#sorry that there's so much tension at first

[foxy-eva]

Send Nudes

Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 

It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 

It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 

Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 

A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 

You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 

“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 

You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 

You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 

Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 

“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 

“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 

“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 

“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 

Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 

A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.

“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 

“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.

Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 

“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 

“I’m not… offended.”

You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 

“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 

Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 

If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.

The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 

He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 

“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”

“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 

He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 

Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”

“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?

He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”

“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”

That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 

“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”

His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.

His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 

The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 

It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 

He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 

A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.

Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”

The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 

“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”

A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”

“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 

Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 

Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 

He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 

When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 

Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 

Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 

Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 

It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 

As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”

His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 

“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 

He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 

“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 

“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 

The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 

You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 

Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 

Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 

“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 

It was everything you wanted right then, too. 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 

He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 

Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 

Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 

You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 

“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 

He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 

There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.

“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 

His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 

With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 

The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 

You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 

“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 

Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 

With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 

“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 

The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 

“So, you want to fuck me?” 

“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”

With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 

Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 

“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 

Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 

Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 

“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”

One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 

With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 

For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 

“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 

You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 

“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 

“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”

“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”

“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

[kumkaniudaku]

Spoiled

Summary: Tensions boil over on the Thanksgiving trip to New Orleans.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,060

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Previous: Sorry 2024

“Where’s Treece?” 

Terry couldn’t care less but entertained the question for his mother’s sake as he took the seat closest to the window at their reserved table for a late breakfast. 

“In the room pouting,” He grumbled with his annoyed glare focused solely on the breakfast menu. “She’ll be down eventually. Or not. I don’t know or care.”

Marvin chuckled over his mug of coffee. “I’m not all that convinced, son, but I’ll let you have it.” 

As much as they were lovers, Terry and Patrice were friends who bickered like siblings. Petty back and forths reared their ugly heads at inopportune moments, leading to heated, silent arguments. A refusal to raise their voices at each other out of respect resulted in hushed whispers and sarcastic jabs that were so ridiculous to those not involved that Terry’s parents often referred to them as live telenovelas. 

Their latest episode was the most trivial to date. 

Separate families stationed in conflicting parts of the country forced the newest Richmond couple to compromise on how they split their holiday schedule. With a family known for their culinary pursuits, Terry naturally claimed Thanksgiving for his side. Although she couldn’t bear the thought of missing her Nana’s fresh apple pie, Patrice compromised with the caveat that their New Year’s plans were neutral ground for them and them alone. Handshake and lip lock agreements set them on a path to plan for the final six weeks of the year. 

For all of his careful planning, Terry didn’t anticipate how his wife’s commitment to the pupils under her care would collide with his plans to spend extended time in New Orleans. 

“Baby, it’s just two days.” He explained to Patrice while he helped clear the table after dinner one evening. “I’ll get you on the first flight out Wednesday morning. Promise.” 

“I know, but still. I’m gonna miss you. We’re not apart that often.” 

“We’ll make it worth the wait once you get there.” 

Repeated promises to steal some alone time once reunited preceded quick kisses as Terry prepared to join his parents and siblings on a flight early Monday morning. But, once the sun set on their first day apart in months, loneliness and frustration set in for Patrice. Text messages slowed to a creep. Sparse voice notes attempted to fill the void left in their near-silent home. She wasn’t mad at Terry for enjoying time with his loved ones. She was pissed at herself for being so lovesick that her stomach churned. Sickening. This type of yearning was sickening.

Excitement took a backseat to unshakeable irritability on her solo flight to the Big Easy on Wednesday morning. No hugs, kisses, or meaningful conversation for 48 hours could send even the most solitary person over the edge. Terry sent messages in droves to share his excitement for her arrival and she fought the urge to snap back at him. His smiling face greeting her at the hotel’s front entrance briefly soothed her ire until the reality that they couldn’t shake his family’s company set in. 

Every private conversion came with an intrusion. Kisses meant to go further than a quick peck were interrupted before they could start. Attempts at sneaking away never came to fruition. Soon, Patrice’s sour attitude became Terry’s disposition. He knew his anger was misdirected, but couldn’t find the words to explain his annoyance. 

They didn’t speak before bed Wednesday night and barely looked at each other Thursday morning. One angry Richmond was enough. Two made everyone uncomfortable. 

“It’s time for breakfast, Treece.” What Terry intended as an innocent reminder came out as a gruff bark that he couldn’t take back before Patrice opened her mouth to respond. 

“I know! I can see the time!” 

“Then hurry up!” 

“Fuck it! I’ll eat by myself!” 

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Their silly exchange ended with Terry tossing the second hotel key on the bed before he stomped out of the room, allowing the door to slam behind him. 

The moment replayed in his head as he scanned the menu for something they could share in case she made her way out of self-imposed solitary confinement. 

“Well, I hope she makes it down. I wanted her to try a few things,” DeeDee added, unaware that the entire conversation was pushing her son to his limits. “The French toast is something.” 

Terry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, if you can get her off the third floor, do whatever you please.”

“She’s probably happy to have you out of her back pocket. My girl can’t catch a break,” Zorah teased. 

Zanah laughed and shook her head. “You haven’t seen Patrice. I swear she was trying to climb into his skin when the elevator doors opened last night. They’re equally insane.” 

“See what happens when you end up in grown folks’ business?” 

“Oh, please.” 

Zanah childishly stuck out her tongue and received a middle finger pulled out of his hoodie’s front pocket as a prize for her antics. 

“Stop it, you two.”

“I thought when y’all became adults all this shit would slow up,” Marvin groaned, shaking his head as his two stubborn children traded schoolyard insults just short of joking about each other’s mama. Movement in his periphery offered what he hoped was a change of pace. “Oh thank God. The guest of honor is here.”

Patrice offered a weak wave and smile upon her approach, hoping they couldn’t see the remnants of a frustrated cry on her face. Terry could, though. He flashed her a concerned look and she answered with eyes that begged him not to inquire further. A round of hugs and greetings sent her to the empty seat across from her husband. 

The friction between them was palpable. They didn’t extend each other the luxury of pet names and googly-eyed grins like they normally would. Time spent canoodling was replaced by stolen glances and tight-lipped requests to pass over utensils. 

DeeDee cleared her throat for their attention. “Um, hi. Mom checking in here. Is there a problem between you two that we should be aware of?” 

“No,” Patrice answered loud enough to eclipse whatever Terry attempted to share. “We’re fine. James is not feeling very affectionate this morning for reasons unknown, but we’re fine outside of that. Right, James? Just fine, huh?”

“Peachy. Nicole is throwing a tantrum over God knows what but Nicole refuses to say more than three words to me at a time, so, while I love Nicole, I will not spend my morning chasing her around because Nicole is not a child and can use her words.”

Terry’s rant came through gritted teeth, leaving him almost out of breath as he neared the end. 

Patrice couldn’t formulate a rebuttal despite wanting to take their spat to the next level. She could only hang on to the firmness in his tone, the words sounding more like a warning than an explanation for their distance. Terry caught the flicker of something mischievous in her eyes and how she slowly crossed her legs beneath the table before grazing her foot against his clothed calf. His frown faltered for a moment. An unspoken understanding was telepathically communicated.

Four sets of eyes stared back at the standoff in utter confusion. 

Zanah took a loud sip of water to snap them out of their trance. “Oh-kay. So, I was thinking about gettin’ this crawfish omelet. Daddy, you oughta get the quesadilla so I can get a piece of that and, Zo, you get the Benny.” 

“But I don’t wanna share my food with you.” 

“Zorah! We are twins. We share!”

Chatter about seafood dressing and late-night spades tournaments planned for the rest of the day swirled around Terry and Patrice as they maintained senseless anger, too committed to the misunderstanding to relent without feeling embarrassed. 

The quiet simmer of mixed emotions followed them after tabs were paid, cocktails were consumed, and the elevator lifting them to the third floor was emptied of spectating parties. Terry pretended to type into his phone while sneaking looks at the way Patrice’s ass sat up in her leggings. 

“You wanna talk when we get in or what?” 

Patrice turned to look over her shoulder. “We can.” Her eyes caught the slow lick of his bottom lip before flickering back up to find him already watching her. “If you want.” 

“Good. I’m tired of the attitude.” 

“Great because I’m tired of yours.”

Having a civil discussion became a background thought once the soft buzz and click of their room door put them seconds away from the privacy they so desperately craved. 

Terry covertly slid the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside handle before double-checking the deadbolt lock and metal latch. Patrice busied herself with the television remote, turning a rerun of CSI: Miami up to a reasonable volume. Just enough to drown out an explosive meeting of minds or bodies. 

“Ready?” Terry questioned as he pulled his hoodie up, then over his head to deposit it on the back of the nearby desk chair. “We only have an hour or so before we need to head out.” 

“I think we can settle this pretty quick. Don’t you?” 

“Depends. I got a lot to say.”

They watched each other step out of their shirts, socks, and pants, still pretending that some relationship chat was on the other side of their time together. 

Down to thin layers of underwear and insatiable desire, they met for skin-to-skin contact. Patrice set a pace that only Terry could match. Frantic hands gripped broad shoulders to hike one long leg around his waist. Heavy hands found a home beneath round ass for a full sensory experience. 

Patrice pulled away from a messy kiss for a deep enough breath to bark instructions at her phone for a 15-minute timer. The race was on. Friction would either bring a resolution or be why they found common ground. 

Words were hard to come by during a hungry heavy-petting period. Shared breaths and wandering hands communicated every need, peeling away the last barriers that kept them separated. Touch me like this. Kiss me there. I need you here. 

Soon, the itchy hotel carpet pressed into the delicate skin of Patrice’s knees while she looked up at a clenched jaw and flexed abs. She wanted to feel him grow to all of his glory inside her mouth, and he was happy to oblige her request. A fist full of knotless braids kept Terry feeling like he had control of the situation, though they both knew the truth. 

Gagging and gawking provided a filthy auditory masterpiece that he hoped to remember for as long as he lived. Curses meant as praise fueled her performance as she pressed crescent moons into his thighs to remain stable. Her lash extensions drooped under the weight of alligator tears. Her jaw ached from being stretched to capacity over and over. Her thighs burned from her kneeling position. None of the discomforts could deter her from the goal. 

Terry gently placed a warm palm on Patrice’s cheek, admiring her work with a hazy smile. “Missed me, huh?” he breathed out, earning a grin. 

“Mhmmm.”

“I missed you, too. Come here.”

“Missed” was an understatement. A flat-out lie. He was just as needy, just as excited to be inside her, just as ready to abandon demure social norms to unleash the lust and love brewing inside as she was. 

An indescribable pleasure emerged from using and being used. No holds barred. Unrestrained aside from muffled groans unleashed into crisp white pillowcases and skin slick with fresh sweat. 

Terry kept Patrice’s chest pressed into the bed with one hand splayed between her shoulder blades and the other tangled at her roots. She fisted the sheets to keep a grip on the bed and reality while her eyes went in and out of focus. An open mouth produced choked squeaks between sharp breaths. She listened to her name roll from her lover’s lips like a sonnet written just for her. 

He was close. His body tensed with every stroke. Sweet talk broke into throaty groans. Hips lost their rhythm as they sought deeper connection. It was a good angle, but Patrice knew it could be better. It had to get better. This had to be worth it. Who knew when they’d have the chance to fuck each other senseless in the city they made their first commitment to rekindle an almost forgotten flame?

“Let me see you,” Patrice moaned, her head turned just enough to get Terry’s attention. “Please. I wanna see your face.” 

Exhausted limbs shifted and reconnected at the head of the bed, dragging linens along with them. Patrice propped her body on one elbow to shorten the distance between their faces before pulling Terry into a kiss by the back of his head. He was equally tender and possessive, leading with full lips and a tongue eager to taste the remnants of juice and syrup left inside her mouth. 

Then came fingers. Patrice replaced her swollen lips with her middle and ring digits in search of lubrication for other pursuits. The dull ache between her legs needed concentrated attention to reach the promised land. Terry didn’t need further direction. He did as he was told with a gaze just playful enough to convey that he knew what was up. He couldn’t wait to witness what she had in store. 

Their foreheads pressed together as they focused on the slow, lazy circles Patrice drew on her pearl. Terry added his contribution according to her pace, drawing in and out so dazed that he wouldn’t have been able to repeat his name if prompted. 

His brow furrowed to match his effort. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” 

He meant his compliment for his wife though he spoke the words to the body responsible for his glee in the moment. She giggled and threw her head back like a cowgirl to enjoy the ride.

Terry readjusted his angle to chase her lips as a familiar tingle set in. His arms hooked one leg at the bend of her knee before pressing forward on one hand for leverage to drive faster. Harder. 

They were close again, each chasing an individual high harder and faster than before. 

Patrice tried to play innocent as her sultry voice egged him on with seemingly innocuous statements. “You’re so good to me, baby. What did I do to deserve you, hm?”

He tried to slow down, tried to prolong the moment despite his hips driving forward with more and more power. Patrice licked and kissed the shell of his ear to egg him on. 

“Don’t hold back, Terrence. I’m all yours.”

A whimper escaped past his lips before a simple concession speech. “Oh…fuck.”

An unraveling. Muffling broken words against lips curled into a triumphant smile, Terry came undone with his eyes clamped shut to see colors dance behind closed lids. Her orgasm crashing in wasn’t enough for Patrice to break eye contact. She stared back the entire time, mouth opened and eyes transfixed in a devious stare under low eyelids. She didn’t want to miss a moment of his chest heaving, arms tensing, and hips bucking to deliver her the perfect body high she could get without drugs. Earth-shattering, thigh-quaking releases had their place, no doubt. They could never replace the sensation of falling more in love with every electric shockwave brought forth by the love of her life. 

Terry floated back into reality feeling lightheaded, stress-free, and searching for sweet kisses to cap off filthy deeds. 

“Baby, you’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?” he joked before pressing three quick pecks to Patrice’s lips. “Spoiled and gorgeous.”

She giggled along with him. “If that’s true, why haven’t I been able to get rid of you yet.”

“Because I like you like that. You think I do all this for you to be normal?” 

Light laughter and yet another round of theme song guitar synths rang out as they disconnected and found rest cuddled atop crumpled sheets. Patrice shifted to place her chest on top of Terry’s and traced her index finger along his beautiful cheekbones. 

“We’re playing with fire, TJ. I know you got the notification about this week being risky.”

“Don’t act like I was the one throwing a tantrum this morning.” 

“A tantrum is strong, okay! A tiny meltdown, maybe.” The sudden ring of her long-forgotten alarm cut their laughter short and drew attention to the nightstand. “Right on time.” Patrice stretched across Terry to handle the distraction, drawing his physical attention as he caressed and dropped kisses along her hip. She came back to him and kissed both of his lips separately. “Sorry for being a bitch. I’m working on it.”

“Ask for what you want next time. It’s yours. I’m yours,” He answered as he pushed a few stray braids over her shoulder.

“Use my words?” 

“Use your words.”

“I need more kisses. Or I'll melt. You wouldn't let me melt, right?”

Amorous feelings were back on the rise as they shared a slow, relaxed kiss unfit for two people on a tight schedule. 

Patrice pulled a way first to nuzzle her nose against Terry’s. “D’you wanna shower with me? It’s okay if you don’t. I just…need to spend a little more time together.”

She was bashful, almost refusing to look him in the face as if asking him to bathe together was somehow more revealing than what they’d just shared. 

“Not too hot on the water, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Terry chuckled as another kiss and loose instructions sent Patrice on her way with a giddy hop in her step. He listened to her make arrangements in the bathroom while he made the room more like somewhere to sleep and not ground zero of a natural disaster. 

He placed clothes in neat stacks, straightened items that took a tumble in the heat of the moment and piled dirty sheets in the middle of their bed. When all was complete, he took a seat to contact the front desk. 

“Hey, could we get some fresh sheets later today? Room 335.” Patrice calling for him from the shower made him smile against the receiver. “Sure, extra towels too. Yes ma’am. I appreciate it.” 

Thank God for housekeeping. In one hour the room would return to pristine condition for another romp or relaxation. A night of good food and better drinks would decide their fate for them.

-------

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee

[girlfromflor]

56 DAYS (sjy) | PART TWO (FINAL)

pairing: enemie!jake x fem!reader | read the prequel and part one

summary: after your best friend jay made you share an apartment with jake – “the guy you don’t like” –, you have to decide whether you should or not give into the feelings he makes you experience, something possibly pleasant and definitely memorable.

genres: "enemies" (reader is in denial) to lovers, accidental roommates, summer love, also has a bit of angst, smut

warnings: read the first parts otherwise the story won't make much sense, swearing, cliché guys i’m sorry, this is very domestic, they act like an old married couple, jake is in love y’all, lots of tension, some crying, reader likes to be alone, they tease the fuck out of each other (not sexually), they thirst over each other a lot (very, very sexually), they bond over music and food, mentions of two piece bikini, its implied that jake is taller than reader, they overthink a bit, but mostly just lots of fluff, and smut (so MDNI) that includes: sex dream mentions, dirty talk, sub!reader, dom!jake, unprotected sex (y’all know better, this is fiction), praising, biting, slapping, pain kink?, slight degradation, begging, marking, spitting, brief fingering, hair pulling and choking

wc: 15.273 | playlist: 56 days.

a/n: can't believe this is finally out, it took me so long omfg. each part is named after a song in the playlist. anyways, hope you guys like it<3 | taglist: @manuosorioh @tunafishyfishylike

DAY 1 - Do You Like Me?

56 days. it was too much. that was no way you could both get out of this whole thing alive, everyone knew that. you will end up killing jake and then yourself. jay always said that it was going to be fine, because he knew you enough to be aware that the strongest thing between you just wasn’t mutual dislike. when he bid you two goodbye earlier this morning he just asked – really affectionately – for you to be nice to each other, with a knowing look and a teasing smile. you reminisced the moment already missing him and jake, as he drove you two back to your apartment, thought the same.

the ride back home was very quiet, jake didn’t say a word about how you both were going to be very alone together for the next few weeks and you didn’t either. you thought it was best to keep at least some of the good mood of jay’s constant yapper as much as you could, since soon enough all you two would have is each other's company – and that’s a big no-no for you. jake thought – in all his honesty – that no time alone with you was enough. he just couldn’t wait to have you all to himself and, as soon as you step inside the comforting surroundings of your home, jake doesn’t shut up. he spends all day talking your ear off about every single thing there is to talk about, anything he could use as an excuse to chat with you – he even went so far as to chase you around the house so you’d keep listening to his yapping.

it’s day one without jay and you’re already arguing. over what? you didn’t even know anymore. it kind of started because he didn't leave you alone since eight in the morning when you two got home, then he didn’t clean the mess he made in the kitchen while cooking and then he accused you of taking forever to shower – which shouldn’t really matter because he has his own fucking bathroom –, and now you’re just competing over who’s choosing the movie you're gonna watch.

“i got here first, i’ll choose it.” he says, shoving you on the other end of the couch, his big hand locking you in place by your shoulder. he’s trying really hard not to laugh to keep a serious facade, but it’s almost impossible with the way you're so shamelessly throwing a tantrum right now – he wouldn’t imagine you’d actually want to watch a movie with him.

“but you’ll choose something i won't like, on purpose,” you reply, pouting. giving up on trying to sit up and just comically laying there, your arms falling from the cushion – and jake thought you never looked cuter. you didn’t even want to fight, but it seemed like getting on your nerves was his goal for the evening.

“now, that’s simply not true. don’t you like horror movies?” he asks as he skips all netflix suggestions to search for a specific movie he heard you talk one too many times with jay, finally letting go of your arm, alternating his glance between you and the tv as he watched you switch positions and rest your back on the couch’s backrest.

“i do, but–” you pause, there was no way he knew that from you, so how did he know you're fond of horror movies anyways? you ignored your traitor thoughts – the ones that told you he paid true attention to you –, choosing to keep talking, “yes, but i still feel kinda scared sometimes.”

he cooed, like you were a cute child. “well, nothing to worry about then,” he says, and leans a bit closer, arm resting on the couch's backrest right behind you. as he winks at you, flirty ways never quite leaving him, he completes “i’m right by your side.”

you huff, sinking further into the couch, knowing him, there's no way you’d win this fight anyway. but your attitude did nothing to distract him from your flustered face and shy demeanor. “whatever, jake. just choose it already,” you mutter, arms crossed and knees to your chest making it all very entertaining for jake to watch.

the movie he chose was coincidentally your favorite horror movie. you loved it because, even though you knew it all by heart, you couldn’t help but flinch at most jumpscares. it was just so good you always got in a trance while watching it. still, it seemed like it wasn't going to happen tonight. you’d catch jake looking at you side eyed and it both intrigued and angered you. you always asked “what?” genuinely curious to know why he couldn’t just focus on the damn movie, but he brushed you off everytime, making it seem like you were just overthinking.

being completely unaware that jake have paid the movie little to no attention, you keep your eyes on the screen. jake uses this moment to appreciate your presence a little. making an effort to not look at you and distract you from your favorite horror show yet again, he becomes more aware of your presence. he then realizes you didn’t move away from him when he put his arm to rest behind you. you were just sitting there, so naturally – like it happens all the time. does this mean you’re comfortable? it has to be it, right? the thought itself catches him off guard, and he doesn’t want to move even for an inch, if that means you won’t move either. by the time the movie ends his body is a bit sore from trying so hard to stay in the same position – he thought it was kind of ridiculous, but that’s just how love is. 

not wanting it all to end just yet he asks you, “do you want to watch another one? we can make popcorn this time…” his eyes pleading, almost like it would physically sting him if you said no.

you look at him with a puzzled look, but nod in agreement regardless. it’s summer break, you don’t have class tomorrow and nothing else to worry about – also, the night sky outside is just begging for another round of spine-chilling story. making your way to the kitchen to make some popcorn for you two, you say “i’ll make popcorn, do you want to choose the next movie too?” giving him the opportunity to do it felt slightly out of character for you, but you can’t deny that his first one was a good choice – not that you’d let him know that, of course.

“no, you can choose now, pretty girl,” he winks at you as he answers, “but thanks, that’s sweet of you.” 

you roll your eyes, thinking you shouldn’t have said anything. “shut up, jake,” is your reply and you feel a bit disappointed by the fact that you couldn’t think of something else – mind unfocusing, wrapped around the way he had just called you a pretty girl. you try to shake it off and once the popcorn is ready you come back to the living room, settling down on the couch’s end by jake’s left side and pressing play in a thriller you’ve been dying to watch. 

he silently hates that you’re not by his side anymore, but he focuses on the movie. mid-way through it jake’s already on edge, his whole body tense as the movie goes on. he hates the suspense more, he thinks. nevertheless, as soon as he looks at you he almost completely forgets about it, mesmerized by how pretty you look right now – just like always. your hair is not covering your face, so he can see all of it – marvel at all of it. but what really catches his attention is the single piece of popcorn you are holding against your lips – that are slightly parted to accommodate it –, probably too lost in the movie’s story to notice you’re still holding it. your eyes are wide and almost puppy-like while looking at the screen and he wonders just how much inner strength he’s using right now to keep himself from kissing you. because, god, you look so kissable and you’re not even doing anything. it’s insufferable. he shakes his head and gets back to watching the movie, trying to get rid of the tension in his body – one that was not really from the thriller’s suspense anymore.

you sense him shifting on the other end of the couch and decide to look over, only to be greeted by a frown and a clenched jaw. he’s not looking at you – must be entranced by the film’s plot and is caught up in stress from wanting it to come to an end, you think –, but he’s looking way too good for your liking. the slight frown in his brows makes you want to soothe it somehow. maybe with a kiss, while you hold his clenched jaw until it’s not there anymore. your eyes snap back to the screen, what are you thinking? 

the rest of the movie is pure torture, for both of you. the tension that fills both your bodies starts to overflow, spilling all over the living room. it’s nearly tangible, really. it forms a dense atmosphere between you, that has nothing to do with the movie and when it is finally over none of you make comments on it – since you both lost the most important parts while exchanging sneaky looks – just whispering goodnight to each other swiftly, before going to bed. once you’re both in your designated rooms, you take a deep breath – may this be the last time you feel so goddamn tempted by him.

DAY 5 - Rock Your Body

as much as you felt like it would never happen again, it did. it’s been 4 days since your movie night and today was supposed to be the day you’d peacefully deep clean your apartment, according to your schedule. but neither you nor jake wanted to face each other, opting to not live the awkward tension all over again. you did it because you didn’t want to even entertain the idea of getting that close to jake ever, he did it because it was all too much for his poor in love heart to handle.

today was hot, to say the least. the blue sky had no clouds to shield you from the sun’s unforgivable brightness and even though you and jake are in the comfort of your home, the white walls of your apartment do nothing to suppress the impending heat that clings into your bodies. you thanked summer for its magical vibes, sure, but not really when you’re trapped at home doing house chores all morning. cleaning your apartment is usually fun since you used the time to just distract your mind from your current problems and just tidy everything up. but it’d be impossible to do it normally, since your major problem of the moment had a first name, last name and lived in the same place as you.

though it would be an annoying task, jake decided to use the day to try and bring his antics to a stop – just for one day – and, as a way to wave a white flag for you, he started by cleaning his own room, and you took the opportunity to clean yours. but as you finished and went for the next spot you both realized that you’d end up together at some point. ignoring that thought, you just kept doing your designated house chores and everything else you needed to, until you both found yourselves in the kitchen. you had already cleaned everything else, the only things missing were the dishes from breakfast and cleaning the counter – both which were completely simple. you took the dishes, while jake was supposed to clean the counter. but he couldn’t concentrate if his life depended on it.

jake freaked out the minute he saw you walk in. why would you choose to wear such revealing clothes today, he couldn’t take his eyes from you – which he tried, because he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. the way your shorts hugged your thighs was a sin itself, but your basically see-through white shirt was what made him fold, the fact that even then his imagination couldn’t possibly feel accurate in the slightest made him weak, he wanted more than just the hint of what’s underneath the fabric. he felt like he needed to do something to leave the losing side – he was feeling like he was falling deeper in a world he wouldn’t survive by himself. so he uses the roasting summer day as an excuse to take his shirt off, wondering why he didn’t do it sooner. the relief was immediate, of course, the sweat that enveloped his skin didn’t have nowhere to stick anymore, and it was a pleasant sensation. but he loved the moment especially because, as soon as he took off his shirt, he heard a cup slide from your hands and hit the sink, softly like you tried really hard to keep it from falling. the smile that adorned his lips was involuntary, but filled with a sense of confidence that extended itself to every other move he made.

you feel all the words that you could possibly say turn into mush at the sight. your mind would be completely empty, if it wasn’t already filled to the brim with thoughts of jake – shirtless, sweaty and fucking hot. he was always handsome, you knew that much, and with his constant work out routine you would imagine that his body was somewhat nicely built, but you fooled yourself into thinking that he’d be average looking. you couldn’t help but stare, completely forgetting your task at hand. why did he take his shirt off? 

you didn’t want him to notice you ogling him so you decided to say something, anything. “ew, jake. put your shirt back on,” was all you could think of, but you didn’t really want him to. the urge to rub your thighs together was getting harder to ignore, so you decided to get back to doing the dishes. jake, on the other hand, was completely amused by your lack of effort in trying to be discreet with your staring, catching you side-eyeing him every five seconds – or maybe, he thought, maybe you just couldn’t help it. the idea of having this kind of effect on you makes him feel like he was responsible for the summer day, the heat spreading on his body and gathering in his abdomen, the sensation just as if he had several butterflies moving in his stomach.

“oh yeah, ‘cause you really want me to cover up, right?” he laughs and turns on his back to resume his own task, but still talking, “pretend all you want, i know that you’d love me walking around shirtless all day.”

“oh my god, you just never know when to shut up, do you?” you say, annoyed that he was pointing it out so matter-of-factly. to remain at least a bit of your composure you decide to put your earphones on and ignore his existence. though, nothing could take you away from the fact that he was you getting all hot and bothered and he was only standing there and looking good – much more than he should, for his own fucking good.

but jake’s unable to let you grasp the peace of mind you crave so much, and decides to throw through the window all thoughts he had earlier about ‘bringing his antics to a stop’, “what are you listening to?” he asks, actually curious. to know what’s your taste in music is to know you better, and he is all for it

“justin timberlake…” you saying, trying to keep your distance. you were already half-way done with your task, doing it as quickly as you could to go to your room. you’re in much need of a shower to cool the fuck down.

“are you serious?” he chuckles, what kind of person listens to JT to clean the house? he doesn’t ask that though, instead he asks, “which song?” pointing to your earphones. “take them off, so i can judge you properly.”

“what makes you think i’m gonna let you talk shit about my music choices?” but you were already taking it off your ears and disconnecting it from your phone – nonchalantly like you weren’t just contracting him –, replaying the song so he could listen to it from the start. your body moving automatically, the desire to please him taking over.

“really? ‘rock your body’?” he shakes his head, but even you could see that he was joking. he loved the song, he had danced to it many times with a drunk jay in their parties. but, instead of dropping the act, he uses it to tease you more, “i would understand if it were ‘mirrors’ or something, but ‘rock your body’ is just a biased choice, really.”

you can’t hold your laughter to save your life. “what the fuck? what does that even mean?” and when you turn to him, you lose it. he had a serious expression on his face and his lips were pressed in a thin line, like it was the most serious topic on the earth. you really don’t know if it is the sum of everything or if he’s just really funny, but your laughter increases. you bend over the sink slightly, trying to find the balance you lost from your cackles. jake tries his best to keep a straight face but then he sees you and gives in, laughing too – it was impossible not to, you looked so chill at the moment he didn’t want to miss it. and it stays like that for what feels like many minutes, you two laughing and trying your hardest to catch your breath – but failing miserably.

once you calm down, a small smile on both your faces and your chest heaving from the lack of oxygen, you resume your tasks. almost forgetting that you were thirsting over each other just moments ago, the silence that falls between you two is comfortable. but jake didn’t want to keep it that way, so he sighs comically and says, “didn’t know it was that easy to have you laughing like that.”

“it’s not easy, you’re just a complete idiot and i can’t help but find it amusing,” you say, chuckling softly.

as he finishes cleaning the counter, which really shouldn't have taken this long, he smirks at you sentence. “oh, so i amuse you, huh?” his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. 

you had just finished the dishes as well and were drying your hands in the dishtowel, but the moment you heard his words you threw it at jake’s direction with no second thought. he catches it effortlessly and starts to walk in your direction. “you should really learn when to be quiet…” you say, and you meant it to be harsh, but your voice is wavering. his tall and broad frame was closer than you were used to and the fact that he was still shirtless wasn’t helping your situation at all. suddenly, you were hyperconscious of the extremely hot day and how it made you body warm – and possibly his too, and you wanted very much to know just how much –, the way lips parted as he looked at you, the way he towered over you and the way his eyes seemed darker now, up close – the way his chest stuttered when he finally trapped you in your position, leaning in the sink counter.

