora/xeno (Genderfluid)- they are a wild life specialist that she met through a university friend. They are dating the whole time and everything is fine. Luna is a nice surprise especially cause she is born in the same year Harry is. Xeno does a lot of work from home anyways so she stays there most of the time. There is also grandparents and the potters if he is away in some jungle.

Dorcas/original female character - she is dating a lawyer. They met over a case that the gf is prosecuting. There is some drama from time to time but nothing they can’t fix.

Side characters:

Frank and Alice- lilys childhood friends. Sometimes babysit Harry. Frank is a banker, Alice a baker.

Black cousins- andy is a social worker amd married to teacher Ted, Bella is a high ranking officer in the military, Narcissa is a pharmacist and divorced from Lucius, they are still friends they just didn’t work out it was a kind of arranged marriage and they got the best thing of their life’s out of it Draco.

Emilia bones- is a reporter. One of the good ones that does investigative work and doesn’t harass victims.

Dubeldore is a corrupt superior

mcgonagall -is the best boss ever and becomes director

Tom riddle is a cult leader- snakes do some undercover work.

Mad eye moody- is an unsub that nearly kills Evan barty has a crisis over it and nearly goes rouge

Lockhart- is a serial la offender who charms his victims a d drugs them with rohypnoll

Hagrit- is their door man/ security officer at the main building.

[wandussyfantasy]

Free Use (WandaNat)

Summary: After the events of Feeling Twenty-Two, Wanda invites you to stay with her and Natasha as long as you please. With the condition that they can have you whenever they want.

Word Count: 2.1k

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

bottom fem reader, g!p Wanda, g!p Nat, oral, threesome, legal age gap, praising, degrading, creampie, and freeuse

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

“I just don't understand why you won't tell us where you're moving to?” Kate gripes as she moves a box of your things into the moving truck. Wanda was happy to pay for it and even offered to hire movers but you didn't want to explain something you couldn't afford to your friends. After your trip to your home town, you returned to start a new semester at school. But you couldn't stop thinking about the women who made your twenty second birthday the most memorable birthday ever. They even took care of you the next morning and you never wanted to leave but you told them you had a flight a couple days from then that you couldn't miss. They understood and Wanda made you an offer that she allowed you to think about. She didn't want an immediate answer. She wanted you to think about it.

Which you did, every moment of every day. It was an unusual offer. But it was also a very beneficial one. It took her until the end of her summer break to feel confident in an answer. She had gone on several bad dates within that time and no one caught her eye enough to have a one night stand with. But she had plenty of nights by herself, masterbating to the memories of that night. 

“Kate, will you please drop it? I’ll come visit when I can. Besides, we have a few classes together. It's not the end of the world,” you say to comfort your friend. When you finally called Wanda and agreed, she invited you to her office. She is a lawyer, so she had a few legal documents of the arrangement drawn up. There is a discretion clause, meaning that you couldn't just parade around that you agreed to be a sex object for the couple. She said that you are allowed to have outside relationships and even have friends over at the house. But until you could figure out a way to explain your situation without explaining it, you didn't want your friends and family to know anything.

“Alright, I guess I can't say anything to make you stay,” Kate throws her hands up in defeat. “Just know, it's your fault if I end up in prison.”

You laugh at the thought of her blaming you for her actions. “How would that be my fault?”

Kate shrugs, “You keep me from doing stupid stuff. Now I can do all of the stupid stuff I want.”

You shake your head, “I’m sure your new girlfriend will supervise you.”

“Yelena will be in the cell with me, excuse you,” she pretends to be offended. 

The two of you share a laugh. You look around to see that everything you own is inside of the moving truck. “I’ll see you in class next week,” you pull your now former roommate into a tight hug. 

“I’m not going to see you for a whole week!” she is upset by the idea, but you couldn't promise any sooner. Not when it's your first week on the job. 

Live-in Nanny, is your official title. They don't have kids or even pets for that matter. But it looks good on paper for when you have to get a job after graduation and employers won't ask too many questions. “You’ll be fine without me for a week,” you say as you shut and lock the truck. 

You pull Kate into a quick hug before getting into the cab of the vehicle. You are anxious to get to Wanda and Natasha’s. Wanda had messaged you that they have a special welcome home celebration planned. You wanted to be there several hours ago. 

