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dat-town · 5 months ago

Text

mine for the summer

Characters: Leehan & female reader

Setting & genre: coming of age, summer romance, angst and fluff (it has a happy end!)

Summary: Busan is your hideout, your runaway place, your freedom bought on stolen time. Leehan is your first love, your safe place, your everything. At least, for the summer.

Warnings: stage name used, OC is coming out of a burnout in the beginning and she has a relapse, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, past hospitalization, emotionally distant parents, parental pressure on academics

Words: 9.4k

Author’s note: title from One Direction’s Summer Love. here is the Romeo + Juliet movie scene that gets mentioned

turns out i cannot not write an at least bit of an angsty story for your bday but i do sincerely hope you have a very happy one, @restlessmaknae <3 also of course you would start singing this song in july to give me a heart attack right before i accidentally told you i’m writing about Leehan

The humidity of air sticks to you like second skin, sweat glistening on your nape where your hair gets tangled in the summer heat. With closed eyes and the tickling feeling of sand under your bare feet, you listen to the ocean waves washing up the beach and children giggling. You take a deep breath of air filled with salt and fish and oil, something so uniquely Busan that you feel like fourteen again.

It’s been years since you had come to visit. Excuses were easy to find: too busy, too far; reasons were much harder.

But now you’re here and you realize that you missed it. The quiet serenity of being hidden away in the part of town that’s far from the busy skyscraper downtown and the overwhelming tourist traps. You remember spending summers running down these sandy beaches and playing in the water, mouth sticky with fruit and palms scratched with falls and youth. Then you turned older and got bored of the quiet neighborhood, the ocean losing its significance after seeing it too many times, eventually you stopped coming altogether. Now you are even older but still young, barely out of school, the CSAT exams still haunting your dreams. You’re just twenty but sometimes that age feels like it bears the weight of the world. Your world at least.

You open your eyes and squint right away at the brightness of the Sun and feel its burning heat on your bare shoulders only cooled by some nice breeze. The air might smell like salt, fish and oil but it tastes like freedom.

You take one more deep breath, willing yourself not to think of your mother’s disappointed words about your behavior nor her disapproval of you coming here, and push yourself up. You grab your discarded sandals and head back. Your grandparents must be worried already. In their eyes you are still fourteen, forever a child.

And they might be right because not even halfway down the beach, you abruptly halt and hiss, pain shooting into your feet and your carmine blood drips onto the golden sand. Balancing yourself on one leg, you check on the wound, a cut on the softest flesh part of your feet and the culprit, a broken shell in the sand. Clumsily you take your water bottle from your bag to clean the blood off, your skin still sensitive around the fresh wound. You debate whether you should tiptoe the rest of the way or clean your footwear off sand and dirt as much as you can but before you could decide, a stranger approaches you with worriedly furrowed brows.

“Are you okay?” He asks in a deep voice but you don’t pay too much attention to him, too busy to figure out what to do with your injury.

“Yeah, it’s just a small cut,” you brush his worry off, expecting him to walk away or maybe to give you directions to the closest pharmacy but he does neither.

“Here. Hold onto me,” the stranger offers his arm which you reluctantly but take because your balancing skills honestly aren’t the best. Then you can do nothing but stare as the boy around your age suddenly pulls out a plaster from his shorts’ pocket and leans down to inspect your wound. It’s a bit awkward, having a stranger look at your feet, so your fingers curl inside themselves around his arm. The boy is gentle, barely touching your skin as he applies the plaster and once he’s done, he straightens, looking down at you with sparkling, shiny eyes.

The first thing you notice about him other than his height and the low register of voice is actually his eyes, how pretty and expressive they are. The second thing is the way the wind blows his longer, almond colored fringe into his eyes. Your fingers twitch to brush it away just to find out if they are as soft as they look.

Then you realize that you’re staring, so you quickly look away, down at your feet that now has a cute seahorse patterned plaster on it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, a bit dumbfounded but amused at the same time. “Do you just carry around plasters everywhere?” You blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind as you lower your leg, still feeling a bit sensitive but much better.

“I can be a bit clumsy at times. And too curious for my own good or so I have been told,” the boy shrugs with a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m Leehan by the way.”

“I’m…”

“Y/N-ah! There you are,” your grandmother’s voice cuts off your introduction and like a kid caught doing something you shouldn’t have, you take a step backwards, away from the boy, on instinct.

“I have to go,” you look at the stranger, Leehan, one last time apologetically. “Thanks again.”

“Take care,” the boy smiles warmly and waves, the movement cute just like the animal print plaster he had on him.

You limp all the way towards your grandma who stands there with her hands on her hips, ready to scold but you hush her and tell her it’s nothing serious, that you are okay. Still you listen to her tsk-ing and nagging as you walk back inside the house but once she seems to run out of everything she could have said about it, she changes the topic swiftly.

“You barely got here and you are already snatching boys?”

“If by snatching you mean embarrassing myself in front of them, then sure,” you try to softly tone down your grandma’s enthusiasm but she keeps chattering despite the sarcasm in your answer.

“Leehan is a sweet boy, always helping when he sees me with lots of groceries. He lives in the neighborhood with his family and I think he graduated high school last year, so you must be the same age.”

You hate how hopeful she sounds because you didn’t come here to befriend people. When you called asking if you could spend the summer here like you used to, except this time you would help them out, your grandma was happy to take you in but worried too that you would be lonely or bored alone with ‘only them old folks’ but honestly, you craved a little peace and alone time. That’s why you needed to get out of Seoul too, away from its people. From all its memories.

So you just make a noncommittal hum and escape to the kitchen to help your grandpa with the scallion pancakes for dinner.

“What’s your grandmother fussing about?” He asks, pushing the glasses further up his nose.

“Nothing, I just stepped on a broken shell,” you shrug and get three plates from the shelves and kimchi from the fridge.

“Typical. I heard about it for weeks when I accidentally cut my finger one time,” he recited and you smiled, feeling loved and cared for. At home.

The market is stuffy, different smells of sea animals, fried food, fresh fruit and detergent mixing with the sounds of vendors arguing and negotiating over the static sound of music coming from an old radio. It’s busy but different type of busy compared to the crowded metro coaches. It’s lively here and while you had studied your ass off for the promise of a future corporate job, here you are packaging tteokbokki for takeaway, always adding extra because that’s a given for regulars. Not that you think it’s below you, you love the food stall aunties and uncles very much, but you would have never imagined yourself sweating next to a spicy boiling broth in the heat of summer. Maybe it had something to do with the way your mother talked about her parents’ job so derogatorily, always telling you that you’re only somebody if you’re well educated and a career woman. Maybe that’s why she was so against you coming here. Because it was a place she had run away from.

You’re in the middle of chopping scallions in the back when you hear a cheerful call of Ahjumma! and your grandma perks up more than usual.

“Leehan-ah, are you going down to the beach?” She asks and you feel the back of your neck heat up but you blame it on the Sun. It has been days since the shell incident but the embarrassment still creeps on you. You hope the boy won’t notice you or at least not say anything about it.

“Later. First I have some errands to run,” Leehan says and your granny coos, probably patting his cheek too, calling him a good boy. Then casually while she is stirring the tteok in the pot, she suddenly changes the topic.

“If you have some free time, could you show our Y/N around? She doesn't really go out on her own.”

“Grandma!” You turn around, sulky at the callout. A mistake because you can clearly see the boy failing to hide his amused smile.

“Sure. If she can keep up,” he raises a brow elegantly at you which immediately makes you defensive.

“Are you calling me short?” You straighten up without meaning to because come on, you aren’t that much shorter!

“I’m asking if your foot is alright.” Leehan corrects your assumption with a know-it-all smile plastered on his face but he still manages to pull it off in a genuine way with a hint of worry. It makes you feel flustered for a moment.

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” you clear your throat and clean your hands in a rag cloth nearby.

“I’m just going to the post office, I’m free after that,” the boy says, looking straight at you from under his longer fringe, over your grandma’s shoulder.

“Great. Go have fun!” The old lady exclaims, turning and walking up to you, untying your apron faster than you would expect from somebody her age.

“Grandma, I’m not leaving you alone,” you protest but it’s no use. She tsks and shakes her head as if she couldn’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Please, we were doing fine before too. I can just get your grandpa to stop playing mahjong with the neighbors if more people come,” she brushes off your worries easily and basically pushes you out of the food stall’s kitchen area. You’re just about to complain about your bag when she shoves it towards your chest and all you can do is stare at her, shocked but you can’t really say anything when she smiles so sweetly and wishes that you have a good time.

Eventually, you’re the one to give up. It’s not like you could make her let you work against her wishes and she seems very keen on making sure that you go out and get friends while you’re here. It was difficult to convince her to let you help out at the shop at all to pay back in a way for their hospitality no matter how much they told you that they would be happy just to have you over the summer.

It’s only when you’re a little further as you follow Leehan through the market, when you speak up.

“You know, you don’t have to do what my grandmother asks you. I can be on my own just fine,” you mutter, not wanting him to think you’re some child that needs a babysitter. Just because you like to stay in your room, it doesn’t mean you would get lost if you set a foot outside.

“I’m sure, don’t worry. But it’s no bother. I like to be an advocate for the city,” the boy grins at you and as if on cue, an auntie greets him and insists on giving him a bag of peaches. Leehan asks about her grandchildren and compliments her harvest. He charms everybody effortlessly, a real sweet talker but he doesn’t seem fake about it at all and it’s kind of lovely, just like his fish themed plasters.

With people constantly greeting him, it takes way longer to get to the post office than it should have but at least you can laugh when he loses paper, rock, scissors against a nine year old kid and is bullied into trying something really spicy. You try to hide your smile while the little kid is unabashed about his reaction when Leehan grimaces at the hot spices, finding his disgusted nose scrunch hilarious. In apology, you buy him iced green tea at the next stall you see and he smiles at you brightly like the Sun.

Once Leehan is done at the post office, you expect it to get awkward but it’s him who breaks the silence as you stand in the shade, sweat dripping down your back in the moonsoon season’s humidity.

“So… you’re here for the summer?”

“Hm. I missed the sea,” you hum quietly, keeping your eyes on the bright horizon and the shimmering line of water in the distance.

It isn’t entirely a lie but not the whole truth either. Being so burned out after high school that you got a panic attack at the thought of going to university, so you had to postpone a semester and the disappointment it caused to your parents certainly isn’t something you want to dump on a practically stranger. But even if Leehan has a feeling that you’re not 100% sincere, he doesn’t push, which is something you appreciate.

“Well, then you came to the right place. Not to be biased but Busan has the prettiest beaches.”

“Prettier than Jeju?” You tease just for the sake of it and it makes the boy chuckle.

“Of course! Come on, I will show you my favorite place,” he tilts his head, a clear invitation and you give in because you don’t have anything better to do anyway.

The Sun is still high up on the sky, white clouds clear against the blue of it. You’re fanning yourself but it doesn’t help much. Leehan however doesn’t seem bothered by the heat, so you find yourself asking:

“Did you grow up here?”

“Born and raised,” he nods with a proud smile which isn’t that surprising because he has that more laidback way of talking that locals around here have. At least he’s not talking as fast as the neighbor ahjussi whom you have trouble understanding. “You have a Seoul dialect though.”

“That’s the standard way of speaking, just saying,” you roll your eyes at him calling the way you speak a dialect which makes him laugh.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

It’s silly arguing over something like this but it’s actually fun, you find yourself smiling without meaning to. Something that has come harder lately. So you end up answering the boy’s unasked question about your upbringing. You tell him about growing up among metal skyscrapers, the Han River and Seoul Forest being your escape, only spending your summers in Busan, your mother’s hometown until you were fourteen. Leehan listens and asks random questions like whether you have ever been to the COEX Aquarium or if you ever wanted to be a mermaid as a little girl. It’s surprisingly easy to talk with him, to open up. Maybe it’s because you know he doesn’t know you well enough to judge or even if he did, it doesn’t matter much because you would leave at the end of the summer anyways.

In the meantime you reach the sea and walk along the shore farther from the crowded beach and bay areas. When you come across a bunch of larger rocks, Leehan climbs onto the top easily and holds out a hand for you to help you up too. Tentatively but you take up on his offer and let him pull you up on the slightly slippery rock. He doesn’t let go until you land on stable ground on the other side. There are smaller rocks and pebble stones splattered across the sand there stretching from the clean turquoise blue waters to a cave overshadowed by greenery. It’s beautiful and you can’t believe you’re the only ones here.

“How did you find this place?” You ask in awe, wandering farther ahead. Even the sand is cooler here from the trees’ shade.

“Honestly, I don’t go out a lot either. I just like to go down to the beach and be, you know. So I have been looking for a place where I can chill and well, I had years,” the boy says with a hidden smile in the corner of his mouth as your grandmother’s words about your hermit behavior echoes in your ears.

Of course, you know that she means well and that she’s a social butterfly, so it’s weird for her that you are not that outgoing at your age. Or maybe she has heard from your mother of those weeks where you refused to leave your room let alone the house. Things had been bad then, now you’re getting better. You have come all the way to Busan after all. Was it to run away from your problems? Maybe, but also you hoped that not being in an environment that reminded you of your failures would help.

“Do you always bring girls here?” You ask, more playful than anything as you balance between two rocks, looking back at Leehan over your shoulder. You can hear him snort and catch the way he scratches the back of his neck.

“Not really,” he admits sheepishly. “Just the special ones,” he adds with a mischievous smirk on his face. Tsk, what a flirt, you shake your head in disbelief but amused.

“Aren’t you afraid that I will ruin your chill time here?” You ask as you settle onto a place in the shades, closing your eyes as you enjoy the cool breeze against your sweaty shoulders.

“Not really,” comes the answer closer than you expected as Leehan settles on the ground not far from you. You squint your eyes open to see his expression but he’s only looking at the sea fondly.

You don’t talk much afterwards, just sharing bits and bobs of your lives, little anecdotes. Leehan eventually offers to walk you home when it gets close to dinner time. You could easily find your way with Naver Maps but you let him anyway and try to keep up with his recommendations of Busan places to check out; you probably forget half of them though. You don’t exchange contacts, it somehow doesn’t even occur to you because you’re pretty sure you will run into each other one way or another. It’s all nice and cozy. Something you could get used to.

Even though you expected to meet Leehan, you didn’t think it would be so soon. But trust your grandma to play the matchmaker despite your firm reminder that you didn’t come to stay with them over the summer to get a boyfriend.

Still, you should have known better when you agreed to get cat food at the local pet store in lieu of one of your grandmother’s friends. You feared she would have gone herself and carried it all if you weren’t going and at that point you were just happy if she let you do anything yourself because you felt like a spoiled guest at her house. But of course, she had ulterior motives, you realize when behind the store’s counter, there’s none other than Leehan with his pretty smile and soft-looking hair.

“Are you stalking me?” He grins when he spots you after the jingling sound of the door chime signals your arrival, one side of his mouth curling more upwards then the other, the asymmetry of it making him even more handsome.

“Blame my grandma. She sent me here on an errand.”

You are quick to give him your excuse but it only makes the boy pout slightly and you can’t tell whether he’s faking it or he’s actually disappointed.

“I thought you missed my wonderful company,” he puts a hand over his heart and ah, that’s definitely over exaggerated.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” you deadpan as you walk up to the counter and pull out your phone to get the list of things you should buy.

You show the pet food brands and quantities to the boy and while he’s off to get them from the back, you look around in the shop. There are all sorts of cat and dog supplies but further in the back you see tanks and you swear you see movement in some, so your curiosity brings the worst out of you and you wander closer, smiling upon seeing the blue and golden fish in various prettily decorated glass boxes. You’re so busy looking inside the tanks that you get startled when Leehan speaks up from behind you.

“Do you like fish?”

“Oh… actually, I have wanted a fish tank at home ever since I saw Romeo + Juliet,” you admit as you turn to face the boy. He furrows his brows in confusion and you somehow feel urged to explain it in more detail. “It’s an adaptation from the 90s. In this version, Romeo and Juliet saw each other first through a fish tank at the ball. I just thought it’s… romantic,” you cut yourself off when you realise your’re rambling about embarrassing girly things and clear your throat. “Anyways, my parents obviously didn’t let me have one.”

“That’s cute,” Leehan says, his smile half-teasing, half-sincere and you feel heat coloring your cheeks. How can he just say things like that? “I have one at home.”

He adds casually but you immediately perk up.

“Really? Do you have pictures of it?” You can’t help but inquire and luckily the boy doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he seems pretty excited that he’s able to talk about his fish. He keeps showing you pictures of different states of the fish tank and what kind of fish he had before and what else he wants to get one day. He also tells you that this is his go-to place when it comes to buying fish supplies and it’s pretty cool that the owner lets him work here part-time over the summer. You are so distracted that the next customer has to come to the back looking for the cashier which is a bit awkward but you both laugh about it.

You shuffle around in the back while the customer gets the new leash for his dog and when he leaves, you go to the checkout counter too to pay for the cat food. You already stayed longer than you intended to do, so you do a little ‘hwaiting’ gesture at Leehan as a goodbye but his words stop you before you could leave.

“Would you like to go to the aquarium this weekend?” He asks and you swear you can hear the nervousness in his tone despite the smooth, casual delivery or his confident front.

“Sure, why not?” You try to play it cool too and eventually you agree to meet in front of the place on Saturday, so you leave the pet shop not only with cat food but weekend plans too and a smile on your face.

It’s an understatement to say that your grandma is over the moon when you tell them that you will be out Saturday because you made plans with Leehan. Your grandpa asks though if he needs to talk with ‘this young man about his intentions’ and you protest vehemently. It’s not even a date after all, because it isn’t, right? You’re just hanging out. Your granny waves her hand and chuckles at the interaction.

“Let them be. We were young once too,” she says in that voice she always has when she gets nostalgic. You listen to her stories about her youth even if you have heard them dozens of times before because your grandma had such an eventful life. No wonder she always encourages you to ‘live a little’ and follow your heart. That’s how you don’t regret life looking back, she says.

So that’s what you are doing when Saturday comes and you get ready to go out. The loose-fitting white dress feels light against your skin and with a sudden wave of enthusiasm, you reach for your barely used eyeshadow palette. Today you feel like doing something special, like putting on silver, glittery makeup. You feel good when you look into the mirror but then you start second guessing it. Isn’t it too much for a simple hangout?

Too late, you realize because you’re already short on time to make it to the aquarium by the agreed time, so you brush off your worries. By some miracle you manage to catch the bus, trying not to think about your outfit or makeup being too much, too… date-y.

When you arrive at the entrance, Leehan is already there, his tall figure striking even from a distance, especially in the jeans and tucked-in, light blue shirt combo he wears. He stands by one of the pillars, scrolling through his phone but pockets it right away when he sees you.

“Hey… You look pretty,” he blurts out, faint rosiness coloring his cheeks and it makes you feel shy too. Your previous thoughts about taking this dressing up too far cease to exist.

“Thanks. You look good too,” you say because it’s true, but he always looks nice. Even in the bermuda shorts he wears to the beach or the pet store uniform t-shirt. Maybe it’s because of his slender figure or his prince-like features or just overall the casual confidence he holds himself with.

“Thanks,” Leehan mutters and looks away. It’s quite a different reaction from what he shows when ahjummas on the market pinch his cheeks and call him handsome. “Let’s go in.”

Inside it’s like a hidden Atlantis. You are surrounded by lovey-dovey couples walking hand-in-hand and families with kids running around. The blue hue of water is casted over everything and Leehan’s eyes sparkle in the dim light as he tells you about things he learned from documentaries about the deep sea or at university. It turns out he’s studying oceanology at Korean Maritime and Ocean University there in Busan which is pretty cool, something that suits him. When he asks about your side, unknowing to the turmoil inside you when it comes to your studies, you don’t tell him about the stress you have been under just to get into a SKY university. You don’t tell him about your messed up sleeping and eating schedules, the IV drops at hospitals, the anxiety and panic attacks nor the result of it all. You just shrug and tell him that you got into a good uni with a business management major, but it’s not really what you want to do. He doesn’t ask why you did it then or why you don’t change it. Instead he looks at you with a smile under the penguins’ majestic aquarium and asks:

“If nothing else mattered, what would you want to do then?”