“you always say that, but i never see you make any effort to shut me up,” he says, but his voice is low, like he’s sharing a secret – a dark and seductive one. “isn’t that what you want, princess? to shut me up?”

your heart is racing, but your mind is rather calm. even though you want to deny it, you know what he was hinting at, and you want it. you crave it. “yes…” you say, voice just like a whisper, a plea.

“yeah?” he says, and closes the distance between you, clearly affected by your small, but important, confession. his warm body – warmer than yours, you notice – presses into yours ever so slightly, like he didn’t want to startle you – like you were in a dream and neither of you wanted to wake up. his right hand moved to cup your cheek, holding your face with all the worship he has ever known in life, eyes filled – overflowing – with yearning. “you can do it, baby. ”

but he wasn’t proposing, it wasn’t a suggestion. he was encouraging you to do it – egging you to go ahead and fucking kiss him, challenging you to give in. your pout comes involuntarily, the movement small but attracting his eyes to your lips – your pretty and really fucking temptable lips. knowing you can’t refuse it – knowing you don’t want to –, you tilt your head up. his reply comes immediately, coming down to brush your lips together eagerly. your voice can barely be called a whisper when you speak, “shit, jake… you know i want to.”

the way his name leaves your lips so beautifully – so appealing – makes his knees buckle. he suppresses a moan, mind going overdrive at the fact you just so openly confessed your wish – because he knew what it meant, how much it meant. then his left hand pulls you closer by your waist, as he does it he swears you can listen to the way his heart beats desperately in his chest. and you are so engrossed in the moment, so wrapped up in the suffocating tension between you that when your phone buzzes and starts ringing on the counter next to you, you both jolt. the sound sharp, cutting through whatever you two were just sharing and it takes you a moment to come to your senses.

picking your phone up, you hardly have the strength to talk, but you voice it regardless, “it’s jay…” and jake only nods, saving all words of disappointment for when he gets his turn to talk to jay, privately. you pick the video call up and wait for jay to greet you, not bothering to go to your room. jake barely moves an inch, he wants to know if you’ll try to push him away once jay sees you two. oddly enough, you don’t do it.

“hey! how’re you doing? is that jake next to you? great, i wanted to talk with you both! have you had lunch yet?” jay’s voice sounds like a rap song. he was so excited to talk to you after four whole days of not listening to your voice.

and as the conversation goes on and both you and jake catch up with a very observant jay, you come to terms that maybe – just maybe – you were eager for the next opportunity you’d get to have jake so close – maybe to finally kiss him, even if you’re interrupted.

DAY 11 - Baby Blue Movie

you didn't think this day would come, but you couldn't wait to get home. ever since the day you almost kissed jake, you decided to go out more – alone preferably. but not even then you could escape him completely. sometimes he was a better company than people you were related to. after spending an afternoon at your mother's house, your energy was completely drained. sure, you loved your family, but you can't ignore disrespect. your mother's childhood was completely different from yours and it's obvious that it would have repercussions in your adulthood, considering that she always voiced that she knew – within maternal standards – what was best for you. and it gets tiring, you lost count of how many times you tried to make her understand your point of view and now you just ignored her complaints – usually successfully, but today it unfortunately didn’t happen.

as you unlock the door, you pray that jake isn't in his playful mode. it would be extremely hard to deal with it today, but when you enter the house and take off your shoes, you can't fool yourself. he was already leaning against the wall that separated the entrance of the house from the living room, a tiny smile on his face and a sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue. you mentally prepare yourself not to explode at him. after all, he wasn't to blame for anything – he couldn’t possibly be aware of the horrible day you just had. you don’t even greet him as you try to make your way to your room. but he doesn’t move an inch. with lack of something else in mind, you stop in front of him, waiting for him to say whatever lame joke he thought, already thinking of a possible retort. the whole time he watches you – your pretty face contorted in a serious expression he's not usually used to – he thinks that, maybe, you’re mad at him, but he can’t think of something he could have done to make you angry like that. he doesn’t want to overthink anything, so he decides to break the silence. "did… something happen?" voice silent, soothing, like you would bleed if he sounded hostile – or even indifferent, actually. 

and, god, you wanted to yell at him. scream with all the pent up stress you endured all day, because how dare he speak to you like that? like you are fragile, like you need to be taken care of – like he needs to take care of you. the thought of being the object of his tenderness infuriates you. to be seem like you lack affection to the point you’d accept his nice words and gentle eyes. because you would never do that, no. you wouldn’t just give in because he was being kind to you for the first time since you met. but, god, did you want to. with jay’s absence you had no one else – which was kind of depressing, but you didn’t really mind – and with jake’s constant attempts in making you open up to him, it got increasingly harder to not let your guard down. because god knows how hard you’ve been trying to keep your distance, but after today’s stressful events you just wanted some sort of display of affection – something to remind you that you matter and that you are deserving of love just like anyone else is – and the fact that you received it with no second thought apparent from jake made you weak. it made you want to fight him to remain some sort of composure but also apologize for ever misjudging him – apologize for thinking he wouldn’t comfort you at all. but you didn’t do either of those. instead, you look down at your feet taking a deep, shaky breath, murmuring an almost inaudible “yeah… it did, actually.”

nothing could have prepared him for that. he genuinely thought you would brush him off and go to your room. he could have even been fine if a mean, snarky remark came out of your mouth, like it usually happens. but, you didn’t – why didn’t you? why would you answer him honestly and looking so goddamn helpless, like you were in much need of a hug. and for a second, that was precisely what he went to do. however, giving in to those impulses felt like overstepping a boundary, and that was the last thing he wanted to do, especially now that you were letting him see you vulnerable – even if it’s barely. so he tried to not look so terrified of this new territory and went with what felt most secure, wanting to reassure you somehow. “do you want to talk about it?” his voice is casual and steady, like it happens every week and he can perfectly deal with it – except it doesn’t and he can’t, the thought of you allowing him any close to you emotionally makes him dizzy, eager and feeling rather protective.

“shit…” you chuckle inevitably. he was supposed to drop the subject and yet here he is, still trying to get to you. but you try to keep yourself grounded, all your anger and stress has dissipated into pure sadness so far, if he pushes any further you’ll cry. and as you look for a way to put out what is going on in your mind, he wonders what had happened, considering he never saw you like that before. he was ready to hunt down to the gates of hell whoever dragged you to that state. “uh, no,” you sigh. “actually, it would be– yeah. well– ” you stumble over words, another frustrated sigh leaves your mouth and your hands come to face, hiding the obvious emotion written all over it. when you look back at him your eyes are already teary, your hands shake a little as you bring them down, your lips wobbly. you manage to let out a broken “i don’t know, jake…” but by the time you sniffle, about to let your tears stream down your face, jake is right on you. 

his left arm circling your middle pulling you towards him, his right hand on the back of your head tucking your face in his chest and, as he tightly hugs you for a few seconds, he keeps on saying “it’s fine, okay? it doesn’t matter, princess.” so lovingly, it does the job of distracting you from your little meltdown. you notice the way the hug feels so intimate, like it was a forbidden thing to do and you two created a bubble to hide from the world and savour the moment. and it made sense you felt that way, because jake was actually hugging you right now. and you were crying. you were crying in front of jake sim – being comforted by him – and you didn’t care at all. actually, now that you have done all the things you said you weren’t going to, what’s another one, right? that’s what’s in your mind as your arms come to his waist, not to push him away but to further drown yourself in his embrace, taking in his scent. 

and as you two stand there, the dream-like golden beams of light due to the sunset passing through the curtain’s delicate material, your arms around him so willingly and your crying coming down to a halt, jake doesn’t think he could be more content. his heart hurting in his chest knowing that you’re not okay, but also beating as fast as ever before since you’re right there. just so, so close to him, in a way he never thought you'd allow him to. and then he laughs, just a bit, but he can’t help it. and you laugh too, wholeheartedly. because you cannot deny yourself the fact that you too felt content, even though you’re crying and he’s doing that just for the sake of comforting you. but that's precisely what makes it so important – is his effort in doing so the best way he can.

DAY 18 - WA-R-R

you woke up feeling great. it has been so nice to actually have a full break from college, you have time to do all the things you like without worrying about anything. well, almost anything. it’s been a week since the crying incident happened and you two never brought it up again. jake was okay with it. he thought you didn’t want to talk about any of it, since once you felt lighter you just quietly apologized for crying on him like you did and went to your room. but you didn’t know that, and you were starting to feel like a burden. you needed to properly thank him for comforting you, but you had no idea how.

it was currently a quarter past three in the afternoon and you were boiling on your couch from the heat. jake had left for the gym right after lunch and you had nothing to do, beginning to feel unsettled from the boredom. deciding on doing something productive, you take a shower and get dressed to go to the supermarket. you were out of a few things and it would be nice to leave the house and enjoy the weather, despite the fact that you’d much rather go to the beach. once ready, you go to the kitchen to check if you weren’t forgetting anything so you could add to the list, that’s when you hear the front door opening. jake walks in just a few seconds later, eyes roaming over your figure as he immediately catches the scent of your favorite perfume – are you going somewhere? 

his black fit – sleeveless compression shirt and loose dri-fit shorts – knocked the air out of your lungs, but you didn’t have time for that. “i’m going grocery shopping, do you want something?” you ask, pretending to still check the cupboards.

“yeah, actually. but i think it’s best if i go with you…” he says casually, like he wasn’t dying to have a domestic day with you – going to the market, choosing what you’re going to do for dinner, helping you carry the grocery bags. “you know…? so you won’t buy anything wrong.”

you scoff, turning to look at him. “you’re projecting, you know i wouldn’t mistake your protein bars or whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes and propping yourself on the counter. you glance at him for a moment, taking in his appearance. faking a mix of disgust and judgment on your face, you point towards his clothes. “are you going like that?”

he checks himself, like he didn’t know what could be wrong with his outfit, and with a confused look on his face he says, “well, yes. why wouldn’t i?”

you arch your brows mockingly, shrugging. “i don’t know. you tell me, jake,” and then you chuckle from your teasing.

he rolls his eyes, feeling dumb for not realizing sooner that you were just messing with him – like always. “you’re so annoying, what the hell…” he murmurs, suppressing an amused laugh and completes, “come on, let’s go in my car.”

his car smelled like him, the woody perfume he would usually wear was everywhere – you failed to notice that the first time you rode with him. as you put the seatbelt on and he starts the car, he says “do you want to put some music on?” giving you his phone and driving off your apartment’s garage.

“sure, what do you wanna listen to?” you ask, rolling through his playlist. the ride to the store was actually short, but a little music is always nice to have. 

“whatever, you can press play on random,” he answers, eyes locked on the streets ahead. just as he finished speaking, he heard the soft beat of a korean r&b melody starting to play very lowly. he went to turn up the volume, only for his hand to bump into yours – you were going to turn the volume up a bit as well, after resting his phone on your thighs. 

a beat of awkward silence passes by and you two sneak a glance between each other. after laughing a bit embarrassed you softly say, “sorry, i was just gonna turn it up a bit.” moving your hand back to your lap.

he chuckles, without really knowing what to do he turns the volume up himself, saying “no, it’s okay. i was going to do the same.”

the song takes over the silence, its nicely tuned vocals filling the space, and you can’t help but share, “i love this song…” your voice is peaceful as you speak.

jake loves the comment, loves that you’re the one starting the small talk. “really? i thought you were more of a 2000s pop type of girl…” he says, bringing back that fact that you were listening to justin timberlake a few days ago.

you smile, “yeah, that too. but there’s nothing quite like korean r&b,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. and it felt so nice to be comfortable around him, to talk like you do with jay – like you’ve known him for years.

“i mean, you’re right. but i’m suspicious, i was born in korea, so…” he trails off, and as you two feed the conversation more and more with small details of your life, he can only thank his complete genius idea of following you everywhere – it in fact did pay off, eventually.

when you get to the supermarket, the whole shopping process is actually very quick, you buy the essentials and all the things that were in your list, jake buys a lot of barley tea bottles and you two decide that italian food was the best option for dinner today, so you buy everything you need to make pasta – you also have to decide which bottle of wine you were going to buy and that itself takes most of your time, both finding joy in fake disagreeing with each other. after getting to the checkout and paying for your purchases, you and jake walk back to the car and settle everything to ride back home. 

once at home you ask jake to put some music on the TV so you could unpack the groceries and start cooking dinner. surprised that you were offering to make dinner – knowing that usually he’s the one to make dinner and you make lunch – he asks, “why are you so willing saying that you’re gonna make our dinner today?” his voice accusing and wary, like you about to prank him. approaching you after putting on the same playlist that was playing in the car, he starts to help you unpack the grocery bags that were scattered on the counter. 

“can’t a girl feel like cooking twice in a day?” you say, purely to tease him, because after letting out a little laugh you add up almost instantly, “i just wanted to, i don’t know, thank you for being so nice to me the other day.”

“the other day? which day?” he was confused, it was pretty visible by his frown and inquiring voice.

you sigh, not wanting to extend the subject, but clarifying anyway, mumbling “the day that i cried in front of you…”

his realization comes quickly, a soft “ah!” leaving his lips. nevertheless, he didn’t want you to think that it was anything other than the bare minimum – you didn’t have to make him a meal just because you felt like you needed to pay him back. both of you knew that he had no second intentions when he comforted you. “you know, you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“i know, i know. but i really want to,” you say, voice steady like you practiced the speech all week – which you did, but that was nothing but a small detail, he didn’t have to know. “i want to show that i’m grateful somehow, so just let me.”

he just nods, pleased that your communication was improving. dinner time was really nice, you two shared a bottle of wine, talked a lot about how your music taste was actually similar and how cooking can be a fun activity once you grow comfortable with it – you were both kind of tipsy at that point.

as he helps you tidy up the kitchen, he cherished the evening you had. it was nice to know that you started to share a bond now, even if you still tried to keep your distance somehow. “thanks, for the dinner,” he says, cheeks flushed both from the alcohol and from the way you were so close to him, drying the dishes as he washed them.

you hummed, feeling sleepy from the alcohol and tired from the day. you lay your head on his shoulder – as much as you can with the height difference – and answer, “it was nice, right? we should do it again some day.”

jake can only laugh as he shakes his head – you were just too cute. “yeah… we should.”

DAY 23 - Let Go

you couldn’t be happier, today was finally the day you were going to the beach. as you got your things ready, you talked to jake about how dumb it was for you to have delayed this for so many days. jake has the idea of making some snacks and you help him do everything. throughout all the time that it takes for you and jake to make sandwiches and pack your beach bag and his backpack with everything you were going to need, you were talking nonstop. it was inevitable with the way you started to get along the past few days since your dinner together, honestly. you were also much more at ease in his presence, so you started to share a few more wholesome moments. still, he judges your choices for two piece bikinis and you say it was best if he didn’t take his shirt off – to save people’s sanity – and you fight over which snacks you were going to take in your little trip. it was all really fun, you could never try to deny that. once everything was ready, you two got ready to go.

the ride to the beach was rather calm. the music in the background was soothing and the beach you chose to go to wasn't far from your place, so jake drove you there and in less than an hour you were in the sand, sitting on your beach mat. the day was summery just like the others that have passed, only this time you could sunbathe and swim – a perfect day, you would say. jake was sitting by your side, watching you put on sunscreen – admiring you, that was more like it.

when you’re done, he points towards the sunscreen bottle on your hand and doesn't think twice before asking, “can you do my face and back?” he watches your concentrated face, but it doesn't change a bit, you stay expressionless. he tries again, “please…?”

you grimace, and move to sit face to face with him. “what? you can’t do it?” you ask, but it’s not really a criticism.

he laughs, and flicks your forehead. “of course i can, you brat. it’s just better if you do it,” he says, like it’s so obvious and you fake a look of disgust. he adds, “i can’t miss a chance to have your hands all over me, baby,” and winks.

you roll your eyes, but start to apply some sunscreen on his face, answering, “shut up and close your eyes, loverboy.” you use the moment to take in his appearance, closed eyes and parted lips from his talking. he was always so beautiful for you, you wished you could let him know in a way that didn’t felt like you were putting your heart in his hands – which was impossible, because that was the only kind of fondness you knew with him, devotion.

he does what you tell him, closing his eyes, but he keeps on talking – a smile on his face all throughout it. “you can’t push me away, princess. i know how your mind works by now,” his voice filled with enjoyment.

“yeah, yeah. i know, jake, you say that everyday,” you reply, but you're smiling too. finding joy in his words, but oblivious to how evident his feelings were. “okay, face done. now i’m gonna put it on your back, turn around for me, please.”

he turns around, his eyes glinting with unmistakable affection from your disponibility to do it for him – the way you ask him ‘please’ sticks to his mind a little more than it's considered healthy. once you’re done he gets up on his feet and holds your hand. “come on, we’re going in the sea.”

“woah there, loverboy. i know you need me to do everything with you, but at least wait until the sunscreen soaks in.” you say, and use the fact that he was still holding your hand to push him down to sit by your side once again.

he complies, his thigh brushing against your as he settles down next to you. you both take in the view. the sea is rather calm, the waves seem to crash slowly. the sun is unforgiving, but in a pleasant way, and the eventual breeze that hits your bodies is a nice way to recover from the heat. you don’t realize that you’re still holding hands, but jake is very aware of the act. so much so he fights the urge to stroke his thumb along your hand, so that you won’t grow annoyed from his display of affection. it’s not until an old lady passes by, selling handmade bracelets, that you notice just how close you guys are to each other.

the woman stops by you two and asks, very fondly, “oh, hello, young man. would you want to buy a bracelet for your girlfriend?” she’s pointing at you, and oddly enough you don’t feel like correcting her. in fact, you don’t say anything, you just smile at the lady and turn to look at jake, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“oh, yes! do you have matching ones?” he asks her, paying you no attention. his response comes immediately, and you’re caught off guard at just how natural it came to him – like you were actually boyfriend and girlfriend, like it wasn’t even a thing to consider in the first place.

they get into a conversation about her process of making the bracelets and how much they cost, eventually he buys two – only then he lets go of hand, because he needed to pay the old woman – and she thanks your attention as both of you wave her goodbye.

your head snaps in his direction. giving him a quizzed look, you don’t even have to say anything for him to speak, “look, it wasn’t going to change anything in her life if we said we weren’t together. if anything we’d just make her ashamed of her mistake…” his voice is quiet, like you’d argue with him for what he did. 

but you don’t. in fact, you just say, “i’m surprised by how easily you played along, but i’m not gonna kill you. relax,” you’re chuckling, and you add “i didn’t get to see which ones you bought…”

he stares at you, dumbfounded. “what?” he asks, wondering if he heard you wrong. were you just letting that slide? like he just didn’t pretend you were his girlfriend to a total stranger? weren’t you the one who refused to let him close? “did you enjoy being my girlfriend, is that it?” he teases, but he’s not joking. he actually wants to know this time, he needs the rest it’ll provide him.

you cough, choking a bit. what should you do? did you enjoy it? you’re not sure, but for some reason you didn’t want him to think you didn’t. not only because upsetting him felt so mean of you, but because you realized that you weren’t opposed to the idea of dating him. “god, don’t make it weird and let me see the bracelets…” you say, changing the subject. but decided to mumble in addition,  “if i didn’t say anything, it means that i didn’t mind.”

he smiles, and it outshines the sun. jake wasn’t one to be pessimistic, but he often opted for a more realistic approach when it came to you, so to see you opening up like that – letting him genuinely see you and understand you – made his body shiver with anticipation of what you’d share next. he senses your will to not deep dive into the matter so he gives into your wishes to see the bracelets. “here, give me your hand so i can put it on you…” he says, but he can barely control his excitement. he ties the bracelet in your wrist and asks for you to do the same for him, both of you admiring the colorful object that now was a reminder of a thing only you two shared. you fall into a nice, comfortable silence. the unspoken feelings surrounding you but not in a scary way, the sounds of the waves crashing doing nothing to drown your rapid heartbeats. in moments like these you question just how much you should try to keep jake away, only for you to choose not to do it at all – you were just letting it flow, it would pain you more to pretend you didn’t like what was growing between you. 

and that’s just how the day goes. you swim in the sea and share your snacks, it truly feels like a beach episode from your favorite anime. once you get back home, the tiredness from the long day – even though it was fun and uplifting – sinks in. after you and jake have straightened things up and showered, you both decide to settle on the couch.

you were hardly registering the movie that was playing on the screen. jake had his hand on your head, fingers mindlessly scratching your scalp, a loving gesture that only pushed you closer to sleep. as you started to drift off, your head found its way to jake’s shoulder, face hiding on his neck. jake gasped at the proximity, but after a few seconds he adjusted you on his body, hugging your waist. before either of you could realize, the two of you had already fallen asleep.

DAY 35 - All Mine

when jake wakes up, he’s a mess. he feels his hair sticking on his forehead due to his sweat. his legs feel shaky, his boxers sticky and his heart is hammering in his ribcage. it takes him a few moments to realize that he’s laying in his bed, having fallen asleep with you the night before while you two played cards late at night. the next thing he realizes is that you’re no longer with him. he checks his phone, it’s half past eight in the morning. he slumps back on the mattress, right hand coming down to palm the evident erection on his sleeping shorts, cock still hard despite the fact that he had clearly cummed during his sleep. he had woken up from a very messy, very erotic dream, his breath was calming down as he took in his surroundings, but his mind was still in a haze from the vivid memories from his dream – where you and him did all the things he craved to do to you. his right hand’s grip tightens around his clothed girth, his arousal growing while he feeds his imagination, thinking just how cute you’d look with your eyes tight such and your mouth hanging open as your lips let out the most beautiful sounds of his name, while he’s buried inside–.

he sits up, instantly. he couldn’t act like he lived alone, and even though he very much wanted to get off right now, he wouldn’t want to have you walk in on him – well, he wouldn’t mind if he felt like you would be okay with it, but he couldn’t know if that was the case. the past few days were wonderful, he loved every second of it. you and him were growing closer and closer, to the point you did everything together. after the day you spent on the beach, both of you decided to start hanging out more often. you did all sorts of things – you even did go back to the beach, going to a drive-in that was happening nearby – and it was starting to get hard to avoid the inevitable. jake was beginning to break, the time you’ve been spending together only further pushing him to his darkest, most lust-filled thoughts. he wondered if you felt the same, or if he was just another homie to you. if you want him the way he wants you it shouldn’t be hard to notice, right? he thinks that he should pay more attention to your body language, to see if you give him any opening to tumble over the edge of the hanging tension. but then he wonders, where are you anyway? intrigued, he leaves his room to look for you, only to find an empty house. you weren’t anywhere to be found, neither in the kitchen nor in your room. he sits on the couch, and as he was about to text you to know your whereabouts he hears the clicking of the keys on the front door. he sits back, checking his bulge briefly – that had subsided considerably – and waits for you to show up, fingers interlaced, his hands resting on his lap.

you had woken up pretty early and decided to buy strawberry cheesecake for breakfast at a bakery nearby and some coffee at your favorite coffee shop, choosing to not text jake because you thought you’d be back before he woke up – which clearly did not happen. when you see him sitting on the couch you stop, standing comically – awkwardly – at the hall that separates the living room from the kitchen.

“hi, you’re up,” you state, looking at him – eyes roaming over his figure, he seemed sus. not waiting for his answer you turn left, walking towards the kitchen counter to settle what you bought for breakfast.

jake is hot on your tail, replying, “where have you been, huh?” his tone is playful, but you can tell he’s actually curious to know.

“uh… i don’t see how it concerns you?” you answer, teasingly. your smile the most genuine it could ever be, since jake with his ‘recently woken up’ look was the cutest. then you add, “i bought coffee, and cheesecake.”

“oh god, yes! love me some sweets in the morning,” he says, settling down at the counter while eyeing your figure – the fabric of your jeans shorts seemingly sinfully pretty around your thighs, your baby blue crop top making him want to ogle your breasts. were you always this hot? “uh, thanks for bringing coffee for me too…”

“don’t mention it,” you say, at last. sitting down on his side you two start to eat, then you remember something. “hey, how did you sleep? i woke up in the middle of the night and went to my room. sorry, if i woke you.”

jake feels relief wash over his entire figure to know you weren’t there if he made any suggestive sounds during his sleep. “actually, i’m a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake me like that,” he answers and after pausing for a few seconds he finishes, “i slept ok, without crazy dreams or whatever.”

you laugh, his words seeming rushed for you and oddly explanatory, which was out of character of him – especially since he was so slow in the mornings. was he nervous? “ok, jake. if you say so…” you say, just for the sake of getting on his nerves – and maybe to get him to say something about what really happened.

“yah! what are you suggesting? i slept like a baby, ok? with baby dreams…” he states, defensively. and you laugh harder, your hand coming to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle at least some of it – which didn’t happen.

in between your gasps for air, you say, “oh, so you dreamed of unicorns and princesses then.” your teasing sentence only half well delivered, since you were still trying to recover from your fit of laughter.

jake’s mind was racing while he nervously tried to change the subject. however, in between his thoughts of his not exactly baby-like dream, he lets out the first thing that comes to his mind, “if you’d call yourself princess, then i guess you could say that, yeah…” he says, his voice sounding playful. you stall, confusion written all over your face.

“wait, does that mean you- did you dream about me?” you ask, incredulous. you brows coming together to emphasize the chaos that was your mind at his statement. he laughs, shaking his head, truly amazed at how easily he gave himself in. knowing that there was no denying what he said just now, he only nods, taking yet another slice of the cheesecake you were sharing. but you had long forgotten how to eat, in fact you don’t think you can do anything else at the moment. 

letting your curiosity speak louder you decide to try your luck. “what… did you dream about?” you ask, voice small despite its certainty. you decide to not look at him, eyeing the plate in front of you as he ate the last piece of the cheesecake. you take a sip of your coffee.

“you, duh,” he says matter-of-factly, and laughs like you weren’t dying from not knowing. “why do you want to know, anyway? does it matter that much, princess?” his tongue brushes the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress the smirk threatening to take place in his lips. the situation’s much more entertaining than he initially thought it would be. 

“oh my god, you’re so annoying,” you huff and get up, making your way to the sink to wash the dishes you just used. he stares at you, amused at the tantrum your throwing over something he thought you’d just brush off, probably just making a comment about how in love he’s in with you – jokingly, of course.

“okay, okay. i’ll tell you, alright?” he says, bringing his hands up as if surrendering to you. you stop what you’re doing just to turn your head to him slightly. you eye him, an unreadable expression in your face and he chuckles a bit – he really does like you. at last, he says “i dreamed i got hurt in a zombie apocalypse and you left me behind…” his voice is obviously playful, but you fail to realize he was being ironic.

so you only sigh, your lips forming an involuntary pout as you hummed in acknowledgement, turning back to dry your hands after you finished your task. his answer breaks your expectations, leaving you confused as to why you thought he’d say something else – why you wanted him to say something else. maybe it was the way he was staring at you since you arrived, or the way he seemed so nervous talking about his dream, you thought maybe it meant he saw you in a way that wasn’t just ‘his roommate’. but, maybe it was all in your head anyways.

he comes behind, not touching you whatsoever, his hands finding their place at the counter in front of you the same time you finish your task – and he realizes he’s feeling oddly familiar with the situation, like a deja vu. he whispers then, voice seductive and full of intentions, “did you want me to say that i had a erotic dream?” his question catches you off guard, you use your now free hands to support yourself at the edge of the sink. you head falls to your shoulder, eyes closing as a sigh passes your lips. fuck, why is he dirty talking to you all of sudden? why do you like it? you decide that all your doubts and worries are for the future you to deal with, right now you just want to know how far this can go. still, you can help the nervousness that gets a hold of your demeanor. shaking your head, you start, “n-no, that’s not it, why would you–”

but jake was not having it. he cuts you off mid-sentence, face coming closer to your ear, lips brushing over it ever so slightly while he whispers lowly – as if you were in a room filled with people and he only wanted you to hear –, “are you really going to lie to me like that, baby?” and just like that you’re speechless, but that doesn’t matter one bit, because jake keeps on talking, “i dreamed you were underneath me doing all sort of cute noises while i fucked you on my bed. is that what you expected me to say? or was that pout on your pretty lips for another reason, princess?”

“w-what…?” you utter, confused. he’s getting to you too damn fast for your liking – your panties growing damp at the thought of him having a wet dream about you. you speak your mind, “what the fuck, jake? how can you say things like that…”

“like what? so directly? you know i’m not one to play games, princess,” he says and uses the little switch of topic to spin you around. his hands find your waist to urge you to face him and you comply, but you don’t look into his eyes yet, embarrassment having a tight grip around you. so his right hand comes to your face and you barely feel his fingers as he tilts your chin up softly, bringing you to face him so he can lock eyes with you, his hand falling to your waist a second after. his gaze is intense, filled with emotion – one you’re yet to allow yourself to admit aloud you reciprocate. the silence starts to grow bothersome so you decide to voice your thoughts once again, not really expecting this moment to turn into a heart to heart conversation – but honestly, you love that jake provides this for you.

“i know. but, you’re making me nervous,” you confide in a mumble, fidgeting fingers on your back but you don’t break eye contact – your puppy eyes fucking jake’s mind up. he knows what you mean, you’ve talked about this before. you’re not one to let people in, so to have him so casually stripping you out of your comfort zone can be really stressing – it doesn’t mean you don’t want him to, though.

jake cuckles, he does think you’re adorable from time to time – everyday – and he’s determined to make you comfortable with what you want – well, that being him – so he makes a point of saying, “that’s cute, princess. you’re only nervous because you keep refraining yourself from doing what you want…” he says, almost melodically. “and i know very well that you want me.”

there’s a knowing glint in his eyes and you know he knows, that’s what your relationship was always about – he’s been obvious about his desires, you were the one who poorly attempted to deny it. so you sigh defeated, as you watch his pretty eyes and easy smile. you touch his arms, hands traveling up to his cheeks where you leave a soft squeeze with your palms, squishing them together. you both let out a giggle, then your fingers intertwin on his nape, your body closing the distance between you and him. 

jake is not surprised that you took the initiative, but he couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. his heart is beating unforgivingly in his chest, it aches the best kind of pain and he lets out a sound of relief, pleasure and pure fulfillment. his hands grips your waist harder trying to ground himself, but nothing is enough – he is losing all self control and he couldn’t care less. because your hands were on his neck, nails scratching lovingly the back of his head, your chest pressed on his and your lips passionately kissing him – having you on his hands for him to touch and hold was messing with his head. the kiss that takes place is outstanding, it makes both you and him breathless way too quickly. you pull away first, your teeth prodding your bottom lip for a moment before jake is on you again.

this kiss is much more devastating than the first one, when your tongues meet you can hardly contain the whine that tries to leave your lips, but maybe it’s the way jake shoves you against the counter behind you that knocks the air out of your lungs. none of you know how long you stay making out, your fingers interlace on jake’s locks and he anticipates the moment you will pull it, but you don’t. he grows impatient, hands sliding from your waist to your hips, where he squeezes hard, then he pushes himself from you, interrupting the kiss in the middle. you’re panting, chest heaving and lips red and swollen from the kissing, the sight making heat spread all over his body and his arousal only increases, the bulge on his pants begging to be simulated and he wonders how affected you are by all of this. despite the hot feeling of your hasty breath, nothing really gives away your inner state. and you try to keep it that way, but your mind is foggy and you can barely form coherent thoughts aside from the burning lust, that’s all you can discern. you thought you could be stronger when it came to your sexual desires, but jake fucks up all your attempts in keeping a composed attitude. because you wanted nothing more than to let go and be led, to allow him to do whatever he wanted to. that’s how much you trusted him, how much you craved him.

you’re so lost in your submissive reverie that you fail to realize that jake actually said something. it isn’t until his hands cups your cheeks that your attention turns to him.