Arriving at the mansion again, your pussy gets wet at the first memories made here. The night of fucking and the morning of aftercare. Oh how excited you are to be back here. Once you park the vehicle, a moving team is ready to unpack the truck. You climb out and look at Wanda and Natasha with confusion written all over your face. “As excited as we are for you to move in, we aren’t going to waste time with that,” Natasha explains. 

“It’s not a waste of time,” Wanda corrects her wife. “We would have been happy to help you move in,” Wanda guides you into the house with an arm around you. “We just thought it was to preserve our energy for… other things.” You shift as you think about what the energy will be spent. 

“The little whore wants to ride our dicks while the movers work,” Natasha says to her wife in a low tone. Wanda shakes her head.

“Well, she will have to wait. I made a special dinner.” Wanda surprises you with a kiss on your neck. “But don't worry, babe, we'll have fun as soon as your stuff is moved in and the audience is gone,” she promises. 

“Of course, uh, what are we having?” Walking into the dining room, your question is answered without either having to say a word. Displayed among an extravagant dining table is a full spread of delicious looking food. “You really didn't have to,” you say to Wanda. 

“We know,” Natasha says as she pulls a chair out for herself. “But that's what makes Wanda so amazing,” she blows a kiss to her wife. She blushes and you love the way the couple interacts with each other. Wanda informed you that they've been together for close to eleven years but only married for four years. You asked her why they wanted to include you if they were happy with each other. Wanda told you that they have always wanted to have a more polyamorous relationship. But never could find someone that worked for both of them. Sure, there were people that were okay with being with a married person. But there weren't many that were okay with being with both Wanda and Natasha. You are the first. 

The meal is fun and easy. You were worried that although there is a great sexual chemistry, there might not be any other connection. But, those fears fade as the three of you engage in conversation for hours without an awkward silence. The food was amazing and you made sure to compliment Wanda. She flushed and asked you to stop raving, “You can thank me later,” she continued suggestively.

“I most definitely will,” you say as you imagine what you're going to do with her once you can. 

The three of you move to the living area to watch a movie. They insist that you sit in the middle and snuggle up to you shortly after the film starts. Halfway through the movie, the manager of the moving crew informs you all that they are finished. Wanda gets up to pay the man and his team. She leads him away and once the front door shuts, Natasha nudges you onto her lap. You comply out of curiosity and feel her erection at your entrance. She tries to pull down your yoga pants but finds it difficult to do so. Annoyed, Natasha rips the pants open so that your ass and pussy are exposed. She roughly massages your ass as you continue to watch the movie while getting increasingly aroused. 

Then, Natasha unzips her jeans and pulls herself out. She rubs her cock along your entrance, getting it covered in your juices. “Of course, you're ready for me,” she slips inside and you let out a low moan. Natasha bounces you on her cock. “Oh I hate this part of the movie,” she says. 

“Yeah, it's, it's, it's not my favorite,” you respond. When Wanda returns, she has a bowl of popcorn and she sits comfortably next to you and Natasha. You get turned on even more as they go about things as normal while Natasha is fucking you. When you had signed the contract and agreed to the FreeUse clause, you had no idea just how much you were going to enjoy it. 

Natasha cums inside of you and plops you back onto the sofa. She tucks her softening cock away and they pick the next movie. Wanda takes your hand and places it over her bulge. You hungrily release her penis from the tightening pants and put it in your mouth. You love the taste of her cock, especially her cum which you are working hard to earn. Already on your first day, you have cum dripping from your pussy and cum in your mouth. You are going to love it here.

A few weeks later, you are laying on your bed as you study for an exam when Wanda enters the room. Her cock is standing out of her pants and she climbs onto the bed, hovering over your body from behind. She enters you without warning and you gasp. “Hey Wanda,” you greet as she slowly humps into you. 

“Hey darling,” she kisses your neck. “What are you working on?” 

“I have an exam at the end of the week, just getting some studying out of the way,” you say. Wanda reaches around your body to play with your clitoris, causing you to clench around her thick cock. 

“That’s great, I love how studious you are.” Wanda praises. “You’re going to make a great business woman one day.”

“Thank you, baby. That means a lot coming from you. Oooh,” Wanda picks up her pace a little bit and you start to lose focus on your notes. She rubs your clit harder and harder until your body is spasming around her cock, milking her cum out of her. 