You give it a thought because you didn’t quite have the luxury to think about what you really wanted before. It was always about what your parents wanted you to do. Until you decided to pack your things and come down to this beach town.

“Staying here forever,” you eventually respond and it sounds like an exaggeration, so you chuckle to soften the confession’s rough edges. Even if Leehan doesn’t know you well enough (yet) to understand the longing in those words, your yearning for the taste of freedom and the warmth of a home where you are waited for,che seems to understand. He just smiles wider and proceeds to tell about the crazy lifespan of some turtle species. It’s good, your tensed shoulders relax again as you follow him to the next section.

After you have thoroughly seen everything at the aquarium, you find a place nearby to eat at, then walk down the closeby popular Haeundae beach. It’s not as pretty as the one next to the lagoon Leehan showed you the other day and there are more people here than you would have preferred but it’s okay. You never seem to run out of topics, lighthearted ones, yet even silence is comfortable with Leehan.

“See you tomorrow at the beach?” You ask in lieu of saying goodbye on your way back. Your fingers are intertwined behind your back just to do something with them because they are sweaty and soiled with sand from the impromptu sand castle building you came up with under the last unforgiving rays of the Sun.

“Don’t miss me too much until then,” Leehan says with a corny smile playing on his lips instead of saying yes but you just laugh and let him be.

You ignore your grandma’s knowing glare from the living room as you run up the stairs two at a time, your white dress floating behind you like flower petals in the wind.

On Sunday you meet on the beach and stay out until the Sun disappears behind the horizon. Next week you help Leehan choose a new decoration for his fish tank and spend two hours in the pet store listening to him talk about the difference between algae types and the importance of filters and sub-filters. On Friday your grandparents are at the hospital for their usual check up, so you’re on your own in the food stall. Leehan comes around to keep you entertained but he ends up helping out when a bigger group appears. Sweet of him but you find out the hard way that he has shitty sense when it comes to spice, especially salt, measurements.

The week after, you run into each other in your local Olive Young while you’re getting a new nail polish color and he has a bottle of shampoo in his basket. You end up leaving with a new glittery eyeshadow palette too because the boy drops a comment that it would look pretty on you. You put it on together with the baby pink nail polish you just bought when you go to the outdoor screening of a Korean classic on the beach. Under fairy lights and the fluorescent reflections of the movie in Leehan’s sparkling eyes, you feel a rush of something selfish, a longing so deep it cuts and you have to look away before it becomes obvious.

You don’t talk about it, whether these are dates or not. Because talking about it would make it real. It would make it scary, because then you would have something to lose when the summer ends. It’s fragile but it’s yours and it’s enough, you tell yourself.

One of these days it rains. The kind of sudden summer downpour that feels way too nice on your heated skin in the humid, hot weather. It catches you in the middle of eating ice cream with Leehan and you can’t help but yelp when the first cold raindrops touch your bare shoulder. You both get up quickly and run for cover ice cream long forgotten but the rain just pours and pours and both of you are drenched by the time you reach the nearby cave.

You look up at Leehan from under your wet eyelashes, shivering slightly and burst out laughing at the sight of his hair sticking to his face weirdly like a soaked puppy. You know you don’t look any better because you feel your hair weight over your shoulders like a rag. You try your best to tie it up, out of your eyes but Leehan is still staring.

“What?” You ask, self-conscious and shy under his intense stare. Then you are holding your breath because the boy lifts his right hand and touches your face. His touch burns and leaves goosebumps in its wake as he brushes another lock of hair behind your ear.

The rain is loud around you but it all sounds saturated right there, at the entrance of the small cave just by the beach. You tremble, not from the cold but something akin to anticipation.

Leehan’s gaze meets your eyes. There’s softness and wonder in the depth of his brown orbs. You take a shaky breath as he runs his fingers down the expanse of your bare arm until he finds your hand and then he chuckles and pulls you out into the pouring rain.

“Yah!” You scream at him but you laugh too, a childish feeling bubbling up in your chest.

You chase each other around on the beach. The sand is wet under your feet and the sea is cold when you end up knees deep, splashing water at each other as if you could be even more soaked. Your laughters echo in the cave and you feel the most alive in a while.

You still laugh about it when the next day you wake up with a cold and sore throat.

The push and pull between you is like the waves washing up the shore. There has to be a breaking point when it spills over. It happens in Leehan’s room when he finally shows you his fish family in person after chatting your ears off about them. The tank is bigger than you expected and it’s really nicely decorated, it’s clear that the boy put a lot of effort into it and you appreciate all the details. You’re too busy watching in awe as the tetras and shrimps swim around to notice the boy on the other side of the water wall until you catch his eyes on you. You blink in surprise and think that it’s unfair how handsome he looks even through two layers of glass and filtered water. Bashful, you straighten up at once and Leehan does the same on the other side.

“Was it like this? In the movie?” He asks, curiosity coloring his deep voice and your breath hitches because he remembers! It was something small you mentioned to him the second time you met and yet, he didn’t forget.

“Something like this,” you nod, still bewildered and breathing shallowly as the boy edges closer, leaning over the fish tank.

“What happens after?” Leehan’s voice is barely above a whisper as his gaze searches your face. Your fingers tremble, so you press them against the countertop for balance.

“Why do I have a feeling that you know?” You lower your voice too as if it was a secret and the thought of him looking up the movie just because you told him about it makes you feel mushy inside.

Leehan giggles and it's music to your ears, a beautiful sound.

Your eyes flutter closed when his lips graze against yours. It’s chaste and clumsy but his kiss tastes sweet like cherry lip balm and summer. You never want to forget this feeling.

What starts with a kiss between four walls ends up spilling all over the pages of your summer. It’s in the way you share looks and secret smiles over your grandmother’s shoulder, the way he holds your hand as you walk down the beach or the way every accidental touch sets your skin on fire. The way you talk on the phone until late on days when you can’t meet or how he notices the faintest burn mark on your fingertip from cooking and presses a kiss on it to ‘help it heal’. It's shared packs of gummies, sea-washed hearts drawn into sand, blush on cheeks and a secret held close to your heart. You still don’t talk about the future, about what it means even though you know you should. You should tell Leehan that it’s bound to end in heartbreak because you will leave eventually but for once you let yourself be selfish and pretend that you have all the time in the world. Or at least pretend that you have him.

It’s been almost two months since you have been in Busan and you have felt better than ever. No pressure on your chest anymore when you wake up, no breaking out in sweat when you see the calendar counting down days, no lack of motivation to go outside. However, one thing is enough to crash it all down. One simple thing.

You stare at your ringing, buzzing phone as if you could will it to stop just by looking at it hard enough. Your mother’s name on the screen is enough to make your stomach twist uncomfortably and you bite into your inside cheek so hard you taste iron as you swipe the call towards the green direction.

“Y/N,” your mother calls your name like a greeting. You hold your breath back, wondering if she will tell you that they missed you since you haven’t talked with them since you have left but you should have known not to get your hopes up.

“Did you decide on the next semester?” She asks, straight to the point as if that’s the only thing they care about. Maybe it is.

“No,” you mumble and you want to make yourself smaller when you hear your mother’s disappointed sigh. It’s bringing back ugly memories. The realization that their love is conditional hits you hard again.

“When are you coming back then? It’s been enough of a vacation already,” she says dismissively and you know too well that she doesn’t ask because she wants you back out of caring but because then she would have more leverage over you.

“I’m staying for the rest of summer,” you force yourself to remind her because no matter how guilty and ungrateful she makes you feel, you remember how hard it was to leave, to go against her in the first place, so you don’t want to go back, not until you are sure she cannot emotionally manipulate you into doing something you don’t want.

“What a waste of time. You should at least sign up for a language course–”

“I have to go. Sorry,” you hang up the call and only when you drop the phone onto the bed’s mattress you realize that you’re trembling. It’s when the tears are starting to sting your eyes. Your phone rings again, your mother’s contact haunting you like a ghost, so you switch the phone off entirely. You refuse to cry but the ugly sobs bubble up nevertheless and it’s all coming back.

It’s day three of shutting yourself in your room and not talking with everybody. You feel useless and stuck, just like the disappointment your mother thinks you are. When there’s a knock on your door, you think it’s your grandmother coming for the breakfast tray, so unsuspecting, you open it. You immediately wish you didn’t because in front of you stands Leehan with worry clear on his face. Or is it pity? In this mindset, it’s hard to tell.

“Your grandmother let me in. I couldn’t reach you,” The boy rushes to speak up, his voice stained with something heavy. “Are you… What’s wrong?” He corrects himself probably realizing that asking if you are okay would be a stupid question when you clearly aren’t.

“You should leave,” you croak out, your voice hoarse from disuse.

“Y/N, don’t,” Leehan pleads with sad eyes that beg to don’t push me away, don’t shut me out but you’re too used to dealing with things alone. “You don’t have to tell me but let me be here for you.”

It’s the gentleness in his request that makes you stall. He doesn’t force you to do anything, he just asks like he wants to be there. Like he doesn’t care that you look shitty and ignored him for days. You don’t deserve his kindness.

“Let me shower first,” you look away before opening your door wider to your curtained and stuffy room.

You open the window and grab some homey clothes from the gardrobe because you don’t want to stay in your pajamas next to the boy. Then you close yourself inside the bathroom, taking a too cold shower but by the end of it you actually feel a bit more like yourself. You walk back to your room in the new, clean clothes and wet hair, not ready to look Leehan in the eye, so you’re relieved when he doesn’t make you do that either. He just gently takes the towel from your hands and sits down behind you on the bed, massaging the soft material into your head. You let out a little choked up sound at the feeling of being cared for. You close your eyes to will yourself not to cry and Leehan doesn’t say anything, he just keeps drying your hair gently.

“My mother called,” you speak up after what feels like forever and yet not long enough. The boy hums quietly, showing that he’s listening but he lets you go on at your own pace. So you tell him about the pressure to do well at the CSAT exams and to get into a SKY uni, about falling out with your best friend because of competitive studying, about starting to hate it and how it ruined your relationship with your parents.

You speak and Leehan listens, then when there are no words and your heart feels like an empty shell, he holds you close. It feels like he holds all your broken, ugly pieces together.

It doesn’t happen from one day to another but things get better. You get better again. It’s the kind of progress that you have to do yourself but having your supportive grandparents and Leehan by your side definitely helps.

The boy comes over often in the beginning because you don’t yet feel like going out and being seen by people. Your grandfather mentions something about keeping your door open at all times but after realizing that all you do is watching documentaries on your laptop, reading books with your head in Leehan’s lap while he is on his phone or braiding each others’ hair, he doesn’t say anything anymore.

It takes a while to gather courage to tell everything to your grandparents too because it’s one thing opening up to Leehan but it’s about their daughter and you’re afraid that despite letting you stay here and not caring much about your education, they would take your mother’s side. Luckily, they understand.

“You could stay, you know. Your grandfather and I would be happy to have you here,” your granny reassures you with a hand on yours, soothing.

“It’s not that simple,” you let out a quiet sob because which ungrateful child doesn’t do what their parents want after the fortune they had spent on her education? It’s just university, you can bear it for a few years, says the little voice in your head, even if you hate it, even if your perfectionist tendencies will ruin the experience for you.

“It can be that simple. I will talk with your mother,” your grandpa exclaims and you know he would do so if you don’t stop him.

“Please don’t. It’s something I have to do myself,” you say because you can’t let others fight your battles for you, because it’s a step you need to take for the freedom you crave.

It’s scary still, preparing to tell your parents something you know they won’t like nor will they hesitate to try and change your mind.

Leehan squeezes your hand before leaving you alone to make the phone call. He doesn’t go far, you know that the farthest is the kitchen where your grandma will convince him to taste her cooking. You pace around in the room, giving yourself a pep talk, rehearsing your prepared speech a few times before hitting the call button.

It takes three rings for your mother to answer. Her voice is leveled and disinterested when she asks how you are. She doesn’t care, she only cares about what people will say about her if their A+ student daughter won’t go to university. But you won’t take her burdens on your shoulders anymore.

“I decided. I won’t start uni next semester. In fact, I will drop out,” you blurt out as quickly as possible, like ripping off a bandaid. You don’t let your voice waver no matter how nervous you feel. “Maybe one day I will attend a university but if I do, I will study something I would like to, something I'm actually interested in, not business,” you continue before your mother could interrupt you. “Thank you for supporting me through school but I’m old enough now to make my decisions, so I would rather pay you back for all that.”

Your parents are stunned to say the least. There comes a nicely wrapped threat about ‘their house, their rules’ but when that doesn’t work, they try to negotiate. They tell you that you will regret it, to think of all your wasted efforts and how lucky you are, then they want to talk in person. You say it wouldn’t change anything and telling them actually feels like a huge rock being lifted off your chest and you can finally breathe.

It becomes easier after that. The countdown stops and you can sleep properly. Summer ends and you start packing your bag. Going back to Seoul doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

You ask Leehan to meet you at the beach, your usual place, because he deserves to know. He brings fruits and jellies, an entire picnic. Your heart aches because he doesn’t know it’s goodbye. Or maybe he has a feeling since he has always had good intuitions and because this idyll was never meant to last longer than summer.

You eat and you talk while watching the waves and the clouds chase each other. Leehan tells you about the classes he has in the upcoming semester and his fish family updates. You tell him the latest anecdote about your grandparents because the atmosphere is too good to bring up you leaving so soon.

You watch the sunset together with his head on your thigh and your fingers raking through his soft hair, grazing across his reddened ears and the earring he wears. He’s illuminated by the oranges and goldens of the dying Sun and your heart shatters at the sight. He is so beautiful and you want to remember this moment forever.

When darkness settles, you take out sparklers, set them in the sand and cuddle until the last speck of light burns out, until you can see the constellations you cannot name clearly in the night sky.

“I go back to Seoul next week,” you whisper as you lie on the picnic blanket and watch the stars together. Leehan doesn’t say anything immediately and you don’t dare to turn to him. Not before you tell him why. “We will go to family therapy. It was mom’s idea but maybe it will do us good. I owe them at least this. They are trying.”

They might not be the best parents but you know that they mean well in their own way even if it’s not something you want. It’s already a big thing that they also realized that you need help to mend family ties. But that’s not the only reason why you’re leaving.

“I also need to figure out what I want to do for myself and not for others,” you admit in a small voice, barely audible.

You spent your teens working towards a goal your parents set for you and it made you miserable. You’re afraid of it happening again and that’s why you can’t stay in Busan no matter how at home you feel here. Because you know this is what your grandparents would want, because Leehan is here and it scares you that one day you will blame them for staying because you are too weak to make your own choices. So you need to decide on your own. You need to be sure you aren’t just running away from your problems.

Moments pass and the boy’s silence is unnerving. You wonder if he’s angry or if he’s sad. If anybody, you would think he understands but you cannot be sure and it’s killing you. When you turn to him, he moves too and suddenly you’re paper thin distance apart. When he pulls you against his chest, you can feel the rapid rhythm of his heart. When he speaks up, his melodic voice is shaky with unsaid emotions.

“I hope you can find what makes you happy,” he says as he strokes your back gently and it’s an i will miss you, i get it, i wish you the best all in one and tears pool up in your eyes, feeling touched and understood. You nuzzle closer, taking a deep breath full of Leehan’s signature scent of sea salt and sand and something sweet.

“I will miss you,” you whisper under the stars and they witness it as the closest thing you can manage to the confession you can’t say out loud. But it’s in your heartbeat and all your memories.

You and Leehan had all summer and it was golden. It was love even if you never said it out loud.

3 MONTHS LATER

Winter in Busan is kinder. It’s still cutting cold but not unforgiving like in Seoul. It's a roasted sweet potato smell and a stranger helping you with your big suitcase as you get off the train. One of the stores plays Christmas music while you are checking your phone to see if your driver has already arrived.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls for you and a smile blooms on your face, whipping your head towards the source of it. There he is in all his beauty, a fluffy scarf around his neck, a beanie on top of his head and his nose red.

You want to rush up to him but your suitcase is heavy and its wheel gets trapped in something, so you manage to trip and lose your balance. Luckily, Leehan is there to catch you and it’s déja vu, a reminder from the summer when you held onto him, another beginning.

“Careful,” the boy warns you with a chuckle as he lets go and looks down at you with a tender smile. You mimic his reaction, your heart getting wild in your chest that you finally see him again. “You are smiling. It’s pretty,” Leehan says in awe and you beam at him wider.

“I’m happy,” you tell him, honestly because he’s part of the reason why.

A lot has happened in the last three months since you left Busan. Family therapy wasn’t a piece of cake because admitting mistakes wasn’t your parents’ forte but it did help to salvage your relationship as a family. They stopped pushing you to choose a higher education and let you make your decisions yourself. First of those was to start tutoring high schoolers who wanted to get into a SKY university like you did. Even though you didn’t actually attend one, the admission letter was proof enough for many people and you realized you liked helping others. You also developed a teaching style that’s more compliment and reward-based than the strict hakwon style. Out of all subjects, you enjoyed teaching English the most, so when you not so accidentally came across an opening position in a language center in Busan, you applied right away.

The truth is you missed Busan. The freedom, the independence, the happiness you found here. And you missed your grandparents and Leehan the most. This time it’s not just a hideout where you come running away from your issues. This time, you come because you want to be here. It’s a home to return to.

Leehan takes your suitcase from you and walks you to the parking lot to his dad’s car. He got his license this fall for which you cheered him on all the way via texts the same way as he supported your teaching journey. You listen to the cheerful songs on the radio as he drives you to your grandparents’ house while talking about the train ride as if you haven’t been texting throughout it. It’s almost like nothing changed and yet, everything did.

“Leehan-ah,” your grandmother coos when you arrive, welcoming the boy with a warm hug.

“Hey,” you pout pseudo-sulky because shouldn’t she greet you first? Her one and only granddaughter? She should take notes from your grandpa.

“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart,” your grandma singsongs before wrapping you in her embrace too, all warm and loving. Immediately after she starts listing down your favorites that she has been cooking since morning but you shush her because you should at least pack your stuff in your room. Leehan offers to help with your luggage and the two of you go up the stairs while you hear your grandparents ‘whisper’ about when to bring out the cake. It makes you chuckle. It makes you happy.

“Actually, I bought you something, too,” Leehan speaks up, his ears as red as his nose but you aren’t sure it’s from the cold outside.

“Oh, what is it?” You ask, surprised but curious and when he nods towards your room’s door. You give him a quizzical look before pushing down the handle.

At first nothing stands out, it’s almost like how you left it months ago but then in a flash of gold you notice one striking difference. There it is, unmistakable, a fish bowl with a single goldfish and some rocks and coral decoration in it on your desk.

“It’s not exactly a fish tank you must have wanted but it’s better to start small,” Leehan explains with a smile in the corner of his mouth and you realize once again just how much he sees and understands you, he always has.

“Thank you! I love it so much!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around the boy, giggling into his chest.

You fussing over your new pet fish is interrupted by your grandma inviting you down for lunch and suddenly it’s like nothing has changed since summer. Leehan is welcomed at your table as if it’s the most natural thing and your grandpa is still teasing your grandma about making way too much food. They keep asking you about your job too as if you knew anything more than what you told them on the phone.

After lunch, you help clean the table while your grandpa keeps Leehan busy by asking him about something he saw on the internet. When your grandma sees you stealing glances, she nudges you in the side and tells you to walk him out with a knowing look which makes you roll your eyes as if you didn’t yearn for more alone time with the boy.

So here you are right at the gate, knowing full well that your grandparents are watching through the window, fidgeting with your scarf, not knowing how to say goodbye even though you will probably see him tomorrow after work. Eventually it’s Leehan who speaks up.

“Y/N,” he calls your name and it sounds so sweet from his mouth, you feel degrees warmer in the cold of winter.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to call your name. I still can’t believe you’re here,” the boy chuckles sheepishly and you realize it’s not only you who’s nervous. But maybe there’s no reason to. Now you know what you want.

“I’m here and I’m staying,” you promise and when Leehan smiles, the mole on his left cheek moves upwards and you tiptoe to peck him right on it. He has a hand on your arm as you descend down flat to your feet and his gaze is stuck on you. You’re mesmerized as you watch all his moles and acne spots and his boyish beauty that makes your heart flutter. You stand so close that you can see the snowflakes melting over his eyelashes and that’s when you notice it.