“hm…?” you hum and it’s supposed to be a question, but you can really say something else. he understands, though, slowly catching on to what your behaviour meant. 

testing the waters, he asks “do you want to go upstairs, baby?” softly, trying not to sound like you had to. you nod, eagerly so, making him smile, tilting his head to the side. “you’re much too quiet, princess,” he says, his smile fading to a smirk as continued, “go on, use your words.”

the way he says it is borderline condescending. the patronizing superiority twists your insides and your heart rate speeds up, a familiar feeling making its way to your stomach like butterflies. you curse every cell in your body for being so responsive. you focus on the fact that it’s a simple question, one he already knows the answer to. “yes…” you voice out, not without stuttering and jake is amazed. 

he pushes further, wanting to strip every layer of this newfound trait of yours. “huh? yes what, princess?” and it’s a trap, because he’s not expecting anything specific, you may or may not know what to answer, it doesn’t matter because jake is doing it with the sole purpose of teasing you.

but you don’t know that, and even if everything in you is telling you to address him with a respectful honorific, you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning that so easily, so you do what’s best, you play innocent. “yes, i wanna go upstairs,” your voice sounding much more controlled and with barely any sides of your emerging submissiveness.

jake laughs at your answer, eyes scanning you with unmistaken amusement. he shakes his head, grabbing your hand as he speaks, “you’re impossible.”

he uses your intertwined fingers to pull you with him, all the way until you’re passing through his bedroom door. once inside, he sits on the end of his bed, hands coming to your hips as he looks up at you. that’s when everything sinks in. nothing could’ve prepared you for the devastating reality that you’re a moment away from letting jake undress you – letting him fuck you. his alluring presence drowns your senses, you want nothing else than to please him. 

he sees it in your eyes, so he feels obligated to act on it. “come sit, princess,” he says and pulls you to his lap. you fall right after, thighs finding their place on his sides as your hands touch his chest. “you’re so pretty,” his hands are caressing your waist under the fabric of your shirt. “so, so pretty,” he adds, placing kisses on your cheeks, and then your neck. “makes me want to ruin you all the time,” he pulls you even closer, the motion making your hips collide with his. his dick impossibly hard underneath you, you fists his shirt at the feeling. he started to leave hickeys on your skin, his path well marked as he love bites his way to the valley of your breasts. you can feel the smirk on his lips as he trails kisses on your skin, but you are engrossed in the intoxicating feeling of his hands traveling up your body. when you realize, he’s already taking your top off, eyes shamelessly falling to your naked torso. “you always leave the house without a bra on?” he asks, not really accusing you of anything, his hands instantly coming to grope them, thumbs tenderly flicking your nipples and your response is almost embarrassingly quick. you’re taken by surprise, a soft moan slips past your lips and your hips grind on him. he appreciates the sound, his dick twitching in his sleeping shorts as he squeezes your boobs harder. 

you answer him, voice coming weaker than you expected as you speak, “no… not really.” you have your hands sliding under his shirt, pulling the fabric with you as you feel the warm skin of his chest on your palms, you want to see him too. “can you… take your shirt off too?”

“look at you, being so well mannered…” he says and you roll your eyes, his praise makes your panties grow wetter by the minute. he keeps talking though, making no move to remove his shirt just yet. “although, i think that there’s one word missing, princess…”

you understand him immediately, the words coming out easily, “please…? can you take your shirt off, please?” you rephrase, and jake’s mind goes over drive. he already wants you begging for him.

is almost funny, to know that you two are living the moment he has been anticipating ever since he was first trapped with you in that bathroom in a random college party. he’s lightheaded from the unceasing sensations he experiences with you and his smile is the perfect display of it, breathtaking and contagious. he lifts his arms for you to finish taking the shirt off his torso, you drop it on the floor. his hands settle back on you, falling on your thighs with a smack on which one, as he gets back to trailing kisses down your neck, until his tongue envelops your nipple. he’s still smiling when you moan from the sudden stimulation, but he moans with you after you grind down on him at a specific hard bite he delivers. “you’re into pain or something?” he asks you, moving to your other boob, teeth grazing the skin before he bites it, softer than he wanted, just to test his theory.

you right hand tangles in his hair, fingers gripping the locks but not really pulling at it – which he really wants you to –, your left hand splayed on his chest, nails threatening to dig on his skin. he laughs in disbelief, biting harder – not enough to leave a mark, yet –  and your hips move involuntarily on his, humping his throbbing dick, desperate for a real form of stimulation between your legs. “oh god, you are into it.” he states, and delivers another slap on your thigh.

you bite your lip, and say “you do realize how sadistic this makes you look, right?” in defiance, but your affected tone makes no effect whatsoever. 

his answer is instant, “and you do realize how much of a masochist i think you are now, right?” his mocking tone getting to your and further wetting your panties, that must be completely destroyed by now. he continues his assault in your chest, that already has some red and purple marks blooming here and there.

“i-i’m not…” you start, both hips and voice stuttering from his movements, the fabric of your jeans starting to make you uncomfortable as you rub yourself harder on his erection, jake’s hands groping your skin from the stimulation, the rhythm of your movements torturously slow for his liking. “i’m not a masochist,” you manage to say, and jake laughs from your little act. 

“no, just a painslut...” he says, and your muffled whine is enough of an answer for him. “but don’t worry, baby. you make such a pretty slut for me.”

“fuck…” is all you can mumble, pussy clenching around nothing as you keep grinding on his bulge, dry humping him for all your worth. but jake had enough of that, he wants more – he needs more. so he grabs one of your thighs’ underside with one hand, the other going to your waist as he moves you on the bed. in a second you're laying on your back on the mattress, but you don’t have time to be surprised. jake touches your knee in an attempt to get you to open your legs and you comply, slowly moving them apart to accommodate his hips.

his hands travel to undo the button of your shorts, fingers pulling the zipper down all the way but he doesn’t slide the fabric off your legs. instead, he stuffs his hand inside of it, fingers gliding over your dripping wet slit. “shit, you’re fucking soaked, princess…” he almost growls, forehead resting on your shoulder. “want to fuck you till we pass out,” it’s just a harmless confession, one he doesn’t truly mean, but you don’t care.

“so do it,” you sound desperate, his index and middle finger teasing your entrance while his thumb presses on your clit. he wasn’t moving, and it was driving you insane. you thrust your hips forward, trying to get him to do something, but he doesn’t.

he chuckles, his smirk hidden from your eyes, but you could feel it when he pressed his lips to your ear, leaving an openmouthed kiss in it. “so soon? where’s the fun in that?” he says rhetorically, he has been dying to bury himself inside you, but he still wants to play with you some more. “need to prep you first, baby.”

your moan is music to his ears when he inserts his fingers in you with a quick motion, pleasure running through your veins. but it wasn’t enough. you didn’t want that, you wanted his dick inside you. “f-fuck, jake… jake, please,” is the first glimpse of a plea, and jake is relishing on it. he quickens his movements, fingers working on your walls like magic. he brings his thumb back to your clit, drawing little imaginary circles in it and your head falls back, back arching as you push your hips forward again. “jake, j-jake… please, fuck me. wanna cum on your cock.”

although he really wanted to, he couldn’t resist your plea. he doesn’t need to be told twice, taking his fingers out slowly and helping you out of your shorts and underwear. he takes his shorts off along his boxers right after, his dick slapping his stomach as he does so.

once he’s between your thighs there isn’t much to be said, he’s already guiding his dick to your entrance when your legs wrap around his waist. you both moan at the intrusion, the stretch making your mind go blank as your head falls to the side, right hand finding support on his back as your left hands tangled on his locks. you’re both panting and you barely started, his thrusts are sharp, he reaches so deep in you. your closed eyes and open mouth are better to watch than jake could ever imagine, he wishes he could have this everyday. “oh my god, fuck–” he swears, hand gripping you jaw to give you a kiss. it’s messy, your tongues meet more outside than inside your mouths. when he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting you two. his weight is supported on his forearms as he moves to mark your neck mumbling, “y-you feel so good princess, so goddamn good.”

the room smells like sex, your hands try desperately to somehow steady yourself in that moment that didn't seem like reality at all. jake pressed his hips into yours harder and harder with each kiss he left on your neck, his mouth brought you little by little closer to heaven and you let a specific loud whine escape your lips. you could feel his smile as he raised his head so he could kiss your mouth with unquestionable desire once again. you use your legs to pull him closer and his eyes roll back under his eyelids. you arch your back slightly, your chest pressing against his and your fingers – finally – pulling on his strands. jake brokes the kiss to moan and looks at you in that surrendered way he always does. he just couldn't help himself, he needed to ruin you just a little bit more.

“so beautiful, my princess.” his possessive tone making you clench around him, his hand moves from your side to your neck, where he gives it a light squeeze, and then he grabs your cheeks with one hand. not too hard, but enough to make you lift your face. “open your mouth for me, love.” and you comply. your mouth parted slightly and your eyes glued to his, but he’s too lost watching you run the tip of your tongue between your lips to notice. he uses his thumb to open your mouth even wider, naturally salivating at the thought of what he would do next.

when his spit meets your tongue and you swallow without protest, he is gone. the moan he fails to contain comes out muffled as he presses his face back into your neck. the hand that was previously on your cheek goes down to your thigh where he delivers a harsh squeeze. “fuck…” he whispers, inevitably moving his hips to fuck you harder, faster. he was too lost in the feeling, and so were you. 

the intoxication sensation of your orgasm comes quickly, and it’s devastating. jake takes notice of the way your nails run down his back, the other pulling on his hair and your legs impossibly tight around his waist. “would look at that– ah–, you’re going to cum, baby?” he asks, voice low and wavering, “are you?”

you hum, your moans impossible to suppress. you drool on the fabric of the mattress – you were so, so close. jake has other plans, though. “oh, c-come on now, princess… we’ve– ah– talked about it a-already,” he says, hand coming to your neck, adding some pressure – just enough for your eyes to roll back on your closed eyelids. he loves to watch it, his own release coming fast and unforgiving. “use your words.”

“i– fuck– can i cum, jake? p-please…” you start, eyes opening to lock with his as best as you can. “please! jake, ah– i can’t hold it a-anymore…” you cry out, head lolling back once more. “f-feels so good, so good.”

jake can’t hold it back any longer too, hips unrelenting at your begging. “go ahead, baby. cum for me.” he whispers, and it feels like you fall over the edge immediately. the unceasing clenching of your walls only pushing him to his orgasm too, thick ropes painting your inner thigh as he pulls out. the wave of pleasure that overtakes you both is devastatingly good, you can barely discern what's happening as whispered “thank you’s” fall from your lips. when you both fall back to reality you’re sweaty and breathless. he drops his weight on you, arms caging your body as his head finds the comfort of your chest. you giggle and hug his shoulders, eyes too heavy from tiredness to keep them open. you fall asleep before the both of you can say anything. jake senses your calming breath, choosing to clean himself and you up before giving into the temptation of sleep as well. he dresses you on his shirt that was on the floor after putting on his boxers, hugging you from behind whispering sweet nothings to you, lulling himself to sleep.

DAY 37 - Fool For You

you’ve never been one to give in to awkwardness. you pride yourself on being quite a light presence, always funny or trying to make everyone feel comfortable. but it wasn’t until you had sex with jake that it changed. because, sadly, now you’re just always nervous around him. it had been two days since he claimed you for himself – two days and you still haven’t really faced him. what could you do, really? pretend it never happened? act like the big deal it was and possibly ruin everything? acknowledge what happened but act like it's not going to destroy every single wall you've built around yourself?

you felt hopeless and you missed him – so much. because after what you two shared, there was no room for doubt, no room for hiding the undeniable truth. you were deeply, madly and uncontrollably in love with jake. so much so it hurted you. so much so you could tell everyone and you would never feel ashamed of it. but, what about him? how could you ask him if you didn’t even know how to allow yourself to be vulnerable like that? to let him in like he was always there –  although it felt like he had always been part of you, you also couldn’t help but overthink it. you felt like he understood you even if no words were spoken, but would it really be enough for him to know that you loved him? would you be enough for him? did he feel the same? god, did he even like you at all? and as you torture yourself – feeling like you could actually feel a physical discomfort from all the thinking and loving and wanting you had trapped inside you –, jake was losing his mind.

he was in complete despair, like he’ll never have you. all of the time it took for him to get to know you, to get close to you – it felt meaningless –, and now you were slipping right through his fingers all over again. it wasn’t fair. he knew you felt something for him. and it was driving him insane, because if you felt even just a little bit of what he feels, then it was enough for forever. even if you feel just five percent of what he feels for you, you would make it until the end of the world. but it didn't matter, because you hadn’t talked to him yet. he was feeling like he was left to die of starvation, your absence making him hallucinate. making him question just how much he wouldn’t do for you – only so he could finally have you. because he was feeling like he could do it all, but he needed you to come to him. to allow him to truly see you, to truly feel you. so he decided to wait. wait for you to come to terms with the reality you seemed so against living and then he’d do everything – anything to keep you by his side.

even if you weren’t sure about how things would turn out, you know it was you who had to make the first move and when you decide to get your shit together, you walk straight to his room. looking calm on the exterior, but completely wrecked on the inside, yet it’s kinda funny for you. you have nothing to fear anyway, expect for, well, a rejection – but it wasn't really going to stop you. when you get to his door you take a few deep breaths, gathering the courage that was just a few seconds ago all over you but seemed to suddenly vanish. you grow eager, as if it was all coming to realization. it feels so fucking right you could cry, you decide to knock before it all becomes too much. doing it softly, you wait for him to answer, cleaning your sweaty palms on the sides of your sleeping shorts.

jake’s listening to some random “songs for studying” playlist on youtube while scrolling through his media when he hears the soft knock on his door. he freezes, what was happening? he jumps out of bed, looking around checking if anything needed replacing. when he sees everything’s fine he walks to the door, but remembers he had changed into his sleeping clothes, so he goes back to check himself in the mirror, only for him to run a hand through his hair and get right back to the door. once there he doesn’t think twice, swinging the door open. “hi!”

you get startled by the sudden movement. jake looks like he has the energy to run a marathon and is hardly holding himself from doing so. it’s cute. you look at his puppy-like eyes, his lips slightly parted and his hair falling in his brows. you almost say right then and there, but you hold it – waiting for a more appropriate moment. instead, you say “uh, hi.” and then you giggle, looking down to your feet and then back at him. “what are you doing right now?”

he lets out a giggle himself, a bit more at ease now that he knows you’re not there bringing bad news. then he answers, “honestly? nothing,” and he laughs at his own sentence.

“good, can i come in then?” you ask, but before he could even answer you’re already explaining yourself, “it’s just– uh, i want to talk to you…”

he smiles nervously, stepping aside so you can come in. after you walk in, he guides you to his bed by your shoulder and then he lays on his side, propped on his left arm. “tell me all about it, baby.”

the nickname makes goosebumps raise all over your body, but maybe it was the fact that you had acknowledged you want this whole thing so much – maybe it was burning in you all along just waiting for an excuse to be freed. “i… so, i wanted to–” you stutter, growing a bit nervous.

“hey,” he grabs your hands that were in your lap. “relax! you’re kinda freaking me out, you know?” he says, trying to lighten the mood. he could see what you wanted to say was serious but he also didn’t want you to get anxious over it. “i feel like you’re gonna say you're a murderer or something.”

you can only laugh, because he’s such a fucking idiot and you love him so bad it’s kind of pathetic. “god, that’s such an idiotic thing to say…” you pause, looking at him playing with your bracelet mindlessly. then you realized there was no way he went for all the trouble to fuck you if he didn’t have any feelings for you. it was so dumb of you to assume that in the first place. and it felt so right in that moment – almost dream-like –, you didn’t want to waste it. the words left your mouth by impulse, but they all fell so naturally out of it too, it barely felt like it was the first time you were saying them, “i love you, jake.”

jake feels his whole world stop. what did you just say? he couldn’t voice it out better, muttering, “what?”

“yep…” you say comically popping the ‘p’, head nodding dramatically, lips pressed in a thin line and brows furrowed in fake apprehension. because, deep down, you’re sure it was going to work out just fine. “guess that’s worse than a murder, huh?”

jake’s going crazy, he wasn’t expecting you to ever say it like that, so easily. “do–” he gasped, choking a bit. he was a mess by this point, his hands pulling you closer by your wrists until your face was close enough, to the point he could feel your warm breath on his nose. his voice cracking with obvious emotion, but he really couldn’t care less, “do you really?”

and your eyes water, voice faltering just as much, “of course i do, jake… ” you press your forehead to his, eyes closing but you can feel his hands shaking where they hold you and you wanted nothing but to make him feel all of the love he made you feel.

“oh my god,” he uttered, voice completely drowned in emotion as his breath hitches and he sobs, but that doesn't stop him from keep talking, “oh my god, baby, i love you too,” he states, like it wasn’t obvious by the way the tears left his eyes and stained your shirt. he’s a blabbering mess, but you love it. “i love you so much.”

and there, in between tears, smiles and sweet words, jake’s certain that he’d do everything all over again, just to have you. and you know you found the one.

DAY 38 - Apocalypse

you wake up in your bed with a startle, out of breath and with tears blurring your vision, threatening to fall from your eyes. your heart was filled with so much love you could never possibly keep to yourself only, so look to the side to reach jake. only, he isn’t there. you sit up, confusion knocks on your poor sleepy brain and you stumble out of bed. you remember very vividly you had fallen asleep with jake the night before, after you so happily declared your love for each other. as you reach for your doorknob you pause, what if it was a dream? because you remember you were in jake's room last night, not yours. were you so sleep drunk you couldn’t tell if it all happened or not? you rush to open the door and walk towards jake’s room, but he wasn’t there either. so you decide to go to the kitchen, not yet ready to give up, even if your heart was squeezing like you had lost the only love you ever had known.

as you reach the kitchen you hear some noises and your body fills with excitement as you eye jake’s broad figure – but, wait. is that a Seattle Mariners shirt?

“oh my god, jake. why are you wearing jay’s shirt?” your voice competing with your laughter, trying to imagine what would be jay’s reaction if he saw his favorite shirt in jake’s body – his very nice, very doable body. “i’ll tell jay.”

“don’t you dare, pretty,” he says, like it’s a threat – that has no effect, whatsoever – as he drops whatever he was doing to come hug you. “it isn’t jay’s, he gave me this one on my birthday last year,” he gave your forehead a kiss, then the top of your head and kept going, “how did you sleep? i put you in your room ‘cause mine’s closer to the kitchen and i wanted to make breakfast. did i wake you?” but you almost don’t hear it, his voice being drowned since he talked while his lips were pressed to the top of your head. 

“you didn’t wake me, love,” and the way you say it makes jake’s heart melt. “but i woke up crying and for some weird reason i thought yesterday was a dream…” you add, hugging him back and taking in his scent.

“i left for 15 minutes and you were already crying from missing me? that’s cute, princess,” he laughs after speaking, moving you to sit at the counter. “well, it’s good it wasn’t a dream then, huh?”

you give an disgusted look to his little joke, but you’re smiling when you brush your lips to his, “i don’t know… i’m starting to regret it.”

“you’re so mean,” he replies, but he’s also smiling. he gives you a brief kiss on the lips, then one on your cheek. he looks at you for a bit and says, “i think i should make us breakfast…”

you both laugh, knowing what he’s hinting at. you get off the counter and help him, being so filled with contentment and love as you watch him make a mess in the kitchen just like always,

“i love you.”

a/n: it was supposed to be all a dream in the end, but i couldn't do it. let me know what you think<33

[capquinn]

cant stop thinking putting quinn in the dog house for something he did and him being super clingy and yeah😔😔(im down bad for this man)

STOP he’d be a freaking nightmare to deal with in the dog house and you’d get no satisfaction out of it 😭😭😭

So the thing about Quinn is that he doesn’t mess up often — not in the big ways, at least. So when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He’s not the kind of guy to brush it off or pretend it didn’t happen; he feels it. Deeply. Which is probably why, after whatever dumb thing he’d done, he’d been moping around the house like a kicked puppy for days.

And it wasn’t like you’d slammed a door or screamed at him when it happened. You’d just went quiet. Pulled away. You didn’t even mean to — it was just instinct. But he noticed, of course he did, because Quinn notices everything when it comes to you. And the worst part? You didn’t yell. You didn’t even seem angry. You just looked… hurt.

And that gutted him.

He’d tried giving you space at first, thinking maybe that’s what you wanted. But Quinn’s not a man built for distance. Not from you, atleast. So by day two, he was trailing after you like a lost child, his big, stupid, guilty eyes following you around the house, looking for any sign of forgiveness.

“Need any help with dinner?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I can chop the onions? Or, uh, wash the dishes after?”

“I’ve got it, Quinn.”

It was killing him. Every clipped sentence, every soft sigh chipped away at him bit by bit. And yeah, maybe you weren’t outright ignoring him, but your responses were just polite enough to make him feel the weight of the distance between you. The worst kind of punishment, because it wasn’t really punishment at all — it was just the consequence of hurting someone you love.

By day three, he was in full-on grovel mode. Apologies spilling out of him whenever you so much as glanced his way. Little touches — on your shoulder, your hand, your waist — tentative and quick, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed anymore. And the kicker? He started leaving you notes. Notes. Like he was a middle schooler trying to get his crush back.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re right. I was a jerk.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

They’d pop up everywhere — on the fridge, on your pillow, even in your bag when you were heading out the door. And it wasn’t even annoying; it was just… Quinn. Pathetic in the most endearing way, his guilt so genuine it practically radiated off him.

When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he cornered you in the kitchen, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for impact.

“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice quiet but steady. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that you can’t even look at me without…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it takes. Just tell me how.”

And how could you stay mad at that? At the man who looked at you like you hung the stars, who was so bad at being in trouble because the thought of being out of your good graces was unbearable to him?

You didn’t say anything right away, just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead against his chest. His arms came around you instantly, like he’d been waiting for it, and you felt the tension in his body melt away as he buried his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, his voice breaking slightly, and this time, you didn’t just hear the words — you felt them.

“I know,” you said softly, and the weight of it all seemed to lift in that moment.

Quinn would hold you there for as long as you let him, his grip firm but careful, like he was still afraid you might slip away. And when you finally pulled back, his eyes would search yours, full of hope and relief and that quiet, unshakable love that made forgiving him the easiest thing in the world.

[ruewrote]

𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: the prank, no use of y/n GENRE: ANGST. SONG INSPIRATION: youth by daughter WORD COUNT: 9.1k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: who's ready to cry?

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

no one truly understood how much his sister's disappearance had shattered him.

they tried to be there for him, to console him in those rare moments when he couldn’t mask the pain that cut him so deeply. 

they wanted to help, but no amount of support could bridge the pain left behind.

but you, you didn’t need to see the cracks to understand how broken he was. 

you were the only one he ever truly let in.

his brokenness became yours. the faraway look in his eyes, the way he’d drift off into silence, the dark circles that painted the story of sleepless nights. it all tore at you. he needed you more than ever, and in truth, you needed him just as much.

you started showing up at his place late at night, no matter the hour. just to hold him. to check on him. to sit beside him when the silence became unbearable.

there were no words that could mend what he had lost, no comfort you could offer to fix the pieces of his shattered heart. and yet, your presence was enough. he never said it out loud, but you saw it in the way his breathing slowed, the way he relaxed when you were near. 

you made it a little easier for him to sleep, to eat, to simply exist.

you’d do anything for him, and you had proven that countless times.

so when he brought up the idea of going back to the lodge a year after his sister’s disappearance, your heart sank. you knew it would be agonising for him, and the thought of reliving those memories made you hesitate. 

but when he asked you to come along, because you hadn’t been able to go the prior year, you couldn’t refuse.

you’d never let him face something like this alone.

you were the first ones to arrive at the lodge, the mountain air crisp as you stepped out of the car and took in the familiar, yet bittersweet surroundings. once you stepped in front of the lodge josh grabbed your bags before you could protest, flashing you a small, tired smile as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“i’ve got these,” he murmured, his eyes flickering with a warmth that hadn’t been there in a long time. then he headed up the stairs, leaving you alone in the spacious but eerily quiet cabin.

you took a moment, inhaling deeply, letting the nostalgia and tension settle in your bones. with a contented sigh, you stretched your arms out and decided to get to work. the place needed a little life breathed back into it. 

you started in the living room, uncovering the dust covered furniture. the old couch creaked as you lifted the heavy cloth, revealing its worn, familiar fabric. you busied yourself with small tasks: arranging the cushions, stacking wood, and kindling the fireplace until the room started to glow with a warm, flickering light. 

it felt good, in a way. a distraction, a chance to bring some comfort back into this space that had held so much grief.

but after a while, you realised you hadn’t seen josh. it wasn’t like him to disappear without a word, so you set down the last piece of kindling and wiped your hands on your jeans, calling out as you made your way to the bedroom.

“baby?” you called, peeking inside. the room was empty, the bags still packed, and there was no sign of him in the ensuite bathroom either.

frowning slightly, you turned back and started wandering the halls, your footsteps light on the wooden floors as you searched for him. just as you rounded the corner towards the front door, it flew open with a loud thud.

you jumped, letting out a squeal as your hand flew to your chest. there was josh, grinning looking extremely proud of himself, his laughter filling the cabin.

“oh my god, you scared me!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-annoyed as he stepped closer and pulled you into his arms.

“sorry, sorry!” he chuckled, his voice softer now, brushing a kiss against your temple. “couldn’t resist. you should’ve seen your face.”

you playfully slapped his chest, but the sound of his laughter, genuine and unburdened, was something you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. it melted away any irritation you felt, leaving behind a warmth that spread through your chest.

“you’re terrible,” you muttered, smiling despite yourself.

“yeah, but you love me,” he teased, his smile faltering just a bit as he looked at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. for a moment, the playfulness faded, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable.

“i do,” you whispered, your hand sliding up to rest over his heart. you felt the steady beat beneath your palm, a silent promise that you were here, together, no matter what memories this place held.

josh’s eyes softened, he pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. 

“thank you for coming,” he murmured. “i know it’s not easy. being here.”

you squeezed him tighter. “you don’t have to thank me. i’d follow you anywhere, you know that.”

he nodded, his grip tightening around you before he pulled back, a lighter smile on his face now. “c’mon, let’s finish setting up before the others get here. i want it to feel...normal. at least for a little while.”

it didn’t take long for everyone to show up, the lodge filling with a familiar mix of voices and laughter. the chill from the outside seemed to melt away as your friends settled in, dropping their bags and unwinding in the main room. 

the fire you started was crackling, casting a warm glow over the space. you could feel the tension start to ease, though the air still held an undercurrent of unease.

you made your way over to josh, slipping under his arm. he pulled you closer, his hand rubbing soothing circles against your back. you rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as the others chatted and joked around. for a moment, it almost felt normal.

then the front door swung open with a sharp gust of wind, and in walked emily and matt. emily’s face was set in a familiar look of annoyance, her eyes rolling as she stepped inside. matt followed close behind, his jaw clenched, clearly frustrated. you could sense the tension between them before they even spoke.

“well, look who finally decided to show up,” sam drawled from across the room, leaning against the couch with a smirk. mike's eyes flicked briefly to emily, lingering a moment too long.

emily scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “yeah, well, some of us had to deal with a little drama on the way up here,” she snapped, shooting a glare at matt, who looked like he was biting back a retort.

“drama? what kind of drama?” jessica chimed in, her voice dripping with curiosity and something sharper. she stepped closer to mike, wrapping her arm possessively around his waist. the look she shot emily was a thinly veiled challenge.

“oh, you know, the usual,” emily said with a sarcastic smile. “matt getting all worked up over nothing.”

matt’s face reddened, and he stepped forward. “over nothing? you were practically hanging off mike’s arm, em!”

mike’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the show. “hey, don’t drag me into this, man,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “i can’t help it if people like being around me.”

“oh please,” jessica interjected, rolling her eyes. “it’s not like she hasn’t moved on, right, em? or maybe you just can’t let go of the fact that i’m with him now.”

emily’s eyes narrowed, her voice icy. “oh, trust me, jess, you’re welcome to him. i’ve moved on to bigger and better things.”

“bigger and better?” jessica repeated, her voice rising in pitch. “you think you’re better than me?”

the room went silent, the playful banter tipping quickly into hostility. matt stepped closer, fists clenched at his sides, while mike watched with a smug grin. you felt josh tense beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders. he had that look in his eyes, like he was trying to decide whether to step in or let the drama play out.

“alright, alright, everyone, let’s just cool it, okay?” josh finally intervened, stepping between them with a broad, disarming smile. “we’re here to have a good time, remember? no need to fight over ancient history. how about you and jess go to the other cabin that i told you about and you let this go?”

he shot a pointed look at mike and then at matt, his tone light but firm. mike shrugged, backing off with a chuckle, while matt reluctantly stepped away, muttering under his breath. emily and jessica exchanged one last glare before turning away from each other, both visibly annoyed but unwilling to push it further.

the hours drifted by slowly as you lay in bed, your head pounding with the dull throb of an oncoming migraine. you closed your eyes, trying to block out the flickering shadows cast by the firelight, wishing for some rest. 

the lodge had fallen into an almost eerie silence. everyone had split off, doing their own thing, giving the place a stillness that felt almost unnatural.

then you heard it. a loud, frantic banging on a door downstairs, followed by a sound that made your blood run cold.

chris’s voice desperate.

“ash! oh my god, ashley!”

you bolted upright, the pain in your head forgotten as adrenaline coursed through your veins. throwing on your shoes, running out of the room and down the stairs, heart pounding in your chest.

you found chris frantically pushing against the kitchen door.

“hey, chris!” you yelled, grabbing his arm, trying to get his attention. “what’s going on? what happened?”

he turned to you, eyes wide and wild, barely able to get the words out. “it’s ashley,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “something– something took her! we were looking for clues and then... i don’t know, it grabbed her! we’ve got to get her out of there, now!”

the sheer panic in his voice left no room for questions. you nodded, bracing yourself and shoving against the door with him, putting every ounce of strength you had into it. the wood groaned under your combined weight, the hinges straining.

with a sudden, violent crack, the door flew open, and the two of you were thrown forward, hitting the carpet hard. you scrambled to your feet, the room dimly lit and filled with shadows. it was hard to see, but as your eyes adjusted, you spotted her.

ashley was sprawled on the floor, unconscious, her body limp and unmoving.