Wanda doesn't leave before eating out the mess from your pussy, giving you another organism. She kisses you and wishes you luck with your studying. You thank her and she is gone. 

A couple days later, you are making breakfast when Natasha walks in with her morning wood. “Wanda already left for work,” she says as she roughly enters you. She doesn't have a lot of time so she pounds into you until she is ready to cum. She pulls out and shoots her sperm on your back. “That looks good, have a plate ready for me when I come back down, please.” 

“Of course,” you say as you finish making the meal. 

One day, you arrive home after class to find Wanda and Natasha fucking on the kitchen table. You drop your things to join them. Gravitating to Wanda’s cock to suck on her as Natasha rams her cock into the woman's pussy. “Welcome home,” Wanda says through gasps. “How was your day?”

You pop her cock out of your mouth to answer. “It was good, I'm happy to be home though.” You take her cock back into your mouth and Wanda's head falls back at the over stimulation of her cock and pussy at the same time. When she is cumming, Natasha swiftly pulls out of her and pulls you off of Wanda by your hair and shoves her cock into your mouth. Wanda's cum continues to shoot out, making a mess on her stomach and table. Natasha fucks your face ruthlessly until she is releasing her orgasm in your mouth. 

“We’re so happy to have you back,” Natasha says through her grunts. She pulls out of your mouth breathlessly and looks at her dirty wife. “Clean her up,” she orders you as she walks away. 

Dutifully, you nod and start to lick up all of Wanda’s cum. “Thank you, baby,” she says as she lazily strokes your hair. You kiss her belly once it's only glistening with your saliva. She looks so beautiful and delicious splayed out naked on the table. You can't help kissing the rest of the way down to have your tongue in her sensitive pussy. “Ohhh,” Wanda says as you lick her just the way she likes. “I’m so happy you agreed to love us,” she says. 

“Not as happy as I am,” you reply sweetly. “Besides, it's easy loving the two of you.” 

Your words make Wanda emotional and she sits up on the table, requesting that you stand up. She pulls you into a deep kiss as she wraps her legs around your middle and her arms around your shoulders. “Please don't leave us.” 

“Never,” you promise, because you have no plans on ever doing so. 

“Nat and I have been wondering,” she starts a little nervously. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “Would you start sleeping in our bedroom, with us?”

You grin, feeling giddy as the relationship progresses, “Of course!” 

Wanda mirrors your expression. “I’m glad because,” she pulls your ear close to her lips, “I want to wake up with your tongue inside of me,” you get wet at the idea of how much more access the three of you will have to each other now. You never thought when you agreed to go home with her almost a year ago that this would be your life. But you are so grateful that it is.

[the-iceni-bitch]

She’s Many Places

Relationship: amazon!lawyer Natasha Romanov x petite!curvy fem reader (Big Red and Peach, NLLYL AU)

Word Count: ~1.4k

Summary: You love when Nat comes home.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (titty worship, petting, teasing, f/f sex, mentions of f receiving oral sex), good natured teasing about sugar mommy/baby relationship even though that’s not what they have, so much fluff, age gap relationship, an offended kitten, SMUT! 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Some sapphic fluff for pride (yes I know it’s not still Pride, but that’s a technicality) and oh my god I love these two. They’re so sweet together and playful and they give me the heart eyes 😍

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Natasha hummed to herself as she shook the rain off her umbrella, grabbing the mail out of the box and taking one last look at the gray sky before walking into the brownstone.

“Baby?” She took off her coat and kicked off her pumps, unpinning her hair as she moved down the hall while Gus wound between her legs. “Peach, are you here?”

“I’m in the living room!” You beamed at her over the top of your book. “Is it still raining?”

“Yeah, it’s gloomy.” She scooped up the kitten and sank next to you on the couch, kissing your cheek before resting her head on your lap. “And work was long. How do you feel about ordering in?”

“I feel fantastic about it.” You ran your fingers through her hair while she pulled out her phone to order something. “I want pasta.”

“Pasta?” She kissed your fingers after you poked her nose affectionately. “We can do pasta. With garlic bread. Split a tiramisu?”

“Mmhm.”