“Oh, look, it’s snowing!” You squeal with childlike wonder as you look up at the sky and try to catch the floating snowflakes on your palm.

Leehan hums quietly but his voice is playful when he asks:

“Do you know what they say about the first snow?”

You blink at his sudden question, cheeks growing pink and hot as the boy leans closer.

“You’re as smooth as ever,” you mumble, shy, because of course you know the saying about couples’ love being long-lasting if they witness the first snow together.

Your first kiss tasted sweet like cherry jellies but this one tastes like forever locked in a touch. You had the summer together but now you have all the seasons ahead of you and you can’t wait to walk them through together with Leehan.

#stories #boynextdoor x reader #bnd x reader #leehan x reader #bnd fluff #bnd angst #leehan fluff #leehan angst

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austinsastrology8991 · 2 years ago

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> SUN IN THA HOUSE < and whY yoU Be like dat

Sun is our focal point, its our brightest star > you force others to look at you and look at themselves by your star quality <

Sun in the First - Everyone knows them, and they make it a fact that if you don't see them then your the one who is blind. They have a confident swagger, but arrogance to them that begs for the attention of all around them, and everyone is locked in on how or why they have such a powerful presence. Their smiles are contagious too. Also somehow always in the perfect place to say some funny ass shit and keep their style points that they been racking up over the years "You know. You all know exactly who I am. Say my name" - W.W 'breaking bad'

Sun in the Second - Did I stutter? Im talking about what I need not what I want. These guys are possessed by themselves and everyone loves it. So focused so self contained, they don't want nothing to do with you if you can't help them achieve their goals, and that attitude is sticky and everyone wanna be glued to em because they are destined for success. So they are constantly deciding who they want to share their gifts with, because they know they got it, what you got? "Money, money, money, money, money ain't the motive, What's your name again? Nobody knows it, Don't speak to me n***a, you not important, Im focused" - Tyler, the creator 'smuckers'

Sun in the Third - The whizz kid who didn't study, but stole the test papers and told everyone the wrong answers and kept all the right ones to himself. They are smart and they dont need you to tell them this they just want some more god damn answers. And thats what frustrates everyone, because they know so much already, why they still searching? Well thats how they got so smart dummy "That's why they put my lyrics up under this microscope Searching with a fine tooth comb, it's like this rope Waiting to choke, tightening around my throat Watching me while I write this, like, "I don't like this note" - Eminem 'white america'

Sun in the Fourth - The sentimental cry baby that everyone loves to cuddle. Emotional but people find it adorable. They are the rock you can cry on if you want a rock to cry on. Nah but if you need a safe place to cry, you can cry to them, they'll protect you from the harsh waves of others emotional projections, because they get it, even when everyone else refuses to. But don't use em because that'll force them to block you out, and this decision will cause a emotional rollercoaster for the both of you and they'll blame you for it even if it was their decision "And I am done changing words, Just so my songs sound prettier, I just don't care if it hurts, 'Cause it hurts me too" - Faye Webster 'hurts me too'

Sun in the Fifth - The walking confetti explosion, always turnt up and if you trynna lower the volume then they'll oblige ya just so when the volume inevitably goes up again, they'll make it a point that its always more fun with the party up then down. Charming chameleons that are cheesin about the colours they managed to pull off. Watch em dance, watch em sing, watch em do a funny, they can do it all and laugh while doing it, the vibe is them and they are so good at inviting people in on the little big party they got going on "Man I just wanna go flex, Gold on my teeth and on my neck, And I'm stone cold with the flex, With my squad and I'm smokin' up a check" - Post Malone 'go flex'

Sun in the Sixth - Typeracer.com - nah but seriously they always working on themselves and comparing themselves just to make sure their progress is more than what they expected and way more than what others expected of them. Because they here for a reason, and they will never let a opportunity slip, because if they do, they'll stay awake over it for years, and they done wasting their good years. Basically Peggy Olsen "And when your album sales wasn't doing too good, Who's the Doctor they told you to go see? Y'all better listen up closely, All you n***s that said that I turned pop, Or The Firm flopped. Y'all are the reason that Dre ain't been getting no sleep" - Dr Dre 'forgot about dre'

Sun in the Seventh - I gotchu what you need? true homies always putting others before them, and i know this gets a bad rap these days but if you ever get one of these friends. Do yourself a favour and stop telling them to stand up for themselves, because they still standing with the weight of everyone else on they shoulders. This way they show others the power of communication. And they still sticking it to everyone who tell em otherwise, so please tell me how they not standing up for themselves? They the loyalist, you got no idea how many people rely on em and thats their pride "Every step I take, every move I make (ohh, I'll miss you), Every single day, every time I pray, I'll be missing you (yeah, yeah, yeah), Thinkin' of the day, when you went away, What a life to take, what a bond to break, I'll be missing you" - Diddy 'missing you'

Sun in the Eighth - Who went to hell and back? Well they went to a version of it. And they are done hearing whatever you done, because what they did beats your hell tenfold. They don't even wanna put you in your place because they don't wanna hear your attempts to disapprove of them because they've overcome more than some bullshit shit talking. Just put some respect on their name thats all they want. And if not it's easy pickens because think they worse than you, and if you done worse, they don't mind going badder, so be careful, they'll do it. They careful about not being careful so be careful "No I don't worry, I tell you, I'm a man who believes that I died twenty years ago, And I live like a man who is dead already, I have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything" - Skepta 'no security'

Sun in the Ninth - I WOKE UP IN NEW BUGgATTI is how they live their lives, except miss the bugatti but keep the caps lock on. They live by a set of moral philosophies to help them get by and to find excitement/ enjoyment outta life, because they refuse to be a follower, they've seen how sad everyone else is and they just trynna make sure it don't work out that way for them. Educated idiots; making up the rules as they learn the rules to live by their own rules. They lead their own life and it rubs off on everyone on how you should live your own life > teetering the edge of danger and fortune. Also someone who'll give it to you the realest despite being the biggest clown "Black kid get shot, white man get tazed, Media spread lies, politicians get paid, Doctors wanna drug you up so you can reach an early grave, Prisons wanna lock you up so they can fill up every cage Make fifty cents an hour, they gon' work you like a slave, Government gon' play dumb but they know everythin' " - Meechy Darko 'kill us all'

Sun in the Tenth - "Who speaking about me? oh. he ain't shit" - they acting better than everyone, and its fake until it isnt. No one knows when they made it because they always acted like they did. They dont brag they let the audience speak their volumes, hum their symphonies, play their drums, tickle their balls, and they just the orchestrator of it all. Because they doin the most, and they know everyone gonna talk about it so no need to even speak on it. Classy about it too. They on the top and they don't wanna leave so they acting humble but everyone know they really feelin themselves, but hey who wouldn't "I might be too strung out on compliments, Overdosed on confidence, Started not to give a fuck and stopped fearing the consequence, Drinkin' every night because we drink to my accomplishments" - Drake 'headlights'

Sun in the Eleventh - Trend setters who leave their shit stains on every social setting they enter. They got this influence about them thats hard not to notice, because they have at least three people fawning over em, and they not doing shit. Always trying to spread their influence, so if you want someone to back you its them, because their word is worth more due to their connections. And the easiest way to connect is technology and they all up in the software and getting a hard drive about it. They say some outta pocket shit, but thats where the influenza comes from I guess. They somehow everywhere and no where at the same damn time "It's ironic you talk jail time, But you ain't never seen no central booking (yeah) It's ironic you hang with a n***a that beat women And have the nerve to call yourself "Girl Pusher" Wow! You ain't real, I'm gonna show you how I really feel - JPEGMAFIA 'baby im bleeding'

Sun in the Twelfth - Lonely introspective dreamy creative types. Is what you could say if you wanna sum them up. But there is much more to them, but they are so afraid of letting anyone in because they are so sensitive. Their empathy and ability to look at things from different perspectives is what sets them apart, and they want to be set apart, because they feel alone, and don't wanna pretend they your friend if they ain't. They are extremely creative to a fault, and a lot of people would rather make fun of their works then celebrate how special it is. Until it is widely acknowledged how gifted they are, then everyone will switch up around them. But they will never forget who said what, because they above the whats; aint got time for someone who thought they were just a what "'Cause I'm out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own, I told you I was out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own,I fell down to Earth, From a hundred miles away and somehow I still make it work, But it's overrated and somehow played out" - Oliver Tree 'alien boy'

#sun in the houses #astrology #astrology blog #astrology observations #astrology placements #astro community #astrology notes #house placements #astrology houses

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builtbybrokenbells · 9 months ago

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Rotten Apple | JTK

Karmic relationships indicate feeling or expressing a passionate response very early on in a relationship. Oftentimes, instant chemistry is mutually felt. Sometimes, the drain of that connection or addiction to a partner is described as exhausting rather than feeling calmly settled in a grounded partnership. (Elizabeth Keohan, LCSW-C, LICSW, LCSW)

Listen while reading: (the entire fic is based off this song so I highly suggest at least reading the lyrics before reading 😁)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING AS THIS STORY COULD BE POTENTIALLY HARMFUL/UPSETTING TO SOME READERS//SMUT 18+, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), sir kink, choking, touch of orgasm denial, dom/sub, possessiveness, jealousy, degradation, name calling, praise, rough sex, toxic themes/relationships, heavy implications/explanations of cheating/infidelity, actual cheating/infidelity, chronic cheaters, gaslighting/manipulative phrases, fighting, arguing, crying, insulting, mentions of bad relationships/relationship trauma, mistresses/home wrecking, self hatred/self sabotage, remorse/regret, depression, anxiety, (lots) angst, (some) fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

and im back 😙 please tread carefully with this one if any of the aforementioned warnings are personal to you. this definitely isn’t some people’s cup of tea! aside from that, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (so sorry, very lightly edited. just wanted to get this posted so i can keep going with more stuff 😁) (also another side note, I do not condone cheating at all. was just an idea that sparked some creativity is all)

Innocence is over

Hey ah na na, over

Ignorance is spoken

Hey ah na na, spoken

Confidence is broken

Hey ah na na broken

Sustenance is stolen

Hey ah na na, stolen

Arrogance is potent

Hey ah na na, potent, yeah

“Y/N!” Your name screamed over the busy chatter of the crowd around you, catching your attention and turning your head.

House parties had always been so overrated, and since high school, it seemed the scene hadn’t changed a bit. Even in your late twenties, the spill of alcohol on the floor made your soles sticky and the haze in the air choked you as you breathed. The home you were in was familiar, but certainly not comfortable, and the memories that lived inside the walls were haunting as they flashed before your eyes. The crowd of people around you only made it harder to escape the stalemate remembering had put you in. Still, you pushed a smile on to your face, holding the hand in yours a little tighter as you marched forward toward the greeting.

So many questions flooded your mind as you closed in on the perpetrator of your punishment. You knew they would all be here; they invited you, after all. The text message exuding formalities and lacking substance was the whole reason you stepped foot in the door in the first place, and you knew without a doubt that they would be waiting to greet you soon as you showed.

Well, three of them, anyway.

You swallowed your pride, leading your company through the swarm of bodies. The weaving was tiresome, and you had only just begun navigating your way through an exhausting journey. It was too early to be tired, too soon to be so cynical, yet it was all you could do. Something about the story was too repetitive for you to believe the night would end any differently than you imagined when you received the invitation.

The questions continued to beat against your skull, twisting around the guitar riffs and raspy voices flowing through the speakers in the living room. It made for a violent pair, and your eyes began aching from the pressure behind them. Your body was telling you it was a bad idea, but you couldn’t listen. You had faith that the night would be different, that you would be different, stronger than you were before.

You could turn around, submit to your already guilty conscience and run out the door. You could pretend you never heard your name at all, and more importantly, pretend you never read the message in the first place. You responded too fast to a person who should have been long deleted from your contact list, but if you played the game well enough, you could climb out of the hole you already dug yourself in. You could come out on top of this, you could conquer the world that previously held you back from succeeding. All it took was turning around, leaving, walking away from him.

For some reason, your feet continued forward, neglecting every warning your psyche could give. They carried you far enough that you landed before the person you knew you should walk away from.

No, not the person.

Just the closest one to him.

“Hey, Josh.” His name felt like poison on your tongue, already seeping through the gaps of your teeth and searing holes into the flesh. You could feel the pain deep into your jaw, running down the back of your throat and circling around your neck. The sensation was lethal, but it was addicting. Something about the brothers made you a sucker for the pain. You hated the names now, but you hated yourself more for never having the willpower not to speak them.

“I’m glad you came! I didn’t really think you would message me back.” He confessed, leaping forward and extending his arms outward.

He wanted a hug, innocent and warm, a sure way to greet you with all of the love he still had for you.

To you, it was none of those things. Instead, it served as a reminder of your catastrophic failures and the life you once lived. A life that was painful, ugly and cruel, but still seemed shiny, like a dream you craved to see in your deepest sleep. The person that used to hug Josh Kiszka was not someone you wanted to be, but it was someone you could not escape, someone who only showed herself when she was around him. You could not be around Josh without being near him, too, and for that reason alone you had pinned Josh with his brothers crimes, too.

Still, your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer and torturing yourself with the scent of his cologne. As his arms closed in around you, the anguish of the familiar touch nearly sent you to your knees.

It wasn’t the same, but it was the closest thing to what you truly wanted.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I figured I’d stop by and say hi at least.” You replied, your head still swimming with uncertainty over the interaction. “I should probably be on my way soon, anyway. I can’t stay long.”

“Oh come on, stay a while! Don’t leave yet, you just got here!”

What game was he playing?

He knew the consequences of your presence in their lives, and he was lighting a match that would fuel an unstoppable fire.

“Maybe just for a little while.” You gave a soft smile, hiding your longing for the connection you had so long ago. His words were kind, more generous than they should be, but the weight of your past mistakes were heavy between you.

Maybe that was why you didn’t have the heart to turn him down. Subconsciously, you were stuck in some repetitive cycle of trying to right wrongs you were not fully responsible for.

“Who is this, anyway?” Josh turned to the man standing next to you, eyeing him carefully as he took in the sight before him. His gaze traveled from his face down to his arm, piecing it together once he saw your fingers still interlocked with his.

“This is Cole…” you said, slowly while Josh’s eyes moved back to meet your own. “My boyfriend.” You didn’t need to say the word. The implication was already painfully obvious, and all you did was rub salt in your open wounds.

Why did you bring him with you?

Why did you come at all?

“I see,” Josh grinned, but it was just as fake as your own cheeriness. You were both thinking the same thing, without a doubt for the future when the night came to an end. “It’s nice to meet you, Cole. I’m Josh.” He extended his hand for your new boyfriend to shake, the formality only slightly off putting as Josh’s eyes remained locked with yours.

‘Not tonight, Josh. Not this time.’ You tried to plead with him, silently telling him that tonight would be different than all the ones that came before. ‘It’s different now. You have to believe me.’

He did not, and you could not blame him. You did not even believe yourself.

By the end of the night, your relationship with the boy beside you would be no more. Jake Kiszka would see to that, and your undying desire for him would solidify it. It was a matter of time before you crossed his path, and not long after that would the incessant cycle resume exactly where it left off.

“Nice to meet you man.” Your boyfriend's voice was cheerful, and unlike yours, genuine. If only he knew the hurt he would endure, he would have left long before he ever experienced love at your hands.

No matter how hard you tried, it always ended the same way. No matter who it was, they were never able to compare to the boy who forever stole your heart.

“So how do you two know each other?” Cole asked, looking down at you now. You bit the tip of your tongue, standing stoic for a moment as you tried to come up with a quick lie. Without being too obvious, you tried to silently warn Josh to keep his mouth shut. You should have known better.

You have always known better.

“She’s never told you about Jake?” Josh laughed, finding the notion incredulous. He was too drunk to lie, but it wasn’t like he could ever do it sober. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes pointed towards the floor, feeling your heart jump to your throat and your head begin to ache. The poison of Jake’s name melted your tongue entirely, leaving you wordless and unable to defend yourself.

“Jake?” Your boyfriend asked, wearily speaking the name aloud as if it were a curse he was desperate to avoid. “Your uh… your ex?” He wanted clarification, or assurance that he was wrong, but it was something you could not give to him because he was right.

“Y-yeah.” You choked out, feeling your throat begin to close and air become scarce. “This is his brother.”

Innocence is over

Cole formed a tight-lipped smile, but did not let go of your hand. In an instant, he understood that attending the house party was not a mindless effort at a drunken date. He was not meeting your old friends, and he was not out to have a good time. Instead, the intent ran much deeper, and he was being used in a pissing contest for bragging rights to the ex he had always felt inferior to.

You wanted to assure him it wasn’t like that, but it was, and speaking would get you no further ahead of the game.

Why would Josh tell him? Why would he say it like that, as if Jake was the reason why you were there?

You closed your eyes, silencing your brain for a moment as you digested the truth.

Jake was the reason why you were there, and he was trying to spare Cole the heartbreak.

“He was barely an ex, Cole. You know that.” You spoke, bargaining with the distaste already forming in his heart.

Out of all of the dishonesty you had already dealt, that was the truth. An ex was not what you would classify Jake as, because you barely dated him. In fact, you hadn’t really dated him at all. You spent weeks secluded behind the walls of the very house you stood in now, nights wrapped up in him, tainting his sheets with the smell of your shampoo, but you were never his girlfriend.

You wanted to believe that if you had stayed just a little while longer, gave him a little bit more, maybe you would have been, but holding on to that belief was painful more than it ever served a comfort.

“Right,” he whispered, his hand still in yours. It felt wrong, just like it had the first time he ever held it. Cole never should have been in the middle of this, because he never should have been yours at all. You had no idea why you ever said yes to the title of girlfriend, because you never wanted it, and you had no idea why you invited him here tonight, especially knowing how it would end.

“Either way, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see Jake, I came to see you.” You said, pointing the finger at Josh to get yourself out of the spotlight. “You asked me, remember? What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to celebrate your new album?” You forced another smile, begging them both to believe that’s why you really showed up. Cole seemed to relax slightly at the sound of your words, but his chest still ached at the idea of being in Jake Kiszka’s house.

Was Josh encouraging you to fall back into old habits? Was Josh playing martyr for a cause that would only hurt everyone in the crossfire?

You could not believe he wanted to see you, because if he missed you so much, he would have shown up at your door. You would have went for coffee or shared dinner like you did so many times before, but instead he invited you to a party hosted by the one man you needed to stay away from.

“The worst.” He joked, playing along with your poor excuses. An awkward silence hung heavy between the the three of you. Nobody knew what to say, because no words could ever turn the conversation to a positive tone.

“Did you want a drink, baby?” Cole asked, looking over his shoulder to the liquor bottles on the kitchen table. You followed his gaze, eager for him to leave you alone so you could pry into Josh’s head.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, giving him a smile.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He said, clearly looking for a way out of the tense situation.

“I’ll be right here.” You promised. He seemed reluctant to leave you, but after a shared glance and silent reassurance, he retreated to the kitchen.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Josh again, desperate for an answer.

“Why did you invite me, Josh?” You asked, your tone turning grievous in an instant. The sweetness you held seconds before disappeared without a trace.

“He wanted me to.” Josh admitted, giving a shrug of his shoulder. “I didn’t know you’d bring a date.” He continued, his words more accusatory than you liked.

“Is it a crime?”

“When you know the consequences, yeah.” He answered, truthful with his response. “Listen, I’m happy to see you, Y/N. Whatever the fuck happens between you and Jake is none of my business. You’re my friend, and I’m glad you came, but I do think that you should be mindful of him before anything happens.”

“I’m not here to see Jake, Josh. I came because you invited me, because we’re friends. Remember, before all of this shit happened?”

“How could I forget?” He chuckled, thinking back fondly on the memories. Josh had been your friend first, the whole reason you knew Jake at all, but after all of the pain, your friendship with him seemed to get lost in the mess. “As much as I’d like to believe that you’re here to see me, we both know it’s not true.” He paused, thinking carefully before he spoke again. “And as much as I don’t want your new guy to get hurt, it would be nice to see you and Jake catch up, especially after it ended the way it did.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to him, Josh.” You crossed your arms over your chest, accentuating the cleavage in your already skimpy dress. You had picked it with Jake in mind, even if you would never admit it.