“oh my god, ashley!” you gasped, rushing to her side. you knelt down, hands shaking as you checked her pulse. relief flooded through you when you felt it. faint, but steady. she was breathing.

you turned back to chris, ready to tell him she was okay, but the words died in your throat as a shadow moved behind him. before you could shout a warning, a masked figure stepped out of the darkness and swung a fist, landing a brutal punch squarely across chris’s face.

“chris!” you screamed as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

instinct took over. you had no time to think, only react. you sprinted to the kitchen, grabbing the first thing you could find, a small knife. it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

you held the knife out in front of you, your hands trembling as you backed towards them, trying to protect her and chris. 

“stay back!” you shouted, your voice cracking with fear. “i swear i’ll use this!”

but before you could make another move, you felt it. a strong arm snaking around your waist, yanking you back against his chest. the sudden pressure of a cloth was pressed over your mouth and nose, the sickly sweet smell of chloroform invading your senses.

you thrashed wildly, kicking and clawing, refusing to go down without a fight. the knife was still in your hand, and you swung it blindly behind you. you felt the blade connect, slicing into flesh, and a distorted scream of pain ripped through the air. the grip on you loosened for a moment, using the last of your strength to try and break free.

but it was too late. the world around you started to blur, the room spinning as your vision darkened. your body went limp as the chloroform took hold, the knife slipping from your fingers.

the last thing you heard before you blacked out was the masked figure’s laboured, angry breathing and the sound of ashley’s soft, uneven breaths, still unconscious on the floor beside you.

that's when everything went dark.

you stirred awake, groaning as the pounding in your head reminded you of the events before you blacked out. 

beside you, chris let out a low grunt, shifting as he groggily sat up. the air was cold and heavy, the lights still off, and nothing around you seemed to have changed.

but as you blinked, clearing the haze from your vision, unease curled in your gut. something was different.

ashley was gone.

“shit,” you muttered, your voice breaking the silence. panic surged through you as you scrambled to your feet. turning to chris, you shook his shoulder, forcing him to focus. “chris. ashley’s gone.”

chris blinked hard, his face paling as realisation dawned. “what? where– what the hell happened?”

you didn’t answer, instead yanking him to his feet. “we’ve got to find her. she can’t be far.”

switching on the flashlight of your phone, you searched your surroundings. the beam caught every shadow, every corner, as you searched for any sign of where she might have gone. 

finally, your light hit something, a purse lying on the ground.

“it’s hers,” you said under your breath, crouching down to pick it up. it wasn’t much, but it was something. you clutched it tightly as you moved around the house toward the front door.

the door creaked as you pushed it open, the cold night air cutting through you. but what you saw next made your stomach twist into knots.

blood.

it smeared the wall outside the door in messy streaks, glistening faintly under the pale moonlight.

“holy shit,” chris whispered, his voice shaking as he stepped closer. “is that–?”

you didn’t let him finish. your flashlight followed the trail of blood, which led away from the house, cutting through the snow.

“we have to follow it,” you said, barely able to keep the fear out of your voice.

chris nodded, sticking close to you as you both ventured into the freezing darkness. each step crunched beneath your boots, the sound unnervingly loud against the eerie silence of the night. 

the blood left a faint trail to the shed in the backyard.

it was there that you heard it. a voice, cracked and trembling, carried by the wind.

“chris!”

ashley.

her sobs were unmistakable. exchanging a panicked glance with chris, both of you breaking into a run.

you burst into the shed, your flashlight sweeping over the scene inside. the sight made your blood run cold.

ashley hands tied above her to a wooden board, tears streaming down her face as she struggled against the ropes holding her in place. 

she wasn’t alone.

beside her was josh, also bound, his wide eyes locking onto you the moment you entered.

“oh my god,” you breathed.

“help me! please, help!” his voice cracked.

ashley was sobbing harder now, her pleas barely coherent as she begged for you and chris to save them.

their cries grew louder, filling the small shed with tension, until they didn’t.

the sound of a voice, deep and distorted, crackled through hidden speakers, silencing them both.

“hello, and thank you all for joining me..”

the voice was chillingly calm, it’s tone laced with malice. it was the one you’d heard before you passed out. 

you and chris froze, every muscle in your body tense as the words echoed around you.

your flashlight flickered slightly. josh’s voice cut through the deafening silence, quieter this time, trembling with nothing but anguish.

“please,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours, wide and glistening with unshed tears. 

“don’t let whoever it is hurt us.”

before you could respond, the crackling static of the speakers filled the shed once again, followed by the same deep, sinister voice.

“tonight, we’re going to conduct a little experiment.”

“what the fuck is going on?” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

the voice continued, unfazed by the panic rising in the room.

“for this experiment, we’ll need the cooperation of two of our test subjects… joshua and ashley.”

“what?” ashley’s voice broke into a sharp shout, her cries mixed with a choked sob.

josh froze, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his panic evident even as he tried to keep himself from breaking completely.

“oh my god,” you whispered, dread settling deep in your chest.

“but,” the voice drawled, almost casually, “we’re going to need one more brave participant to help decide… which subject will live, and which will die.”

“no,” you gasped, your voice cracking as the weight of the words slammed into you. tears burned in your eyes, now spilling over as you covered your mouth with your hand. “no, no, no!”

ashley’s screams became louder. “this can’t be real! this can’t be happening!”

josh pulled against his restraints again, pleading. “don’t listen to him! please, get us out of here!”

their cries overlapped, filling the room with desperate pleas and frantic sobs. you couldn’t breathe; the room felt like it was closing in, the walls pressing tighter and tighter around you.

chris stood frozen beside you, his face pale, his hands trembling.

“please, please,” the voice interrupted smoothly, it’s calm tone a stark contrast to the chaos you all shared. 

“everyone calm down. it’s all very simple.”

simple?

“you will find a lever placed directly in front of you. all you have to do… is choose who you will save.”

your head snapped toward the lever.

“what the fuck? they can’t be serious!” your sadness morphed into something hot and volatile. rage bubbling beneath your skin as you stormed toward the door between you and them.

“no!” you growled, slamming your hands against the handle. “this isn’t happening! this can’t be happening!”

you pushed, pulled, slammed your shoulder into the door, anything to force it open. the wood creaked under your assault, but it held firm.

the sound of metal grinding against metal filled the air, sharp and shrill. the saw had started.

the noise sent a chill down your spine, you pulled harder on the door handle, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“oh no,” ashley sobbed, her voice rising in pitch. “please, this can’t be happening! this isn’t right!”

the saw’s steady whirring was like a countdown, each second ticking closer to an unthinkable end.

josh’s voice broke through the noise, full of pure terror. “don’t do this! please, you don’t have to do this!”

ashley’s cries grew louder, more frantic. “save me! please, oh my god, i can’t die!”

you could feel your sanity slipping as you turned back to face the room. the lever stood there, mocking you, as if daring you. chris was pacing now, running his hands through his hair, his movements jerky and panicked.

“w-what do we do?” he stammered, his voice cracking as he looked to you for answers you didn’t have.

the saw’s hum grew louder, as the reality of the situation bore down on you. time was running out, and you were trapped in a nightmare with no way out.

the grinding sound of the saw grew louder. your hands trembled as you clutched the door handle, pulling with everything you had, screaming for it to give way.

"come on!" you cried, voice breaking as hot tears streamed down your cheeks. "come on, you son of a bitch, open!"

but it was no use. the door wouldn’t budge.

behind you, the pleas grew more frantic, more agonised. ashley was sobbing uncontrollably, her words tumbling over each other as she begged for her life. josh was screaming now, his voice hoarse and cracking, calling your name, calling chris’s, calling anyone who might listen.

“please!” josh shouted, his eyes wild and terrified as they locked on yours. “you can't let me die!”

your vision blurred as you turned your back to them, the image of josh tied up, eyes red, face swollen burned into your mind. the person who made you laugh when no one else could. the one who saw you when you felt invisible. the one you loved more than anything.

"chris," you sobbed, clutching at his arm. "we can’t do this! we have to find another way!"

but chris wasn’t looking at you. he wasn’t looking at anything but the lever.

he was trembling, his eyes darting between josh and ashley, both of them screaming, both of them begging, their voices a mix of anguish and fear.

"chris!" you yelled, shaking him hard. "don’t! we’ll figure something out! just–just don’t!"

his breathing was shallow, his face pale and wet with tears. “i– i don’t know what to do,” he choked out, his voice broken. “i can’t–, i can’t–”

but even as he said it, his hand was moving. slowly, shakily, he reached for the lever.

"no!" you screamed, lunging for him, grabbing at his arm. "chris, don’t!"

it was too late.

with a guttural cry, chris yanked the lever.

time slowed to a crawl, the world around you dissolving into a haze of sound and motion. the saw roared to life, screaming as it moved toward it’s victim.

“no!” you shrieked, your voice tore through the air as you clung helplessly on the gated wall for josh.

his wide, terrified eyes met yours, full of pain and betrayal. “no, no, no! please!” he screamed, struggling against the restraints with everything he had.

and then the saw reached him.

the sound was sickening, the kind that burrowed into your ears and stayed there, haunting. blood sprayed across the room, splattering the walls, the floor, and even you as you stood frozen, paralyzed by the horror before you.

josh’s screams cut off abruptly, his body going limp as the saw finished it's grim work.

the room fell deathly silent, except for the faint hum of the machinery winding down.

the door clicked, the lock releasing with an almost casual sound. it swung open.

chris stumbled forward, rushing to ashley’s side. she was sobbing uncontrollably as he worked to untie her. “it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “you’re okay. i’ve got you. don’t look.”

but you didn’t move.

you couldn’t.

your knees buckled, and you crumpled to the floor, your body wracked with silent sobs. 

josh. your josh, was gone. the one person who mattered most to you, the only source of true comfort that you had, was gone.

your eyes stayed fixed on the blood-soaked floor, on the mangled remains of the person you loved.

he was gone.

cut in half.

gone.

you hugged yourself tightly, rocking back and forth as grief consumed you, an unbearable weight that left you hollow and broken.

chris turned to you, his face pale and etched with guilt. he opened his mouth, but whatever words he tried to speak were drowned out by the sound of your own sobs, tearing through into the cold, unforgiving night. 

it echoed around you, a resonance that mocked the void where he used to be.

you could still hear him, josh's voice screaming for you in those final moments. still feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear when you used to lie close to him. it was nothing but a ghost now. a cruel reminder of what was gone. he wasn’t there anymore. he would never be there again.

your thoughts spiralled. chris. it was all chris's fault. he had made the choice. not josh. chris. he chose ashley. he chose her over him. his crush over his childhood best friend, your love, your person. the realisation hit.

before you knew it, you were moving, your grief boiling over into something darker. you snapped to your feet, crossing the space between you and chris in an instant. your trembling hands hit his chest, his shoulders. whatever you could reach, your fists weak but desperate.

“why?” you choked out, your voice breaking as you struck him again. and again. “why? we could’ve found another way! how could you do this? how could you do this to me?”

chris didn’t stop you. he stood there, letting you vent your anguish, his own tears carving silent trails down his face. he didn’t try to defend himself, didn’t make excuses. ashley stood nearby, distraught and useless, her sobs muffled behind her hands as she watched the scene unfold.

your blows slowed, turning into open palms pressed against him, you collapsed against his chest. the grief overtook you, the strength to hold it all inside shattered. you cried into him, the rawness of your pain spilling out in broken gasps and incoherent words.

for a moment, chris tried to hold you. his arms moved hesitantly, afraid to make things worse. but the second you felt him, your anger surged again, and you ripped yourself away. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, your voice shaking. you stumbled back, wiping at your face, dragging air into your lungs that felt too thin.

you couldn’t stay here. not in this place. not with these people who used to be your friends. you turned away from them and staggered outside into the night. the cold air bit into your skin, but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered anymore. not without him.

the lodge loomed behind you like a reminder of everything you’d once loved. 

deep down, you knew it didn’t matter who had been chosen. losing either of them would have been devastating, a blow from which you would never truly recover. but that logic was lost in the haze of your grief. it didn’t matter that the decision had been impossible. all you knew, all you could feel, was that chris had made it.

he had chosen not to save josh.

you stumbled a few steps further, every breath was agony. the grief, the disbelief, the rage. it all swirled inside you, drowning you in it’s weight.

it felt as though someone had reached into your chest and ripped out your heart, leaving you to feel nothing but also everything at the same time. you stared at the distant treetops, the stars blurred by tears, and tried to feel something other than the nothingness threatening to consume you. 

your chest heaved as you bent forward, hands braced on your knees, gasping for air that seemed almost impossible to catch. the night’s chill clawed at your skin, but it did nothing to numb what burned inside you.

the crunch of footsteps on snow made you look up, your tear blurred vision settling on emily and matt as they approached cautiously. their faces twisted with confusion and fear as they took in the sight of the three of you. shaking, pale, and splattered with blood.

emily was the first to speak, "what happened?" her voice was sharp but laced with unease. matt hovered beside her, his wide eyes darting between you, the blood, and sounds of the sobs that you shared.

you straightened slowly, forcing yourself to meet their stares. your voice trembled as you tried to speak, every word catching in your throat like broken glass.

“it’s josh,” you rasped. “he… he’s gone.”

emily’s lips parted in disbelief, she faltered as she tried to process the words. matt stiffened, his jaw clenching as his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“what do you mean, gone?” emily asked, her voice wobbling. her eyes darted between you and the shed, expecting josh to emerge at any moment, laughing this off as a cruel joke.

you opened your mouth, but the words refused to come. instead, fragments of the moment flashed in your mind. the split second choice, the screams, the sound of your own heart breaking. you winced, flinching at the memory, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“chris… he had to choose,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind. “it was him or ashley.”

the weight of the admission crushed you all over again, and for a moment, the only sound was the muffled sniffling from you and the distant howl of the wind. emily stared at you, her face draining of colour, while matt swore under his breath and looked away.

“that doesn’t make any sense,” emily whispered, her tone brittle. “how could something like that even happen? why–why was there a choice at all?”

her words struck a nerve, but you didn’t have the strength to argue. you couldn’t. the truth of it was unbearable, but it was all you had.

“i didn’t… i didn’t even get to say goodbye,” you choked out, your voice breaking. tears welled up again, blurring your vision. you turned away, clutching your arms tightly, trying to breathe through the pain.

you hear them talking. quietly at first, but the words soon cut through the air. they’re discussing the psycho on the mountain, piecing together what had happened. the conversation ends with emily and matt deciding to head to the fire tower to try and contact someone on the radio, and chris suggests you and ashley go with him to find sam, still hopefully holed up in the lodge.

you say nothing. you just follow them, keeping your distance but staying close enough to hear the whispers. the words between them are too loud for their own good, a mix of fear and regret, constantly circling back to josh.

ashley’s voice cracks as she speaks to him, her apologies tumbling over each other. “i know how close you were to him,” she says, her voice low. “i– i just... i never meant–”

she stops herself. the realisation hits her. she turns to you, eyes wide with guilt, as if suddenly aware of the weight of her words.

her face is full of remorse, her lips parting to offer an apology, but you can already feel the anger bubbling up inside you.

you clench your jaw, your fists tightening at your sides. she doesn’t get it.

“don’t. you don’t get to talk about him,” you bite out, the words sharp. “you don’t get to. not after what happened.”

the air between you is heavy with tension. ashley opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. she knows. she knows there’s no fixing this. you didn’t want her to. how could she?

you charge upstairs, your legs trembling with every step, but the adrenaline doesn’t let you stop. it fuels you, because you can’t stop. not now. not with sam missing. not with everything spiraling further and further out of control. 

you don’t even bother hiding the tears streaming down your face anymore. you just need to find her and get out of this godforsaken place. this needs to end.

you’re done with the fear. you want to go home, to a place where things made sense. you want to feel safe again, slip into your bed where his scent still lingers, and just… cry. to finally feel the pain and let it break you. 

the hallway stretches out before you, quiet and eerie, the air heavy with the silence that feels so much worse than any scream. your breathing is ragged as you throw open door after door. 

"sam!" you call, but there’s no answer. just empty rooms. no sign of her. each door you open makes your stomach twist tighter with dread, like a rope being pulled too taut.

you jog back down stairs, walking to the entrance of a room you haven't checked yet.

the movie room is where it all comes crashing down. her bracelet. you spot it immediately on the floor, lying there as if it’s mocking you. you freeze, staring at it. she never takes it off. never. your heart drops, she was here. and she’s not anymore.

you stumble forward, picking it up with shaking hands. it’s so small in your palm, so simple, but it’s hers. it’s hers, and it’s the only sign of her that you’ve found. and then you see it. the video.

it’s looping on the projector, a grotesque, grainy replay of josh’s death. over and over. the sound of his screams fills the room, echoing in your ears, drowning out your own sobs. chris is already on it, slamming his fist into the projector, but it’s no use. the damn thing won’t stop playing. he kicks it, hard enough to send it skidding across the room, but it keeps playing.

you double over, clutching your stomach as if it’ll stop the nausea rising in your throat. it’s too much. all of it. the weight of what you’ve lost, the guilt, the fear, it’s suffocating. the bracelet in your hand feels like a cruel reminder that sam could be next. or maybe she already is. and what the hell can you do about it?

“we have to keep moving,” chris says. you know he’s right, even if you can’t bring yourself to say it. you wipe your face with the back of your sleeve and force your legs to move, one step at a time, until you’re following him down to the basement.

the air is colder down here, and not just in temperature. it feels… wrong. like something is watching. waiting. ashley’s hand brushes yours at one point, a trembling, silent plea for some kind of comfort, and you squeeze it instinctively. you don’t say anything, though. what is there to say?

then, it appears. the ghost. at first, it’s just a pale blur in the corner of your eye, but then it comes again. clearer this time. the faint outline of a figure, there and then gone before your brain can catch up.

ashley screams, stumbling back into chris, who immediately snaps into denial. “there’s no way–” he starts, but then it happens again, and the words die in his throat.

your pulse is nothing but a hammer in your chest. you can’t even feel your hands anymore; they’re ice, like the rest of you. you scan the room, every dark corner, every shadow, but it’s the dollhouse that pulls your attention. it sits there, perfectly positioned, it’s tiny rooms lit by some unseen source. 

the dolls inside. each one carefully placed, are positioned just like that night. like the prank. like what happened to hannah.

you couldn't even touch it at first. your fingers hover over the tiny furniture, shaking too much to do anything else. you open it and you see her diary.

the pages are worn, the ink smudged in places like she’d cried over it while writing. you skim the entries, your chest tightening with each one. her excitement about mike. her insecurities. the little hopes she’d held onto, even when things were rough. you can see her in the words, hear her voice, and it breaks you all over again.

she trusted you. she trusted all of you. and what happened? she was pushed too far, and now she’s gone. her warmth, her kindness, her life, gone. 

the tears come harder now, but you don’t stop reading. you owe her this.

you don’t realise how long you’ve been standing there until chris nudges your shoulder. “hey,” he says, softly this time. “we… we should go.”

the basement hallway stretches out further than you thought it would, the shadows growing deeper with each step. then you see it. a figure. sam’s clothes, and for one awful, heart stopping moment, you think it’s her. you freeze, the air ripped from your lungs, until chris steps closer and pulls the chair into the light. it’s not her.

relief floods through you, but it’s short lived. she’s still missing, and the nightmare is still far from over. you glance at ashley, whose eyes are wide with panic, and then at chris.

chris looks just as distraught as you, his face pale, his hands trembling as he struggles to stay composed. you want to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. that’s when you notice it. a shadow shifts behind him, barely noticeable at first. it moves closer, and your heart leaps into your throat.

your mouth opens to scream, to warn him, but it’s too late. a figure lunges out of the darkness, fist connecting with chris’s face in a brutal, sickening thud. his head snaps to the side, he crumples to the floor, out cold.

“chris!” you gasp, but there’s no time to check if he’s okay. the flashlight he was holding clatters to the floor, spinning wildly before it’s beam settles on the attacker. he turns toward you and ashley, his movements deliberate, methodical.

ashley is quicker than you expect. before you can react, she rushes forward, gripping the scissors. she drives them into his shoulder with a desperate cry, the blade sinking in deep. the attacker stumbles back, a low, pained grunt escaping him, but it’s not enough to stop him.

he moves with startling speed, grabbing ashley by the wrist. she struggles, kicking and thrashing, but his free hand rises, before she can break free, his fist connects with her face in a brutal blow. the impact sends her crumpling to the floor in a heap on the floor, her body still.

“no!” the word tears from your throat. helpless, as the reality sets in. you’re on your own, and your only weapon is still lodged in his shoulder.

you turn to run, your legs screaming at you to move, before you can take more than a step, something sharp pierces your neck. it’s small, almost subtle, but the effect is immediate. your hand flies to the spot, fingers trembling as they brush against the tiny dart embedded in your skin.

a whine escapes your lips as your knees buckle. the world tilts violently, the edges of your vision blurring. panic claws at your chest as you try to stay upright, your body refuses to listen. your legs give out completely, you fall, the ground rushing up to meet you.

before you hit the floor, strong arms catch you, pulling you against a broad chest. you’re too weak to fight, your limbs heavy and useless.

“i’m sorry,” a voice murmurs, low and distorted, the words muffled by the mask obscuring his face. “i’m so sorry.”

you try to focus, to make sense of what’s happening, the world is fading fast. the last thing you see before the darkness takes you is the mask staring back at you, it’s blank, soulless eyes the final image burned into your mind.

you wake slowly, your eyelids feel weighted, your thoughts sluggish and out of sync. something isn’t right. your instincts scream it before your senses can confirm. when your eyes finally flutter open, the world above you sharpens into focus. two massive saw blades hang ominously overhead, their jagged teeth gleaming under harsh fluorescent lights.

it’s the next sensation that sends a chill crawling up your spine, your wrists. they’re bound tightly, the rough rope digging into your skin with every small movement. you yank at them, testing the restraint, but it holds firm, the fibres biting deeper.

panic sparks, your breath becoming faster as you look around, desperate to understand where you are, what’s happening. the room is cold and industrial, its concrete walls bare except for the shadows cast by flickering lights. your gaze snaps to the figure directly in front of you, chris.

he’s slumped in a chair, his head hanging slightly, his face pale and tight with fear. one of his hands is bound to the armrest, but his other arm hangs free. between you, perched cruelly sits a gun.

your chest tightens as you try to move your legs, only to realise they’re tied too. the ropes around your ankles bite just as viciously as the ones on your wrists. you twist and pull, but your body feels sluggish. the injection, that stranger. you’re still under it’s influence, your limbs betraying your desperation to escape.

“chris?” your voice is hoarse, trembling, thick with fear. “what’s going on? where are we?”

he lifts his head slightly, meeting your eyes with a look that chills you to your core. his face is a mix of confusion and terror, his lips parting to speak. “i don’t know.”

your mind reels, memories flooding in, the shed, the others, the horrific choices. 

the weight of what’s coming feels unbearable.

“we’ve gotta get out of here,” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible over the relentless pounding of your heartbeat.

that’s when you hear it. the saws.

the metallic whine cuts through the air as the blades begin to descend, slow but deliberate. the sound, growing louder with each passing second. your head snaps upward, and the sight of the spinning teeth edging closer sends a fresh wave of panic through you.

“no!” you scream, thrashing against the restraints, your wrists burning as the ropes cut deeper into your skin. the effort is frantic, wild, but useless. the ropes don’t budge. you feel like you’re suffocating, the walls of the room closing in.

and then they stop.

the saws are still whirring, still spinning inches above your head, but their descent halts. the silence that follows is almost worse than the noise. 

that’s when you hear it.

that voice again.

“hello there, my special little subjects.”

your stomach twists as the sound crawls over your skin. chris freezes across from you, his head snapping up toward the speakers embedded in the walls.

“aw, shit,” he mutters, his free hand darting for the gun on the table between you. he grips it tightly, holding it up defensively as though the steel in his hands could somehow protect you both from the nightmare unfolding around you.

the voice continues.

“chris has made one fatal choice already today, and now he must make another.”

you and chris lock eyes, the horror in his matching your own. your breaths come faster, you shake your head desperately, trying to deny the inevitable.

the voice pauses, as if savoring the moment, before delivering the final blow.

“chris, you can take the gun in front of you and shoot her, or you can shoot yourself. whoever is left gets to live. the choice is yours.”

your stomach churns, your chest tightening so much it hurts.

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, your voice trembling. “no, this can’t–this can’t be real.��

chris’s hand shakes as he lifts the gun, his knuckles white around the handle. his gaze flickers to the saws above you, still spinning mercilessly, then to you, and then back to the gun.

“don’t look at me like that,” he says, his voice barely steady. “there’s gotta be a way out. this… this doesn’t make sense.”

he turns the gun toward the machinery and fires. the deafening crack of the shot echoes in the room, but it does nothing. the saws keep spinning. the gun’s recoil jerks his arm, and he mutters a curse under his breath, lowering it slightly as the futility of the situation sinks in.

“no, no, no,” you mutter, panic clawing at your chest. you thrash against the restraints again, harder this time, your vision blurring with tears.

“chris,” you rasp, your voice breaking. “you have to do it.”

“what?” his head snaps toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“shoot me.” the words come out stronger than you expected, but the tremor in your voice betrays your fear. “you have to. you can’t–” your voice falters, and you swallow hard before continuing. “you can’t kill yourself. you have ashley. you can live. you can make it out of this. i–i can’t.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” chris’s voice rises, desperation thick in every syllable. 

“i’m not doing that! we’ll figure something out– together.”

“there’s nothing to figure out!” you cry, your voice raw. tears spill down your cheeks, but you keep going, words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “chris, i can’t live without josh. don’t you get it? i’m already gone. he was everything to me, and now he’s dead. i don’t have anyone to go back to. but you– you have ashley. she loves you. you can still have a life.”

chris shakes his head violently, his grip on the gun trembling. “no. don’t– don’t say that. don’t you dare say that. you think this is what i want? to kill you? how the hell am i supposed to live with that?”

“by being alive!” you scream, your voice cracking. “chris, please. i can’t– i can’t do this anymore. just end it. end it for me. you don’t deserve to die here. not for me. not like this.”

tears streak his face now, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. the gun in his hand wavers, the barrel swinging between you and himself.

“i can’t,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i can’t do it.”

“you have to,” you plead, your voice softer now, almost broken. “please, chris. you have to make it out of here. you have to live. for ashley. for yourself. for me, don’t let this place take you too.”

the saws above you screech, jolting both of you. the voice returns, colder now, more impatient.

“time is running out, chris. make your decision.”

chris’s face crumples as he stares at you, the weight of the choice pressing down on him. his hand tightens around the gun, shaking harder now.

you hold his gaze, tears streaming down your face. “it’s okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling but resolute. “it’s okay. just do it. i’m ready.”

the gun rises.

the room feels impossibly still, the only sound the relentless whir of the saws above. your chest heaves with shallow breaths as you close your eyes, waiting for the end.

BANG.

the sound reverberates through the room, deafening and final. you jolt, your body stiffening in anticipation of pain, but... nothing. you’re still here. alive. untouched.

your chest heaves as you slowly open your eyes, your breath caught in your throat. chris is staring at you, his face pale and drawn, his expression one of shock and bewilderment. he’s just as confused as you are.

the saws above you screech to a halt, the room plunging into a sudden, eerie silence.

you blink, trying to process what just happened. “chris?” you whisper, your voice trembling.

before he can answer, the overhead lights blaze to life, harsh and unforgiving. the sudden brightness makes you wince, and when your eyes adjust, you see him.

the psycho.

he steps out of the shadows, his mask gleaming under the fluorescent lights. he moves with a slow, deliberate confidence, as though savoring your fear. your heart pounds wildly in your chest, the sight of him terrifying you.

“no,” you stammer, your voice rising in panic. “no, no, no! get away from us!”

chris, snapping out of his stupor, raises the gun without hesitation and fires.

bang!

bang!

bang!

three shots. each one echoes through the room, but the psycho doesn’t even flinch. he doesn’t stumble, doesn’t react. it’s like the bullets didn’t touch him.

“oh, chris...” the voice is mocking now, dripping with condescension. the psycho moves closer, his head tilting as if amused. “oh, chris, chris, chris, chris, chris.”

chris’s grip tightens on the gun, his knuckles white. “what the fuck?!” he shouts, his voice cracking with frustration and fear.

the psycho chuckles, a low, sinister sound that sends chills down your spine. he circles the table slowly.

“you’ve heard of blanks before, haven’t you?” he says, his tone smug and condescending. “i mean, really?”

chris freezes, the gun lowering slightly as the psycho’s words sink in. blanks.

you feel your stomach drop. the tension in the room grows unbearable as the psycho stops beside you, his presence radiating menace. he tilts his head, examining you for a moment before turning his attention back to chris.

“i mean, come on,” he says with a smirk in his voice. “you really thought i’d make it that easy?”

his hands move to the edges of the mask, and your breath catches in your throat. the anticipation is unbearable as he lifts it, slowly revealing his face.

your eyes widen in disbelief, shock and horror flooding through you as the truth clicks into place.

it was him all along.

the sound of the door screeching open echoes through the space, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him.

your entire body feels like it’s been hollowed out, like every breath has been violently torn from your lungs. your mouth is open, but no words come out, no sound—just the sharp, jagged edges of disbelief slicing through you.

josh.

josh, your josh. the one you saw ripped in half, his blood pooling across the floor in a scene so horrific it seared itself into your memory. the man you mourned, grieved for so deeply it felt like the world might never make sense again.

and yet here he is, standing before you.

“josh?” mike’s voice cuts through the silence, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself of what he’s seeing.

you can’t think, can’t move. it’s like the pieces of reality are crumbling apart and leaving you suspended in this unbearable moment. how is this possible? how is he alive? and more terrifyingly– why?

a tidal wave of emotions crashes over you. confusion, relief, anger, betrayal. all churning into a storm so violent you don’t even know which way is up anymore. your head drops, the tears come, shaking you to your core. but the sobs are silent, strangled by the sheer weight of it all. 

you cry so hard your entire body trembles, the kind of crying that leaves you gasping for air but never getting enough.

sam rushes over, her hands working to untie the ropes binding your wrists. “it’s okay,” she murmurs, though her voice shakes as much as your hands do. “we’ll figure this out. you’re okay. i’ve got you.”

but even as she says it, you can hear her unspoken doubt. she doesn’t understand what’s happening any more than you do.

and then josh laughs.

it starts low, a chuckle that grows louder, sharper, until it fills the room. the sound is manic, cruel, cutting through your grief.

“oh, very good! every one of you! got my name right!” he says, his voice dripping with mockery, arms flung wide as if he’s addressing an audience. “and after everything you’ve been through– wow!”

your stomach twists painfully as his words sink in, each one laced with something venomous. he paces the room, looking at each of you in turn, his grin widening as he feeds off your reactions.