These soft domestic moments were everything with Nat. It was like every moment the two of you spent together just being close made you fall in love with each other even more. Saturdays at the farmers market always left you smiling when she would buy you flowers and you would share fresh blueberry scones. Sunday mornings in bed together where you made her pancakes and the two of you ate in bed and did the crossword while the kitten napped in a sunbeam would set her heart fluttering. And every time it got rainy and gloomy outside when the two of you would just cuddle were perfect.

“Hey peach?” Nat beamed up at you when you peeked down at her, turning and wrapping her arms around you so she could nuzzle into your stomach. “I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, Nat.” You giggled when she kissed your tummy, trying not to squirm when she pinched your side and tickled you a little. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself, wait a minute.” She scoffed when she pulled the blanket aside and saw what you were wearing, sitting up and pulling you into her lap while you squealed. “This is my sweatshirt!”

“It’s so comfy!” You laughed when she growled playfully and bit your neck, wiggling in her arms and gasping when she gave you a hickey. “Natasha!”

“What? It’s not like you have to go to the office.” She kissed the mark before pulling the collar of her sweatshirt aside to make another on your collarbone. “Bucky and his beefcake say hi, by the way.”

“My boys! I do miss them.” You tried to stay focused when she started kneading your ass but it wasn’t working. “I am enjoying my life as a sugar baby though.”

“Of course you are.” Nat purred when she edged her fingers under the edge of her sweatshirt and found you were only wearing panties. “Don’t even have to wear your own clothes, get to cuddle the kitten all day, and your pretty little pussy gets all the attention it deserves.”

“Wait, let me mark my page!” You screamed and laughed when she flung you down on the couch and climbed on top of you, your face heating up while the kitten ran off after screaming at the two of you for disturbing him. “Sorry Gus!”

“Gus will be fine.” Natasha grinned as she straddled your hips, her pencil skirt rising up her thighs until you could see the tops of her stockings while she tapped her finger against her plump bottom lip. God, she was hot, you still couldn’t believe she was in love with you sometimes. “Now, the food isn’t going to be here for twenty minutes, should I suck on your tits the whole time or just until your little pussy is all hot and wet then eat you out until you scream for me?”

“Well, I’m already wet.” You bit your lip and arched your back so the sweatshirt started to ride up your tummy, gasping when she reached between the two of you to rub your pussy through your panties. “Feel?”

“Yeah, I feel.” She started petting you while she leaned down to kiss your neck, tutting when you started to take off her sweatshirt. “That stays on. You wear my clothes, you get fucked in my clothes, new rule.”

“Okay.” You whined when she continued rubbing your cunt as she kissed her way down your chest. “You realize that’s not going to discourage me though?”

“It’s not supposed to, hush.” Nat winked at you before pushing her head under the sweatshirt and kissing the undersides of your breasts. “So soft.”

Natasha had never thought of herself as a tits man, but something about yours drove her fucking crazy. Maybe it was the way your pretty nipples would pebble as soon as her breath fanned over them, or when you shivered while she ran her nose along their soft curves. But she was pretty sure it was just because they were yours, and that you were so damn responsive when she paid any attention to them at all. So she started covering your chest with kisses, humming against your skin when you squirmed and whined for her.

Your eyes fluttered closed when she pulled as much of your breast into her mouth as she could and sucked softly, moaning as her tongue swirled around your nipple. She kneaded your other breast with her hand, smiling around your soft flesh when you arched your back to get even closer to her. When she felt you start to vibrate she bared her teeth, biting your nipple gently until you squealed.

“Natasha…” You laughed when she just grunted before kissing her way to your other breast. “One track mind.”

“Yep.” You could practically hear her smirking, but then she sucked on your nipple and pressed her fingers against your swollen clit through your panties and all you could do was whimper.

The rain kept pattering against the window as she worked you over like only she could, adding to the pleasant haze you were in while you gasped and sighed underneath her. She was so warm, so gentle with you. Her fingers kept stroking your pussy while she nibbled on your breast, rubbing your sensitive button until she heard your breath catch. All it took was a little pinch and you came with a squeak, your panties getting even more sticky as you gushed your release.

“Such a messy baby.” Nat ran her nose down your soft stomach slowly, her head slipping out from under her sweatshirt so she could grin at you. “You’re lucky I like it when all my furniture smells like you.”

“Oh my god, perv.” You giggled when she nipped at your hip before rubbing her nose over the gusset of your panties. “You’re such a dirty old lady.”