“You have lots to say, mama. We all know that.”

With that, a body presented itself beside you again and a drink was being offered to you. You sent Josh a pointed stare, letting the action finish the conversation for good. Josh nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze before walking away.

Cole noticed, and you couldn’t blame him for his questioning gaze, but it did irritate you beyond belief. He was treading in waters too dangerous to survive.

Instead of asking, he opted to keep quiet in fear of the answer he would receive.

Ignorance is spoken

“It’s really nice of you to support Josh like that, even after Jake fucked you over.” Cole said, sending a small smile your way. You took a moment to admire him, his beauty, and his bare-faced stupidity.

“We’ve been friends for a long time. It’s the least I could do.” You shrugged, brushing off his sweet sentiments.

Cole knew you were not there to support Josh, but he was forcing himself to believe it. It was easier for him to digest, thinking that your intentions were friendly and honest. When he focused on the alternative for too long, he thought he would be sick.

Before you could respond, you were pulled into a whirlwind of emotion as your eyes fixated on something within the crowd. In the distance, you saw a flash of familiar brown hair. The sight made your stomach turn and your palms turn clammy.

He wanted you to come.

Josh’s words repeated in your head, making it hard to think of anything else. Jake wanted you there. He asked for you. He knew you would never answer if he asked you himself, because you had never been keen on giving him what he wanted.

That was yours and Jake's biggest problem; you wanted too much from each other, and neither of you had ever been very generous. He wanted more than you could give, and you wanted what he could not provide.

Despite knowing that about yourselves, there was this incessant temptation in both of your minds, forcing you to believe that you were the best the other could ever get, even if it never worked out, and even if all it ever caused was pain.

The familiar head was not pointed in your direction, but you were certain it would be soon. The two of you had an awful attachment to one another, the bond extending into the realm of spirituality and likely even far beyond it. If you walked in a room, he knew, no matter how far away or how invested he was in something else. If you left, your absence hung heavy in the air and haunted him, even if he did not witness you leave. He was completely in tune with you, knowing your next move without you saying a word.

Even if you tried to ignore it, you knew you felt it just the same when it came to his presence and absence.

He was a habit you couldn’t kick, a guilty pleasure and an addiction far more lethal than one to substance. You would search for him in every room, cry out for him and him alone in the darkest nights, and long for his company after he disappeared from sight. His voice was like venom, seeping under your skin and tainting the blood supply the minute it reached your ears. His eyes, easy to get lost in and your definite demise.

He was not good for you, and he never would be, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him. He was the most karmic relationship you’d ever engaged in, punishing you for wrongs you’d committed long before you met him. At the same time, he was making you engage in far more at his hand than you ever believed possible. You didn’t want to want him, but it was impossible to deny. The thought of not needing him was obsolete, because you never knew a moment of peace after he walked into your life.

You could not be with him, and you knew even in the future it would never be in your cards, either. For some reason, even while knowing he was actively ruining your life, you jumped at the chance to love him one more time. You destroyed every opportunity given to you in favor of his twisted agenda, and you did it without regret or second thought. New relationships blossomed after he walked away from you, and failed when he decided to walk your way again. You needed to stay away, to put a boundary in place, but you loved his sin too much to refute it.

You had slowly come to terms with the fact Jake Kiszka would be your kryptonite until you took your dying breath. He was inescapable, and even if you would never truly be his, he would always have a part of you.

No, he would always have all of you, but he would never be yours to keep.

And just like the world ensured it a million times before, the head turned, and the familiar brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul once more.

You couldn’t run, because he would always find you. You couldn’t run to him, because the boy by your side would know the truth behind the situation you had been trying so hard to keep a handle on. You were stuck, glued to the floor and locked in position until he decided to walk your way.

He was in control, and always had been. Since the moment you met him, you were happy to leave your fate in his hands, blindly trusting a man who only ever did what he could to fuck you over.

You couldn’t see all of his face, but you knew how beautiful he looked despite the crowd standing in his way. You could picture it crystal clear, the pout of his lips and the heavy-lidded eyes filled with lust. You knew the wrinkled furrow of his brow better than anything else in the world, and the softness of his skin and how good it felt under your touch.

As he stared, only his eyes visible to you, you knew he was envisioning all the same things.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Cole asked, his voice concerned. His hand on your back was excruciating, the overwhelming feeling of wrongness growing by the second.

You wanted to tell him, to send him away before he met the same fate as everyone who came before him, yet you couldn’t bear the thought of confessing all of your secrets to him. Some small part of you even believed you could avoid it this time, even whilst you felt the gravitational pull all the way across the room and through the crowd. You wanted to be the good guy and spare him, and you wanted to be the best person and end the cycle, but you knew neither would happen.

There were two reasons why you could not do those things; one being that Jake Kiszka made you into the worst version of yourself, and two, he was walking towards you now with no intent to slow.

“I-I’m okay,” you tried to assure him, but your voice was shaky and your words were weak. It did not take a genius to understand why, and as his eyes moved to look in the same direction of yours, his stomach was sick with fear. He did not know Jake by looks, but he knew you, and he knew that your pompous reaction would not be caused by anything other than him.

“Y/N, let’s go.” Cole said, trying to get you out of the situation before it began, but you were already in his sight, and there was no shying away. The hunter settled on prey, and you could only hope that Jake had enough kindness left in his heart to spare you from the suffering he so often inflicted upon you.

“I-I can’t.” You shook your head, noticing his grip move to your arm. He was trying to force you away, almost as if he knew his fate before it began to unfold.

“The fuck you can’t.” He scoffed, nudging you in the opposite direction of the man approaching you. “Let’s go.” He said again, harsher than the last.

You should listen.

You should leave.

It was too late, anyway. Your choosing of Jake over anyone else was a disaster, but it was something no outward intervention could have possibly changed. It was your own personal law, and when it came to a competition between Jake and anyone else, the contender always lost.

He was in front of you again. Months of static silence and breaking hearts, months of longing and yearning for something you could not have, finally came to a bitter end. It had been so long since you were face to face with Jake that you almost managed to forget how intoxicating his aura was. Almost, being the key word, because deep down you knew you would never forget a thing about him.

“Long time no see, sweetheart.” His voice was like liquid gold, washing down over you and curing any ailment that plagued you. The pout of his lip had only become more irresistible, and his chocolate coloured irises locked you in for eternity. Even if you wanted to leave, you knew it to be impossible.

“Could have kept it that way.” You replied, your lips turning down into a slight frown. Your eyes, though, told a much different story that he was quite privy to. You were good at keeping the feelings between the two of you a secret to anyone looking in, but inside, you were dying for him to touch you. Just once, just for a second so you could ascend to heaven again. It was a feeling only he could give, and you had been deprived of it for a long time, constantly in search of the high since his absence began.

“Right,” he chuckled, remembering your snarky tone all too well. “That’s why you came to my house? To bitch at me for saying hi?” His words were evil, and so was his tone, but you nearly went weak in the knees hearing the domineering voice once again. His eyes held emotion different from the venom of his words, and you could feel how thrilled he was to see you again.

“It wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t bitching at you for something, Jacob.” You reminded, keeping your expression stony so he could not use anything to his advantage.

“Of course, angel. It’s what I love most about you.” He smirked, nodding in agreement. You noticed his eyes flicker to the man beside you, the one holding your arm so tightly in hopes he could pull you away. Jake bit back a bigger smile, knowing there was nothing strong enough in the world to pull you away from him.

His black dress shirt was held together by the bottom three buttons. A fitted suit jacket was settled neatly atop it, but it was not screaming anything overly fancy. The cheap necklaces around his neck dumbed down the expensive clothing, but you cursed how remarkably well it worked together. His dress pants hugged his hips, and the tanned skin of his chest held your attention. It was not the clothes that sent you mad, but the fact you had before studied the beautiful intricacies that lie beneath.

“Are you going to introduce me to your little friend?” He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, raising his eyebrow in inquiry.

Little was a term he used only to assert his dominance. Cole stood heads taller, and his shoulders were much wider, but in the moment, Jake appeared much bigger than the man beside you. His ego was so large that it left no space in the room for anyone else, and his confidence made Cole pale in comparison to him.

“Boyfriend.” Cole corrected, his jaw clenched and his grip on you growing tighter by the minute. At that, Jake laughed out loud, unable to hold his feelings on the matter. Cole swallowed back the bitter taste it left in his mouth, but opted not to respond.

“Okay.” Jake nodded, looking back to you for clarification. “Your boyfriend.” He reworded his question, putting emphasis on the term and making it painfully apparent he had no interest in talking to Cole at all.

“This is Cole.” Was all you said, your nostrils flaring slightly at Jake’s egotistical expression. As much as you craved for him to touch you, you weren’t blind to his abhorrent tendency towards cockiness.

“You move on quick, sweetheart.” He noted, glancing back at the other man for a moment. You scowled at his willingness to shame you for dating another when he was the one who drove you to it in the first place. Before you could comment on his misplaced belief, a blonde haired woman appeared beside him, making the situation all the more tense. You forced a smile on your lips, watching closely as she clumsily grabbed his arm, claiming her territory without a trace of humility.

“Seems like you do, too.” You shot back, biting down on the tip of your tongue hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled your senses, but the pain did nothing to deter the rise of anger in your chest.

She did not say a word, but she did not have to. She was the same to Jake as Cole was to you: a placeholder.

As much as you were a victim to Jake, he was just the same to you.

You moved on, found another to replace the hole he left in you when he walked away. He found her, hoping she would feel as good in his arms as you did, but she could never give him the same thing. She could try until the end of time, but both of you knew she could never come close.

“Was nice seeing you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” His words were equal to a dismissal of the conversation, but his eyes spoke something completely different. He wasn’t done, and neither were you. He approached you with intent to start anew, and he would see through to it no matter who got caught in the crossfire.

He slung a lazy arm around her waist, giving you a subtle wink before pulling her off in the same direction they came.

You thought you were going to be sick, your entire body aching with the knowledge he was touching someone other than you. You wondered if you loving someone else plagued him with the same illness, or if he viewed it as a game. You constantly feared that he did not feel for you what you felt for him, but you’d always been too afraid to ask.

“What a fucking douchebag.” Cole muttered, only loosening his grip on you after Jake was out of sight. As he let go, you raised your opposite hand to the same spot, rubbing the sore skin where his fingers rested moments before.

“He’s not that bad, Cole.” The defense slipped out without a second thought, and his misplaced confidence was shattered entirely. You looked up at his face, wide eyed and regretful of your words, but the damage was done and a fight was unavoidable.

Confidence is broken

“Not that bad?” He echoed, practically scoffing the words out.

“Yeah, Cole. Not that bad.” You repeated, rolling your eyes. “He’s full of himself, yeah, but when you get to know him, he’s actually got a pretty good heart.”

“Good enough heart to fuck someone else in your bed?” He questioned, remembering the tearful stories you had told after too much wine. Your expression dropped, your heart plummeting to your stomach as you were forced into a memory you were committed to forgetting. “Did you actually come here to see him?”

“Yeah, he’s an alright person, but a shitty fucking boyfriend.” You nodded, swallowing back the lump forming in your throat. “Which is why I’m dating you, and not him.” You clarified, averting your gaze to the ground. “No, I didn’t come here to fucking see him, Cole.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, realizing his harsh words were not needed.

At the same time, they were. You were playing the victim to avoid being the bad guy. You hated being the bad guy, and when it came to Jake, you couldn’t seem to escape the title.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” You forced the words through your teeth, feeling the whirlwind of memories wash over you like acid rain. Your skin burned as they continued to flow, and you knew that you would die before you could ever outrun them.

“Babe, come on.” He pleaded, reaching out for your shoulder to hold you in place. You shook him off as soon as his fingers connected with your body, stepping away without a second thought.

Without any regret, you left him amidst the swarm of people in the house of your ex whom you knew you’d end up in bed with by the end of the night.

Even though the thought normally settled your upset stomach, not even the promise of sex with Jake could cure the sickness that washed over you. Remembering was the biggest curse of your entire relationship, and unfortunately for you, most of your relationship was remembering. You went without him more often than you were with him, and even the sweetest of memories were tainted with sins and sourness.

You navigated your way to the bathroom blind, your sight ridden with pictures of Jake shirtless in your bed, and worst of all, shirtless in bed with someone else.

If not for you knowing the house so well, you would have gotten lost in the endless sea of flashbacks.

From the very beginning, yours and Jake’s relationship was bound to fail. It began from lies and deceit, and it would carry on the same way until the next bitter end.

“And this is my twin brother, Jake, and his girlfriend, Suzanne.”

“You can call me Suz,” she flashed you a breathtaking smile, extending her arm towards you.

You barely registered her hand in your face, nor her friendly introduction, because you were too busy gawking at the blinding beauty of the long haired man beside her. You cleared your throat, swallowing hard and blinking twice to bring yourself back to reality. Even as you reached to shake her hand, you were unable to focus on her. As disrespectful as it was, even if it was her boyfriend, he was someone who was meant to be admired.

Plus, his wandering eyes and lustful gaze made it all the more easy to completely discredit the woman offering you her kindness.

Of course, it started that night. It started the minute his eyes locked with your own, like an unavoidable omen of the horror you would soon endure. The connection was instantaneous, and the desire followed not far behind. Although you didn’t sleep with Jake the first night you met him, you were no better than a mistress without ever taking your clothes off.

It started with lustful glances, then came the flirting in secrecy. Within days, he was going out of his way to catch you in the hallway or alone in a room to profess his affection for you. Weeks after that, the touching began, slowly but surely. It started with a lingering hand on your back, or hugs that never should have been initiated at all. Then, his hands drifted closer to your hips, and even worse, your ass. The hugs lasted far too long, and his lips treaded dangerously close to your skin.

You hated thinking about what you did to that poor woman, the tearful eyes as she berated the two of you as one. She was kind, she was beautiful, and she deserved better, but Jake Kiszka had always been too much to resist. Now, he was a habit you could not kick.

Over the years, the women became countless, and then men from your relationships, too. Everyone else saw that you could never keep a relationship, but it ran far deeper than that. You did exceptionally well at hiding your affections, and even better at hiding your betrayals. Jake and you never felt the desire to commit to one another, so instead you ruined other people while you committed to your relationship in every way other than officially. You did not intend to hurt so many people, and you never planned to betray others on behalf of each other, but it always seemed to happen no matter how hard you tried to stay away.

And then one day, the two of you had enough. You had lost too much humanity on your endless quest to be with each other, sacrificing too many people in the process. You decided to try, to be with each other in an honest and sincere way, just to make the world a little bit better for each other. You wanted to love each other openly, without anything or anyone standing in the way.

But, you didn’t want to be in a relationship.

Exclusivity was agreed upon, but labels were tossed in the garbage. The two of you convinced yourselves you were happy with the arrangement, and for a while, you truly were. At first, you kept it very quiet. You went on dates and stayed the night at each others houses, but only rarely. Most of the time, it was quick hookups whenever you had the opportunity to do so.

Then, things changed, and in his opinion, for the worst.

Both of you fell in love, completely and utterly, without question or care. Your apartment was forgotten after weeks of you staying in his bed. You shared meals together, sat outside on the porch and watched sunsets and sunrises, and said I love you in every action, but never aloud. Jake was indefinitely intertwined in your life in every way possible, and you were happy with it, until he said the dreaded ‘L’ word aloud.

It slipped out, carefully and quietly while you laid in his lap on the couch, watching reruns of your favourite shows. At first, you thought you misheard him, but the silence that hung in the air told you the truth about his words.

You loved him too, and you cursed yourself for not being able to say it back. You thought that it was too much too soon, despite living with love surrounding you constantly. It scared you, and you reacted with fear, even with your heart screaming at you to stop.

You didn’t say it back, because you neglected labels and thought it was not possible to be in love because of that. And, true, genuine love scared the absolute shit out of you.

It scared him too, but he seemed to harness more courage in that moment than you had in your entire life. Instead of applauding him for it, you effectively slapped him in the face.

For a few days, things carried on like normal, but you could notice the tension in the air. Every day, you could tell he waited to hear it, that he needed you to say it back, but it never came. After a while, he began to pull away, showing the old Jake that made you fall in lust with him in the first place. There were no more shared meals, and definitely no more sunset gazing. The television was off more often than it was on, and the blankets on the couch remained neatly folded on the back. The bed felt empty, even when both of you lied in it, because the distance between you two grew larger by the day.

But the sex?

It was better than it had ever been.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him too, but you were so paralyzed with fear that the word got stuck in your throat every time you tried to speak. Instead, you let him distance himself, knowing you’d already pushed him too far away. You continued to fall more in love with him, and he forced himself to fall out of love.

Then, you came home to him in bed, but he was not waiting for you. Instead of anticipating your arrival, so you could live as roommates rather than lovers, you found him wrapped up in another woman who gave him more than you could in the moment.

It was tearful, angry, and loud. Things were thrown, shattered on the floor, and your throat was raw from belittling the man you had only ever wanted to love.

You had finally gotten the karma you had rightfully deserved, and you finally understood the horrible pain you had inflicted on so many others.

The story finally ended the same way it started, but the two of you never recovered.

You moved out, but you were never able to rid yourself of Jake Kiszka. Intermittently, drunken and sad, you’d show up at each others doorstep and give in to your needs once more. He hated himself for hurting you, and you hated yourself for letting it get to that point. Blame was abundant, and regret plentiful, but one thing never changed; the fact that you two never fully fell out of love.

Too fearful of hurting each other the same way again, you fell back into old habits. You and Jake could never commit to each other, but could never stop loving one another enough to put an end to your toxic ways and commit to someone else. The second time around, it was much more difficult, and a lot messier. Your secret-keeping abilities had greatly decreased, and worst of all, everybody knew how you felt about each other.

When he left for his last tour, ready to release a new album and move forward in his career, you took it upon yourself to try and end the curse indefinitely. You blocked his number, removed him from your life in the most brutal ways possible, and you never spoke to him again. You vowed to start over, to be better, to love someone properly without the memory of Jake Kiszka tainting it before it could begin, and you did well.

For a while, at least. Until Josh sent you the damned message that landed you at his house that night.

With a boyfriend who you’d been with for long enough to take a bigger step, you crawled back to Jake like a dog who’d been lost without him. All it took was a single glance, and you knew Cole would meet the same fate of so many others, and you would meet the same fate that would inevitably ruin your life.

Your hands gripped the countertop of the bathroom tightly, holding yourself upright as the grief did all it could to break your bones. Your chest was heavy, your heart aching and your mind overrun with thoughts of a man you could never fully comprehend. He hurt you, and you hurt him, but never enough to put a stop to it for good. There was something deeper, something so incomprehensibly strong tying your souls together, even if you wanted to sever the bond. You could run to the ends of the earth, away from him and all of the mistrust and deceit the two of you had created, but you knew you would run so far that you would end up behind him, whispering in his ear as you pleaded to start anew.

You looked up at the mirror, trying to understand the woman staring back at you. She was a stranger, a shell of the woman who existed before meeting Jake. She was barren, cold, and tired. She wanted to love, but could not love anyone other than him, no matter how hard she tried. The bathroom door was cracked open ever so slightly, the glow of the hallway light illuminating your tired features, only worsening the sorrow you had for your former self.

As if on cue, the door creaked open by the push of a hand. The yellow glow of the lightbulbs were blocked by a body, casting a shadow over the already dim room. You did not need to look to know who it was; you could feel his presence without ever seeing his face, and it was just as beautiful as you remembered.

No matter how much you hated yourself for the relentless cruelty you inflicted and endured, it could never amount to the love you held for him in your heart.

“What are you doing up here, all by yourself?” The words were sickly sweet, settling in your spine and relieving you of all the tension that gathered over the course of the night. Without even looking at his face, you felt yourself stepping towards him, gravitating to the one thing that continually held you to the earth.

Jake closed the bathroom door behind him, locking the two of you inside together, looking at your sad expression with the utmost regret in his heart.

If only he could do it right, to take back all of the wrongs that got you to where you were, he would do it in a heartbeat, for you.