“good, good, good. i mean, how does that feel?” his eyes flick to you, it feels like the winds been knocked out of you. “huh? do you enjoy feeling terrorized? humiliated? panicked?”

his voice rises with every word, his arms flailing dramatically.

“all those emotions my sisters got to feel one year ago! only guess what? they didn’t get to laugh it off! no, no, no! they’re gone!” he stops, his face twisting into something wild and unhinged.

mike steps forward, his expression dark, his body tense. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed, josh, but none of us are laughing.”

chris then speaks up, there’s a venom in his voice you’ve never heard before. “you want to talk about humiliation? about terror?” he jabs a finger in josh’s direction, his voice rising with every word. 

“do you have any idea what you’ve done to her? to all of us? you died, josh. we thought you were dead! she—” he gestures toward you, his voice cracking. “she begged me to shoot her because of what you did! she wanted to die, josh! because of you!”

josh’s manic energy falters, his expression slipping into something more subdued. his mouth opens like he wants to argue, but nothing comes out.

chris steps closer, his face inches from josh’s now. “you think this is justice for your sisters? you think this is what they’d want? or are you just too wrapped up in your own goddamn head to see the difference?”

josh stares at chris, his lips trembling, his confidence visibly cracking.

but you’re not watching them anymore. you’re staring at the ground, your vision blurred by tears. his voice, his face, his laugh. it’s too much. it’s all too much.

“hey,” josh says softly, steps toward you, his voice lacking the bravado it held moments before. 

“hey, it’s okay. i– it’s me. it’s josh. i’m here now.”

you feel his arms around you, warm and familiar, and for a fleeting second, you almost give in. almost let yourself believe that this is the josh you knew, the josh you loved.

but then reality slams into you like a freight train.

“no!” you cry, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you have left. he stumbles back, his face a mask of shock and hurt.

you take a step back, your chest heaving, your voice trembling with betrayal. “how could you do this to me? to us?”

josh’s hands rise defensively, his eyes wide. “i– i didn’t mean–”

“don’t you dare,” you snap, you point at him. “don’t you dare act like this was some accident. you planned this, josh. you planned it, and you knew what it would do to me!”

your voice shatters into a sob as you turn away from him, collapsing into sam’s arms. she catches you, holding you tightly as you bury your face in her shoulder.

“it’s okay,” she whispers, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. her voice is steady, but the anger in her eyes as she glares at josh is unmistakable. “i’ve got you. it’s okay.”

josh takes a step toward you, his hands reaching out. “please, i–”

sam’s glare sharpens, “don’t. you’ve done enough.”

josh stops, his arms falling to his sides. the room is heavy with silence now, the weight of his betrayal suffocating.

and for the first time, you see it on his face, realisation. guilt. maybe even regret.

but it doesn’t matter. nothing he says or does will undo what’s already been done.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ @antihuntress

© ruewrote 2024.

[respectthepetty]

GMMTV 2025 - Hot Tops and One Bottom

GMMTV offered up ONE straight show, and even though I'm salty that I didn't get Midnight Museum 2 and despite the current state of the world, I have never been happier to be alive at this exact moment that I'm living in. GMMTV really cemented that it is Disney BL, and said FUCK THEM HETEROS!

As usual, I'm listing what shows I'm most excited to see from GMMTV's annual unveiling, but in order to be fair to the other shows, I will not consider one of the shows in the rankings because I am a Jaidee fan first, and a human second:

Dare You to Death

My boys are giving me ~Murder, Manipulate, Make-Out, and MAYHEM~ so I'm already seated, sat, and sitted. I've always thought Joong should play a character who was insincere and a bit crazy, and Dunk should lean into his haughtiness (emphasis on HOT), so even though all these other shows look great, they aren't JoongDunk trying to solve a murder while trying to not murder each other, and it would be unfair of me to hold that against everyone else. I was going to take whatever I was getting from them, but THIS?! Sorry, to everyone else, but y'all never stood a chance.

#1a - Memoir of Rati

Moment of honesty - Inn and Great are fine as fuck. They are already attractive to begin with, so to put them in a historical drama, of course, I'm going to eat it up. This is a serious piece about political and social tensions which I have no doubts they will carry into getting some awards for it. I was getting worried that these two weren't going to have another show together next year, but not only did GMMTV give them one of the meatier plots, the series also has Aou and Boom in it with an amazing story as well, so this was easily my top choice.

Or at least it was my top choice until . . .

#1b - Ticket to Heaven

Religious trauma aligned with Catholicism is my special brand of queer angst, so this series already has me all the way fucked up. Fourth is such a phenomenal actor and Gemini always acts his ass off, so I know they will have me in a fetal position every single episode clutching my rosary and praying for God's mercy since I'm already in my feelings about this. The heathens in the room better read up on some biblical references because if you thought I was doing too much over a cross necklace in Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo and the praying in The Warp Effect, I Saw You in My Dreams, and Marahuyo Project, block me now because that was only the tip of the religious iceberg.

#2 - Cat for Cash

Although I'm a vegetarian, I'm a Disney villain who strongly dislikes animals, yet even I was happy to see First getting advice from cats on how to make coffee and how to win over Khao. This is the FirstKhao romance we have been waiting for! It looks soft and sincere, and even though the plot involves hearing cats, First as the worst debt collector and Khao as a grieving sad boy are their most realistic characters they have ever played. The series also looks like it's going to make me cry, so thank goodness Satang showed up to make sure I would be emotional about every show GMMTV gives me next year.

#3 - That Summer

On the topic of Satang, I'm shocked that I clicked with this trailer. I was ready to write this off as a Hallmark series due to its plot about a prince with amnesia falling in love with a commoner until the trailer revealed that he doesn't have amnesia, and the commoner knows he is a prince. The trailer situated the problem will come from their class differences plus Mond is kissing a homie (in secret), and since I just asked for more series with sad wet boys on the beach, this show goes at the top for GMMTV delivering me something I didn't know I wanted but a show I definitely needed.

#4 - A Dog and a Plane

Tay and New got me by the throat in 2019 and 2024 with Dark Blue Kiss and Peaceful Property, and even when I wanted to be mad at Cherry Magic, I couldn't because these men always sell the hell out of a ship even when they shouldn't. I'm a Jaidee fan first, and a human second, but I'll throw on some polar bear and whale jammies any day to join the Polcas because Tay and New have not disappointed me once in their joint shows or individual shows. So here I am, super duper excited to see New play a GAY flight attendant (a stereotype I love to see) whose man is trying to screw Pun only for Tay to take the hush money yet still catch feelings AND FLIGHTS! Marc's there too, so it's time I was served openly gay men who are trying to join the mile-high club since it's been over a decade since I got Pedro Almodóvar's I'm So Excited.

#5 - My Romance Scammer

I support marriage equality, but I do not believe in the institution of marriage, so I'm thrilled that GMMTV decided to throw me some gay divorce the same year gay marriage was legalized! Next, I'm getting the odd ball couple of Ohm and Fluke with Fluke being a dummy who falls for the first man who is nice to him, only for Marc to think he has a great relationship with Junior, BUT IT'S ALL A SCAM! I will probably end up defending this show with my life because this is the romcom romcoN I deserve!

Side Quest - Tarot Card Series

The theme for this year's announcement was "Riding the Wave" but it should have been "Wheel of Fortune" because there were a lot of shows about destiny and changing the future, so I'm going to rank those in a quick sub-category:

1) My Magic Prophecy

This is the dynamic I want to see from Jimmy and Sea. Jimmy IS a doctor, so getting a clean-cut smarmy version of him will pair so well with muscular Sea being a jerk. I was going to make a quirky comment about how they can now see the future as a reference to Last Twilight, but I'm still salty about that show, so I'll just be happy for them and THIS show.

2) Head 2 Head

I'm excited for the Only Boo kids because I think they should've gotten the My Love Mix-Up remake since I think they do well with being complete opposites that make perfect sense being together. This is also how I found out that Surf from I Saw You in My Dream is now with GMMTV.

So although it was awkward to realize GMMTV had acquired another BL boy under my chismosa nose (am I slipping?), it's nice to see the company staying on brand as Disney BL in its attempt to capture all the Pokemon Avengers BL Boys.

3) Wu

Since I've been watching High School Frenemy through my dash, I know plenty of people will be ecstatic to see Nani and Sky play soulmates, again (because High School Fremeny is gay af!), but I'm showing up because I got the red bracelets of destiny tying the boys together!

The trailers this year were surprisingly lax on the colors, so I'm taking what I can get how I get it. Bring me the RED STRING OF FATE!

4) MU-TE-LUV

This is Club Sapan Fine with a different name so it's going to be campy and messy. But do I think GMMTV will handle fems well? No. Am I pressed about it? Also, no. Because I actually watch AND enjoy Club Sapan Fine, so if GMMTV wants to try its hand at wild wacky camp in an anthology-style series, I'm down to clown, at least for the queer episodes that is.

5) Melody of Secrets

This was originally going to be number three on my Tops List, but as the trailer continued, I got more confused. Then, Force's face blurred and it looked like he got snatched by a demon, so I got scared. Like real scared. I don't eff with los espookys, so I'll be watching this show with the lights on and my Care Bear squad to protect me.

Honorable Mentions

I watch ALL GMMTV queer shows (and even the ones that only I think are queer), so I'll still enjoy something about these shows, but they were just lacking that special razzle dazzle:

Burnout Syndrome

Director Nuchy. Gun in black lipstick. Gun being a sex worker. Off being an asshole. Thor. Poly(?). This should have been my Holy Grail, but I can't believe the show will give me a proper love conflict when OffGun are a branded pair. Also, Nuchy gave me ToddBlack, who I will NEVER be over, so even though I know she can and will give me *THE* toxic couple to root for above all other toxicitos, unless these two are about to drown each other in that bathtub and play Olympic-levels of mind games with each other, I'm reserving my excitement until it airs.

Me and Thee

A soap-opera loving mafioso. Pond in suits with slicked-back hair. Phuwin being beautiful. Santa looking delicious. Est back in his Naughty Babe assistant mode. Perth. COLORS! Just like Burnout Syndrome, on paper it looks like something I would devour, but a third of that trailer was Pond and Phuwin in a bathtub, and in my Michelle Visage voice, "stop relying on that body" even if that's the biggest reason I'll be showing up to watch.

Whale Store

Milk licked cat food off of Love's finger, and I fear this might be too lesbian for me. I don't kink shame, and I'm always down to eat a girl out go down, but cat food? Really, sis? On top of that, this felt like a JittiRain series with Love's character clearly hiding something that is going to hurt Milk's character, then the side couple was crying and making everything awkward. I support the lesbians. I support queer rights AND wrongs. I'll be repeating this even as I'm watching it.

Boys in Love

GMMTV was smart putting all the new kids in a show with Papang x Podd as the little older romance crumbs to keep us satisfied for the time being, but that's also why I'm being petty. If this is the stepping stone for Papang and Podd to be leads for GMMTV 2026, then I'll take what I can get, but I feel like Oliver Twist asking for more porridge, when I should already be getting a damn buffet!

Love You Teacher

This show almost had me in the first half. Sam's character was giving me everything. The premise was solid. Perth was an already gay man in a long-term relationship with his boyfriend. Things were going well even with the accident. Then, the show brought on the real plot --- seven-year-olds. Jesús Cristo. It was a lovely time up until then, and now, just like the cat food, I'm realizing new things about myself and my boundaries on a random Tuesday morning, and I don't like it.

Girl Rules

This is the female version of Only Friends saran wrapped in women's empowerment. No me gusta pero lo voy a ver because I support queer wrongs even when they are oh-so-very wrong.

The Love of Siam: The Musical

What. The. Fuck. But also, sign me up!

Dishonorable Mention - Only Friends 2: Dream On

I've reached new heights in my pettiness because this show is in Petty Prison before it even airs. My blog is a living record of how badly I wanted Minx Mix and Flirty Fluke in the first season of Only Friends. It was the only thing I could think about; then, I ended up hating the first season, so I counted my blessings that Minx Mix only showed up for two whole seconds and Flirty Fluke was nowhere in sight. And now this has happened. This is a lesson in "be careful what you wish for" because I have never been more upset that I finally got what I wanted. Unless the show gives Boston his cake and lets him eat it to, I'm not watching it. Not Minx Mix, Flirty Fluke, or Ohm's body could convince me to do this a second time.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ guilt trip, t. alexander-arnold. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: every year, trent and his mates bet on no nut november. and every year trent fails to hold out. it's really not your fault you can't hold off.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: so sorry this is up so late <3 day ten of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, brief fingering, begging.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.7k.

"I can't believe it's November already," you said, your eyes fixed on the calendar. The page, a warm palette complementary to the warm autumnal hues of the season, glared back at you with a single, scribbled note: "No Nut November begins today". You sighed, knowing what this meant for you and Trent's love life for the next thirty days.

Trent sailed into the room, his broad frame casting a shadow over your thoughts. "I think this is my year, babe," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "I swear I'm gonna win that bet."

You could only roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the bet. "You've never made it past the first week," you reminded him, your voice laden with skepticism.

Every November 1st, you had come to expect the same conversation with Trent. You knew the drill: he'd announce the start of the "No Nut November" challenge with the excitement of a kid on Christmas Eve, and you would play along, feigning shock and annoyance. But this year, you felt a twinge of genuine annoyance. You had been dating for almost two years now, and you had hoped that by this point, the juvenile betting pool with his football mates would've grown old. But here you were, staring down the barrel of another month-long abstinence challenge.

Trent, ever the competitor, was undeterred by your eye roll. "This year's different," he assured you, crossing the room to give your arm a playful squeeze. "Me and the boys have upped the stakes. The winner gets bragging rights and a sweet little prize."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what's the prize this time?" you asked, already bracing yourself for the inevitable.

Trent's eyes lit up. "It's a weekend getaway to a posh spa resort. Imagine it, babe," he said, his voice full with enthusiasm. "Just you and me, no interruptions, no training, no matches."

You couldn't help but feel a spark of interest. A weekend at a spa was something you hadn't indulged in for quite some time. "And who's doing the challenge this year?" you inquired, knowing full well that you would be the one keeping Trent honest.

"Just me, Dom, Ryan, and Harvey," Trent listed off his competitors with a grin. "But it's mainly between Dom and me, to be honest."

You sighed, knowing that Dominik was going to be the toughest competition for Trent. "Alright, you know the rules," you said, trying to hide your amusement. "No funny business for the next thirty days."

Trent nodded solemnly. "I know, I know," he said, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. "But just think of the prize, love. A whole weekend of pampering and no distractions. We can finally relax."

You couldn't argue with that. "Fine, I'll hold you to it," you said with a smirk. "But if you even think about cheating..."

"Would I ever?" Trent protested, his eyes wide and innocent. You just raised an eyebrow at him, and he chuckled, admitting defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll behave."

The first week was surprisingly easy, with Trent's focus on the bet keeping him in check. The two of you spent your evenings watching movies and playing board games, your hands brushing against each other in innocent gestures that somehow seemed more intimate than your usual passionate encounters.

But as November marched on, the tension grew. You could feel it in the way Trent's eyes lingered on you, the way his touch slightly lingered. The air in the apartment thickened with unspoken desire, and you had to bite your tongue to keep from teasing him too much. You knew how much this ridiculous challenge meant to him, and you didn't want to be the one to make him stumble.

One evening, with about four days left to go, Trent came home from training with a new haircut, the fresh scent of aftershave wafting through the door before he did. You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for your dinner, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him. His hair was buzzed closer to his scalp than it had been that morning, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and the intensity in his brown eyes. Though you would deny it, you nearly dropped the knife at the sight of him.

"What do you think?" Trent asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice as he spun around to show you the full picture.

You couldn't help but stare. The clean-shaven edges of his head and the short, textured hair on top were always a favorite look of yours, but the excitement in his eyes was purely childlike. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile. "Looks good," you said, your voice a little too flat. "Very clean, babe."

Trent stepped closer, leaning against the kitchen counter, his gaze trained on your reaction. "Thanks," he said, his voice a little too casual. "Thought I'd go for a change."

You could see the challenge in his eyes, the silent dare to push the boundaries of the bet. You scoffed, trying to play it cool. "Don't get too cocky," you warned him. "You've still got a few days to go."

Trent chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "Cocky?" he repeated, his smirk growing wider at the double entendre. "Now why would you say that?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your expression neutral as you continued to prep dinner. "Because you know it's going to be hard to resist," you said, your voice low. "Especially looking like that."

Trent pushed himself off the counter and sauntered over to you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Is that so?" he murmured, his breath warm on your neck as he peered over your shoulder. His fingers danced across your waist, making your heart flutter despite your resolve to keep things PG for the next few days.

"Trent, don't," you chided, swatting his hand away, but not before you felt the electricity of his touch zipping through your body. You turned to face him, your desire shimmering in your eyes despite your stern expression. "You're making this impossible."

"Impossible?" he said with a cheeky smile, his thumb brushing the side of your face. "You know you want to." His voice was a low murmured tease that sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to maintain your composure, but the smell of his fresh shower gel and the sight of his toned arms flexing as he leaned against the counter was making it increasingly difficult. "I've been helping you remember?" you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"Ah, but what's the fun in that?" Trent whispered, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Besides, it can stay our secret?"

You knew you should be the voice of reason, but his touch was making your knees weak, and the way he looked at you with that cocky grin had your mind racing. You stepped back, trying to create some distance, but the kitchen was small, and he followed you, his hand sliding around your waist to pull you closer.

"Trent," you protested, even as she felt yourself melting into his embrace. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch, your body craving his warmth.

He kissed your neck, his lips lingering on your sensitive skin. "Come on, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "One little slip won't hurt."

Your resolve was wavering. The smell of him, the heat of his body, and the promise in his eyes were too tempting. "Trent," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can't. You'll lose the bet."

Trent leaned in closer, his mouth finding yours in a gentle but urgent kiss. "It's okay. I don't care anymore," he murmured against your lips. "I just need you."

You felt the last of your resolve crumbling. You pushed away the guilt that tried to surface. After all, it was just one time. And you had missed him, more than you would like to admit. "Fine," you whispered, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "But you better make it worth it."

With a growl of victory, Trent swept you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, leaving the chopped vegetables forgotten on the kitchen counter. He laid you gently on the bed, his hands tracing the curves of your body with a hunger that had been building for weeks. You couldn't help but feel a thrill at the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Your kisses grew more urgent, your hands more explorative. Trent peeled off your sweater, revealing your bare chest, a silent invitation that hadn't gone unnoticed. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching in his throat. Your pulse quickened, the anticipation of his touch making your skin prickle with excitement. He kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as he untied your sweats and slid them off your legs.

Trent's strong hands roamed your body, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, eliciting a gasp from you. You reached for his shirt, tugging it over his head with an eagerness that surprised you. His skin was warm and smooth, the muscles of his chest tightening under your palms.

You rolled over the bed, a tangle of limbs and passion, the intensity of your kisses matching the urgency in your movements. You felt the heat of his erection pressing against your center, and you moaned softly, your arousal growing. Trent kissed a trail down your body, his teeth grazing your skin, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

Your hands found his hair, tugging him closer as he nibbled at your skin, teasing and suckling until you were squirming beneath him. His hand slid down your stomach, his fingers finding your wetness, and you arched your back, your breath hitching in response. He chuckled darkly against your skin, knowing just how much it drove you crazy.

Trent took his time, savoring every inch of your body as if it were his first time. His touch was both gentle and demanding, leaving you gasping for more. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips when he slipped a finger inside you, stroking you in a rhythm that had your hips moving in sync. Your legs fell open wider, giving him full access as he kissed and licked his way down your body.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional sound of skin against skin. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of desire, your body responding to Trent's every touch with an urgency that had been building for weeks. You could feel the tension coiling within you, tightening with every stroke and kiss.

Trent paused, his eyes locking with yours as he reached for his shorts. Your chest heaved with anticipation, your heart racing at the thought of what was to come. He hovered over you, his gaze filled with a mix of need and love.

Without a word, he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his erection nudging at your entrance. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed in, the sensation of being filled by him almost too much to bear. He groaned, his muscles tensing as he buried himself deep inside you. The two of you moved together, your rhythm a dance you had perfected over the years you had been together. Each thrust brought a wave of pleasure that crashed over you, making your toes curl and your nails dig into the bed sheets.

Trent moaned into your ear, his voice a mix of passion and affection that sent shivers down your spine. "You feel so good," he murmured, his breath hot and ragged. You responded with moans of pleasure, your body arching to meet his as the tension grew tauter. The room was a cocoon of passion, the rest of the world outside your window forgotten in the heat of the moment.

"Baby," you whispered, your voice a soft plea as the tension coiled tighter within you. Trent's rhythm grew more urgent, his breaths shallow and ragged against your skin. The heady scent of your combined arousal filled the room, a silent testament to your shared need.

"Yeah? Tell me what you need, pretty girl," Trent's voice was strained as he moved above you, the muscles in his arms flexing with the effort to hold himself up.

Your nails raked down his back as he brought your legs up around his waist, changing the angle and driving even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt the orgasm building, the heat pooling in your core. "Please," you begged, your voice barely audible.

Trent kissed you again, his movements growing more frantic as he felt you tighten around him. He knew you were close, and the knowledge spurred him on. "Come on, baby," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "What do you need, love?"

"Harder," you gasped, your eyes wide with desire. "Please, T. Harder."

Trent complied, his strokes becoming more forceful, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. Your breathing grew ragged, and your eyes squeezed shut as the wave of pleasure built, threatening to consume you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, and you knew that with one more push, you would be over.

"Now, baby," Trent whispered, his voice a mix of command and desperation. And with one final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your orgasm ripping through your body like a storm. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you clenched around him. The intensity of your climax took you by surprise, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath.

Trent followed closely behind, his own release crashing over him like a wave. He buried his face in your neck, his breaths coming in heavy pants against your skin. You felt him pulse inside you, the sensation sending aftershocks of pleasure through your core. Your hand gently fluttered over the trimmed hair at the nape of his neck, your touch soothing his panting breaths.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the distant murmur of the city below. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt, knowing that Trent had just failed to win the bet. But as Trent rolled off you, pulling you close, you pushed the thought aside. For now, you would revel in the warmth of his embrace, the feel of his chest rising and falling with each breath.

Trent leaned in and kissed your forehead gently. "Worth it?" he whispered, a smug smile playing on his lips.

Your head shook but you couldn't help but laugh. "You're such a tease," you huffed, your voice still shaky from the aftermath of your orgasm.

"Couldn't resist," Trent said with a grin, his chest still heaving. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not a big deal anyway. Dom gave up this morning."

Your eyes widened in shock. "What?" you exclaimed, pushing yourself up to look at him. "You mean you could've..."

Trent nodded, his cheeky grin growing wider. "Could've," he confirmed, "but I had to make it good. For the prize, obviously."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. "Trent," you said, shoving weakly at his chest. "I felt so guilty."

Trent chuckled, kissing your forehead again. "It's alright, love," he assured you. "I think we've been good for long enough."

You sighed, a mix of relief and annoyance crossing your face. "I guess. But you could've told me sooner," you pouted, snuggling closer to his warmth.

Trent shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?" He leaned in, kissing your cheek. "Besides, we both know I was going to win anyway." His voice was full of good-natured arrogance, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes, even as you felt a warmth spread through your chest at his confidence.

The tension of the past few weeks dissipated into the comfortable silence that had become a familiar blanket between you. Your mind raced with what you could say to scold him, but the feeling of his strong arms around you, his heart beating steady and strong against your chest, was too comforting to let go.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

A request that I received from a friend on tumblr. ‘The reader has to leave for a week roughly, when he comes back Abby is obviously excited and wanting to play with the reader the rest of the day. But all Mike wants to do is have you under him writhing in ecstasy. Basically it's Mike having blue balls for most of the fic until the end when it's night and he *politely* hugs the reader while they frantically make love’

Tags: Part 10 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Mike is missing you deeply. A tiny bit of jealousy. Mentions of phone sex. Smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Anal sex.

Words count: 3000 words

Part 1-Part 2- Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8 -Part 9

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The moment you stepped through the door, Abby's squeal echoed through the house. You barely had time to set your bag down before she came bounding toward you, her little arms outstretched. She wrapped herself around your waist in an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking you off balance.

"You're back! You're back!" she cried, hopping on her toes as if to emphasize the sheer force of her excitement.

You laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Missed me that much?"

She pulled back, her face a mixture of indignation and joy. "Of course I missed you! You've been gone forever!" She tugged at your hand insistently, her small fingers gripping tightly. "You have to see what I did while you were gone. I drew a lot! And I made one for you and you have to see it."

"Abby, take it easy, you're going to knock him over," Mike's voice came from the kitchen, casual but unmistakably warm. "He has been gone a week and you've got him chained to you already?"

"I missed you too," you said with a grin before kneeling down to meet Abby’s eye level. "Have you been good while I was gone? Not driving your brother too crazy, I hope?"

Abby giggled, then held out her pinky. "Promise I've been super good. Except maybe when I made Mike drop the spaghetti last night because I tried to do a cartwheel in the kitchen."

You glanced up at Mike, your smile widening. “Sounds like I missed quite a week.”

Mike rolled his eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Sorry about her," his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "She's been talking about you all week. You'd think you were gone for months." His voice sent a pleasant shiver through you, low and steady but edged with amusement.

"She's fine," you said, smiling. "Honestly, it's nice to be missed."

He leaned against the doorframe, the dim lighting catching the tired creases under his eyes. Black hair messy t-shirt that clung to his lean but sturdy frame. His gaze lingered on you and only now did you realize how much you had missed him.

Abby, oblivious to the silent tension, kept tugging at your hand. "Come on! I need to show you something!" Her excitement bubbled over, her small hands pulling you toward her room with surprising strength. "I drew so many things while you were gone and you have to see them all!".

You glanced over at Mike, offering him a half-apologetic smile as his sister guided you by her room. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his lips twitching between amusement and thinly veiled frustration.

Mike's brow arched slightly as though to say, ‘Really? After a week away, you're prioritizing her?’ But he didn't speak his protest aloud. Instead, he pushed off the doorway with a grunt, muttering, "Guess I'll just... wait my turn."

The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with crayon drawings taped to the walls, scattered across the floor and piled on her tiny desk. Abby flopped onto the carpet, pulling out a stack of drawings with the urgency of someone sharing top-secret information. "Okay, okay! Look at this one first. It's Chica but I made her of a different color."

You chuckled, sitting cross-legged beside her as she thrust the drawing into your hands. “A total masterpiece."

Her eyes sparkled at your praise. "You think so? Look at this one!" She shuffled through the pile, pulling out another one that she eagerly handed to you.

"This one is us at the park," she explained, holding up a crayon drawing of the three of you surrounded by flowers and trees. "Those two are you and Mike holding hands! I drew it because you're always together."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, feeling a tinge of embarrassment but also a deep sense of affection. "You're quite the artist, Abby. I look amazing here. You're going to be famous one day."

Her eyes lit up at the compliment, and she beamed with pride. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you assured her, glancing at Mike. "Right, Mike?"

From the bed, where Mike had sprawled out with all the ease of a man trying to keep his patience in check, a low sound of approval erupted. He smirked at the question, his gaze flickering between you and Abby. "Yeah, kid. You've got some real talent. Be careful, though. Keep going like this and his ego's going to get too big." His dark eyes watched you intently, softening ever so slightly every time Abby smiled at you.

Abby's grin widened and she immediately dove into her stack of drawings to find more to show you. Mike's smirk softened into a fond smile as he watched her animatedly interact with you. He loved seeing you and Abby bond, though his gaze kept drifting to you, lingering on the curve of your back as you leaned forward, the way your lips quivered when you laughed and the soft glow in your eyes as you encouraged Abby.

A part of him felt guilty for how often his mind wandered, but he couldn't stop the flood of thoughts. He knew he should focus on the moment, but his body's reaction to having you so close after a week apart was impossible to ignore

He clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the mundane but his gaze kept wandering back to you. Your fingers brushed hers as you helped her shuffle through the pile of pictures, your laughter soft and genuine as you let her talk about her latest dream.

‘God, those hands...’ his eyes lingering on the way your fingertips moved. He didn't mean to stare, but the memory of those same hands clutching his shoulders, clawing at his back, sent a flash of heat straight to his core.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, feigning disinterest as his thoughts betrayed him. The view of the way you leaned slightly forward, the curve of your spine visible through your shirt made it ten times worse. He wondered, for the briefest of moments, what it would feel like to have you there on the floor, pinned beneath him, the softness of your moans muffled against his lips.

Abby leaned against your shoulder, holding up another picture. This one was clearly meant to be Mike, his hair a chaotic swirl of black scribbles. "This one's you, Mike! I made his hair messy because it's always like that." she exclaimed, holding up a surprisingly decent rendition of his perpetual frown.

"It's not always messy," he protested half-heartedly. He was leaning against the bed frame, one leg propped up, his head tilted lazily against the wall. You turned toward him with a grin. "She's not wrong, though."

Mike shot you a glare, though there was no real malice behind it. "I see you've both decided to team up on me. Great. Just what I needed after a long week." he muttered.

Abby giggled, unfazed by his grumbling as she kept eagerly pulling out new drawings she made

His eyes softened at the sight of you and Abby together. She was sitting so close to you, practically in your lap, her small hand tugging at your sleeve as she babbled on about her next masterpiece. It was enough to make his heart ache, both from the warmth of seeing you bond with her and the sharp sting of jealousy that you weren't paying attention to him.

He let his head fall back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as he tried to shake the frustration bubbling in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this. Abby was a kid and she deserved every bit of your attention. But damn it, he'd missed you. A week without you had felt like an eternity and now that you were here, he had to sit back and wait?

His fingers twitched at the memory of the previous night at work. Alone in the security office, watching the flickering monitors, the silence stretching endlessly. It had been another slow, uneventful shift, the kind that made every second feel like an hour.

One second he was leaning against the chair, the next he got up and grabbed the nearby phone and dialed the number of the structure you were in.

He'd called you on impulse, not even sure you'd pick up so late.

"Mike?" Your voice had been groggy but laced with concern. "It's, like, two in the morning. Are you okay?"

The sound of your voice had been a balm to his frayed nerves. “Yeah," he'd said, leaning back in the chair, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. "I'm fine. Just... bored. Wanted to hear your voice." His tone had shifted, growing rougher, more deliberate.

There'd been a pause, and then a soft chuckle. "You miss me that much, huh?"

He hadn't denied it. He couldn't. Instead, he'd let the words tumble out, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he told you how much he'd been thinking about you. And God, the way you'd responded, your voice growing softer, breathier, as the conversation took a turn he hadn't dared hope for.

By the end of it, he'd been a mess, stroking himself as your whispered moans filled his ear. He'd closed his eyes, picturing you on his lap, your hands clutching his shoulders, your body rocking against his as he thrust up into you over and over. He could still hear your voice, the way you'd gasped his name when you came. It had been enough to leave him breathless, slumped in his chair with his hand still wrapped around himself.