“Watch your mouth or I’ll spank you instead of licking your pussy.” She buried her face in your cunt and moaned even as she pinched your thigh in warning.

“Oh nooooooooo…” You yelped when she pulled back and swatted your pussy over your panties. “How terrible for me.”

“Oh… shut up.” Nat rolled her eyes before going back to work, taking the crotch of your panties between her teeth and growling mischievously when she started to drag them down your legs.

“Nat!” She didn’t stop when the doorbell rang, just grumbling as she kept dragging your underwear off like she was a riled up frat boy. “That’s the food!”

“But I’ve already got a warm, delicious meal right here.” Nat huffed when you poured at her, sitting up with your panties still in her mouth and giving you a show of sucking your juices out of them before she tossed them aside. “But I know you want your pasta.”

“Thank you.” You tugged the sweatshirt down to cover your hips and covered yourself with the blanket, clapping excitedly when you smelled the bolognese. “You’re the best sugar mommy ever.”

“You’re such a tease.” She pulled you into her lap after handing you your container, kissing your temple when you bit into your garlic bread. “I do love spoiling you, though, sweet little peach. So eat your pasta, and I’ll let you eat all the tiramisu while I have you for dessert.”

[the-cimmerians]

Well, here it comes, a filing at the Republican-controlled Sixth US Circuit Court of Appeals that could lead to the overturn of the rights to same-sex marriage, birth control, even the right to have same-sexy-sextimes in the privacy of one’s own home, courtesy of Apostolic Christian Kentucky court clerk Kim Davis and her designated-hate-group law firm, Liberty Counsel.

Yes, it’s THAT lady again, the one the hair who’s been pitching one long legal fit since 2015, starting when she refused to sign marriage certificates for gay couples after Obergefell v. Hodges made same-sex marriage the law of the land, moaning that it would violate her right to religious expression to have her Godly Christian signature on such sinful paperwork.

The couples sued her for being a flagrant asshole who denied them their rights, and a jury agreed with them. Davis appealed to the Supreme Court, back in the saner days of old (2020 and before), they didn’t want to hear it.

Nevertheless, Justice Clarence “RV” Thomas took the opportunity to write a whole unsolicited statement about how the victim here wasn’t nice couples in love trying to get married like they were legally allowed to do, but poor Kim Davis, because now everybody thinks she’s a bigot instead of decent, good, and honorable, and that makes her sad. How dare Obergefell have not considered the right of Christian moral scolds to butt into everybody’s private life and make scenes, the way God intended?

[ ]

So now Davis and Liberty Counsel have an in, using Thomas’s statement to take their legal spanking to the 6th Circuit as being UGH SO UNFAIR to Davis as an oppressed bigot-American. Also while the 6th Circuit is at it, Davis thinks they should “reconsider all of th[e] Court’s substantive due process precedents, including Griswold [v. Connecticut], Lawrence [v. Texas], and Obergefell”, maybe the 6th Circuit could have a talk with the manager?

[ ]

But guffaw, Liberty Counsel is never happy! Not for nothing the Southern Poverty Law Center designates them as a hate group! Their lawyers Mat (one ‘T’) Staver and Matt Barber have opined many times that gay sex is so ew yuck icky that we should all have an entire civil war about it. In 2019 Liberty Counsel was publicly mad that gay people were included in the federal Justice for Victims of Lynching Act, lest you think they aren’t deadly serious about wanting to kill people.

That’s a goal that also tops on Project 2025’s wish list, that plus labeling content with LGBTQ people in it as pornography, making “pornographers” register as sex offenders, and that sex offenders should get the death penalty. And like Davis, Project 2025 would also like to throw out the Comstock Act and have the FBI spend their time searching people’s mail for suspected “abortifacients.”

[democracyunderground]

WASHINGTON (AP) — President Joe Biden is commuting the sentences of roughly 1,500 people who were released from prison and placed on home confinement during the coronavirus pandemic and is pardoning 39 Americans convicted of nonviolent crimes. It’s the largest single-day act of clemency in modern history.

The commutations announced Thursday are for people who have served out home confinement sentences for at least one year after they were released. Prisons were uniquely bad for spreading the virus and some inmates were released in part to stop the spread. At one point, 1 in 5 prisoners had COVID-19, according to a tally kept by The Associated Press.