But you had always been better off as a dirty little secret, and he made a much better whore than he did a lover.

“Waiting for you to come and find me.” You quipped back, covering the sadness in your eyes with a soft smile. He stepped towards you, meeting you in the middle. He reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he gazed down over your face.

“You look like a fucking whore.” He rasped, his voice quiet but not hateful. His eyes raked over your body, taking in your low cut dress revealing more of you than he’d seen in a long time. His hand dropped from your face entirely, instead reaching forward and anchoring itself on your hip.

You leaned closer, your painted lips barely hovering over his own. The warmth of his breath on your skin was enough to make you forget about your sadness, and any remorse for your actions fled the minute he touched you.

“You don’t like it?” You asked, pushing your bottom lip into a pout. It grazed his own, sending a rush of emotion straight through the both of you. In an instant, you were one again, two bodies combined into a single entity after being forced apart.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head ever so slightly at your dramatics. “You know better than that.” His other hand rose, settling on the back of your neck. The pressure of his hand on the base of your skull caused your head to tilt upwards towards his just a little more, just enough for him to see your eyes. “I love it.”

“Did you miss me, baby?” You asked, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him alone. His cologne was suffocating, but it was so delicious that it helped you forget about the dying itself.

“Do I have to answer that?” He smirked, his body nearly completely pressed into your own. The space between you was non-existent, blatantly showcasing your lack of growth during your time apart.

Sustenance is stolen

“No, because I know you did.” Before the words even left your tongue, his lips were on yours in a heated reunion.

The sensation was euphoric, something you’d been searching for without ever realizing it. The whine that rattled your chest sent a shiver down his spine, only encouraging his bad behavior further. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, desperate for a drop of anything you could give him. You were the only woman in the world who could do such things to him, and despite pledging to stay away, the two of you would always end up in each other's arms. Whether it be morally right, or morally wrong, his arms were where you were always meant to be.

In an instant, you were no longer the woman who came to the party with a boyfriend who treated her well. That title was ripped from you, stolen from his grasp in exchange for a single moment alone with the man who forever plagued your mind. Just like every man before, he stole you from him like a thief in the night, never satisfied unless he could make you his own again. He knew the love you gave was addicting, and anyone who received it was dependent upon it. He did not commit such thievery for any reason unjust, but because he remembered the effect of your affections so well. Without you, he thought he would die, and because of that, he was willing to sacrifice any other man’s life so he could survive off your love alone.

The taste of alcohol lingered on his tongue, making the moment all the more enticing. His touch was burning, but only ever pleasantly. Right and wrong did not exist; only he did, and you submitted to the knowledge that you lived solely to be his. You were not cut out to be a wife for a man who had his life together, and you were not meant to mother a child or start a family with a man who earned his keep honestly and loved sincerely. You were a mortal being who’s soul had been blackened with lust for an entity with more power than you could comprehend. You were born to play Jake’s twisted game, and over time, you had grown happy to be a part of it.

You were a whore, but only he knew how to pry that out of you. His words were laced with poison, his tongue made of opiate, his touch of ecstasy, and every action completed with intention to kill. You would not commit the crimes for another, because there was nobody else worth the effort.

“Taste just as sweet as I remember, Angel.” He withdrew a long breath, parting from you for just long enough to utter the praise.

“So good you couldn’t stay away.” You whispered, wishing he would kiss you again. It had been so long since you experienced such pleasure that you thought you might die without it.

“I can never stay away from you, sweetness.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and in his defense, it was.

He backed you up against the countertop, locking you in place with his hips. As he leaned his top half towards you, you leaned backwards to allow him easier access. His lips landed on the side of your neck, his kiss gentle and nowhere near what you remembered of him.

For a second, you let yourself believe there was some kind of sentiment behind his action, like he still cared and wanted to appreciate having you again.

Then, you pushed the thought from your head. The worst thing you could do to yourself was imagine that Jake cared about you, even if it was true.

His mouth traveled downward, drifting over the column of your neck and brushing over your collarbone. His tongue trailed over the soft skin, reminding himself of all he missed out on while he was gone. He was a man gone mad, driven to insanity just from the taste of you on his tongue. As tempted as he was to leave a mark behind, to claim territory that had always rightfully been his, he knew he couldn’t. He did not want to make the fallout any worse than it needed to be.

Instead of showing his true feelings, he spoke it into existence as an insult, inadvertently begging for you to validate his feelings on the matter.

“What would your little boyfriend think of you now?” He muttered, his face buried in your chest as his mouth ghosted over every available inch of skin. The hum of his voice against your body made you weak in the knees, but his words plagued you with guilt. You were not the person to get off on infidelity; in fact, before you met Jake, you despised it. You were not sleeping with him for any twisted desires or hidden kinks, but because you loved him too desperately to walk away. You would take him any way you could have him, even if it was despicable.

“The same as your girlfriend would think about you.” You reminded him, assuring he knew you were not the only one at fault. Your tone was breathy, your heart thudding against your ribs as his hands scoured your thighs. His fingertips settling just below the hem of the skirt, begging to go further but waiting for your permission.

“As if I’d ask her to be my girlfriend.” He scoffed, revolted just at the thought of it. His hands trailed higher, in search of the seam of your underwear. He seemed to freeze in place, his fingers inspecting your hips underneath the cool fabric of your dress. Slowly, his head raised from your chest, looking up at your face with a wondrous twinkle in his eye. He could not find what he was looking for, because they did not exist. His hands felt only the softness of your skin, without barrier as he smirked up at your rosy cheeks. “For me, sweetheart?”

“It’s always for you, Jake.” You averted your eyes, an unfamiliar feeling burning in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure why you were so sheepish of the fact; both of you knew it all too well.

“You’re too good to me, angel.” He commended your efforts to please him only because they worked so well. He bunched the skirt of your dress in his hands, pushing it up past your hips to reveal your lack of underwear. The sight of you exposed in front of him was nearly too much for him to bear, but he persevered through the abundance of lust he felt for you in hopes of drawing the reunion out a little longer.

His fingers slipped between your legs, pushing them apart so he could continue his tyranny without interruption. You watched him closely, inspecting every move as if you needed it to survive. In some sick way, you did. You felt as though if you were deprived of his touch for too long, you would succumb to death and waste away to nothingness. His touch hovered above your heat, but he was unwilling to give you what you wanted so easily.

How foolish of you to believe that Jake would be kind, even after such a long absence.

“Please touch me, Jake. Waited so fucking long.” You whined, looking down at his hand between your thighs, taunting you with the power you knew he possessed.

“Oh no, sweetheart.” He shook his head, chucking at your neediness. “You don’t get to call the shots.” He said, his eyes flickering up to meet your own. “You left, remember? You blocked my number and went off and found someone else to take my place. You don’t get to complain about it after you finally decided to come back.”

Arrogance is potent

Oh, so he was mad. Good thing for him, you could play that game, too.

“Quit it with the fucking pity party, Jacob. We both know you’re not innocent, either.” From sweet to sour in a second, your entire demeanor changed in response to his ridiculous claims.

“You should see yourself.” He smirked, moving his hand a little closer to your aching cunt, but not close enough to touch you, yet. “Just as desperate as you were the last time I saw you, still so eager to be fucked while your boyfriend waits for you downstairs.” He spit the word as if it were a bitter taste on his tongue, easily telling you that the old game of cat and mouse had changed. He was going to fuck you, but he was angry that you had tried to move on despite him doing the exact same thing.

“Oh, you poor thing.” You seethed, feeling the rise of anger begin to take over your body, too.

Clearly, leaving silently had deprived you of the release you so desperately needed. There were too many loose ends, too much emotion hanging heavy on the both of you. You had waited nearly a year to get it all out, a year of suffering before you could even begin to release some of the pain you locked up so securely in your heart.

“Don’t tell me your feelings are hurt, Jacob.” You raised an eyebrow, condemning him for feeling any kind of sorrow over your new relationship.

“Over you? As if.” He sneered, the momentary sweetness from earlier fleeing him completely. Touching you again was euphoric, telling of all he still felt of you, and he didn’t mind letting you know he missed you. Unfortunately, it brought up a whole other whirlwind of emotions that were far less appealing.

“Still doing whatever you can to convince yourself you don’t care about me, hmm?” You snipped, taking the opportunity to slide your dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed before him. “We both know why you’re upset, Jake, and it’s not because you don’t care.”

His hands shot to your hips, lifting you on the counter and setting you down on the cool surface. Now that you were locked in, his own body ensuring you could not run, his hand was between your legs again and finally connected with your cunt.

“What is it then, if you think you fucking know everything?” His fingers sliding through your folds, gathering the wetness on his fingertips and circling around your clit made it hard to respond. The feeling was so grand, even if the action was small. It was something you’d been waiting for since he got on the plane that flew him away from you, severing the twisted ties that held you two together.

The most harrowing revelation came when you understood that it was even better than you remembered it to be.

“You’re j-jealous, Jacob. Just fucking say it.” You spat between waves of pleasure, looking down at his face with a distasteful look in your eye. He was silent for a moment, opting to watch his hand working at your cunt instead of responding to your accusations. Eventually, after an unusually long bout of silence from him, his eyes flickered back to your face.

Without him saying a word, you knew you hit the nail straight on the head.

“You think it was nice to see that you found someone to take my place after I was gone?” He whispered, his tone dangerously low. “That he’s been taking up space in your bed where I used to sleep?” He growled, the curl of his lip resembling him as more of a wild animal than a man who had been hurting on your behalf. He raised his other hand to your neck, the back of his fingers gently caressing the side of it as he let his words sink in. “Do you think I liked the way he was touching you, like he was protecting his territory? Like you haven’t always been mine?” The possessive claim caused you to clench around nothing, desperate for anything more than he was giving you.

His fingers closed around your neck, the grip loose but foreshadowing of all that was to come. His face was close to yours, so close that the tip of his nose brushed against your burning cheeks and his lips were ghosting over your own.

“Answer me.” He whispered, letting his middle finger slide down to your entrance, feeling his way through the arousal he was responsible for.

“No, sir.” You shook your head, almost finding yourself sympathetic for the pain he was masking with his cruel words.

“So why did you bring him here, sweetheart? To rub it in my face? To piss me off?” He asked, slipping his finger inside you and letting his thumb drift over your clit. He began a steady pace, clearly getting himself worked up as he made a point to berate you for your decisions. “Did you want me to get jealous so I would start a fight with him and show everyone how much I fucking care about you?”

“N-no, sir.” You whimpered, feeling the flutter of an orgasm begin to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The curl of his fingers was addicting, and with every pump of his hand he was hitting the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” He said, his fingers tightening around your neck a little further. He wasn’t ready to take it all the way, because he wanted to hear the truth before anything else. “You’re a little attention whore, and you wanted me to tell everyone out there that you’re mine. That’s all you ever fucking wanted, right? To be mine, and for everyone to know it?” The conversation was taking a dark turn, but you were too needy to complain about it. You thought if you kept talking, telling him what he wanted to hear, he would give you what you needed.

You were too stupid to realize you were only digging yourself a deeper hole, and the one you were already in was much too steep to climb out of.

“Yes, Jake. I did. That’s all I wanted.” You nodded, hoping he could feel your sincerity. You were not lying, because it was all you ever wanted. To be his and his alone was what you craved, with no one standing between you and no more secrets.

“So instead of telling me that, what did you do?” He snarled, moving his fingers a little faster. The change in pace caused your whole body to quiver. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and your mind was consumed with him entirely. He wanted you to confess, to tell him you understood the mistakes you made and atone for your sins. He needed it more than he ever needed anything else in his entire life.

“I-I left,” you choked out, feeling his fingers tighten on your pulse-point. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears, so powerful it was pulsing behind your eyes. “I was scared. I was too scared to say it, Jake.” You wheezed out, feeling your head begin to swirl from the pleasure and the lack of blood flow.

“Yeah, you fucking left. You were too scared to say it, so you left me to feel like an idiot for saying it first.” You were no longer speaking of the significant others you had left downstairs, nor your absence in the months prior. He was talking about that same dreaded instance that replayed in your mind every single day.

He was talking about it.

Aloud, he spoke the words, for the first time since the war began.

“M’so sorry, Jake.” You pleaded, feeling so strung out that the apology seemed misplaced. Recounting your mistakes did not seem fitting with his fingers inside of you and an orgasm threatening you. “I felt it too. I should have said it.”

“But you didn’t. You never fucking did, because you only ever cared about yourself.” Your eyes shot open, suddenly being pulled from the euphoria taking over your entire body. Your nostrils flared, your pupils blazing with a fire that only he knew how to ignite. He knew he struck a nerve, but it was exactly what he was intending to do.

“You fucked someone else in our bed.” You seethed, your words weak from his palm pressing against your trachea. Even in your rage, your hips moved down on his hand in search for more.

Just like always, sex was the most important thing to both of you.

“Instead of talking to me, you fucked someone else and tried to play the victim!” Your words were stronger now, fighting against his power with ease.

You were the only person in the world who ever had enough courage to challenge him.

“I guess we finally got what was coming to us, then.” He muttered, scowling at the thought of the pain you two caused each other, scowling at pain you’d caused so many others. “You still haven’t learned your lesson, because you’re back here begging for more, doing the same thing to him.”

“You don’t get to chastise me when you’re doing the same thing.” You spat, enraged at his self-righteous response.

“I never said I was any fucking better, sweetheart.” He reminded you, a small, sick smile toying at the corners of his lips. As angry as you were, and as much as your chest ached, you still knew you couldn’t walk away from him. You were destined to want Jake in the most despicable and destructive ways until the very end. The only comfort was that you knew he was destined for the same fate.

Without removing his hand from your throat, he moved forward and captured you in a kiss, sealing the evil you spewed within you forever. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, your need for him animalistic and unnatural even after his cruel treatment. The only reason it did not bother you was because you knew you deserved it.

As he kissed you, his hand continued working at your cunt, pushing you to the brink of an orgasm with great ease. You let out a moan into his mouth, giving him a taste of the pleasure he was granting you. He drew in a sharp breath, the sound settling deep somewhere in his soul and making home there for eternity.

He parted from you, but not because he wanted to. He would kiss you until his lips turned blue and his lungs collapsed, happy to die at your hands. He broke away because of need, and one that much much stronger than his urge to kiss you. His grip loosened around your neck and his hand dropped to your hip. He withdrew his fingers from you, causing you to let out a hiss of displeasure at the sudden loss of the orgasm he was so close to giving you.

Before you could get a complaint out, he dropped to his knees before you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He guided one leg over his shoulder, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh as an apology for his sudden change in pace. At the knowledge of his next move, you were all but upset with his decision.

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, your head falling backwards as his tongue connected with your clit. Your hand reached for his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue ran through your folds.

The sweetness of your arousal was something he’d missed so dearly, something he could never find from another. It was more addicting than any substance and it was the very reason he could get himself out of bed in the morning. Being with you in such an intimate manner was the only reason his heart continued to beat, and the only thing he continued living for. His tongue circled your clit, continuing his torment in a whole new way.

With just a single swirl of his tongue, you felt like screaming his name, just to tell the whole world how good he could make you feel. It was almost comical, how you searched far and wide for someone who could make you feel a shred of what he could, and nobody could even come close to him. Your whole body had been begging for him since you stepped foot into the familiar home, and now that you had him, it still wasn’t enough. You needed everything all at once, things he could not give to you and things you could never ask for. You needed Jake far beyond any other person, and far beyond what was possible from him.

You needed him to be more than a dirty secret, a betrayal of trust in a bathroom at a house party. You needed him to be yours, but you knew he would never be.

Your desperation was immeasurable, and your entire body was aching for the orgasm he previously denied you of. It was a terrible feeling to have, knowing that your life was completely in his hands. Whatever he decided to do with it, you would go along happily so long as it pleased him. It was a terrible thing to know you would never truly belong to yourself, even if Jake was long gone from the world.

He was living for your shallow breathing, surviving off of your choked moans. Pleasing you was his favorite thing to do, even if he hated you in the moment. There was something so gratifying about his name on your tongue, and something so beautiful about how easy it was to make you feel good. He tried his best to ignore the incessant thoughts in his head about another man touching you the same way, about someone else believing that you were theirs.

Both of you knew you were Jake’s, and he was undeniably yours. The facade you put on and the games you played with others were just that; the only thing either one of you knew to be real was the way you felt for each other. It was painful, harmful and frustrating for the two of you to constantly avoid the way your hearts felt for each other, but it was all you knew. It made more sense for the two of you to deny and lie about your feelings than it ever did to fess up.

He pulled away from you, catching his breath as he looked up at your face from between your legs. “Come on, angel. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” He hummed, moving his thumb over your clit so he did not lose the momentum.

“You want to hear it, baby?” You breathed, looking down at him through your lashes. “Did you miss it?”

“Dreamt of it every goddamn night.” He said as a matter of fact. You let out a whine at the sound of his words, pushed even closer to the edge at the knowledge he thought of you just as much as you thought of him.

You were in no position to deny him anything, because he was giving you the entire world. As he leaned forward, his mouth connecting with your core once again, you let a long slur of curses fall from your lips. The moan that followed could only be classified as pornographic, carrying through the door and echoing into the hallway for everyone to hear.

He was doing exactly as you wanted; he was making it so the entire house could hear how much you meant to him, even if it was not in the way you so badly wanted from him. Still, it was enough to keep you on his hook, and that was the very thing he wanted to ensure.

“God, feels so fucking good, Jake.” You gasped, feeling your abdomen tense with a particularly strong wave of pleasure. He hummed against you, speaking encouragement for the show you were putting on for him.

You knew if he continued on like such, it would not be long until you descended into an orgasm. He was waiting, just as desperate as you were to feel you let the pleasure take hold. He brought his fingers to your entrance, slipping his middle and index finger inside of you to add to the sensation. You inhaled a sharp breath, feeling the curl of his fingers hit the same spot he found so easily just moments before.

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling yourself clench around his fingers as the knot in your belly threatened to snap. At the familiar sound, he took it upon himself to suction his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, adding more pressure to the already otherworldly feeling. Your grip tightened in his hair and your entire body was rigid as it prepared to be pushed over the edge. “Oh god,” you cried, your throat raw from the primal sound that tore through you.

Had his mouth not been so intently focused on you, you knew how sweetly he would have talked you through it. No matter how vicious or volatile he spoke to you, he never missed out on the opportunity to coddle you as you came. It was his favorite thing in the entire world, an excuse to show you the softness his heart had for you when he usually felt like he needed to keep it hidden. He continued pumping his fingers and moving his tongue, guiding you through the high with expert precision. As he noticed you relax against him, he tapered off his movements before pulling away completely.

He rose to his feet, already tossing his belt on the floor before he was even upright. Your mind was still swirling with the lingering euphoria, your skin electrified and your heart pounding in your chest. You watched him, wordless as he unbuttoned his pants after he threw his shirt to the ground alongside his belt. He freed himself from his boxers, the sight of him nearly too much for you to handle. You missed him so dearly and needed him so badly.

He stepped forward, landing between your legs as he gazed down at you. His lust-blown pupils turned his eyes near black, and he was aching for relief just like you had been minutes before. “I want to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Say what?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He gave you a soft smile, void of any malice for a moment. He wanted to admire you beneath him, so desperate to have him. He wanted to enjoy the beauty of your heart being his despite being promised to someone else.

“You were just as jealous as I was, angel.” He said, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. You put all your trust in him, knowing that if he faltered, you might fall to the floor.

“So what?” You huffed, your cheeks turning red at his accusations. He smiled down at you, moving his hips forward ever so slightly. The tip of his cock rested against your entrance, already wet with your arousal.

“Do you really think I’d give her half of what I give you? That she means nearly as much to me as you do?” He questioned, his grip loosening slightly now that he had you in the position he wanted.

“No, baby.” You shook your head, wondering if tonight would be the night that things would change. “I know that.”

“You know she has nothing on you, beautiful.” His hand trailed up your side, the light touch tickling your skin as his fingers drifted over your stomach. “Nobody does.”

With that, his sweet sentiments had come to an end. He slammed his hips forward, the size of him coming as a surprise and filling you completely. A gasp left your lips as your tried to recover from the shock and adjust to him again, realizing that in the time spent away from him, nobody felt as fulfilling as he did.