The memory of your voice, the way you'd whimpered his name through the phone, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through him even now.

"Mike, you're not even looking!" Abby's voice snapped him back to the present. She was holding up another drawing, her brow furrowed in mock frustration.

He adjusted his position on the bed, praying Abby wouldn't notice the tension in his body, forcing a smile. "Sorry, kiddo. Let me see."

The hours dragged on, but for Mike, every second felt like an eternity. He loved how natural you were with her, how effortlessly you fit into their little world. But the selfish part of him, the one that had spent countless sleepless nights imagining your body pressed against his, was losing the fragile grip it had on its patience.

Night had finally fallen and Abby, despite her earlier determination to stay awake and keep playing, had succumbed to exhaustion. She lay nestled inside the fort she had spent the better part of the evening constructing, pillows stacked precariously, blankets draped over chairs and furniture, her breathing slow and steady. Mike had taken care to tuck another blanket securely around her, brushing her hair back gently before stepping away.

You stood near the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with a fond smile. There was something endlessly endearing about seeing Mike in dad mode, his gruff exterior softening as he ensured Abby was warm and comfortable.

"She's out cold," he murmured as he joined you at the door, his voice low to avoid waking her. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he gently shut the door behind him.

When he turned back to you, there was a shift in his expression. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist in a firm but measured embrace. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his stubble brushing against your skin as his breath came hot and steady.

"Finally," he murmured, his voice husky. "My turn."

You chuckled softly, though your breath hitched at the weight of his tone. "What, you missed me that much?" You tried to keep your voice light, teasing, though your heart raced as he held you.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his dark gaze smoldering. "You have no idea." His fingers pressed into your lower back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush. "No more interruptions. You're mine now."

Mike's hand never left your waist as he guided you down the hall toward the bedroom. His grip was firm but not rushed, his thumb stroking small circles through the fabric of your shirt. Once inside, he kicked the door shut with a soft thud, the sound sending a thrill down your spine.

He turned to you, his eyes tracing over your face before sliding lower, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved. "I've been waiting all day for this," he said quietly, voice low and rough. "All week, really."

He leaned in and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was deep and consuming, tongue brushing yours, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.

He broke the kiss only to press his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven. "God, I missed you," he muttered, his hands sliding under your shirt to touch the bare skin of your back. "Every damn second you were gone, I was thinking about you."

Mike eased you onto the bed, his weight settling between your legs as he kissed you again. His hands worked your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his lips moved lower, trailing down your neck, your chest, each kiss deliberate and hungry.

His fingers skimmed the waistband of your pants, pausing for a moment to look up at you. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

He leaned down, his lips pressing against your collarbone, your chest, the soft skin of your stomach. Each kiss was hot and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His stubble grazed your skin, a delicious contrast to the softness of his mouth.

When he reached your waistband, he paused, glancing up at you through his lashes. "Can I?" he asked, his voice rough but laced with tenderness.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands worked your pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but that sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hands as they smoothed over your thighs.

He took his time, his gaze never leaving you as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his stubble brushing against the sensitive skin.

"So perfect," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his breath hot against you. "I've missed this so much."

His hands spread your legs wider as he continued his exploration, his lips and tongue teasing you until you were trembling beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, his pupils blown with desire, he reached into the nightstand for the small bottle of lube you both kept there. The sound of the cap clicking open sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

He poured a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it aside. His eyes met yours as he coated his fingers, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.

Your body was trembling with anticipation as you felt his hand slide between your legs, his fingers gently parting your thighs. The first touch of his slick fingers against you made you gasp, your hips instinctively arching off the bed as he began to prepare you. His movements were slow and careful, his fingers working you open with a patience that made your heart swell with affection.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near-growl as he worked you open. "God, I've missed feeling like this."

He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further, preparing you for what was to come.

You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure, every touch sending sparks of electricity through you.

When he finally pulled his fingers out, you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips, your body aching for more.

He reached down to unbutton his own pants, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes until he was just as bare as you were.

He settled between your legs, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh.

His words sent a flush of heat through you, your hips moving involuntarily as you chased the feeling of his touch. His free hand gripped your thigh, holding you steady as he added another finger, his movements deliberate.

"You're doing so good for me," he said, his voice softening for a moment. "So good."

The first stretch was intense, a mix of pressure and pleasure as Mike slowly pushed inside. He let out a low, guttural sound as he buried himself to the hilt, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck," he muttered, his head falling forward against your shoulder. "So tight. Feels even better than I remembered."

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust, his breathing ragged as he fought to hold himself still. "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice low but tender.

"It's good," you whispered, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. "Go on."

You clenched around him, drawing a sharp groan from his lips. His movements started slow, his hips rocking gently as he let you adjust. But as your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in slightly, he couldn't hold back any longer.

Mike's pace quickened, each thrust deep and deliberate, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice raw. "God, I've missed this. Missed you."

Your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his ragged breathing and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Every movement, every touch, felt electric, the built-up tension of the past week spilling over in waves of pleasure.

Mike leaned down, his lips brushing against your jaw as he murmured, "You’re taking me so well... so perfect."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he drove into you with a newfound urgency. His hands roamed your body, touching, gripping, as if he couldn't get enough.

By the time you both reached your peak, you were a mess of tangled limbs and breathless moans. Mike collapsed beside you, his hips stuttered, grip on you tightening as he buried himself to the hilt. His groan was deep and guttural, his body shuddering against yours as he spilled into you, pulling you close against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his lips brushing against your temple. "Don't ever leave me for that long again," he said quietly, his voice still rough from exertion as he tightened his arms around you, his breath evening out as he held you close.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Up next i’ll post another Mike Munroe fic ;)

[wholoveseggs]

Hey girl, while I am jet-lagged from a trip, another Elijah idea came to me. Memory-free Elijah (Season 5) meets strong and confident human readers, and they start a friendship. She helps him navigate through his new life, and he falls for her. He also kinda forgot that he is a really skilled lover, so it's kinda cute and fluff because he is nervous and sweet, but I imagine that is something he would quickly remember after a few rounds :)

Btw: love, love, love Kinktober!!!

Belonging

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} You needed a roommate, and he needed a place to belong...but as secrets unravel and his dark past comes to light, your new housemate might just change your life forever.

♡♡ ahhh @originals23 thank you for another spectacular request!! ♡♡

8.8k words {whoops} - Warnings: sssmmuuttt, roommates-to-lovers, lots of sexual tension, Elijah being charming and mysterious, a dash of angst, mild language, protective Elijah, soft and nervous Elijah, domestic fluff, dangerous encounters (brief physical assault), Paris, vampire reveals && all the feelsss

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @elishi03

Money was tight, as it seemed to be for everyone these days. The economy wasn't kind, and you had bills to pay. You needed a roommate, which was how you found yourself on craigslist. You were hoping for a good, sane human being, but at the end of the day, you would take what you could get.

The first person to show up for the interview was a woman and her very obnoxious boyfriend. You could instantly tell that this would not work, even if you were desperate. She wanted to smoke in the house and have friends over to play loud music and drink all night. You would rather die.

Next came a middle-aged man who immediately gave you the creeps. You had no problem living with men in general, but this guy made you uncomfortable. He stared at you too much and had a weird look in his eyes. You kicked him out quickly, feeling uneasy.

You were about to give up for the day, when a man dressed in slightly worn clothes knocked on the door. You couldn't quite get a read on him, he seemed to be full of contradictions. On the one hand, he didn't look to have a lot of money, perhaps he was even homeless. But his skin was clean, his hair neatly trimmed, and he had an air of confidence that was rare to see.

You invited him in, and he sat at the kitchen table as you asked the usual questions. None of them he could really answer in a straightforward manner.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm not really sure."

"How old are you?"

"I don't know that either."

"Where do you work?”

"I...I'm looking."

You studied him for a minute, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. I know this is a bit unusual, and I wouldn't have bothered coming here if I had anywhere else to go. The truth is, I have no memories of who I am, where I'm from, or even my age."

"That's...that's a lot to take in," you replied, not sure what else to say.

He nodded solemnly, his gaze steady but filled with vulnerability. “It is. I woke up a month ago on a bus with no memory of how I got there. All I had was this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a single, ornate cufflink with an engraved ‘E.’ “I think my name starts with an ‘E.’ Beyond that, I don’t have much to go on.

You leaned back in your chair, trying to process the situation. He could have been lying… anyone could come up with a story like that. But something about his demeanor struck you as sincere. He didn’t have the desperation of someone looking for a quick handout. He carried himself with dignity, even as he admitted he had nothing.

"Okay," you said slowly. "So, let’s say I believe you. You’ve got no memories, no job, no ID. How do you plan to contribute if I let you stay here?”

He straightened in his chair, his expression resolute. “I may not remember who I was, but I’m willing to work. I’m a fast learner, and I can help with anything you need around the house. Cleaning, repairs, anything physical...I’ll earn my keep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure sound confident for someone who doesn’t even know their own name.”

A small, shy smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose some things are instinctual.”

His charm wasn’t lost on you, but you weren’t about to make a decision based on a smile. “And what if you’re dangerous? You could be an escaped convict for all I know.”

His smile faded, and his expression turned serious. “I understand your concern. I don’t believe I’m a danger to anyone, but I can’t offer you proof of that. All I can promise is that I’ll respect your home and your rules.”

You studied him for a long moment, weighing the risks. Something about him made you want to trust him, even though logic told you not to. Maybe it was the way he spoke, all articulate and thoughtful, as though he’d once been someone important. Or maybe it was the quiet sadness in his eyes, the kind that suggested he’d lost something far greater than his memory.

"Alright," you said finally. "You can stay. But there are rules. No bringing strangers into the house, no smoking, no loud music. And if you try anything shady, I’m calling the cops.”

Relief washed over his face, and he nodded earnestly. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.”

You showed him to the spare bedroom, which was small but comfortable, and gave him a set of clean sheets and a towel. He looked around the room as though he’d never seen anything like it, running his fingers over the furniture with quiet curiosity.

As he settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d led before he lost his memory. He was polite and well-spoken, yet entirely out of place in the world. And though he seemed vulnerable now, there was something about him… something strong and enduring, like a flicker of a flame waiting to reignite.

For now, you decided to take it one day at a time. After all, what’s life without a little risk?

The following months passed by quickly. You got closer and closer to each other, spending a lot of time together.

He had gotten used to the city life, and you had gotten used to having him around. It had been nice, having someone to come home to, and to talk to.

He was a lovely person, who enjoyed listening to classical music as he cooked, and who was always willing to lend a hand. He was smart, funny, and kind, and you were starting to fall for him.

You weren't sure if he felt the same way about you, but the way he looked at you sometimes, and the way he smiled at you, gave you hope.

You were sitting in the living room, reading a book, while he cooked dinner. The smell of his cooking was making your stomach growl, and you were looking forward to eating whatever he had prepared.

"I found out something interesting today," he said, coming into the room with a bowl of salad.

"What's that?" You asked, putting your book down.

"My name," he said, a slight smirk on his face. "My full name, I mean."

"You did?!" You exclaimed, excitedly.

"Yep," he confirmed, looking pleased with himself. "It's Elijah."

"Elijah," you repeated, testing out the name. "I like it. It suits you."

He smiled, and the sight of his dimples made your heart skip a beat. He was so striking, and you wondered if there was someone out there missing him. Someone who loved him.

"It does," he agreed, his smile fading a little.

"So, how did you find out? Did it just come to you, or did you remember?" You asked.

"Actually... I uh.. ran into someone who claimed to know me. He wasn't very friendly," he explained.

"Oh no, are you okay?" You asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," he assured you. "I wasn't hurt. Just... I don't know, it was odd."

"Odd how?"

"He was angry, and he told me I wanted this, and that I should leave the city for the sake of a woman he wouldn't name," he recalled.

"That's awful," you said, feeling sorry for him.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Do you have any idea who the woman is?" You asked.

"... I think she might be my family?" He said, looking unsure. "It's hard to explain, but when he mentioned her, it felt like something clicked, and I knew that he was telling the truth."

"Wow, that's big," you breathed.

"I know," he nodded, plating up the food. "It's strange, I don't remember anything about my life, but the mention of her... It felt right."

"Maybe it'll trigger your memories," you suggested, helping him bring the food over to the table.

"Maybe," he agreed.

The two of you sat down to eat, and the conversation shifted to more pleasant topics.

He talked about his favorite books, and his favorite places in the city, and you listened, enjoying his company.

After dinner, you cleared the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. And he prepared for his nightly walk, one he didn't want you joining him on.

"Can I join you tonight?" You asked, as he grabbed his jacket.

"Why?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"Because I want to spend more time with you," you explained, hoping he wouldn't think it was too weird.

"Oh," he said, a smile creeping across his face. "Truly, I would love for you to join... But tonight, I want to clear my head. I need some time alone."

"Okay," you agreed, a little disappointed.

"Tomorrow night, perhaps," he said, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You blushed, and watched him leave. He always had an excuse as to why he had to go out on his own, and it was starting to bother you. You couldn't help but worry that he was hiding something from you, or that maybe he didn't feel the same way about you, and this was his subtle way of letting you down.

Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was your growing feelings for him, but you decided to follow him, just this once.

You grabbed a coat and put on a pair of boots, and slipped out the front door. It was a cold, windy night, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a scarf and gloves.

You could see Elijah's silhouette ahead, and you followed him, keeping your distance. He walked with such grace and confidence, the sort of walk that screamed 'I'm rich and powerful,' although his personality hardly lined up with that attitude.

You had a feeling that whoever he was, before he lost his memories, had a lot of money. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and the way he could make a cheap t-shirt look elegant.

He wandered into a sketchy part of town, and you wondered why he would want to come here. There were several run-down buildings, and a lot of graffiti. The only people you saw were homeless and drug addicts, and you were starting to get scared.

Finally, he stopped outside an abandoned warehouse. You watched from afar as he walked inside, and a few minutes later, came back out, wiping his mouth. You frowned, wondering what he had been doing in there.

Then, without warning, he turned around and started walking back towards the house.

"Fuck," you muttered, ducking into an alleyway.

You waited until he had passed, and then followed him, staying out of sight. He went back in a different direction, and after a few blocks, you realised he was headed for a park.

You followed him, trying to stay quiet, but your footsteps echoed loudly in the night. You felt foolish, and hoped that he hadn't heard you.

He led you deeper into the park, to an area that was mostly secluded. There was a large tree, with a bench underneath it. He sat down on the bench, and stared up at the sky, which was covered in stars.

You watched him for a moment, wondering if this was his way of relaxing, and what was going through his mind.

Suddenly, his eyes locked onto yours. You gasped and took a step back, your heart racing.

"Are you going to join me, or just keep spying on me?" He asked, his voice amused.

"I wasn't spying," you lied, sitting down next to him.

"Of course not," he replied, his tone clearly mocking you.

"Why are you here?" You asked.

"I like the fresh air, and the view is beautiful," he answered.

"What were you doing in that warehouse?"

"Just clearing my head," he said, his expression becoming serious. "You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous."

"You are out here," you countered.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling up in the corners.

"That's true," he agreed, looking out into the darkness, his eyes scanning the shadows. His shoulders were tense, and you could tell that he was on alert, even though you were both sitting safely under the tree. "Let's walk back, shall we?"

He stood up and held out his hand. You took it and he helped you to your feet.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, feeling guilty. "I shouldn't have followed you, but I was worried about you."

"It's alright," he said, keeping a grip on your hand as you walked down the path to the park exit.

You enjoyed the feeling of his hand in yours, the warmth of his skin. You glanced at his profile, admiring his handsome features. You noticed the frown on his face, his dark eyes once again scanning the shadows.

He moved a little faster, pulling you along. He seemed anxious to get out of the park, and back to the safety of your condo.

"What's wrong?" You asked, sensing his unease.

"It's nothing," he replied, his tone serious. "But I think it's best we get home, don't you?"

Then the sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes caught your attention. You turned to see a group of men walking towards you, wearing dark clothing, their faces hidden.

Elijah stopped and stepped in front of you, shielding you from the men. They approached slowly, spreading out to surround you. You were frightened, and you held onto his arm, hoping he knew what to do.

One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Casually holding it by his side, as if it was a normal object, instead of a deadly weapon.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Elijah said, his tone calm and confident. "How may I be of service?"

The leader of the group chuckled, and shook his head.

"Hand over your money, and no one gets hurt," the man demanded, gesturing the gun at Elijah.

"Of course," Elijah said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed it to the man, and the man flipped through it, counting the cash.

"A little light, don't you think?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I don't carry much cash on me," Elijah said, sounding apologetic.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his gaze flicking between you and Elijah.

"Perhaps you should let the lady go, and we can discuss this like civilized men," Elijah suggested, his tone still polite, but his eyes had hardened.

"I don't think so," the man replied, his grip on the gun tightening.

"I uh... don't have anything," you stammered, too terrified to think straight. "I...I left my wallet at home,"

"Liar," the man spat, pointing the gun at you.

Elijah stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the gun.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," Elijah said, holding up his hands. "We're all reasonable people, let's not resort to violence."

"Then, perhaps, we should take her fancy designer clothes instead. Maybe that'll make up for the loss," the man said, his tone threatening, pressing the barrel of the gun against Elijah's chest.

Elijah tensed, and a low growl escaped his lips. You looked at him in surprise, he didn't seem like the type of guy who would react to threats this way.

The leader's eyes widened, and a small grin appeared on his face.

"Ooh, we have a tough guy here," he said, sounding amused. "Trying to impress your date? She’ a little young for you ain't she?"

His goons laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush.

"She is none of your concern," Elijah replied, his tone sharp.

"Actually, she is. You see, I'm in charge here," the man said, he looked at you and smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Strip. Now. Or I will shoot your sugar daddy in the fucking face,"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"No, no please, we'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt us," you begged, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Clothes. NOW!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at your face.

You hesitated, and he grabbed your hair, yanking you away from Elijah.

"Take off the fucking clothes, or I will kill you both," the man snarled, his breath hot on your face, the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple.

"Alright, alright, don't hurt her," Elijah said, taking off his coat.

"Hurry up," the man snapped, releasing your hair.

You nodded and started to undress, tears streaming down your cheeks. You stripped off your coat and scarf, then pulled off your shirt and pants, shivering as the cold night air hit your bare skin.

You looked at Elijah, who was watching you, his expression unreadable. You could see the muscles in his jaw working, his hands balled into fists.

You were scared, but more than that, you were angry. You hated these men, for the way they were treating you and Elijah, and for the fear and shame they were making you feel.

"There, I'm naked," you said, trying to sound brave.

"Not quite," the man replied, stepping forward. He ran his hands over your body, his fingers rough against your skin, the gun still pressed to your temple.

You flinched, and he chuckled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to rape you," he said, his hand cupping your breast. "You're not my type."

He moved his hand down, stroking your stomach, and then lower, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. You shuddered, and he laughed again.

"But, maybe you'd like a little fun," he whispered, his lips close to your ear.

"That's enough, you've gotten what you wanted, now leave us alone," Elijah demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"It seems your sugar daddy doesn't want to share," the man said, his tone mocking. "He keeps pretending like he's in charge,"

"Please, let us go," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

"No, I think I'm going to keep you," the man replied, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you against his chest.

"You won't harm her," Elijah warned, his eyes blazing.

"Or what?" The man sneered, his fingers digging into your skin.

"I'll kill you," Elijah growled, his voice deadly.

You watched in horror as the other men laughed, raising their guns at Elijah. He didn't even blink, his gaze fixed on the man holding you.

"Is that a threat?" The man asked, his grip on you tightening.

"A promise," Elijah replied, his expression was eerily calm, but his eyes were filled with anger and determination.

The man pressed the barrel of the gun against your skull, the cold metal pressing painfully into your skin. You gasped, and he laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine.

"Walk away, and I'll let her go," the man said, his gaze locked on Elijah.

Elijah looked at you, and his eyes softened.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice soft, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"Yes," you answered, without hesitation.

He smiled, and turned to the man. "Then duck,"

Before the man could respond, Elijah lunged at him, his hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun. The man yelped, and you ducked down, just as Elijah's knee connected with his face. There was a sickening crack, and the man cried out, letting go of the gun.

Elijah caught it before it hit the ground, and other men began firing, hitting Elijah in the chest over and over, but he stood there unfazed, almost bored, like they were annoying pests and nothing more.

One of the men, realizing his bullets were useless, rushed forward and swung a fist, hitting Elijah in the jaw. Elijah didn't budge, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. The man gasped, and tried to pry his hand off, but Elijah's grip was too strong.

You watched in awe as Elijah crushed the man's throat, his expression blank. Then, he threw him aside, the sound of bones snapping echoed in the air.

The other men backed away, their faces pale. Elijah ignored them, taking his leather jacket and putting it over your shoulders, before turning his attention to the leader.

The man was kneeling on the ground, clutching his broken nose. He looked up at Elijah, his eyes wide with fear.

"P-please," the man stammered, holding up his hands. "I'm s-sorry,"

Elijah stared at him, his expression cold. "No you are not,"

He crushed the gun in his hands like it was tissue paper, and grabbed the man by the throat. The man choked, his hands clawing at Elijah's arm.

"I promised you that I would kill you, and I intend to keep my word," Elijah said, his voice devoid of emotion.

You watched in horror as he tightened his grip, and the man's face turned purple. You wanted to look away, but couldn't tear your eyes from the scene.

Elijah's expression was a mixture of rage and hatred, his face was no longer human, he had completely black eyes, with veins snaking across his face, and his teeth were razor sharp, almost fang like.

He snapped the neck with a loud crack, and dropped the man to the ground. The other men backed away further, their guns forgotten, the color drained from their faces.

Elijah looked at them, and smiled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Run," he commanded, his voice dark and deadly.

The men fled, tripping over their own feet, disappearing into the shadows. Elijah turned to look at you, his eyes soft yet completely inhuman.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, unable to speak. You were terrified, but not of him.

"Close your eyes and count to thirty, I'll be right back," he said, and then turned and followed the men.

You watched him run off faster than any human could, and you closed your eyes tightly, hearing screams and cries as he caught the men. You waited, counting down from thirty, and then you heard his footsteps and opened your eyes, his face once again normal, the only hint that he had been a monster moments ago was the blood staining his shirt.

He didn't say a word, just reached out his hand and helped you to your feet. He picked up your clothes and helped you dress, your hands were shaking so badly that you could barely button up your shirt.

When you were dressed, he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close, his warmth enveloping you.

"S-shouldn't we call the cops?" You asked, still in shock.

"There will be no need," he replied, his voice calm and soothing.

You looked at the bodies of the men, and then quickly looked away. Elijah had torn them apart, their limbs twisted and contorted in impossible ways. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, their eyes empty and lifeless.

"You're not human are you?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I'm more human than them," he replied, his grip on you tightening a little. "Let's get out of here, and I'll explain everything."

"Okay," you said, letting him guide you away from the bodies.

You felt numb, and you let him lead you out of the park, your mind struggling to process what had happened. Who was this man? This creature beyond comprehension?

Who had you let into your home?

The sound of the kettle whistling pulled you from the daze you had been in. You were sitting on the sofa, wrapped in multiple blankets, Elijah's coat draped across your lap.

You watched him move about the kitchen, his movements confident and sure.

"Here," he said, handing you a mug of hot tea.

"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.

He sat down next to you, his body close to yours. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.

"But you killed them," you whispered, your eyes watering.

"I did," he confirmed, his voice calm and steady.

"How?" You asked, looking up at him.

"I have... certain abilities," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Abilities that make me stronger, faster, and more dangerous than any human."

You put your mug down on the table and turned to him, studying his face. He was watching you intently, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you... are you an alien?" You asked, a hint of fear in your voice.

He laughed, the sound a pleasant rumble.

"No, I'm not an alien," he assured you.

"What are you then?"

"I'm...well.. I think I'm a vampire," he said, sounding uncertain.

A burst of disbelief mixed with terror erupted within you, and you let out a hysterical laugh.

"Vampire," you repeated, shaking your head. "Like Edward Cullen?"

"I don't know who that is," he said, frowning.

You let out another laugh, your mind reeling. It wasn't possible. Vampires weren't real.

"Y/N," he said, his voice serious. "I know this is a lot to take in, but please believe me. I am a vampire. I can't explain how or why, but it's true."

You let him talk as you grabbed your phone and searched up vampires. Showing it to him, and telling him to look at the search results.

"Sparkle in the sun? Not as far as I am aware," he commented, frowning.

"Holy water? Crucifixes?" You pressed.

"I'm not particularly religious," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Garlic?" You questioned.

"I love garlic," he replied, grinning.

"Can you fly?" You asked, wondering how many myths were true.

"I'm not sure," he said, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I've never tried."

He stood up and did a little hop with his arms raised in the air, like some sort of weird bird. You snorted and covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh.

"No flying," he concluded, sitting back down.

"So, how old are you?" You asked.

"No idea," he said, a sad look on his face.

"Oh my god, what if you are like one hundred years old?" You asked, your mind racing with possibilities.

"Perhaps," he mused.

You paused at the next item on the list of vampire traits, and hesitated before asking.

"And the other thing... blood," you read, your stomach turning at the thought.

"Yes," he admitted, a look of shame crossing his face.

"So, when you went into that warehouse…?" You began, remembering how he had returned, wiping his mouth.

"I was hungry, and I needed to eat," he said, his voice low.

"So you just went and killed someone?" You asked, unable to keep the judgement out of your voice.

"No, he was very much alive, just passed out," he explained.

"And you didn't kill him," you pressed, not entirely convinced.

"I didn't," he insisted.

"But what if you did? What if the next time you went to get some 'sustenance' you did actually kill them?" You asked, starting to panic.

"Y/N," he said softly, taking your hand. "I would never hurt you,"

You looked at his face, searching for any signs that he was lying. But his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity, and a hint of sadness. His gaze drifted to your lips, and his expression changed, becoming softer, and a little more intimate.

You quickly looked away, back to the list of vampire facts, and cleared your throat.

"Mind control," you read, and felt his gaze linger on you.

"Not to my knowledge," he replied.

"You can't enter a house without being invited," you continued, and his hand tightened around yours.

"Is that a request, or a demand?" He asked, his tone playful.

"It's a question," you countered, blushing slightly.

"Yes, but most invite me in without hesitation," he said, giving your hand a light squeeze. "You did,"

"Oh," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

Your eyes went back to the mind control section, and a thought crossed your mind.

"Have you used mind control on me?" You asked, a sense of unease washing over you.

"I don't know," he admitted. "If I have, I'm not aware of it."

"Oh," you mumbled, not knowing what to say, but curiosity got the better of you. "Try to, make me do something,"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, something harmless," you said, thinking for a moment. "Make me sing a song,"

"Very well," he agreed, looking thoughtful.

You waited, expecting to start singing. But nothing happened.

"Do you feel any different?" He asked.

"No, nothing," you said, disappointed.

"I don't know what else to suggest," he said, a frown marring his features.

"I don't know, look me in the eye and tell me to do it? Like... Tell yourself you can do it? I don't know… maybe it's a belief thing…?" you offered.

He nodded, and then turned to look directly at you. His dark eyes were intense, and his lips curved into a smile.

"Sing me a song, sweet girl," he said, his voice echoing strangely in your mind.

You told yourself not to sing, to sit quietly and not react. You repeated it over and over, until the words were all that was in your head.

But his voice seeped into the ribbons of your brain, dancing behind your eyes. You lost your awareness of time and space, and suddenly, a melody rose up from within you.

You opened your mouth and the words came tumbling out, and you started singing an old song that had been stuck in your head for days.

Elijah sat back and looked surprised, a small smile on his lips. You stopped singing, your face flushing in embarrassment.

"Holy shit," you gasped, a strange sensation creeping through your mind, like cobwebs being blown away. "It worked,".

"You have a lovely voice," he said, his tone gentle and kind.

"How did you do that?" You asked, feeling unnerved.

"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I just believed that I could, and you did as I asked,"

You suddenly stood up, tossing the blankets off of you and heading to your wine rack.

"I need a drink," you declared, and picked a random bottle.

You poured yourself a generous amount, and drank it all in one gulp. Then poured yourself another glass. You looked over at him, and noticed the way his eyes followed the glass as it reached your lips.

"Do you want some?" You asked, the wine giving you courage.

"No, thank you," he replied.

You sat back down on the sofa, and took a long sip. Thinking about all the possibilities of what his vampire status meant.

"Could you mind control my mortgage payments away?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Possibly," he said, smiling a little.

"Could you use your super speed to clean my apartment?" You teased, taking another sip.

"You're not thinking big enough," he replied, his grin growing wider. "I would love to leave this city, find a home in a new town and live a normal life."

"I'm not sure normal is something you could ever be," you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"You might have a point," he conceded, his tone wistful.

He pointed to the artwork on your walls, you had purchased them at Ikea ages ago. They were those generic wanderlust posters of different famous travel destinations.

"Pick one," he said.

"What?"

"I'll take you there," he offered, his voice soft.

"Seriously?"

"I owe you so much, I think this is the least I can do," he replied.

You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his offer. Was he for real? Was he really willing to take you around the world?

"Paris," you blurted out, a blush rising to your cheeks. "I've always wanted to go,"

"Paris it is," he agreed, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Really?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

"Absolutely," he said, his tone sincere. "I would love nothing more than to take you."

"That's so sweet," you gushed, your face heating up even more.

"So, Paris?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding your head.

"Then we will leave first thing in the morning," he said, his expression brightening.

"But I have work... I need to take time off-" you started to say.

"Forget about all of that," he cut you off, his tone gentle. "I can mind control people, remember? I'll just take care of everything,"

You laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting you. He was a vampire, who had mind control powers, and was offering to take you on a trip to Paris.

"This is insane," you giggled, feeling slightly hysterical.

"Indeed," he agreed, grinning.

You finished your wine and set the glass down on the coffee table. His proximity was starting to make you feel hot, and a little giddy.

"So," you began, trying to distract yourself. "I guess I'll go pack my bags,"

"I can buy you anything we need when we arrive," he suggested.

"Are we gonna fly? Like on a plane?"

"I was thinking that I could just jump really hard and we can just land in Paris," he said, a serious expression on his face.

"Oh shut up," you giggled, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.

He chuckled and shook his head.

You smiled and sat back, taking a moment to reflect on the day's events. It had been an emotional roller coaster, and your head was still reeling from the revelation that vampires were real, and sitting in your apartment. But the prospect of a trip to Paris made your heart flutter with joy.

"I can't believe I'm going to Paris," you said, letting out a happy sigh.

"We," he corrected, smiling.

"We," you echoed, a warm feeling spreading through you and a huge grin appearing on your face.

This was going to be the best vacation ever.