Biden said he would be taking more steps in the weeks ahead and would continue to review clemency petitions. The second largest single-day act of clemency was by Barack Obama, with 330, shortly before leaving office in 2017.

“America was built on the promise of possibility and second chances,” Biden said in a statement. “As president, I have the great privilege of extending mercy to people who have demonstrated remorse and rehabilitation, restoring opportunity for Americans to participate in daily life and contribute to their communities, and taking steps to remove sentencing disparities for non-violent offenders, especially those convicted of drug offenses.”

The clemency follows a broad pardon for his son Hunter, who was prosecuted for gun and tax crimes. Biden is under pressure from advocacy groups to pardon broad swaths of people, including those on federal death row, before the Trump administration takes over in January. He’s also weighing whether to issue preemptive pardons to those who investigated Trump’s effort to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election and are facing possible retribution when he takes office.

Clemency is the term for the power the president has to pardon, in which a person is relieved of guilt and punishment, or to commute a sentence, which reduces or eliminates the punishment but doesn’t exonerate the wrongdoing. It’s customary for a president to grant mercy at the end of his term, using the power of the office to wipe away records or end prison terms.

Those pardoned Thursday range in age from 36 to 75. About half are men and half are women, and they had been convicted of nonviolent crimes such as drug offenses, fraud or theft and turned their lives around, White House lawyers said. They include a woman who led emergency response teams during natural disasters; a church deacon who has worked as an addiction counselor and youth counselor; a doctoral student in molecular biosciences; and a decorated military veteran.

Louisiana resident Trynitha Fulton, 46, was one of the pardons; she pleaded guilty to participating in a payroll fraud scheme while serving as a New Orleans middle school teacher in the early 2000s. She was sentenced to three years of probation in 2008.

“The pardon gives me a sense of freedom,” Fulton said in a written statement to the AP. “The conviction has served as a mental barrier for me, limiting my ability to live a full life.”

“The pardon gives me inspiration to make more impactful decisions personally and professionally,” she added.

After her conviction, Fulton went on to earn a master’s degree. She helps lead the nonprofit Skyliners-Youth Outreach, which supports New Orleans youth by providing hot meals, clothing, shelter and mental health referrals.

The president had previously issued 122 commutations and 21 other pardons. He’s also broadly pardoned those convicted of use and simple possession of marijuana on federal lands and in the District of Columbia, and pardoned former U.S. service members convicted of violating a now-repealed military ban on consensual gay sex.

Rep. Jim McGovern, D-Mass., and 34 other lawmakers are urging the president to pardon environmental and human rights lawyer Steven Donziger, who was imprisoned or under house arrest for three years because of a contempt of court charge related to his work representing Indigenous farmers in a lawsuit against Chevron.

Others are advocating for Biden to commute the sentences of federal death row prisoners. His attorney general, Merrick Garland, paused federal executions. Biden had said on the campaign trail in 2020 that he wanted to end the death penalty but he never did, and now, with Trump coming back into office, it’s likely executions will resume. During his first term, Trump presided over an unprecedented number of federal executions, carried out during the height of the pandemic.

More clemency grants are coming before Biden leaves office on Jan. 20, but it’s not clear whether he’ll take action to guard against possible prosecution by Trump, an untested use of the power. The president has been taking the idea seriously and has been thinking about it for as much as six months — before the presidential election — but has been concerned about the precedent it would set, according to people familiar with the matter who spoke to The Associated Press on condition of anonymity to discuss internal discussions.

But those who received the pardons would have to accept them. New California Sen. Adam Schiff, who was a part of the House committee that investigated the violent Jan. 6 insurrection, said such a pardon from Biden would be “unnecessary,” and that the president shouldn’t be spending his waning days in office worrying about this.

Former Rep. Liz Cheney, R-Wyo., another target of Trump’s threats, said in a statement this week that his suggestion that she and others be jailed for the investigations “is a continuation of his assault on the rule of law and the foundations of our republic.”

Before pardoning his son, Biden had repeatedly pledged not to do so. He said in a statement explaining his reversal that the prosecution had been poisoned by politics. The decision prompted criminal justice advocates and lawmakers to put additional public pressure on the administration to use that same power for everyday Americans. It wasn’t a very popular move; only about 2 in 10 Americans approved of his decision, according to a poll from The Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research.