To him, no one could compare, either.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” He muttered, clearly strung out from the pleasure too. In just a moment, he was back where he was all of those months ago, in love with you and desperate to hear you say it back. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

His praise was exhilarating, and his love was blissful. As he began a slow pace with his hips, the grief was almost overwhelming the pleasure. You wondered why it couldn’t feel this good with him all of the time, and you dreaded him walking away after the night came to an end.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for a moment, likely mourning the same fate that the two of you so often fell into. Loving you was all he wanted to do, but he was so afraid of falling again that he convinced himself he wasn’t already long past in love.

His tongue danced over yours, the taste of his sin too much to bear as your chest began to ache. You wanted to remain strong, to carry on with the one thing that the two of you were good at, but it felt so different than it did all the times that came before. The emotion you had neglected to acknowledge was finally pushing to the surface, angry about being ignored.

It wasn’t the right time, but you feared the right time may never come. You had to stop being afraid, to find the courage he once had and utilize it.

You could feel it too, even in his cruel words and his harsh insults. The love was there, lingering in every touch and screamed in every kiss. You could not allow yourself to remain in the same incessant cycle of pain, but you could not will yourself away from him. There was only one way to change your ways, but it was the hardest thing you had ever done. Loving someone so completely, no matter the circumstance, was terrifying. Saying it aloud only made it all the more real.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss and in turn, breaking you from your internal brooding. He looked down over your face, his hips still rocking against yours. The pleasure in the pit of your stomach had nothing on the yearning of your heart, and he could see it in your eyes. He had to look away, to hide his heart from you so you could not break it again. He feared the longer he stared, the closer he was to confessing the same thing all over again.

In a moment of desperation, he withdrew from you entirely, letting his hands settle back on your hips. Before you could complain, he pulled you from the countertop entirely, landing you on your feet in front of him. He had to change the pace, to harness that same carnal desire and rank it more important than how he felt for you emotionally.

Without a word, he spun you around, forcing your top half down towards the counter. The cold surface was a shock to your system, especially after growing comfortable with the warmth of his body against you. He pulled your hips back towards him, positioning himself at your entrance again.

“I think I’m being far too nice to you, sweetheart.” He muttered, reaching up and grabbing a fistful of his hair. “If I remember correctly, you only like to be fucked like a whore.”

This time, when the insult slipped past his lips, it did not feel good nor did it prompt any wave of arousal. It hurt, and it hurt achingly bad.

Still, knowing you were not strong enough to utter the proclamation of love, you went along with it despite the ache in your chest.

“Yes, sir.” You hummed. Despite the sadness of the change of position, you were still excited at the idea of fucking him. If you could not love him, you knew it was the next best thing.

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, knotting your hair around his fist as he pulled your head off the counter. He leaned down, his lips hovering just over your ear as he continued at the agonizingly slow pace.

“Just like this, sweetheart?” He asked, making sure that when his hips connected with yours he added a little extra force. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so good, baby.” You whined, the intimacy of the moment sending a shiver down your spine. His breath was hot on your neck, his voice barely above a whisper but loud and clear to you. As you answered, he let his teeth sink into your earlobe, the light pressure prompting a flutter in your stomach. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him in further and locking him there indefinitely.

Despite the pace being slow, the power behind his hips was what mattered, and with every re-entry, he added just a little more force than the last. As his cock brushed against cervix, your knees went weak and your stomach twisted into a knot. You had no idea how he could make you feel so good, but you knew you never wanted him to stop.

“He can’t fuck you like this, sweetheart.” He whispered, his lips still hovering above your ear. “He can’t make you feel this good.” He continued, his hand on your hip tightening with every word. He was mindful, careful not to leave any bruises despite his desire to. “Can he, angel?”

“F-fuck no, Jake.” You shook your head, feeling him press a kiss to the sweet spot just below your ear.

“Right, baby.” He hummed his approval, his words muffled due to his lips on your skin. “Nobody can make you feel as good as I do because you’re mine. Do you fucking understand me?”

“God, yes.” You nodded against his hold, desperate to agree with him on that fact. No matter what, you were undeniably his.

“Did you think of me when he was fucking you, angel?” He asked, his tone growing stronger by the second. He was pissing himself off the longer he thought about it, but he was willing to make that sacrifice in order to chastise you for your decisions. “Did you wonder when I would come home, when I’d come back to take care of you?

“I did, baby.” You whimpered, feeling the effects of his presence finally begin to take hold. You were strung out on pleasure, at your end already despite him being far from done with you. You were tired, but your body would not accept the fact. You thought if he stopped, you might die from the withdrawal from him. “I thought about it every fucking day.” You confessed. “I needed you, because nobody else knows how to do it right.”

“Exactly, sweetheart.” He hummed an agreement, happy to hear it from you. “You knew I’d never leave you behind. You knew I couldn’t fucking stay away.” Even if he wanted to, he never could. The confession was heavy, despite the fact already being known to you both. “God, what do you do to me?” He growled, the slam of his hips rocking your thighs forward into the countertop. Another groan tore through your chest, vibrating your entire body as he continued to fuck into you.

“Jake,” you warned, feeling your legs begin to wobble and your mind start to haze.

“I know, baby.” He crooned, placing another sloppy kiss to the exposed portion of your neck. “Being such a good girl for me. Just hold on a little longer.” At that, you let out another whine, loud and impatient, clearly unhappy about his plea to wait. In response, he roughly pulled your head to the side by your hair, craning it upwards a little further so he could press his lips to yours.

The kiss was enough to satiate your undying need for him, but the taste of his lips made the sensation in your stomach grow tenfold. The only difference was, now you could not warn him about the climax creeping up on you.

Luckily for you, he did not need to be warned about anything. He knew you better than anyone or anything, and he could feel how close you were just from your body alone.

“Oh, angel, you make it so fucking hard to say no to you.” He let out a long sigh, breaking the kiss as he let his hips rest against the curve of your ass. He had to slow down or he feared he might let go, too.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You gave him a weak smile, your eyes heavy as you looked back over your shoulder at him.

“With you? Always good, even if it should be bad.” He chuckled, placing a kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightened up again.

His hand remained in your hair as he took a deep breath, calming himself down before beginning again. The feeling of him moving inside you again after the short break was intense, amplified by a million. Although he believed stopping might allow the two of you more time, as soon as his hips reached the same speed as before, you were both just as close to the end. He couldn’t deny you the orgasm again, and he could not hold himself back. After so long without you, he needed it more than he needed food to survive.

“Can you cum for me, baby?” He asked, pushing your head down into the counter. Your cheek was squished against the surface, and his hips were moving with such strength that it made your head spin. There was no question that you could reach the climax, because you had been doing nothing but trying to hold back.

Instead of responding, your eyes closed and the burning in your stomach reached a whole new level. You had never gone so long without him, and now you had no tolerance for the pleasure that came with his company. A choked moan filled the air, letting him know that you were doing exactly what he asked of you.

His hand on your hip tightened as he pushed you further down on the counter. “That’s my girl.” He muttered, looking down at your face as you descended into pleasure. Your legs trembled and your lungs burned, but you were on top of the world. You felt better than you ever had, and likely better than you ever would. It had nothing to do with the sex, nor the stimulation of him inside you, but rather just the thought of being his.

You managed to sing his name through the mess of moans and curses, the sound heavenly to his ears. He waited so long to hear you say it like that again, and it sent him over the edge just the same as you. As you reached the high together, the world felt right again, like coming home after an inexplicably long and tiresome day. He spilled his release inside of you, feeling you relax against him as he slowed his thrusts. He leaned down, pulling your head to the side with much more caution than last time, and kissed you with all the love he could muster in his whole body.

You stayed like that for an abnormal amount of time, neither of you keen on the idea of parting from one another. Eventually, he broke the kiss, looking down over your face with adoration in his eyes. He did his best to snap himself out of it, knowing he shouldn’t be feeling such things about you, but unable to stop. He straightened up again, making sure to admire the entire scene of you below him, too fucked out to form a single thought. Then, his eyes traveled to the mirror, catching a glimpse of your position from a whole new perspective. He swallowed hard, his jaw tensed as he let out a shaky breath.

“How am I supposed to let him take you home tonight after seeing you like this, sweetness?” He asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror. When he realized your head was pushed too close to the countertop for you to see too, he used his grip on your hair to pull you upwards.

Staring back at you was a mess of the woman you walked into the bathroom as. Your cheeks were streaked with mascara, your skin red and blotchy and your hair a mess. Beside your reflection, you could see him watching you, studying you. His eyes were fixated on your face, taking in every detail you were noticing. To him, you were not a mess; you were the most beautiful thing to ever grace the earth. The mess just made it all the better, especially knowing he was the one who caused it.

‘I don’t want to go home with him, Jake. I want to stay here with you.’ You thought it, but did not dare say it aloud. The flash of sadness in your eye was apparent to him, for he had the same one in his.

What I see is unreal

I've written my own part

Eat of the apple, so young

I'm crawling back to start

If you did not speak now, you never would. Could you remain the same forever, or did you need to change to survive? You did not know what to do, or how to feel. If you said it, would it even mean anything, or would it be a waste of breath? He did not want to hear the words a year later; he needed it way back when the two of you were curled up together on the couch, when he used every last ounce of courage to say it first. He didn’t need to hear it now. He didn’t need you fucking up his life again. He didn’t need you.

But if he did not need you, why did he abandon his date in search of you, in search of what you used to be?

There was no more anger between you. Your eyes locked together in the mirror, housing a silent battle of uncertainty as you watched each other's every move. If you spoke the truth, the world would change indefinitely, but you did not know if it would be for better or for worse.

Oh, what did it fucking matter anymore?

You had to say it, to know that you exhausted every option to keep the man your heart sang hymns about. You could deal with the consequences later, because right now, you both needed to hear it.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, knowing there was some kind of war being waged in your head. He was afraid, not of what you wanted to tell him, but because he thought you wanted to end the constant debacle between you.

You could deal with the aftermath later, but you were done being sad. He waited so long, just the same as you, and you had to say it.

I repent tomorrow

Hey ah na na tomorrow

I suspend my sorrow

“I don’t want to go home with him, Jake.” Your voice was strong despite your worry the words would not make it past your lips.

“Then don’t.” He could not help the spark of hope that ignited in his chest. He rested inside of you, terrified to move as he awaited what you would say next.

“You mean it?” Say it, or forever hold your peace, coward.

“You know there’s always a place for you in my bed.” He was unsure if he was taking your confession in the way you meant it, but by god he hoped that was what you meant. Your eyes caught his again, holding him captive with your stare. There was not enough courage in the world for you to say it, but you could not hide it any longer.

“I love you too, Jake.” You said, your tone strong and your intent true. Nearly a year later, you finally said it.

The world was still. The commotion outside of the doorway stopped, and your relentless thoughts wasted away to nothing. For a moment, you even believed your heart ceased to beat.

“I love you, Jake. I should have said it a long time ago, but I’m saying it now, and it has to count for something.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said, statue-like as he stood behind you. For a moment, you thought you might die from the pure grief that encased your heart. You waited too long. It was too late. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I should have said that a long time ago.”

Neither of you moved, and neither of you knew what to do next.

You got what you thought he could never give, and he heard what he feared you might never say.

Was it over? Was that it? Did you end the curse that had plagued you since the very beginning? Had you repented enough for the rottenness of your actions?

Could you really have him with no secrets and no more lies? Could you love him without restraint, without any pain?

“Let me love you, Y/N. Let me do it right this time.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes never leaving his face. “Please, Jake. The world hasn’t felt right since that night, until now. I want to try again, and I don’t want to be a terrible person anymore.”

Carefully, he withdrew from you, trying to limit the mess as he helped you up off the counter. He turned you to face him, bringing his hand to your cheek to swipe away a tear that escaped your eye.

“I have been waiting a lifetime to hear you say that, sweetheart. I would be a fucking idiot if I gave it up twice.” You lifted your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m sorry it took so long. I’m sorry I was so stupid.” You said, reaching out and wrapping your arms around him.

The hug was simple, but to the two of you, it was everything.

“I was stupid, Y/N.” he said, burying his head in your hair. He took a deep breath, finally feeling the tension in his body fade away into nothing. The smell of your shampoo, and more specifically, the way his pillows used to smell when he was sleeping next to you, was his favorite thing in the whole world, and he’d been deprived of it for far too long. “I don’t want to be stupid anymore. I just want you.”

“I was always yours, Jake.” You whispered, closing your eyes as you rested your cheek on his bare chest. “From the minute I met you, until my very last day on earth.” He did not need to reply for you to know he was yours, too.

Finally, after writing your own wretched tale, you had grown enough to rewrite it and atone for all of the mistakes you made before.

Finally, you could love him without having to worry about anything else, without pain, and without suffering.

Finally, he was yours, and only yours, like it always should have been from the very beginning.

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sketchiefoxie · 4 months ago

Text

In a Jam

Had a surprisingly traumatic dream where Jam (Purple Leo) from @intotheelliwoods 2AL Au died, and I cried about it. Now I'm feeling inspired, so buckle up!!

Story based off of this post by @intotheelliwoods

Also, song I listened to while writing this :)

(Here's the Ao3 version)

TW: Blood, some slight gore, Character Death

Jam's shoulder slammed up against the wall, breath catching in his throat, body wracked with painful shivers. He needed to keep going. He needed to find Mikey. He couldn't stop now!!

Despite all of Eon's efforts to keep this timeline safe, they just didn't have enough time. Everything was falling apart, and Eon...

Jam choked on a sob, feeling as it tore at his throat. Eon... His older self, was gone. He was gone now, he was gone! He could still hear his desperate scream.

"JAM!!! Jam, whatever you do, don't let them take you!! Don't let them get you!! Jam, go find Mikey!!" There had been a pause, and Eon had attempted to call out, voice wavering "Jam, I lo--" Then a sickening crunch.

Jam kept running, feet sliding this way and that on the ground, slick from the blood of all the bodies. "M-Mi-Mikeyyyyy!!" He choked out, practically wailing his name. He had no clue if he was even alive anymore.

Jam whined as his knees suddenly decided they had enough, and he collapsed, body crumpling to the hard floor of the base, prosthetic arm clattering beside him, broken into pieces hanging only together by the many wires within. He coughed weakly, feeling when a clot of something dislodged itself from the back of his throat. Without a doubt, he knew it was blood.

His whole body ached. He knew he was hurt, but it was starting to sink in how badly he was hurt. He felt so hot that his body told him it was cold. Like having chills during the flu.

"L...Lee...."

Jam's eyes snapped open, and he gasped, immediately regretting it as his lungs reminded him that technically, one of them was punctured.

Jam coughed, loud and painful, hacking as blood attempted to choke him, his body turning against him traitorously.

He felt a gentle touch upon his face, and he jerked, eyes flying open again, blurry from the tears streaming down his face, accumulated through the act of violently coughing and the grief breaking his heart.

"M-Mike..." He choked out, a small whine escaping his throat. "M-Mikey, th-they got him."

Mikey was on the ground just like him, having dragged himself closer by the chain of his nunchaku wrapped around a pile of rubble. "I-I know..." He whispered; voice broken by pain. "I know..."

Jam looked his brother up and down, taking in his matted grey hair, sticky from sweat and blood. The way he lay painfully upon the ground, lower half contorted. It looked like both his legs had been broken.

Anything Jam were to say, got stuck in his throat, clogged up tightly. Mikey was dying, wasn't he? The golden cracks illuminating his body said as much. In fact, most likely the only reason for Mikey still being alive, was his nimpo. It was keeping him alive, while slowly killing him.

A blessing and a curse.

"D-Don't worry." Mikey hummed, voice crackling, and Jam recognized that tone. "N-No..." He whispered, eyes welling with tears as Mikey confessed. "It doesn't even hurt that much. I-I think I'm in shock though..."

Jam choked out, blood accidentally splattering against Mikey's cheek and shoulder. "W-We lost. We lost, Mikey!! W-we lost... We lost... E-Eon's gone... He's gone... We didn't have enough time, he's gone..."

They sat in almost silence, the sounds of the outside battle raging loudly. Violent sounds of death, and fear. They knew how to kill the entity; they just didn't have enough time to do it.

Mikey breathed out, slow and labored as he began. "W-We're closer in this timeline th-than during E-Eon's right? He never got th-this far, before h-he came here."

Jam paused and nodded slowly before Eon's final words clicked in his head. "Send me back." he demanded, a sudden surge of hope coursing through his chest. "I-I might still have a chance to fix this."

Mikey stared at him, with what should have been an expression of shock, but was mostly just blank sadness and pain, and he nodded slowly. He pushed himself up onto his forearms, whimpering as pain evidently wracked through his form. "E-Eon said I might have to--"

Mikey wasn't even able to finish his sentence before a rumbling began. With a sharp inhale, Jam glanced up. That was all the warning they got before the building began to collapse.

Mikey's entire body blazed brightly like a fire, and he screamed, mystic energy flaring to life as the building came down upon them.

The last things Jam could remember happening was immeasurable pain as something huge fell upon his shell, cracking it open, and a brilliant golden light.

Then he was falling, falling, falling down.

The gold surrounding him began to flicker, and its energy waned. Mikey... Jam reached out with his own nimpo, desperate to help in any sort of way, support Mikey the best he could. His nimpo connected briefly, grazing against the beautiful, brilliant energy of his baby brother... Then it fizzled out.

Jam almost lost control of the portal at that, heart breaking as blue overcame gold. The end of the portal was near, giving Jam virtually no time to process this new feeling of grief.

He was dumped out of his portal, most ungraciously, his body hitting the floor with a almost wet thump. That didn't sound good.

Jam moaned, pained by both his physical wounds and the emotional wounds on his heart. Everything was blurry, so he wasn't really sure where he was at.

With a hiss, he rolled onto his side to check the damage to his body. He hadn't really gotten a good look at what had happened, but he had a feeling that he had multiple broken ribs, which might be stabbing into one of his lungs. He knew that his shell was cracked open just from how when he moved, he felt the horrible sensation of his shell grating upon itself. Like two stones rubbing together.

He felt hands upon his good arm, and a voice filled with extreme worry. He knew that voice, didn't he? Jam groaned as he was carefully rolled onto the ground, and his eyes began to focus.

In front of him was a young turtle. Himself. He looked to be either in his late teens, or early twenties. His skin was a slightly lighter shade of green than Jam's own, and instead of purple face crescents, his were a deep maroon red. A very rich color.

Jam paused, eyes flickering back and forth as he took in the features of his younger self. He was so young, and precious... He looked about old enough to be in the Krang apocalypse.

The younger Leo was stammering, and frantically trying to staunch the bleeding all while grabbing at his communicator to presumably call for help.

"H-Hey..." Jam croaked out, wincing in pain, but managing a crooked smile.

The Leo shushed him, quivering with adrenaline and fear. "Shhh-shh. D-Don't speak, we'll get you all fixed up, ok?"

Jam smiled up at him, fondness for the young Leo drowning out the pain. Or maybe that was his body beginning to lose feeling. "Aw, d-don't worry about me." He managed to say without choking on his own words. "Seriously, it's gonna be fine."

With a short burst of adrenaline, Jam remembered what he was supposed to be doing, and he struggled to sit up, if not slightly to speak easier. The younger Leo quickly scooted forwards, helping Jam lay upon his lap. "Wait, wait, what's going on, why are you here, how--" The young Leo began, and Jam cut him off. "No time for th-that. I-I need to warn you about something, I-I-- O-oh gosh, I-I'm sorry-- Its a-amazing that I-I made it here at all--It really looks like I-I showed up t-to late, and..."

Tears welled in his eyes, and he found it impossible to continue. He had failed, hadn't he. He didn't know how to beat the entity; he hadn't made it here in time. He didn't have anything to say, he didn't--

Jam glanced back up at the fearful, tearful expression of the younger Leo. He was just so small. Jam remembered being that small... This little Leo reminded him of the story of the little teacup whale.

So small, so precious that it lived in a teacup, till one day, it grew out of it and became a grand beauty that the people all adored.

This little teacup whale of a Leo.

Before he could stop himself, he let out a small smile, and a little chuckle. "Hey..." he began, voice slurring in an effort to be heard. "Teacup... its... it’s good to see you..."