France was just as magical as you imagined it would be. Elijah took you to the most luxurious hotel in the city, and ordered a feast fit for royalty. The food was incredible, the atmosphere romantic, and the company... Well the company was a bit odd.

The vampire man, who could control humans with his mind, who had saved you from being mugged, and who was now whisking you around the world, was a little hard to ignore.

What was harder to ignore was the raging jealousy you felt every time someone flirted with him. He was like a magnet for hot people of all kinds, and they would flock to him like moths to a flame.

It was ridiculous really. How they would throw themselves at him, practically begging him to fuck them, and he would politely decline. You felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that no matter how good looking they were, no matter how talented their tongue, his attention belonged to you.

You were currently strolling along the Seine, admiring the sights, when you noticed a group of young women watching Elijah.

"They're looking at you," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Elijah didn't bother looking up from his guidebook, but a smirk spread across his lips.

"I'm sure they are," he replied, sounding amused.

"Why are girls so obsessed with you?" You asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I have been told I'm... As the young say these days, a snack," he said, laughing at his own joke.

You couldn't help but snort and laugh along with him. He was a complete dork sometimes, and it made him all the more endearing.

He looked over at you and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had been feeding from plenty of tourists, much healthier blood than the people he found on the streets of New York. His complexion was no longer the sickly grey it had been. Now he looked healthier, his skin glowing, and his eyes shining.

"Do you think I'm a snack?" He asked, his tone playful.

"I think you're an entire six course meal," you replied, trying to sound cool.

"Is that so?" He asked, an eyebrow raising.

You flushed and looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Why were you acting like such a teenager?

"Yeah," you murmured, fidgeting with your jacket zipper.

"Perhaps you'd like a bite," he said, his voice low and inviting.

"Oh stop it," you groaned, pushing him playfully.

"No seriously, I've seen how you look at me. You want to sink your teeth into me," he teased, giving you a wink.

"That's you, Mr. Vampire," you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.

He grinned and reached for your hand, taking it in his and bringing it to his lips.

Your heart rate increased, and your cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you quickly pulled away.

"You're such a flirt," you finally managed, shaking your head. "I bet if you kissed the hand of one of those girls over there, they would swoon right into the river,"

"I could," he agreed, looking at the group of young women.

The group of girls noticed him looking and they quickly began giggling and whispering amongst themselves. One of the girls waved at him and he waved back, his expression playful.

You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He seemed much happier here in Europe than he did back home, and his smile was infectious.

"See, they are already falling over themselves for you," you laughed.

One of the girls broke off from the group and walked up to Elijah. She was stunning, with long blonde hair, and big brown eyes. She said something to him in French, and he laughed and responded.

When you landed in France, Elijah could speak French perfectly. He didn't even notice he was doing it until you called him out on it. Making you both wonder just how much knowledge was locked away inside his mind.

You couldn't understand what they were saying, but the conversation seemed lighthearted. He took your hand and kissed it again, before saying something else to the girl.

She giggled and looked at you, giving you a wide smile. "Zhou are very lucky to 'ave such a fine 'usband."

You were shocked by her words, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Oh, we're not married," you stammered, shaking your head.

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raising. "'E is zee lover?"

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. The idea of Elijah being your lover was too ridiculous to consider. But before you could correct her again, he spoke up.

"Oui, je suis votre amant," he purred, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

Your stomach clenched at his words, and your mind struggled to come up with a response.

"Oui, oui, très romantique," the girl giggled, giving you a knowing look. "I'll let you get back to your 'oneymoon,"

She waved at you, and you awkwardly waved back.You watched her join her friends, who all began whispering and giggling again, the blonde fanning herself dramatically and clutching her chest.

"Did you just tell her that we were lovers?" You asked, turning to look at him.

His lips twitched into a faint smile, though he avoided meeting your gaze. “I thought it might discourage her interest.”

Your irritation faltered, replaced by something warmer. “She’s beautiful, Elijah. Why wouldn’t you want her attention?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the cobblestones. When he finally looked up, his dark eyes were steady but uncertain. “Because she’s not you.”

The world seemed to tilt, the bustling streets fading into silence. You stared at him, your chest tight.

“Elijah...” you began, but whatever you were about to say was lost as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.

It was soft at first, hesitant, as though he were unsure if he was doing it right. But when you responded, your hands gripping his coat, your lips parting for him, his hesitation melted away. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

The sound of giggles broke the spell, and you pulled back, breathless and flushed. The group of girls was watching you, their laughter light and teasing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Elijah’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Was that... acceptable?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You laughed softly, your hand sliding to his jaw. “More than acceptable.”

Relief flickered across his face, though his cheeks were still flushed. “I wasn’t sure if I...” He trailed off, his uncertainty palpable.

“You were perfect,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

His lips curved into a small smile, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the city alive around you but forgotten in the haze of the moment.

"That was my first kiss," he said with a small laugh.

You smiled, your hand cupping his cheek, tracing along his jawline. Taking in his handsome face, his deep brown eyes, his soft lips. You wanted more, you wanted it all.

"I have a strong feeling you've done that plenty of times before, you just don't remember," you teased, your gaze darting to his lips.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his fingers gently caressing your sides.

"Perhaps," he conceded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You stood on your tiptoes, and leaned in close, your lips inches away from his.

"Maybe I should refresh your memory," you said, your voice soft and flirty, "Back at our hotel,"

"Yes," he agreed, his smile growing wider. "And after, perhaps we could discuss this 'lover' business further,"

You snorted and playfully hit him on the shoulder, and his deep, sexy laugh echoed through the streets of Paris.

"Shut up, you are so cheesy," you giggled, your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin was.

He took your hand and kissed the top, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Let's go," he said, his voice warm and full of promise.

The two of you rushed down the street, and headed back to the hotel. The possibilities running through your head, making your heart pound with excitement.

Paris was already the most romantic place on earth, but now, with Elijah by your side, it was about to become unforgettable.

It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you were feeling more than a little pent up. It also didn't help that Elijah was stupidly hot and a complete gentleman.

You had fantasized about him multiple times since the moment you met, and now the opportunity to make those dreams a reality was right in front of you.

You wondered what having sex with a vampire would be like, would he use his fangs? Would he be gentle or rough? You shivered, the thought exciting you more than it should.

The two of you rode the elevator up to your room in silence, both of you trying not to rush, but the tension was thick. He was holding your hand, and when the doors opened, you both hurried down the hall.

You let out a squeal as he scooped you up before you reached the door, carrying you the rest of the way. He used his supernatural speed, and before you could register what was happening, he was already kicking the door open and stepping inside.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the excitement coursing through your veins. He gently placed you on the bed, and you let out a soft gasp as he crawled over you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and soft.

You could feel the blush spreading across your face, and the heat pooling in your core. He kissed your neck, and you let out a soft moan.

"I confess I haven't done this before," he murmured against your skin, his hands caressing your sides.

"I really doubt that," you said with a laugh, your voice breathless. "Have you seen yourself? Whoever you were before you lost your memories... He was a ladies man, I can guarantee it,"

He laughed and shook his head, slowly unbuttoning your dress.

"I suppose I'll just have to rely on my instincts," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.

And those instincts... were impeccable.

His hands were warm and gentle on your bare skin, his lips soft and teasing. He took his time taking off your dress, savoring the moment, until you were finally lying beneath him, completely naked.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your face. His eyes were dark and hungry, and you were desperately trying to keep your cool. But it was nearly impossible, especially with his perfect body looming over you.

You leaned up and kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. He chuckled, helping you remove his clothing. Your fingers traced along his firm chest, and down his arms, enjoying the feel of his skin.

You could tell he was a little nervous, his movements slow and tentative. He avoided your gaze, but kept glancing at you. A slight blush crept up his cheeks, and he let out a soft sigh.

"I do not wish to disappoint you," he confessed. "I fear I may fail at this task,"

You cupped his cheek, and gave him a soft smile.

"It's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle. "We'll figure it out together,"

He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You kissed him, trying to help him relax, and he returned the gesture with a little more confidence.

You gently guided his hands to where you wanted them, showing him what made you feel good. His fingers gently brushed over your slit, and a soft moan escaped you. He looked a little surprised, but his lips curved into a faint smile.

He began to explore, his thumb circling your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, and you found yourself arching into his touch.

"Like this?" He asked, his voice soft and teasing.

"Mhm," you murmured, a blissful smile on your lips.

He kissed your neck, and you could feel his fangs brushing against your skin. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through you, and a soft moan slipped out.

His fingers eased inside you, curling just right, and you couldn't help but gasp. He let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

"I take it that's the right spot?" He teased, his voice low and seductive.

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding your head.

"What a pretty little sound," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, and he continued his gentle assault on your senses. His fingers worked you slowly, and his lips on yours felt divine.

The heat was rising, and you could feel the pressure building inside you. His thumb teased your clit, and his fingers stroked you just right. Your hips rocked against his hand, and he let out a soft hum of approval.

"Elijah," you moaned, your voice low and breathless.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

"I'm so close," you panted, your nails digging into his skin.

"Go on," he urged, his fingers increasing their pace.

Your breath caught in your throat, your legs trembling. The heat was almost unbearable, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. You closed your eyes, lost in the sensation, and then it was crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you with a bit of wonder in his gaze. You flushed, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat in his eyes, and you knew he was enjoying this as much as you were.

When the aftershocks finally faded, he gently withdrew his fingers, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and a sense of need overtook you.

You splayed your hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back, straddling him, and giving him a good view of your body.

He looked up at you with wide eyes, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. He was gorgeous, and you felt a surge of pride knowing that he was yours.

Your hands were moving steadily downward, and when they reached his belt, you slowly started unbuckling it.

His breathing was getting heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you touched him through his boxers. He let out a low groan, his hands reaching for your hips, pulling you closer.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal pressing against your core. His eyes were hooded, and his breathing was ragged. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his thick cock springing free.

"My my," you said with a smirk, taking his length in your hands and stroking him gently. "Is this all for me?"

He groaned, his hips rocking forward, eager for more contact.

"All yours," he panted, his voice low and husky.

You could see the desire in his eyes, the need burning within him. And as his fingers dug into your hips, guiding you into position, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his length, hissing as he stretched and filled you.

"Oh," you moaned, your head tilting back as he bottomed out.

He was big, and it had been awhile, you reached out for him, and he sat up and took your hands, kissing each one.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his tone soft and concerned.

"Yes," you breathed, your eyes meeting his. "You feel really good,"

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and his fingers caressed the small of your back, gently encouraging you to move.

You began rocking your hips, slowly at first, and then building up to a steady pace. You were panting, the friction delicious, and he was gripping your hips tightly, his own movements matching yours.

The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the bed creaking beneath you, the headboard tapping against the wall. The scent of sex and desire permeating the air.

You could feel the flush spreading across your cheeks, and the heat building inside you. He was hitting all the right spots, and the look on his face was making you even more turned on.

He was watching you with such intensity, his gaze focused on your expression. Every time you moaned, or shuddered in pleasure, his lips would curve into a satisfied smirk, and his grip would tighten on your hips.

You were close, the pressure coiling within you, and you could tell he was close too. His movements were becoming more frantic, and his breathing was coming in short gasps.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responded eagerly, pushing you backwards, and pinning you beneath him. He gripped your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.

You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and then you felt his fangs brush against your neck, and that was all it took.

The pressure released, waves of pleasure washing over you, and you cried out, your legs shaking. He groaned, his movements becoming erratic, and then he was spilling himself inside you, his cock throbbing and twitching.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot on your neck, and his skin slick with sweat. Your fingers gently traced along his spine, and he let out a satisfied hum.

He rolled off of you, and laid down beside you, his hand reaching for yours. You laid on your side, and intertwined your fingers with his, a content smile on your lips.

"That was amazing," you breathed, letting out a soft laugh.

He chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut.

"I agree," he murmured, his tone soft and sleepy.

You gently kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and his lips. He smiled, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful.

You had never seen him like this before, and it made your heart swell. You couldn't help but lean forward and place a kiss on his chest, right above his heart.

You scooted closer, resting your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I love you," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing along his collarbone.

He stirred slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You smiled, snuggling against him, and letting the warmth of his body lull you to sleep.

It had been a long, strange journey, and there were still so many questions left unanswered, but in that moment, none of that mattered.

All that mattered was the man next to you, and the promise of what the future held.

[ofgoldandbraid]

my favourite distraction

lilia x reader

(here’s an amazing patti photo)

an / this is the first thing i’ve written in english and posted, please bear with me! sorry if it’s terrible :(

notes: absolute filth; oral (r receiving); biting; teasing; lilia being the most amazing person ever

a loud sigh from the corner of your kitchen interrupted your focus.

« lilia, what do you want? » you looked over your shoulder and shouted in her direction.

« oh, nothing, » she says, blowing the damp curls on her face out of the way with a huff.

behind you, lilia calderu was grinning to herself. her plans for you tonight were grand.

« cut the shit, what’s up? » you turn to give her your full attention, only to see her smirk at you.

« honey, i’m feeling a little lonely, » lilia pouted, walking closer to you and giving you those eyes.

you turned back to the book on the counter, still stuck in the same line you were reading when you were interrupted.

« i’m right here, » you replied flatly. lilia huffed again. you could practically feel her roll her eyes. «  and i’m busy. »

you feel a hand on the back of your neck, pulling your hair up and off of it.

« alright, » she whispered against your neck. « i’ll just die over here waiting for you to let me give you some attention. »

you sighed dramatically, walking away and dropping onto the couch as you screamed into one of the handmade throw pillows.

« aw, what’s the matter, honey? » she laughed, following you into the sitting room. « what’s got you so… worked up? »

« lilia, » you whined, drawing out the last syllable. « i didn’t see your pretty neck until you put your hair up. »

lilia walked over to you, lacing her fingers through your hair and lightly tugging.

the moan that escaped you was humiliating.

« oh, love. you’re all mine, you know it? » she murmured, her lips getting closer and closer to your face.

« you suck, » you murmured against her.

« what the hell do you mean? » lilia questioned, cocking an eyebrow as she tightened her grip on your hair.

you leaned closer to her, wanting more.

« you, mhm, » you moaned as she tugged once more. « you keep fucking teasing me. »

she lowered herself on the couch next to you and placed her free hand dangerously close to your inner thigh.

« honey, i don’t have to follow your rules. i can do whatever i want to you. » she kissed you hard, tongue on yours, teeth into your lips.

she pulled back and shoved your roaming hands off of her breasts.

« and i know you’ll love it. you’re so easy, angel. »

she moved her mouth down, licking and sucking your skin until she reached your collarbone.

« may i? » lilia asked, moving her hand from your thigh to mess with the low neckline of your shirt.

« please, » you moan, shoving yourself towards her in a desperate attempt to relieve even the smallest bit of tension.

she laughed lowly, slowly moving her hand you your throat as she lowered herself and bit down on the exposed top of your breast.

« fuck, lilia, » you croak.

she looks up at you, grinning as she removes her mouth. you groan.

« did i hurt you, my love? » she asked, holding your cheek.

 « no, but you are now. please, i need you. » you bucked your hips involuntarily, an act that made lilia pout mockingly.

« is my angel desperate? does my darling want something from me? » she looked at you with a smile across her face as she lowered back down to your chest.

« yes, » the strangled noise left your mouth right as she ripped the shirt off of your torso.

« y/n, what did you say you wanted to do to my neck? » she finished her sentence with a low grunt as you shoved your thigh between both of hers.

« i didn’t say it, » you said as lilia moved herself impossibly close, straddling you. « but all i could think about was marking you. showing everyone how much i love you. biting you all over your neck and hips and thighs. »

she ground into you, moaning into your breasts.

« i thought i was the needy one, » you playfully poked her on the nose.

« shut up, » she said as she repositioned herself over you.

suddenly, you were cold. when you looked down at yourself, your clothes were gone.

shivering, you reached up to her and held her face.

« you’re so beautiful, » lilia whispered as she trailed her hands down to rest them on your breasts.

she ran her thumbs over your nipples, laughing to herself as you writhed underneath her.

« okay, okay. i’ll stop teasing you, honey, » she laughed against you as she slid off you and lowered between your legs.

she grabbed your thighs and held them apart, looking at your dripping sex as her pupils blew.

« all this and i’ve hardly touched you, » lilia said against you, her breath cooling your heat down.

« stop it, » you moaned as she blew on your pussy. « you bit my tit, how could i not be dying for you? »

she smirked at you as she swiped through your wetness with her index and middle fingers.

« fuck, lilia, » you whimpered, holding her head with your hands tangled in her hair.

« i know, baby, i know, » she murmured against you, impossibly close to your cunt. « suck, » lilia ordered, shoving her fingers into your mouth.

you obliged, licking her fingers clean of your arousal.

« you’re such a good girl for me, » she said, leaning forward and licking a long stripe up you.

you threw your head back into a loud moan, finally getting what you desired the most.

but just as quickly as you felt that relief, it was taken away. lilia pulled back, instead giving her attention to your inner thighs. she bit down, the sting causing tears to prick your eyes.

« is this okay? » she questioned, running her hands from your hips to knees, then back up again.

you groan at her, furious that she’d stop the moment she started.

lilia’s hands pulled your knees over her shoulders as she got closer to you again.

her licks were deep and firm, and you shook at the intensity of her that you had never seem to have experienced before.

quickly, you began to feel a tightness, a heat in you. your thighs tensed around lilia’s head.

« you wanna suffocate me, baby? » she said between the strong strokes of her tongue and the little kisses on your inner thighs.

you pushed her head back into you, impossibly close, muttering incomplete thoughts under your breath and soon babbling as she increased the speed of her flat licks and sucks.

you held her head between your thighs, ready to come, but she slowed to a near stop.

« lilia? » you whispered, tears threatening to roll down your face at the pain of your stolen orgasm.

she exhaled onto you and moved to the curve of your neck.

her vagary shocked you, frustrated you, and terrified you. had you done something wrong?

« honey, your thoughts are loud, » she emphasized her sentence with a nip to your jaw.

you squeezed your eyes shut, unbearably needy.

lilia put her hands to the side of your face, pushing them up to tangle them in your hair, her thumbs stroking under your eyes as she caught the escaped tears.

« oh, you’re shaking. momma left you all desperate, » she stuck out her bottom lip as your eyes shot wide open at her sentence.

your squirming grew more intense and lilia laughed at you.

« okay, okay, » she sighed into your collarbone as she brought her hands from your head to your sensitive breasts again.

« please, » you choked, tears stinging your flushed face.

she quickly returned to her former position between your twitching legs, and without warning, resumed her hard and fast paced licks.

like a switch, you felt closer than you’d ever felt before, teetering on the edge.

suddenly, she moaned into you, and with a strong vibration on your swollen clit, you came. lilia stared into your eyes as you shook and held her in place, soaking her face.

she licked you through your orgasm, and when you finally slowed your shaking, she grabbed your hands.

« you’re so good for me, aren’t you? » she sat her chin in your thigh, smiling at you as she ran her nails across your palm.

you managed to release a strangled « mm ».

lilia stood up and sat next to you, wrapping her arms around your cold frame and stroking your hair again.

« we should do this more often, » she mused before she bit into your bare shoulder. « here we go again…»

[soombee]

ଳ⋆｡˚𖦹 caught in the current of you — 09 , checkmate !!

warnings ! angst!! decision making!! (LOL)

word count , 1433 / 1.4k words

lf = looking for , i was sooo excited for this chapter to come finally heheehehe… also SORRY IF THIS FEELS FORCED LOLL.. i literally HATE slowburn so much……

9:18 pm — outside a cafe

leehan’s head leaned against the wall near the coffee shop, scrolling through his phone. his last message to you was still unread by you, and his irritation grew with every passing minute

he knew he’d been acting differently lately—sharper, colder—but he couldn’t help it. seeing his ex best friend openly flirt with you on twitter, seeing how much you smiled at his comments, had his jealousy running wild

the bell above the door jingled, and there you were, walking out with taesan by your side, laughing at something he said. he held the door open for you, and leehan’s stomach twisted

“leehan?” your voice broke through his thoughts. you looked surprised to see him, your smile faltering slightly, “what are you doing here?”

“waiting,” he said shortly, shoving his phone into his pocket as he glares at the black haired man beside you

“for who?”

“for you.”

taesan smirked at him, the smugness in his expression barely hidden, not like he wanted to hide it,

“didn’t know you’d be here” taesan said

“i can see that.” leehan’s tone was flat, his eyes flicking between the two of you

“leehan,” you said softly, sensing the tension, “you okay?”

“yeah, fine.” his words were sharp, clipped. too sharp. you frowned

“really? you’ve been acting weird lately..”

“i’m not the one acting weird,” he snapped, his jealousy finally boiling over. “but hey, maybe you and taesan should sort that out since you seem so close these days?”

your jaw dropped, hurt flashing across your face. taesan, to his credit, stayed silent, though his gaze was glued to Leehan with a mixture of anger and disappointment

“are you serious right now?” you asked, your voice trembling. “you’re mad because taesan’s my friend? because he’s kind to me?”

leehan opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. he hated how defensive he sounded, how he was ruining everything just because he couldn’t handle his own feelings, how he couldn’t even express his feelings

“really?” you said, stepping closer to him, “do you SERIOUSLY think this is what I want? to be caught between the two of you? do you think I enjoy this?”

the blond’s silence was deafening, you shook your head

“oh my god leehan, i can’t do this anymore,” you said, your voice becoming firmer by the second, “you’re so worried about what taesan’s doing, you don’t even see me. he does. he makes me feel seen. and right now, that’s what I need.”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut. he watched as you turned to taesan, who gave him one last look—an unspoken “you did this to yourself” written all over his face—before placing a hand on your back and guiding you away

for the first time, leehan realized he wasn’t just losing you to taesan. he had lost you because of himself

9:30 pm — taesan took you to see the stars

the cold evening breeze nipped at your skin as you walked beside taesan, the streets quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves. your sweater wasn’t doing much to shield you from the chill, and you shivered involuntarily—so embarrassing..

“youre freezing,” he murmured, stopping in his tracks. before you could protest, he was already tugging his own hoodie over his head, his white t-shirt riding up slightly to reveal a glimpse of his toned abdomen

“oh my gyatt, lord save me #ovulating..”

“taesan, seriously, i’m fine—”

“just take it,” he insisted, gently draping the hoodie over your shoulders. the warmth was immediate, and so was the lingering scent of him—clean, with a faint hint of cologne, “i’d rather me be sick than you”

as you adjusted it around yourself, his hands lightly brushed yours, lingering for a moment too long. when you looked up, his dark eyes were searching your face, his expression soft but resolute

“yn,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “there’s something I need to tell you”

you swallowed hard, already guessing where this was going…

“i didn’t plan for this,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “but i can’t keep it to myself anymore. i like you. more than a friend should”

the words hung in the air, heavy but not unwelcome. his confession felt genuine, raw, unpolished in a way that made your heart ache, this was real

“i know this is complicated,” he continued, his voice faltering slightly, “‘specially with…everything else. but I needed you to know how I feel, think you’re the only person i’ve ever been comfortable to be me around..”

you were about to respond when your phone buzzed in your pocket. the sound cut through the moment like a blade, and you fumbled to check the notification

it was a text—from your neighbor,

“hello young lady, i think someone outside your house. he’s been sitting there for a while. do you know him? he has blonde hair”

your stomach dropped

“taesan,” you said, your voice tight, “i—i need to go.”

his brows furrowed, concern flickering across his face, “everything okay?”

you nodded quickly, pecking his cheek before stepping back “yeah, i just… i’ll text you later, okay?”

“i—“ he touched his cheek, hesitated but nodded, “okay... b—be safe”

9:48 pm — your house

when you arrived home, your neighbor’s warning made sense immediately. sitting on the steps to your door, with a box and a folded envelope beside him, was leehan. his head was bowed, his hair slightly messy as though he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly

the sight of him knocked the air out of your lungs

“leehan?” you called softly, your voice carrying through the quiet night

he looked up, startled. the instant his eyes met yours, something in his expression shifted—vulnerability, regret, desperation, all tangled together

“you’re home,” he said, standing quickly and brushing off his jeans. “i—i didn’t mean to stay this long. i just… i wasn’t sure how else to do this.. confessing thingy..”

you glanced at his occupied hands, your heart pounding, “what’s this?”

“a mess, probably,” he said with a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “i didnt know how to tell you everything i’ve been feeling without stuttering at the sight of you so I wrote it down. and the gifts… they’re just things that made me think of you… stupid, right haha..” gosh he just couldn’t stop babbling

you shook your head, overwhelmed, “donghyun…”

he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours, “i’m sorry, yn. for everything. for being distant, for being jealous, for making you feel like you weren’t enough when you’ve always been too much—in the best way of course”

your throat tightened as he continued, “i don’t deserve you. i know that, but i can’t let you go without even trying”

the weight of his confession pressed against your chest, and you glanced down at the box and letter again, unsure of what to say

“please,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly, “just… read the letter, and if you still don’t want me after that, i’ll leave you alone. i promise.”

10:44 pm — long after the mess..

you sit at your desk, leehan’s playlist softly playing in the background with his letter unfolded in front of you as taesan’s hoodie draped around your shoulders. the warmth of it is a stark contrast to the chill you feel inside

leehan’s words replay in your mind: “i don’t deserve you… but i can’t let you go without trying.”

and then taesan’s quiet confession from earlier: “I like you. more than a friend should”

your chest feels heavy, torn between the two men

leehan—the boy who frustrated you to no end but also knew you better than anyone else, even in his flaws or taesan—the boy who made you feel seen, who offered a warmth that felt effortless and pure

the two paths stretch in front of you, pulling at your heart in opposite directions

* ding !! * ding !!

you jump, glancing at your phone to see two notifications:

#plottingon (leehan) : did you read the letter? it’s everything i’ve been meaning tell you.. well, some of it.. i had to rush it..

majestic shyt (taesan) : i’m sorry if the confession felt forced, i promise you i’ll tell you more whenever you’re ready, please come and talk to me if you ever feel any discomfort

your heart pounds in your ears. this is it. this is your move.

who do you choose?

do you choose to stay with kim leehan?

or..

do you choose to create a new future with han taesan?

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taglist (open) ! @saintriots @yourmyst4r @sftsohee @httpenhoon @alisonyus @astrae4 @lynnimini @enhacolor @mari3s @voikiraz @yveol @sol3chu @saritahwang @kazemiya @kamfaye @meoriapeuda99 @1starqi

[alextydaisuda123]

So I decided to just sketch, why, I don't know. But then I was hit by a wave of Weirdcore on YouTube, and I realized that I wanted to draw something about the theme of my AU Weirdcore Tower. It also coincided that I had a bad headache (I passed out for 4-5 hours). And one thought came to my mind. Diseases. Yes, again, well, sorry, I just like such topics, and I also had some thoughts on this matter. Well, it's no secret that in Weirdcore Tower there are not only strange and frightening locations, but also events related to the inhabitants of this tower themselves. One of such events is diseases. These four (PM, Vigi, Noise and Noisette) can get sick. They can get sick from anything and each one will have different symptoms and consequences. But everyone has the same pain.

Pepperman

If he gets sick, expect that he will start to hide his illness at first, because he is AFRAID of getting sick. His body will start to melt like a piece of butter, his body will start to heat up and to the touch he will also be as hot as a boiling kettle. Black liquid will flow from his eyes abundantly without stopping, and he can go completely blind. Also, his arms and legs will slightly look like tangled threads due to tension and pain.

Vigilante

If you thought that because of his "ghostly" nature he will get sick less, then no. He does not like to get sick. His symptoms are as follows. His body will seem heavier than before and everything will get to the point that he can simply fall to the floor and spread out like slime. He will not be able to get up and fly and he will simply stick to the floor. And he will also have a terrible smell, like a rotten body or a moldy product. At least he will not hide that he is ill, the smell will still give him away.

Noise

Who hates being sick even more is Noise. At this moment, he is overcome by unbearable pain. Every step, every touch and every movement will bring him pain, as if he is walking on knives or being pierced non-stop by thousands of needles. It hurts him even to stand or lie down, although he does nothing. It happened that Noise tried to endure the pain and try to prolong the show, but it was unbearable and brought even more torment.

Noisette

With this poor thing, the symptoms are no better. From her mouth and under the buttons, a black liquid begins to flow non-stop, from which she will not be able to say anything. It feels like everything inside her is trying to get out. This also spoils her taste buds and sense of smell (she will find everything she eats or smells disgusting, even her own food). As for smells, she will also be irritated by the smell of the environment, which no nose can sense. At some point, she will cough up her "bloody" filler, but this happens rarely, and if she does not strain herself too much to cough up the black liquid. There will also be stages of dizziness. Well, as I said, the consequences after the disease are also unpleasant: PM will remain blind after the disease (vision will return over time), and his body temperature will still be hot; Vigi will remain with an unpleasant temporary smell; Noise will continue to experience pain, but will resume movement; Noisette will be silent for some time and smell unpleasant odors. That's how it is, phew. And yes, if anyone has a question about whether Bruno and PH can get sick, then no. In general, they are not adapted to diseases.

[obeymefanfiction]

Mammon: Break'n

Obey Me! Fanfiction (Aug 2020) See my Masterlist Featuring: Mammon x Female Reader Word Count: 1700 Warnings: NSFW, Drama & High Emotional Tension “Mammon, let go.” You snapped unsuccessfully trying to free your wrist from his grasp. “Not yet.” Mammon replied pulling you toward his room. His room was the last place you wanted to be right now. This was one of the few places where he felt comfortable acting ‘familiar’ with you. One of the places he didn’t pretend you were “just some human” Lucifer assigned him to protect. It wasn’t fair. Not after what just happened. “I mean it! Let go of my arm!” You started pulling back more earnestly and his grip slipped. For just a moment you felt only cool air against your skin. You felt both excited and disappointed at the same time as you brusquely changed direction. heading instead for your own room. This was what you wanted right? To get away from him? So, he couldn’t see that this time his words hurt you? So, why were your stupid eyes burning like you wanted to cry? Then two strong arms scooped you up and Mammon lifted you off your feet.

“Mammon!” You shouted, more surprised than scared. He didn’t reply. He only shifted his hold on you so he was carrying you bridal style in front of him. He quickly reached his door and kicked it closed behind him. “Put me d-down!” You yelped just as he dropped you onto the couch. You scrambled back to your feet, not quite ready to give up on escaping. However, when you headed back toward the door he blocked the way. “No! Don’t run! Just yell at me or whatever you have to do! But don’t walk out!” His expression was so conflicted. Not nearly as determined as his actions. The contrast was unsettling. “I’d rather you were mad at me right here.” “I don’t want to be right here!” You attempted to move past him but he always seemed to be right in your way. “Mammon!” You finally shouted at him in exasperation. He winced but only retreated enough to stand in front of the door, looking unwilling to move at any cost. “If you’re not goin’ ta keep yelling then I guess ya need ta listen.” He said looking more broken hearted than you felt. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, . Okay? I hurt ya! I’m an ass! And I’m sorry!” “If you’re sorry then let me leave!” He shook his head. “No, cause ya don’t believe me! Ya gotta believe me first! Even if ya still want ta kick my ass for what I said. Ya gotta believe I hate that I said it.” “Why should I believe you when you say it all the time?” You countered with a glare. “‘I’m just protectin’er, cause Lucifer said to! She’s just some human. She don’t matter ta me.’ and all that after you put your tongue down my throat this morning? That’s bullshit Mammon!” Despite your angry words the tears were escaping, hindering your retort with a sad sniffle at the end. “Awe shit! I’m—shit.” He pulled you into his arms giving you one of his best hugs ever. Why were his hugs the best? It really sucked that you liked them so much. His gentle hand was rubbing your back soothingly. “I’m such an ass . Why the hell did ya even let me near ya when I’m such an ass?” “You’re not an ass… you were just acting like one.” You sighed.

Why did his feelings always have to outweigh your anger? Just looking at that defeated expression was derailing how furious you'd just been. You knew Mammon’s emotional baggage could down an airliner, and possibly even swamp a cruise ship. If he was owning up to his actions with you, then you needed to be careful. As hurt as you were by what happened, you knew his denials about your relationship stemmed from a much deeper hurt than Mammon ever admitted. If you weren’t careful with the situation you would be driving a steam roller over the trust you’d built between the two of you. You’d promised yourself not to hurt him like that. “Great, now I feel like even more of an ass to have you defending me after I made you cry. Shit. Where’s Lucifer? I’m sure he’d be willing to kick my ass for you.” “No.” You sighed. “How about you just apologize for being stupid and tell me the truth. Are you embarrassed that I’m… with you?” “Hell no! It’s you that should be embarrassed. Its me doin’an’sayin’ stupid things. I mean your… just amazin’ _.” His words made you look at him. The pain you saw in those beautiful eyes felt as though you were the one being cut. Like you were the one being punched in the gut. When had his pain become what hurt you the most? Maybe when his happiness had become what made you the most happy? You honestly didn’t know. “I feel like I’m going to wake up tomorrow and you’ll have found someone better’n me. I hate that feeling. And it feels even worse to think they all might start laughin’ at me on top of watchin’ me lose you. It just makes me feel like Cerberus is about to run me down and eat me.” He sighed. “Mammon.” You sighed and wrapped your arms around him. “Guess what? That’s why I get scared when you say stuff like that.” “Whad’ya mean?” You knew you’d have to put this into words or he would understand. He’d know he messed up but he’d place it all on his own shoulders if you weren't careful. Honestly you knew your insecurities were as much to blame as his own. Yet, you hadn’t seen a way to articulate that before now. “Mammon… I’m afraid I’ll wake up tomorrow and what you just said won’t be a lie. That my being with you is the lie. One I’ve just been telling myself. If that happened… and I really was nothing to you? I don’t think I could stand it.” You shook your head. “You could never be nothin’ ta me.” He replied. “I’m still trying to convince myself of that. It might take a bit of time to do it.” You shrug, “I just care about you too much to be something unimportant to you. I feel apprehensive about that side of our relationship. Mostly because this is still really new.” His hands cupped your face and he brushed a tender kiss against your mouth. “It sounds like we both need some convincing. I’m sorry if what I said made it harder for you to believe it, but… you being with me? I’ve never been this happy before. So happy it makes me suspicious its all a dream.” “I’m glad we are dealing with the same problem then.” You smiled back at him. “I know in my mind how good you are, how kind… but what if I don’t really have any claim on you? My heart has belonged to “The Mammon” for a long time now. I can’t imagine convincing it otherwise.” “Then maybe I need to tell ya yer’ my favorite human more often? So yer mind n’heart finally agree that ya really are mine.” “I like that idea, and just in case you didn’t know it already? You’re my favorite too, Mammon.”

“Easy there, human. If you look too cute I’ll have to get into a fight with those lesser demons on the way to school today.” He sighed. “Can’t you tone it down a little?”

You stared at him where he sat for just a moment. Had he really just said what you thought you heard. Mammon’s expression made you have to admit he had. The mixture of shock and the fiery blush on his cheeks were more telling than seeing the words written in Mammon’s own hand. You couldn’t resist the impulse to run after him. Throwing your arms around him from the back with an enthusiasm that nearly knocked him over. To your surprise instead of censuring you for tryinig to topple you both onto the ground, he laughed. Your favorite smile turned your way and the light in his gorgeous blue eyes seemed brighter than you had ever seen it. “Come on,_. We’d better start walking to school if we want to avoid a lecture from Lucifer.” You followed him out the door. He didn’t hold your hand or anything but you felt closer to him than you had in a long time. The two of you were nearly to school when you noticed the small crowd of demons following along behind you. Some of the demons start calling to Mammon. “Hey Mammon. Dragging your human off to school again? You sure they allow pets?” One laughed. “If she were my pet she’d have bitten you by now.” Mammon replied. Raucous laughter followed that response but it didn’t stop the jeers. “So if she’s not a pet then what exactly is she a toy?” “You idiots must be blind to think that. Nah, she’s the most amazing person I know actually.” Mammon’s words startled you and you watched him carefully as he continued to stroll along the walkway as though he owned the realm. “Scum like you’d be lucky to even talk to her. Especially because she’s mine, and The Great Mammon isn’t so forgiving when lesser demons bother his favorite human.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders affectionately and you smiled up at him. You could swear that instead of walking to school that day you were actually floating.

[tactical-jellyfish]

Tf 141 with an s/o who loves fiber arts!

Word count= roughly 1,750

Warnings: No! Just fluff with the lads :) Enjoy (but inly if you wanna)!!!

Kyle, who really never thought that knitting would be this hard, considering how much you raved about it keeping you both calm and properly stimulated. Now, he sits by your side on the living room floor, shakily holding two bamboo needles in his hands and trying to hold the "working yarn" (the yarn attached to the ball, apparently) the right way as you tenderly lecture him for being a dunce. "No, baby, you need to get through the stitch first before you yarn over-" Your voice is so pretty like that, trying to steer him from making another weird-looking hole for no real reason, but Kyle just whines again as you take the swatch into your own hands, finish off the whole row like some magic creature of the yarn and thread.

"You said that this was supposed to be easy, luvie." He whines into the crook of your neck, having loosely wound himself around your side as you showed him exactly what to do for the fourth time this hour. Some part of him loves the unfailing tenderness, the softness of your voice and the way you poorly hide the fact that you're laughing at him under your breath. "Sorry, i just thought-" There's a snort from your lips as giggles envelop you, your smile turns wide. Kyle's heart melts a little in his chest "I just thought you'd be better at this-"

Kyle gasps in mock offense, before pushing the needles to the floor, already planning his revenge for that little slight. "Say that one more time, and I'll give yer little magic sticks to my nieces and tell 'em they're swords." He revels in the shocked gasp you give, and grins as you bat him upside the head. "Hah, funny man. Try." Your voice is quieter, a little bit more dangerous, just daring him to do that very thing. Kyle saves his own ass by pecking your cheek, gently taking your hands into his own. "I wouldn't, babes, you know I wouldn't." There's not a modicum of lie in that statement. Kyle knows that the sweetest ones are the most terrifying, and his mum would never let him hear the end of it if he lost you. "Yeah, I do know you wouldn't, jus' wanted to mess with you." It's Kyle's turn to gasp now, but he smiles when you kiss his cheek in return, leans into you like a lapdog despite himself. Tonight's going to be good, and he knows it.

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

Johnny, who remarkably managed very, very well with embroidery. You had been so happy to see him, posted on the couch next to you, working away at the hoop, having only very few questions on how he should hold the thing, if the tension you kept talking about was a little bit off. For an hour, maybe two, it was lovely. Simple silence as you leaned up on his shoulder, working a larger project as the Scot figured out exactly what he was doing on his own. Deft hands, you watched him pick apart the small knots in the thread without issue. It flooded your heart with pride. "Are you finally going to let me see the thing, Johnny?" You questioned playfully, trying to straighten your spine to get a peek before there's a big hand shoved over your eyes, and a thick accent chiding you for your gall. "No!" He squawks, you just know that he relishes in not letting you see, riling you up through your own curiosity, because Johnny is, at his core, a cheeky little shit. "Ye gotta wait, mo leannan, ye cannae jus' peek like that!" It draws a grumble from your lips, but you close your eyes, gently take hold of his wrist in your hand and nod, giving a softer affirmation before he coos at you. "Don' worry, it's almost done anyway." He soothes you with a soft peck to your temple, and just like that, you're calm again, all heart-eyed and dumb with love, relaxed. It's another thirty minutes before the finished product is tenderly set into your lap, and you gasp in surprise before seeing it. It's... stupid. An old sketch of his that really had amused him all too much, one of you from a picture at a night out (you had tripped on a root and he managed to get a picture of your face mid-fall) that he had always seemed too damn enamored with. "Oh my god." You press your hand to your face in shame, already feeling ridiculous before Johnny laughs brightly, pressed a firm, wet kiss to your cheek. "You look lovely! Don't ye? I think you look lovely." It's a sweet sentiment, enough to endear you to the terrible, terrible thing that your fiancé has chosen to immortalize and drive a too-fond sigh from your lips. "You're lucky that I love you." You grumble, giving Johnny a half-hearted glare before he swoops in to sweetly kiss your lips, because he really does know you too well. "Aye, I really am" He doesn't miss a beat, still grinning like an idiot. It makes your chest soften, your guts go mushy and fluttery. "Don't be coy, MacTavish." You reprimand. He grins, and kisses you again for good measure.

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

Simon, who really didn't think this would be necessary, but here he is, sitting next to you cross-legged on the floor with the hook in hand. "Like this, right?" He speaks gruffly, and loosens his posture for you to peek over his shoulder. He feels the ghost (pun intended) of a smile pulling up at his lips when he hears your affirmative hum. "Yeah. You're doing real good, honey," Your voice wafts into his ear so nicely, floods his mind so deliciously, the only person that Simon knew he would always listen to, his angel right here on Earth. "Out of curiosity, have you ever done this before?" When you finish your question, Simon does let that smile grow on his face, lets the warmth flood into the cavity of his chest, seep into the crevices of his soul, heal the damage bit by bit. Simon leans his head on yours, and takes in a breath. The truth was, he had. One night, after a particular date when you had entirely infodumped a current project to him, he had done a little research. Then, promptly after, learned to crochet, even if it was only the basics. It paid off now, with you on his arm and impressed with his skill. "Nah. Maybe I'm just good at this, hm?" He denies that, shuffles his cheek closer into yours, soaking up the warmth that you radiate, relishes in the soft chuckle that you give. "Mmh, maybe you're gonna be even better than me, is that your plan?" Your teasing is soft, given out of affection. It makes Simon smile, makes him relieved that he's once again managed to make sure that a date went well. "No. Just pick things up fast." The mood really is dead in the water, but Simon really loves that you seem to thrive in that, that you still peck his cheek anyway despite him practically having negative game. "Smartass." You chirp at him, setting down your own piece on the floor before wholesale resting your head on Simon's shoulder. He fights a chuckle. "Better than being a dumbass, isn't it?" The joke wasn't his (he stole it from Johnny), but when you laughed, Simon knew it was well worth it anyway.

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

John, who was more than content to help you work on another big project of yours. He was endlessly proud of you, how wonderfully you worked on those commissions and how perfect they always looked when you finally shipped them off. But disaster always strikes at one time or another, and the cat is often the cause of that. After maybe an hour of soothing his panicking partner, John had you wrapped up in a blanket in the corner of your own office, gently taking the needle into his own hands to sew the small tear in the fabric back together as you sniffled a little bit. Were you more than skilled enough to fix this issue yourself? Yes. But John felt particularly loving lately, wanted to make sure that his lovely, hyper-competent partner knew that they could rely on him. Because they always could. When he speaks, its gently, glancing up from the fabric in his hands to look into your eyes, still a little bit bloodshot from the tears. "Don't worry yourself, sweetheart. My mother didn't raise a man who doesn't know how to do repairs." The comfort was genuine, both an assurance of his skill and a statement that you could just lay back, let him take the reins for once and allow you to calm down a little bit. "But-" you sniffle, wipe at your nose with a tissue, and John doesn't allow you to question this. "Nope. None of that self-doubt, yer therapist already said that's bad, didn't she?" You nod, John watches your cheeks flush a bit simply because he remembered, that he cared enough to stow that away in the back corners of his brain. Oh, if only you knew how much he adores you, your little heart would blow up. "I can't just let you do my work for me, John, that's not right." The small rebuttal makes him pause in the middle of a stitch, gently set the needle down. His darling had the morals of a saint, why was he surprised by that? "Who said that I was doing your work? Maybe I'm just your guest of honor, sweetness." John speaks softly, shoots you a cocky grin that finally brings a smile back onto your face. "Yeah, yeah, alright," He smiles as you stand, wraps a strong arm around your midsection as you tuck yourself into his side, calming all of the way back down, turning back into the wonderful, sweet, bordering perfect partner returning to form once more. "That means that you have to sign it, too, you know." You tease in return as John nervously swallows, knowing damn well he is hopeless to ever replicate the pure beauty that is your signature on professional pieces. "Well, I'm not so sure about that-" He uselessly stutters to the joke, feeling his own cheeks heat up more than a little bit at the invitation. "Oh, don't be like that, I could teach you." Now that makes Price melt.

[turn-my-hollow-purple]

Don't You Want Someone Crazy Like Me, Babe?

CALLING ALL ARCANE FANS! Here's a CaitVi slowburn I'm working on on Ao3 so go check it out on there (tagged), this is just the first chapter :)

cw: swearing, mental health issues (eating disorders, self harm), alcohol/drug addiction/abuse

Two years? Two whole years. Isn’t that insane? Vi finds herself thinking as she feels the warm rush of water against her pale skin. She swipes the back of her hand along her face, pushing the beads of water off her body. Her delicate fingers wrap tightly along the handle of the shower and push it off shut quickly. The abrupt feeling of cold air against her skin causes a bitter sensation to erupt along her body, goosebumps decorating her skin.

She shivers, shaking her head slightly, letting the water spray from her pinkish hair. She wraps a towel along her body, covering only a slight portion of her figure. It hangs loosely off her soft skin, clinging to the wet curve of muscles along her body. As she walks past the mirror to exit the bathroom, she catches a glimpse at her body and cringes slightly, hating watching her own figure.

Vi exits the bathroom and is greeted by the loud banging of hyperpop music from Powder’s room across the hall. Vi bangs a hand on her door and rolls her eyes.

“KEEP IT DOWN, I DON’T WANT ANOTHER NOISE COMPLAINT!” she yells to her sister. She doesn’t receive a response which isn’t surprising, but Vi gives up, grumbling as she makes her way to her own room.

She drops the towel lazily on the ground and pulls out a pair of gray sweat pants that are coated in various markings… dust, grime, paint. She slips those on and finds a loose fitting, cropped, black tank top. Her nipples poke against the soft fabric as she runs a brush through her messy hair.

It’s grown out to a lengthy mullet, creeping halfway down her back and strands of her hair are painted black in contrast to the brightness of the pink color of her hair. Vi sits on the edge of her bed and realizes only now that she hasn’t slept through a whole night in the two years it's been. Her phone lights up on the ground next to her towel and she shoots up and rushes to it. It’s just a message from Jayce… not the message she wanted.

It’s the group chat with her, Jayce, and Viktor called “Hexual Tension”

Hammerhead: vi, when u work next Knuckles: ??? Knuckles: which job dumbass? Clockwork: I believe he is referring to your job as a bouncer at the club downtown, Vi. Knuckles: alright hexpert Knuckles: why? Hammerhead: we wanted to visit u Knuckles: professor v wanted to visit me? Clockwork: Jayce asked if I would accompany him to your work and I happily obliged. I told him it is like a date. Knuckles: with hundreds of other people Knuckles: and me Hammerhead: long time no see Vi Knuckles: I know I miss y’all too Knuckles: I work tomorrow from 8 to 1 am Clockwork: Perfect, we will see you then.

Vi flicks her phone closed and sighs. It’s been awhile since she’s seen those dumbasses and as much as she doesn’t want to be bothered, she does miss them.

She jumps at the sound of a knock on her bedroom door. “Come in,” she calls out.

Powder peeks her head inside. “Can I come in?”

Vi just nods and scoots over on the bed to make more room for her sister, but rather she sprawls herself out on the ground instead of the bed. Vi just huffs.

“What’s up?”

“I know it’s the two year anniversary,” she whispers, her eyes glued to the ceiling. Her blue hair is messy, falling on the ground with strands across her pale face.

“I don’t need your pity, Powder,” Vi mumbles.

“Hey, street name, dumbie,” she grunts out.

“Sorry, Jinx,” Vi subconsciously corrects, not quite used to her sister’s new ‘street persona’.

“I’m not here to give you pity, just make sure you’re okay, that’s all,” she whispers, turning over on the hardwood floor and facing upwards at Vi sitting on the bed.

“I’ve… been better,” Vi finds herself admitting quietly.

“It’s been two years and-”

“-don’t expect me to get over it after two years,” Vi bites.

“Not what I was going to say,” Jinx informs, flicking her finger in the air disapprovingly. “I was going to say… it’s been two years and I haven’t seen you take care of yourself once or process it properly once and I’m not sure… that’s just not good.”

“You’re not exactly the queen of taking care of herself,” Vi informs, her eyebrows cocking slightly.

Jinx laughs loudly, an outburst that catches Vi off guard. “You’re not wrong… I have anxiety and an eating disorder and I blast my ears with music so I don’t hear the voices. But you… you have depression and anger issues and hurt your body physically.”

“I’m not proud of it, alright. I’m just saying I don’t think you’re one to speak on healthy behaviors.”

Jinx shrugs, turning onto her back again, eyes darting across the ceiling as if they’re searching desperately for something, perhaps an answer to a question that underlies Vi's words.

“I didn’t mean to bother you, just trying to be a good sis,” she says quietly.

Vi feels a sharp pain in her stomach and scrunches her nose up tightly at those words. “I’m sorry, Po-Jinx. I’m just processing everything. First love and first heartbreak are hard.”

“Especially since you’re gay.”

Vi makes a scowling face, shooting daggers at her sister, who doesn’t even look in Vi’s direction, but bursts out in a fit of giggles again.

“Yeah, okay, especially since I’m gay. But it’s just been hard when she was… my whole life, I suppose.”

Jinx just nods, her fingers dancing across her skin as she allows the tingles to fuel her body, letting her know that she’s breathing and thinking and alive. The cool wood of the floor helps. Jinx tilts her head ever so slightly in Vi’s direction and her lips tug into a small frown.

“Sorry,” she chirps.

Vi just shrugs. “I’m going to be fine. I just can’t believe you remembered it’s been two years.”

“How could I forget?” she whispers, her lips teasing upwards slightly. “You hadn’t spoken to me in years and you just appeared on my doorstep like a wet dog.”

“I know, not my finest moment. Dad died and I got fucked up and I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing for it, dammit,” Jinx hisses, hating to relive their past trauma and mistakes.

Vi bites the inside of her cheek, feeling the same pang in her stomach at the discussion of past wounds. “But I’m glad I’m here.”

“Me too,” Jinx whispers. “Work tomorrow?”

“Both jobs, yeah. You?”

“Yup, both as well,” Jinx whistles out, a soft sound that has a childlike tone to it.

Vi just laughs slightly. “Glad you call what you do work.”

“I make money!” she informs, offense written across her face.

“Legally?”

“Money’s money!” she yelps, pressing her palms into the cold wood to help push herself up so she’s sitting upright and looking at Vi directly.

Vi just shakes her head and laughs. “Just giving you a hard time. And don’t get caught, alright?”

Jinx offers a mimicking salute as she stands up and bows, making her way to the door. She swings it open and lunges through it.

Vi’s voice cuts through the door before she can shut it. “Turn your techno-ass music down so we don’t get a damn noise complaint again, alright?”

Jinx rolls her eyes but smiles, the door open barely half an inch as she whispers “no promises!” through it.

Vi watches the door shut all the way and she finds her body collapse fully on the bed. Her dark room glows slightly in the low light of the lantern sitting in the corner. She doesn’t bother with overhead lights often as it costs more for the electricity bill. She contorts her body until her hand scrambles against the floor under her bed. Her fingers brush against the cold glass of a beer bottle that she pulls out and presses against her cracked, scarred lips. She shifts her hand under the covers of her messy bed and she finds her vape. She also brings this to her destroyed lips, breathing in the taste.

She blows it out in a low breath, her lungs deflating completely, leaving her weak. The room fills with the scent of blue raspberry and it’s stupid, but it reminds her of-

Vi tosses her vape across the room. It hits the wall and then the ground with a loud bam! sound and she hears the pieces of it scatter across the wooden floor. She hisses under her breath, regretting the mistake but not bothering to clean up the newly made mess.

The beer bottle finds its way back to her lips and she consumes the tart liquid. It coats her tongue and her throat, encapsulating her entire body in a way that turns her mind fuzzy and numb.

Vi can’t help but think it’s also been two years since she hasn’t been either high or drunk.

Her body sinks into her old mattress and she lets her muscles relax, feeling the coursing alcohol throughout her veins, fueling her body and her mind, leading her to exhaustion.

════❖════

Only the holy lord above knows how long Vi’s alarm has been blaring for. That is if there is a holy lord above.

Her head is pounding and she feels sick to her stomach, a sour feeling pulsing in her body. She lets her hand search her hand blindly search her bed for her phone, searching for an escape to the loud sounds that make her hangover worse. She gives up quickly and pulls herself out of bed, realizing it’s on the floor.

“Motherfucker!” she swears loudly, realizing the time. “I’m so fucking late-”

It’s already 11:30 am and she realizes that she had a class that started 45 minutes ago. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cusses under her breath as she messily runs a hand through her long hair, not bothering to straighten or brush it.

She also doesn’t bother changing, just grabbing her shoes and her boxing gloves, along with her wraps and a water bottle.

“BYE!” she screams loudly as she darts out of the small apartment that she shares with Jinx. Vi doesn’t get a response from her sister, which isn’t surprising. She’s probably still asleep.

Vi sprints about four blocks to the small little boxing studio in the middle of the downtown area, bursting through the door, panting and scared.

Her boss stumbles over to her… his face does not look amused.

“The fuck you doing here so late. Someone had to take care of your class,” he shoots bitterly.

Vi’s lips quake as she attempts to breathe properly, to fill her lungs with the air required to talk and communicate with her boss. She scrunches her nose and rests her hands on her knees.

“I’m so sorry I had an issue at home and-”

“Not interested. Go take your class back,” he demands.

Vi straightens herself out, pulling her tape out to bandage up her wrists and put her gloves on.

“Oh, and Vi?” he quips as she’s rushing to one of the back rooms. “You’re late one more time, you’re fired,” he hisses.

She nods, her eyes stinging. She’s exhausted and worn out but she has a class to teach. She bursts through the door and notices all the young kids practicing with their sub. She plasters a smile on her face and waves at the kids. They giggle with excitement as they notice her and she tries not to deflate instantly.

“Sorry about that, guys! I’m here for the rest of your class. How was the sub? Shall we practice some kicks too?”

════❖════

“Morning, baby,” Maddie whispers, turning over and pressing a kiss against Caitlyn’s cheek.

Caitlyn is staring numbly at the ceiling. “Morning,” she whispers, her British accent thick with exhaustion.

“Ah yes, still cranky until you get your coffee.” Maddie attempts to make the joke to lighten the room, but Caitlyn doesn’t crack. “I’ll go make some when you get ready for work, yeah?”

Caitlyn just nods, her eyes closing and opening in slow, drawn out blinks. Maddie crawls from the bed, naked. She dawns a robe as she exits the room to fix Caitlyn some coffee and food before work.

Caitlyn pulls herself from bed a few beats later, fully clothed. Her face is cold and emotionless as she stumbles to her closet, pulling out a uniform-type look. Her high waisted trousers hug her ass and thighs tightly, constricting her slightly, but she doesn’t mind. Her nimble fingers make their way up the button’s of her dark colored shirt. She slips on her boots and an overcoat.

She finds herself in her bathroom. She’s a mess; her hair is dark with sweat and grease and is tossed in every direction except down. Her face is dark and smudged with makeup from the night before. She tosses cool water against her face in an attempt to wake her up and wash away the remnants of her makeup. She brushes her hair with her delicate fingers, pulling it into a high ponytail. Some of her strands are defiant, sticking out in erratic waves.

She stumbles into the kitchen.

“You look lovely,” Maddie chirps, handing her a cup of coffee.

“I wear this every day, Maddie, and I’m not wearing makeup today and my hair’s an outright disaster.” Her voice is harsh… harsher than she intended.

“It’s okay, babe, you still look amazing,” Maddie pleads.

Caitlyn exhales sharply, taking a long sip of her coffee, letting the bitter liquid wake her up as it hits her taste buds. “Thank you,” she finally whispers out after a few minutes.

Maddie just nods. “Be safe today.”

“I always am,” she informs, grabbing her car keys.

Maddie leans in for a kiss before Caitlyn leaves, but Cait dodges it, letting Maddie’s small lips plant against Caitlyn’s cheek. “Bye,” Maddie hums as Caitlyn leaves.

Unfortunately, Caitlyn’s entire drive she isn’t thinking about the rules of the road or what the day at work is going to look like, which is very unlike her.

Rather, her mind is plagued with thoughts of Vi. Yesterday was the anniversary of their two year break up and man, did that day wreck Caitlyn. She honestly hadn’t even realized it until she was almost home from work that night but it ruined the rest of her day. The bitterness and contempt she held for her fiance because of it was awful, but she couldn’t help it. It's not as if it wasn’t all her fault, but it didn’t matter. She missed her so bad and she regretted everything.

But it was too late to fix the mess she’d created, so why not let it be… let the mess sit? She wasn’t proud of that mentality, but it is out of her hands, for better or for worse.

Caitlyn parks her car, her head pounding as she realizes she doesn’t even remember arriving here; how she got here and everything. But she slips her badge on the belt of her pants and stumbles towards the police station. Being a detective is hard, but what better way to take her mind off of a broken heart?

But fuck, did she miss Vi.

[mollyrolls]

idk how to make this into one cohesive thing I'm sorry tumblr user mollyrolls ily <3333

please god I need this for sakusa I am on my KNEES, gunslinger, wanted sign, you choose the overall theme just PLEASE go easy on me if it's angst I beg

here in LONESOME TOWN... @jadeoru and @nectardaddy are

✪ tied between a rock and a hard place

tags: sakusa x gn!reader, enemies to lovers, gunslinger, "left for dead", angst

warnings: implied abandonment, language, bodily harm, more i forget

an: too many words syndrome rears its head once more; thought too hard abt this, etc etc etc. sooo... this will be a part three lmfao. uhhh also not proofread or edited so be nice

wc: 881

PART ONE

mlist. ✪ event mlist.

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“We don’t have time for this.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going with you.”

Sakusa pinches his brow, clearly fed up with your antics. You’ve balked by his horse for the past five minutes, unable or unwilling to join him in the saddle to go home. 

Call it stubbornness, call it pride, whatever you want. You’d rather be back in the cave than be forced to ride with Kiyoomi for any period of time.

The heel of your boot slides against the gravel as you solidify your stance, arms crossed. 

Your final act of resistance seems to be the end of his patience, so he just shrugs. 

“Suit yourself.” 

He mounts the saddle in one fluid motion, barely giving you a courtesy look back. 

“I’ll probably end up at the inn just outside the canyons. If you manage to find your way out and come to your senses, find me there.”

With that, he spurred his horse on and they vanished into the inky darkness. Leaving you just as stranded as you were before. 

✪ ✪ ✪

“Stupid… Kiyoomi fucking… god.”

You’ve lost count of how long you’ve been out here. It’s been long enough that the sun has started to rise, alleviating some of the tension you’ve held all night. You felt safer knowing you had your gear, but a knife won’t do much good when a coyote’s already taken your leg off. 

It’s been a painful, restless night. And it’s your fault.

But that won’t stop you from blaming him. 

As you continue nudging the rock you’ve been kicking, you notice the road starts to change. Rather, the road starts to form in front of you. 

This means you’ll lose the tracks Kiyoomi left that you’d followed blindly, but at least you’re close enough to find something to eat. Maybe another stranger that can help you along, rather than be stuck riding with… him… all the way home.

A small building materializes on the horizon, large enough to be an inn of sorts. For the first time in ages, you start hoping to run into him again. 

It takes you a bit longer to get there, the building seeming more like a mirage the longer you walk. But you know this is at least the right track to getting home, so you trudge on.

Finally you approach the wooden building, and notice Sakusa’s horse tied up right outside. It’s impossible to miss. The all black coat, the memories lingering around her, the sleek saddle donning her back. 

Feeling a bit self conscious, you move towards the horse rather than the door. You’re not ready to eat crow quite yet.

“Hey there.”

Her ears whip around to identify you, but you know her tricks. She used to be yours, after all. 

Finding the crevice on her back that she loves the most, you start to pet her as a means of distraction.

“I… hmm. You were rig… I’m so- sorr. Ugh.”

Any attempts to prepare what you’re going to say fall short, feeling gross in your mouth.

You stay with her a bit longer, struggling to think of anything other than an insult directed towards him. After one particularly affectionate sigh from the horse, you momentarily consider stealing her back and leaving him stranded in the end. It would serve him right.

Rapidly deciding that this is the optimal decision, the two of you snap to attention when a floorboard creaks.

Sakusa is standing around the corner, looking caught. It seems like he’d been there longer than he’d let on and is silently swearing his readjustment. 

The open plains feel smothering as the two of you stand there once again, awfully reminiscent of past experiences. Last night, of course, and the night he broke your heart in the first place.

✪ ✪ ✪

You had noticed in your far off consciousness some movement to your left. It’s foggy, sleep was still overwhelming you, but you definitely felt the mattress rise as Sakusa left your side. 

Normally, you would have let it be. But gut feelings are nasty beasts, and even in your fitful sleep you could tell something was wrong. 

A few minutes passed, and he didn’t return. Not in the bathroom then. 

You had risen from the bed and followed his traces through the house. You finally came across him outside, untying your horse from her post.

“What are you doing?” You couldn’t help the accusatory tone that leaves you, despite trying to hold it back. 

He stills, reigns still gripped tight in his hands.

“I’ve… I’ve got a job outside of town. I shouldn’t be gone long.”

You had taken him for his word then. You knew what he did, and you knew it was not out of the ordinary to have an early morning assignment. 

You’d ignored the coiling in your stomach, kissed him goodbye, and returned to a fitful sleep. 

When he didn’t come back that morning, you’d naively assumed it was just taking longer than he thought.

When he didn’t come back the next morning, you’d accepted that he was dead.

But when you saw him just outside of town, three months later, galloping away at full speed atop your prized horse, you swore to all that was holy that you’d never forgive Sakusa Kiyoomi for breaking your heart.

to be continued...

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