'Wh-What?" The younger Leo, Teacup choked out, voice high-pitched with emotion. "Wait, no no no no no, wait, you can't do this to me, WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!"

Jam felt as he was pulled into a tight embrace, and he felt the full body rocking sobs of the younger Leo, as he cried into his shoulder.

Jam closed his eyes, and softly hummed 'You are my sunshine' to Teacup, hoping to ease his pain. He couldn't help him anymore; he had screwed up. But at least he got to see a Leo, one last time...

***

Raph came out of a meeting room, mood soured by the fact that Leo hadn't come when he said he would. Sure, Leo had been frustrated earlier and stormed off to 'think' but he wasn't really one to skip the war meetings.

Especially as he was the leader.

With Donnie and Mikey behind him, Raph paused and asked. "Any of you seen Leo?"

Raph watched as his brothers halted, and their expressions went blank. That was a no then. Mikey piped up, chirping. "He said he needed time to think." and Donnie cut in. "Yes, Angelo, but that was an hour ago, before the meeting."

Raph sighed, almost a little disappointed in his younger brother. He really thought he was past this whole 'immature' thing. "Donnie?" he asked, not even needing to voice his question.

"Already on it." Donnie replied, tapping the screen upon the cuff on his arm. A hologram of Leo's contact picture popped up, as a little loading circle formed beneath it. After a few moments of silence, the purple hologram changed, displaying voicemail, insinuating that Leo did not pick up his phone.

Donnie scoffed and tried again. The same result. The brothers paused, a sudden silence thickening up the air in the hall. It felt as if the people walking around them suddenly didn't exist, making the brothers feel as if they were alone right in the middle.

Donnie immediately pulled up his tracker screen, and the moment Leo's location was online, they took off, racing through the halls, and around the folks who were there for the cause.

Raph immediately slammed open the door the moment they made it to the somewhat unused room and was shocked by what he saw.

Leo was by the wall, hugging someone, covered in blood, rocking back and forth as weak sobs wracked his body. He was murmuring something, begging quietly, soft enough that none of them understood what he was saying.

"Sweet Galileo!" Donnie exclaimed, and Mikey cried out, rushing forwards. "Leo!! Leo what happened?"

Leo only cried harder; voice wrecked from the sheer amount of crying he was doing.

Raph followed behind Mikey, taking in the scene, completely stunned. Behind him, Donnie was paging the med bay team and giving them their coordinates.

"Leo, what's going on, who's this?" Mikey tried again, but Leo only shook his head, unable to get anything out from around his sobs.

Raph reached out to try and pry Leo away from the body that bore an uncanny resemblance to his younger brother, but Leo only screamed an uncoherent "NO!!!" and clung tighter to the broken body.

Mikey had started crying, and Raph could feel his own emotions choking him up. "Leo... What happened?"

***

The rest of the day was long and torturous.

They were able to take the body to the med bay to see if anything could be done. But whoever it was, was gone.

Leo refused to leave their side, choking and crying silently the entire time, eyes never leaving the face of the turtle.

This persisted on even late into the night, when they found a place to bury the stranger.

Leo refused to leave the grave, kneeling upon the soft dirt and hugging himself tightly, humming 'you are my sunshine'.

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rise of the tmnt #2al #2al au #2al jam #2al sprout #2al young peepaw Leo #2al fanfic #rottmnt fanfic #hope you enjoy Ell!#I had a lot of fun writing this!!#Bout an hour and a half to jot down these 2000 words #tw blood #tw death #tw grief #yes I named it “in a jam”

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gragam · 3 months ago

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i listened to more current albums this year than i ever have before so i wanna rank them

8. brat remix album - charli xcx

not really much to say about this. its not like i was excited for it but its impressive that not one of them is even really listenable. charli has a knack for picking the worst features imaginable every single time

favorite tracks: :/

7. sophie - sophie

it feels unfair ranking this against all the other ones bcus of the circumstances surrounding its release and im glad the tracks are out in the world but unfortunately none of them really stood out to me. sorry sophie you will always be the queen

favorite tracks: reason why, live in my truth

6. brat - charli xcx

im maybe overly critical of brat because of its reputation but it has a couple songs i really like and a couple i really dont and mostly a bunch that i dont really care about because this album is way too long. overall i guess i like it but it feels half baked in a way that 2 bonus versions couldnt fix. best thing about this album is that it introduced me to her better albums

favorite tracks: sympathy is a knife, everything is romantic, 365, spring breakers

5. imaginal disk - magdalena bay

this album kind of oversells itself with a really incredible first track before settling into something much less interesting but still very listenable. its stretched a little too thin over too many tracks but theres not really any that id skip. just a good album with a couple of great songs

favorite tracks: she looked like me, fear sex, cry for me, the ballad of matt and mica

4. the book of phytoelectron - susumu hirasawa

his instrumentation is as wonderful as ever and i do really like the album but i selfishly wish it was a regular album instead of a guitar album because i think he has like the best singing voice ever. but there were some tracks that reminded me of his old prog rock band that i really like so that was a nice little treat for me

favorite tracks: the history of omnificence in memory grass, area of red flowers on the snowy mountain range, the valley where the blue flowers on expedition take root in the light (damn), pollination charge: vines that go back to the future, remember it will come

3. i lay down my life for you - jpegmafia

seriously awesome production throughout even if the last couple tracks are sorta underwhelming. i know some people dont like this as much as his other albums and im not Super familiar with his other ones but i think this ones my favorite that ive heard. i have kind of a love/hate relationship with sampling but hes uses them in a way i love

favorite tracks: sin miedo, be right there, its dark and hell is hot

2. mahogakko - hakushi hasegawa

honestly im probably putting this too high theres a lot of dead space between the really good tracks but those tracks are like mind expanding and definitely contributed to me expanding my musical horizons this year. one of the most maximalist albums ive ever heard but still very listenable. the contrast between the off the walls instrumentation and their high soft singing voice really works for me

favorite tracks: departed, gone, mouth flash, kyofunohoshi

chromakopia - tyler the creator

kind of a surprise favorite for me ive never listened to a tyler album before and its definitely less ambitious than some of the others on here but i really enjoyed it. a couple of kind of cringey tracks but overall extremely fun and energetic while also being very heartfelt and touching. i will definitely be exploring more of his discography. i also like that sticky sounds exactly like a lisa the painful song

favorite tracks: st chroma, rah tah tah, i killed you, tomorrow, like him

#hows that for a spotify wrapped you filthy animals

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starr-angelofnarnia · 2 months ago

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The 'tism Made Me Do It

A list of things I've come to realize are not normal behaviors but rather a sign of Autism. My mother suspected I was autistic, "bUt iTs OnLy SeEn In BoYs" was the perspective when I was a child. So here are things I do/ have done that are most likely because of my Autism. (I'll probably update the list as I think of more things)

Flapping my hands (or entire arms) when I'm excited

Playing with my hair incessantly

Holding things that smell comforting up to my nose when distressed (often stuffed animals or other soft items)

Avoiding fireworks (I have a core memory of my mom leaning me back in her lap with her hands covering my ears so I would actually watch a fireworks show. Typically, I would curl up into the fetal position to cover my ears, so I usually missed everything)

Pacing

Swaying in place

Having a meltdown if plans change

Having a meltdown when feeling trapped or stuck

Throwing up or simply refusing to eat mushy foods

Avoiding phone calls like the plague

Having to do things "in order"

Opening cabinet doors to put things away and then just leaving them open until they become inconvenient

(Probably) Dropping into the mental headspace of a child

Always having to put clean things away "in the back/bottom" (ex, clean dishes at the bottom of the stack, clean clothes in the back of the closet)

Spending way too much time on one thing (hyperfixation)

Repeating phrases out loud or in my head over and over again, even if they're annoying me (I've been told this is a form of echolalia)

Sitting on the floor, especially in cozy corners or under my desk

Finding comfort in low lighting/ doing things in the dark/ avoiding fluorescents (I love my Christmas tree in the dark at night)

Occasionally unable to brush my teeth with my electric toothbrush because it tickles so much it hurts

Needing to redo "the thing" before starting something else (for example, I got a new Lesson plan template and I cannot write new ones until I've converted all the old ones into the new template)

The song Venom by Eminem makes me want to curl up in the fetal position

Listening to a song on repeat

Puzzles

(Probably) merge games

Needing two blankets to sleep: a top blanket for my arms and shoulders and a bottom blanket for everything else

Lining things up

Putting everything in patterns

My clothes can't be too tight or too loose

Spicy foods are banned

Give me all the sugary things (provided it's not mushy or spicy)

[As a child] trying to wash the "stiff" out of my hair (hair spray) and the "sticky" off my face (makeup) during dance recitals

Using dance (and dance like activities) to manage my symptoms

Struggling to make and keep friends unless they are also neurodivergent

Coming off as "childish"

Being shy and socially awkward unless you ask about the "right" niche topic that I'll talk for ages about

Despising and avoiding messy or dirty as a child but somehow embracing it with full force as an adult.

Avoiding clothes that are itchy (and carrying a roll of medical tape in my purse so I can cover up anything that is itchy in a pinch)

Being very physically clingy and cuddly (hate that this was one of the reasons people never considered me to be autistic. This can be a sign of autism just as much as avoiding physical contact can be).

(probably) having a detailed and elaborate logic that explained the existence of Santa Claus until I was 18 years old (don't judge me)

Let me barefoot

Picking at hang nails or chapped lips

An obsession with turn taking, even for inanimate objects (it's the peppermint hot cocoa chapstick's turn to be used, pumpkin spice is banned to the drawer until next time)

I'll add more as I think of them

#actually autistic #autism #actually adhd #audhd #autistic adults #autistic adult #autistic things #stimming #quirks

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throwmeabonepleaseandthankyou · 8 months ago

Note

Ooh, I thought of something!

Can I get some Grillby headcanons? I'm not picky on the AU but Fell!Grillby is a looker for sure!

I feel like he's usually depicted as flirty for whatever reason? That's pretty much all I know about him though...

I don't know anything about other versions of him either but you don't have to include them if you don't feel like it!

I love that I had a whole response typed out but tumblr deleted my draft 🥰 ANYWAYS, I only have three flame boys available to drool over right now, but all three are just as a loving as the other! Also, I need names for my boys. Please, I'm open to all suggestions!

Grillby :

Even as he is the quietest of the three, he loves talking to you. Well, listening at least.

He could listen to you talk for hours. He has to listen to a certain skeleton crack jokes almost everyday of his life, at least you he can willingly listen to.

He is always grateful to see you come in just to walk behind the bar and start helping him.

His flames burn a bit brighter each time he sees you interact with the customers. Whether it's entertaining the duck lady's "translations" for him or you playing... whatever it is, with the guard dogs.

None of the boys are actually hot to the touch. They feel more like a blanket fresh out of the dryer or a stone left out in the sun.

They have to choose to be harmful, or they have to be angry enough for them to lose control.

Thankfully, Grillby doesn't get upset easily, and if he is feeling off, he goes and lays in the snow to cool himself off.

Until he gets hit with a snowball by you.

He sends the Snowdin kids on you. They're pros and you're screwed. He promised them free candy too. Be ready to treat this snowball fight like an actual war.

He actually likes to dance, liking to spin you around the restaurant after closing to the beat of whatever song the jukebox chose.

He doesn't shower, but he doesn't smell.

Well, he doesn't smell if you enjoy the scent of ash and charcoal.

Walking candle.

Fell :

Gods, what a flirt.

But not creepy flirty.

Cheesy flirty, make you squirm in your seat and force yourself not to laugh cheesy.

This Grillby is hot-headed, literally and figuratively.

It's not uncommon for him to burn whatever he's holding when Red(Sans) pisses him off with his constant taunting.

He will throw out anyone he catches flirting with you, or making suggestive looks at you. No creeps on his watch.

Each flame boy has a distinctive smell. His is those expensive cigars and lemon pepper.

While some people would like to think he would hurt his s/o, he would the most gentle with you.

You are his most prized wine glass, and he will keep you safe.

Doesn't matter if you're human or monster, he will kill his own kind to keep them away from you.

He's not too fond of kids.

Or so he says. You'll catch him giving out chocolate to the younger children and sour candies to the older ones.

He'll always deny it when you mention it.

While the OG's main drink is cider, his is hot chocolate with a twist.

He adds mint to it, giving it the spark that the monsters need to get on with their day.

He acts all tough n shit, but the second y'all are back at home and getting ready for bed, he just wants to sleep on your lap.

Big flame cat.

Outer :

If you were to put your hand in his flames, it would feel like you just stuck your hand in sugar.

I mean it, pulling your hand out, you'll have to go wash your hand from how sticky it feels.

It's not actually sticky though, and attempting to eat his flame just feels like you stuck a warhead sour candy in your mouth.

Imagine.

He smells like a vanilla candle that has been burned recently.

He gives out a special recipe drink that only he knows how to make. Not even you know how to.

No one has been able to replicate it either, and every time they have tried, their version was disgusting.

His flame, unlike the other two, is dense enough to be pulled back and styled like actual hair.

You fun with all of those pretty colors.

He is more physically affectionate than the others too, always having a hand on you somehow, keeping you close.

He is huge on praise, loving on you and treating you like a queen/king/royal. You are spoiled with this one, and he never says no to you.

He has the money to spare, so don't worry about the price.

#undertale #undertale asks #undertale headcanons #undertale imagines #undertale au #underfell #outertale #grillby #outer grillbys drink doesnt have any drugs in it or anything #maybe #youll never know

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saturdaymournings · 5 months ago

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DS tour :)

Hiiiiiiii y’all :) I’m finally making this after putting it off for ages! It’s not going to be completely coherent and I don’t care because I’m making it purely for the pleasure of myself and bestie jay xiaomiao on spacehey <2

I have a New Nintendo 2DS XL in white and orange. I’ve had it since September of 2017, making it almost seven years old! It’s held up really well in my opinion, especially seeing as it has been thoroughly abused and enjoyed by me since the age of 11. A particular incident springs to mind that occurred on a school trip— I dropped the damn ds on the floor and it slid around the aisle of the coach I was on until we stopped Dx

This is the top and bottom half of my ds. As you can see she has been stickered to fuck, I have no shame and if you’re going to be like bitches on Reddit and start bitching about it getting all sticky then I’ll have to inform you that 1) you are like bitches on Reddit. Embarrassing for u and 2) I have used alcohol wipes to get gunk off of this fucker a concerning amount of times before and I’ll fucking do it again. Isn’t she beautiful tho don’t we think so

This is my splash screen I just think it’s a vibe don’t u. It is a good reminder to see this pop up every time I open my ds

This is my theme it’s Miku admittedly I’m not big into the miku I like to listen to like three of the songs, simp over kaito and play the 3ds game that’s about it but the theme is cute and it plays one of the three songs I really like

Some examples of my games!!! I originally took pictures of every single game but it was too many files for tumble to handle lol. The games I’m currently like super duper playing are Ace Attorney Investigations 2 (fan translation), miitopia and animal crossing new leaf! Casually tho I will occasionally pick up tomodachi life, project mirai dx and ofc I do my daily wordle on the ds lol.

My Bluetooth headphones broke a while back so I was exclusively listening to music on my disc Walkman, but I managed to get an mp3 player on my ds and now I can use this for all my music! It’s very handy and it works with the clam shell hingey thing shut :) plus because I have the rainbow light mod I can look at the rainbow light while my music is playing it’s kinda silly but it makes me happy idk if the reason is goofy lol. Also admire my sick ass taste in music!!!! You WISH you had as good taste in ska as me

I also have an mp4 player chock full of Dan and Phil and Shelbizleee videos for on the go which is fun especially seeing as I can no longer get YouTube working on my ds because they fucked up the app and the other app and the website :( thirdtube works for a lot of people but not me unforch

I also do most of my drawing on my ds nowadays purely for 1) the gimmick and 2) the chunky glitter pens that I hacked into swapdoodle. It’s nice to be able to do more drawing for fun again because I totally fell off last year and it’s good to enjoy things

BONUS: archive of our own is more than functional on the 3ds browser. It is a thoroughly enjoyable experience to use it on my ds! Purely for research purposes I have also found Pornhub is difficult to navigate but ultimately useable. And for once I haven’t actually been utilising this feature I literally just get curious. Rare lack of perversion from silly girl we ball <2

anyways tysm for reading this! Jay tysm especially for allowing this to happen in the first place, you rock 🎸 peace

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nobodysdaydreams · 1 year ago

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TMBS Fairytale AU Show Version

Based on this lovely post by @cronch-goes-the-weasel and this awesome post by @sophieswundergarten and also this post that was one of the first posts I've ever made because for some reason I really liked the idea of SQ as a Disney Prince and thought the world should know about it, so much so, that I decided to get a tumblr just so I could tell people.

Warning: The content of this AU is long and insane. Reader discretion is advised.

Premise: As I have developed this story, some characters have no magic powers, some have magic powers that they have to study to learn how to use, and others have naturally occurring magic powers, to various degrees. Just roll with it, my brain is excited, but exhausted. Here we go.

Nicholas and Nathaniel are two poor orphan boys that grow up in a local orphanage, with no knowledge of where they came from. The boys both love studying magic and try to get their hands on any spell books they can find. Nicholas is adopted by a fairly well off family while Nathaniel is left behind.

Flash forward to years later, and Nathaniel has become an evil wizard who has taken over the world and declared himself king. He has a special school and is currently recruiting the most powerful magical or otherwise talented children to go through lifelong training to serve on his court and be his knights. His brother Nicholas, a kind-hearted and humble, but scattered brain wizard is the only one who can stop him.

The players in the story:

The Bad Guys:

Nathaniel/Curtain: Evil Wizard King. It's exactly what it sounds like.

Garrison: Chief member of Curtain's court (his right hand woman), and expert in all types of magic. She often advises Curtain against using dangerous magic, but he rarely listens. If we want to bring mythical creatures into this, I could see her being part fairy (more specifically an evil or outcast fairy).

Jeffers: Head of Curtain's current army (the greys). He can't use magic, but likes to think that he might be able to one day and attempts to do so often (it never works).

Jackson and Jillson: Curtain's jesters. They entertain him by doing little songs, dances, and puppet shows for the court, which Nathaniel Benedict, professional theater kid, appreciates. If we want to bring mythical creatures into this, they can be elves/part elf or some sort of quirky woodland creatures).

SQ: Prince and heir to the evil throne. His father teaches him magic (but not too much) and rarely lets SQ go outside or leave and explore certain parts of the castle. He spends most of his time painting and talking to wild animals in the gardens.

Martina: one of the best students Curtain has recruited and on track to become a knight and the head of his army.

The Good Guys:

Nicholas: a self-taught wizard/magic user who refuses to use dark or evil magic

Number Two: Wanted to be a knight ever since she was a little girl. She trained for years, and eventually became a knight that specializes in axe throwing.

Rhonda: a self-taught apothecary and healer that specializes in healing magic.

Milligan: man who was taken in by the team when he showed up on their doorstep with no memory. He has the sigil of what he believes to be Curtain's kingdom's symbol tattooed on his wrist and worries that this means he might have been a bad person once. Later, he has flashbacks of living and working in a palace with other higher ups, including Curtain, and fears the worst.

Reynie: An orphan boy who is ostracized by the others for being able to study magic. He answers Nicholas' advertisement hoping to gain the ability to study and develop his ability.

Miss. Perumal: Reynie's magic tutor who teaches him how to use his powers. She has some abilities herself, and if we want to bring mythical creatures into this, I could see her being part fairy.

Sticky: the high achieving son of deceased nobles who is under tremendous pressure to inherit his family's land and manage the family estate as his mother and father once did. He'd prefer to use his gift of intellect to study and help others, but his extended family insists that this is his destiny and he must spend his time learning things like manners and the ways of high society so he's ready when he comes of age. Sticky, feeling trapped and under pressure, sees Nicholas' advertisement, and runs away to answer it.

Kate: her main backstory doesn't have to change. She is a performer that goes from village to village in a traveling circus. She believes that she was abandoned by her father, who she recalls used to be some sort of knight. Eventually, she begins to long for more than circus life, and dreams of becoming a knight herself (but a good one. Not a bad one like the father who left her). She sees Nicholas' advertisement and decides to answer it.

Constance: She's extremely gifted in magic without ever having studied it, but she has no idea why. She can't remember much of her past and has been kicked out of orphanage after orphanage for things like accidently enchanting her bully's desk to be filled with bugs (Constance did not always mean to do this, but her emotions tend to manifest into real world events). Desperate to understand herself, she too answers the advertisement.

Now for the drama of it all. Nicholas discovers that the dark wizard that has cursed the land and declared himself king is in fact Nathaniel his brother. Meanwhile, the children have infiltrated Curtain's school and discover that Curtain plans to tighten his grip on the world by casting a final dark spell that will recruit all lords and ladies (the noble class, people with money, land, and influence), magic users, and knights to his side or otherwise will curse all who resist and leave them poor, alone, destitute, and without their memories or powers. However, Curtain has been struggling to get the spell to work and discovers that certain types of ancient magic can only be translated or understood by children (Nobody knows why. And I haven't thought that far ahead. Potential future twist maybe? But it explains why Curtain needs the kids).

Anyway, Curtain sees that Reynie seems to have a gift for magic and Sticky is quite knowledgeable when it comes to reading ancient texts. So he gives the boys an opportunity to study under him personally. At first, he identifies with Reynie as an misunderstood orphaned magic user and dismisses Sticky because he can tell by his manners and his knowledge of high society that he comes from money (like those rich snobs who adopted Nicholas). But eventually, Curtain realizes that Reynie is too hesitant to use dark magic (if you're hesitant to use it, it doesn't work as well), so he focuses on training Sticky as his apprentice, telling Sticky that he simply wants to learn more about the land's dark history so as not to repeat the mistakes of the past. His goal is to get Sticky to decipher the codes and spells for him, and then Curtain can hopefully use his own magic to cast the spell, or if he must convince another child to do so, find one that is powerful enough and willing to cast the spell. Curtain also casts his own spells that give Sticky good feelings and make him want to comply. While under the influence of the magic, Sticky figures since he's just really intelligent, but doesn't use magic himself, then what's the worst that could happen if he helps Curtain translate a few things? After all, working with him will enable him to get more information about his plans.

Meanwhile, Martina and Kate are training as knights and develop a rivalry that turns to unlikely friendship that is torn asunder when Martina realizes Kate has been a spy. Constance has been doing her best to hide her powers ever since the children realize Curtain is looking for powerful children for his work. However, since she isn't good at tests like Sticky or the training to be a knight like Kate, she is placed under the care of Jackson and Jillson (who find her to be a delightful small child) in order to train to be an entertainer and court jester. Constance hates every minute of this, and lessons include juggling, puppeteering, and joke telling. Sometimes her powers do activate and cause chaos, but Jackson and Jillson believe this is part of the performance and a testament to her talent. SQ, fed up with palace life and ready to enter his Disney Princess™️ era, sneaks into the part of the palace his father has reserved for his school and pretends to be a regular student. While there he befriends Reynie and eventually learns of his father's true plans, but Reynie still never learns that SQ is the king's son (indeed, most people are only vaguely aware Curtain even has a son, and most imagine him to be this super powerful and intimidating guy).

The main conflict (basically season 1): There is a final fight between the children and Curtain where Constance reveals her powers. Curtain sees an opportunity to use her for his spell, but she overpowers him. Martina and Kate duel and Kate wins, offering Martina a chance to come with them, but Martina angrily refuses, humiliated to have been defeated, and calls Kate a coward for not finishing her off. Kate replies that that's not who she is, and she doesn't believe that's who Martina is either. Martina says that Kate doesn't know her.

Nicholas shows up at the palace to confront Curtain, who is still angry about what happened between them and claims that putting the world under his order is what is best. Nicholas is shocked that his brother has done this, because Nathaniel never used dark magic when they were kids, both of them believing it was dangerous and evil. Nicholas asks his brother what changed, and Curtain tells him that he grew up and realized that the "power of love" and "good magic" can't solve everything and that some people need to make necessary sacrifices. Nicholas seems heartbroken, and Curtain, in a strange moment of sentimentality, offers Nicholas a chance to join him in exchange for forgiving his friends and family of their transgressions against him. Nicholas refuses, and Reynie and Sticky succeed in undoing some of the dark spells Curtain has cast over the world. Realizing he is losing his control, Curtain responds by casting a simple sleeping spell on Nicholas and escaping with his followers (all other bad guy characters mentioned). Everything plays out much like it does in the show, with Kate and Milligan realizing that they are father and daughter.

Now season 2. Curtain kidnaps Nicholas and brainwashes him to join him and help promote his rule, claiming that Curtain's magic and his rule are good things. The others try to save him. Meanwhile, Martina begins to have doubts about their mission and voices them to Jackson and Jillson, who assure her that she is doing the right thing.

SQ confronts his father with the information he has learned only to be repeatedly dismissed and told that he must trust that this is for the best. SQ instead does some snooping on his own and discovers that his birth parents were once rulers of an island nation and that Curtain was their friend and advisor on their court. He then assumes that Curtain must have used dark magic to betray them, kill them, and take over. Terrified, he runs away under the cover of night, and eventually bumps into Reynie, the only person he remembers meeting at the Institute. The kids explain that they are going to rescue their leader, Mr. Benedict, who wants to stop the dark wizard (Curtain) from taking over the world. SQ, learning his father has a twin for the first time, makes the split second decision to join them in their mission, while wondering what else his father has lied to him about. The children discover that SQ can do some simple spells that his father taught him, is pretty well educated, and although not exactly athletic, does know some basic fighting techniques. SQ teaches them what he knows, and they teach him things he doesn't know.

Meanwhile, Curtain's spell that he used to make Nicholas join him and comply begins to have disturbing side effects. He goes to Garrison for help, but she tells him that she warned him against using that kind of magic, and that it can't be reverse. He tells her that he will find a way, no matter what it takes. He then discovers his son is missing, and when he's spotted with the society, Curtain claims (and believes) they've kidnapped and brainwashed SQ and offers a reward to capture and bring them to the palace. This leads the others discover that SQ is Curtain's son. At first, they worry he's a spy, but SQ eventually convinces them that he's on their side, and that he is ready to fight his father and figure out the truth.

The kids show up to stop Curtain. Martina fights SQ at first, and is about to beat him, when Kate saves him by distracting Martina. Martina fights Kate again and this time she wins, but can't bring herself to kill Kate, admitting that Kate was right about her and about Curtain. Martina then decides to join them, much to the dismay of Jackson and Jillson, who blow trumpets alerting the greys of their arrival. Jeffers and his men show up to fight Martina and Kate (and Milligan and Number Two, who show up just in time).

Reynie, Sticky, Rhonda, and Miss. Perumal try some spells to help Mr. Benedict, but it doesn't work. Then Curtain and Garrison show up. Curtain puts a simple sleeping spell on Rhonda and Miss. Perumal. The boys are horrified, but Curtain explains that they will awaken in a few hours, once they've been escorted to their cells. The boys demand to know what will happen to Mr. Benedict. Garrison tells them they have no hope of helping Nicholas and that she warned Curtain this would happen. Curtain angrily replies that he gave her everything, including a chance to develop and practice her magic with no limitations, but she was only interested in holding him back, and she shouldn't pretend to care about his brother. The boys, realizing that Curtain does care about Mr. Benedict, try to convince him to turn good, but he replies that he is good and they are the ones that need to change.

He freezes the boys with magic and is about to cast a spell on them, when Constance arrives and challenges Curtain to rematch. The original plan was to have Constance only intervene if necessary, because the others suspected that after last time, Curtain and Garrison might have figured out a way to siphon off her magic. Curtain, hungry for power and realizing that taking her magic might enable him to both save Nicholas and keep his power, offers Constance a deal. Join him, give up her magic, and help him save Nicholas and he'll release her friends. He even does a truth spell on himself to verify he is telling the truth (idk if the narcolepsy thing is in this, this is already so much I don't want to add more, but if it is, he falls asleep and this verifies that he's telling the truth). Constance is about to agree, when SQ bravely runs in and challenges his dad to a duel of magic and sword. Curtain, who does not recognize his son with a helmet over his head, believes this is just some random knight and tries to magic him away, but finds to his surprise that this random knight has some fairly good countering spells. So they duel a bit, but Curtain gets the upper hand. In frustration at his plans being delayed, Curtain begins casting a painful and damaging spell on SQ, causing him to groan and scream in pain, at which point, his helmet falls off. Curtain immediately drops his hands, horrified at what he's done, and runs to his son's side. SQ weakly asks if this is what his father did to his birth parents. Curtain vehemently denies it, shocked his son would ask that, and it's heavily implied that something went wrong in the past that resulted in Curtain trying to use dark magic to fix it, but that ultimately, he wasn't powerful enough, and it resulted in the deaths of SQ's birth parents (I guess this is an SOS AU now. I don't know anymore).

Curtain asks SQ why he would turn against his own family, and SQ tells his father about how trapped he felt in the sheltered palace life Curtain had set up for him and how betrayed he felt that his father had kept so much from him. Curtain replies that he was only ever trying to protect him. SQ starts growing weaker and weaker as Nicholas' side effects start getting worse. Garrison is sad to see them both in pain and dying, but tells Constance and Curtain that she's not powerful enough to fix it, and that most of the magic that would is too powerful, even for any of them. Curtain, upon hearing this, attempts a spell that will exchange his own life for SQ's, but finds he's not powerful enough to use it, and that the dark magic he's been using has left him too corrupted to effectively cast a self-sacrificing spell. Curtain starts to cry and tells SQ that he loves him, hugging him close to his chest. SQ replies weakly, gasping for breath that despite everything, he loves his father too. This begins to heal SQ (power of love and all that. Beautiful stuff. What? It's a fairytale. I can give it a fairytale ending).

Constance, seeing that love was able to heal SQ, decides to give it a try. She walks over to Mr. Benedict and tells him that the reason she denied his offer of adoption was because she was scared of him leaving her like she assumes her parents must have. But now, she wishes she had accepted his offer, and that they had more time together because she would love to spend every second of it with him as her family. This heals Nicholas.

Happy ending right? Wrong. Curtain takes SQ to the palace on the islands where his birth parents lived (which had since been abandoned, but SQ realizes the sigil of his birth parents is the same one Curtain was using). Curtain then goes off on his own journey to released the world from his dark spells, with Nicholas to help him. The twins complete the task and return to the islands to find SQ missing (and a message from home via urgent carrier pigeon confirms Constance has gone missing as well). The twins investigate and find a mysterious woman occupying the islands. They demand to know where their children have gone. She tells them that they will be fine, provided the twins are willing to comply and embrace their destinies. She then introduces herself as their sister and says they have a lot to talk about.

And that's all I got. Please don't ask me to finish this, I'm tired. But I hope you like it.

#Long post #mbs fairytale au #tmbs fairytale au #mbs au #tmbs au #the mysterious benedict society #mysterious benedict society #tmbs #mbs #mbs disney #tmbs disney #nathaniel benedict #nicholas benedict #ledroptha curtain #sq curtain #mbs fanfic #tmbs fanfic

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soleilnomoon · 2 years ago

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Sooo.... there's no way I could ever resist submitting a request in one of your events. +_+ Been hurrying to get up from bed for this, I hope I'll still catch a slot :D so excited you're doing this!!!!

Can I please have some mangos and strawberries, with a Mai Tai (Ace)? <3 I'd love to listen to any combination of the songs #3, #9, #39, #43 (sorry, but this SCREAMS of Ace; also any variant of it, like talking to a 3rd person about it), #38 (couldn't resist the combination). OMG. It's soooo hard to choose....! There's so many combi-ideas! +_+ I absolutely love this! Thank you so much for doing this event! :D

omg hiiii 🥰️ that pic is killing me 😭😭 lmaooo *shakes u* so i rewrote this like 10x i think, but it’s finally done and i am v excited for you to read it. also i’m so happy you requested, you always pick good prompts lmao anyway, ty for being patient 😊 as u know i’m slow as hell when it comes to writing — also the fluff almost killed me!!!! 💗

3.5k words (pls pls i know i know!!!! it's not my fault, i blame ace), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; fluff (it's there i promise, somewhere) & smut (and angst that u didn't ask for <3); modern au! feat. ace being a menace as usual, reader in denial (serious serious denial) of her feelings, reader's a lil shyyy ok, public sex, (slight) public exhibition, public sex, choking, rough sex, hand job, oral (m receiving), ace being shirtless is a warning, childhood frenz 2 lovers (who am i), mutual pining, reader is foolish & needs to be honest, ace needs to calm down but he never will. idk! probably more stuff idr yk the vibes. (if u see spelling errors/grammar mistakes, no u didn't bb 💕)

a warm breeze wraps itself around your arms and legs, languid and loving — a heavy embrace that unjustly suffocates, with a light sheen of sweat that belatedly appears on your forehead. your denim shorts ride up higher on your thighs the more you move around; for some reason, you just can’t seem to get comfortable. loud music wafts from your parents’ house through the open sliding doors, the beats catchy and mesmerizing, lulling you into a much more relaxed state as you continue to lounge on the hammock in the backyard. another breeze glides along your skin, making you roll over onto your back, the rope from the hammock rough but comforting.

to keep yourself from spiraling, you close your eyes and soak up as much of the sun as possible. your lips are a little red and sticky from the popsicle you ate just a few minutes ago; it helped to cool you down for a bit, but the heat is relentless and oppressive.

after graduating from college, you left home and traveled for a few years; you’ve always had that itch, a desire to roam about freely without having anything — or anyone — tying you down. it’s why you left so quickly; it’s why you didn’t say goodbye properly; and it’s why you’ve been on edge all afternoon.

you groan loudly before covering your face with your hands.

“this is so stupid.” your words are muffled and strained, your frustration rising along with the temperature outside. it’s simple — all you have to do is casually strike up conversation with him and act like nothing’s changed.

so easy, right?

you desperately want it to be, but the universe has a penchant for bad jokes and the punch line is currently on its way to disrupt your life.

“he probably won’t even come by anyway,” you continue to mumble before dropping your hands. a frown climbs onto your lips afterwards. the idea that your parents might actually be wrong, that he isn’t going to come by like he promised he would, is all too much for you to deal with.

and suddenly, you feel like you can’t breathe; the air grows thick enough to choke on, an obnoxious thudding growing louder and louder in your ears—

but before you can succumb to your unfortunate demise, someone pinches your nose, disrupting the chaotic flow of thoughts pummeling into you one right after the other. squirming around, you stare, wide-eyed, at the last person you thought you’d see today.

despite pressing his lips together, it does nothing to stop him from laughing at you — not maliciously, but he really can’t help it. your look of genuine shock and confusion is cute. really, really cute. adorable, even. maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen you in so long, or maybe it’s because he’s been waiting for a moment like this to pop up so you both can finally have that one conversation you keep running away from.

you are wholly unprepared to see ace this soon; words rush from the pit of your stomach up to your mouth, ready to fling ace’s way without restraint. but, as always, you hold back. you’ve gotten quite good at biting your tongue, at stamping out certain emotions; it’s better, easier that way.

no one gets hurt, right?

right.

with a sly smile, ace slides his sunglasses away from his face, upwards onto his hair; you were in such a daze that you barely heard him walk over. which worked out fine for ace, because he could look at you freely without you hiding from him like you usually do — a thing he hopes you’ve grown out of in the time you’ve spent apart.

if you thought you couldn’t breathe before, you’re definitely gasping for air now. lips parted, you inhale deeply as a completely different kind of heat surges through you faster than you’d like. he pauses for a moment before gently swiping his thumb along your plush bottom lip.

an insidious thudding echoes loudly around your ears, and you realize, in fear, that it’s the sound of your heart — beating erratically at his proximity and touch. talking feels impossible, so you remain silent and stare at him in disbelief.

it feels like an eternity passes before ace smiles again, your eyes track the way his lips slowly curve upward, bringing about that familiar dimple in his right cheek. something possesses you to reach up to touch his cheek, the tips of your fingers barely grazing his skin when you realize what you’re doing. you snatch your hand back quickly, a light-headedness descending upon you right after.

on impulse, ace leans down until his lips ghost over yours, the familiarity of the gesture triggering a memory so strong that goosebumps unceremoniously prickle your skin without remorse. you remember exactly how skillful his mouth is; you remember how your limbs were tangled with his; and you remember how you almost blurted out a hidden truth that you refused to admit to. he’d gone still, nearly statuesque as an unreadable look morphed onto his face; fear of rejection had you scrambling away from his embrace, nearly out of breath as you darted out of his bedroom without looking back.

remorse finds its way to you again, but your thoughts are too scattered to properly feel it. if you don’t figure something out soon, you’ll give in to him all over again — and you simply can’t do that.

however, ace has a way of diverting your plans with his whims and spontaneity.

“hey, pretty,” he says, voice low and husky, with a hint of that mischievous and boyish charm he’s well-known for; his hand on your hip is practically scalding, his thumb coasting dangerously on your soft stomach, but you don’t push him away. a soft whimper dares to slip out of your mouth when his grip tightens and you’re so sure that he’s going to kiss you — but he doesn’t.

ace straightens up and sticks his hands into his pockets, all innocent-like, completely disregarding the fact that he’s the reason why your heart is beating loud enough to rattle your bones. his cologne lingers — a rich and heavy, spiced scent with hints of blackberry — and you get drunk from it, mind a little hazy. you’re in too much shock to feel any sort of shame, and if he wasn’t so intent on teasing you for a bit longer, he would’ve already succumbed to the temptation of kissing you.

he really just meant to say hi, but you were being cute while talking out loud to yourself, your voice traveling further than you probably wanted; it was the sight of your exposed legs — curvy and soft, skin glistening almost flawlessly under the sun — that really fueled his audacity. since you’re prone to running, he did the only thing that made sense: invade your personal space. it’s the only way to keep you still long enough to talk.

or, so he thought.

“w-what are you doing here?” you ask in a panic, moving around on the hammock, eyes widening again as you shamelessly stare at his chest. he still has that peculiar habit of walking around shirtless, which is your justification for why you keep looking at him like that — his abs look more defined than before, but you refrain from touching him again.

ace completely ignores your question and instead says, “you’re hot.” he tilts his head a bit, that sly grin finding its way onto his lips again when you stumble over your words.

“i—what?”

you sit up and climb off the hammock with clumsy and hurried movements. thankfully he has the decency to not laugh this time, but that pesky dimple resurfaces, and you have to ball your hands into fists and sink your nails into your palms to keep yourself from saying something unnecessary and embarrassing.

“why are you—” you cut yourself off, take a deep breath, and try again, “i don’t understand.”

is he joking? he has to be, there’s no way he’s forgiven you for leaving him like that; and even though he called you pretty earlier, you’re sure that’s just his way of wanting to rile you up for his own amusement.

and while you’re not entirely wrong about that, he was being serious.

he lifts his chin and motions to your chest; sweat glides down your neck and sneaks in between your cleavage. you realize, then, that he meant that you literally looked hot. pressing your lips together firmly, you decide against speaking and opt to march past him instead. you don’t get far, if anything ace only allows you to move a few feet away before wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you back.

your mouth dries and you try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let up.

“you’re hurting my feelings, y’know,” he says quietly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. you bite your lower lip before rolling it in between your teeth, contemplating his words. you know you’re being ridiculous, and you know you owe him an explanation — your cowardice nearly wins out, but you settle down and sigh softly.

“you’re right, i’m sorry.” for so many things, but you keep that bit to yourself.

ace only laughs again at your austere demeanor. “just kidding, i just want to be selfish right now.” something about that sets your skin on fire, although it probably doesn’t help that ace places a kiss on the side of your neck before you can respond to him properly.

suddenly, all that fight that you had — that determination to avoid him completely — leaves your body. on a sharp inhale you turn around and look up at him curiously, to see if he’s actually being serious or not; ace stares at you intently, adoration saturated in lust clouding his vision. he holds onto the back of your neck and kisses you, his tongue playfully licking your bottom lip, grinning at how sweet you taste.

you shiver and open your mouth for him as he kisses you again, slow and sensuous, your legs nearly giving out from the intensity. his hand travels down your back, its descent searing and playful; you kiss him back with fervor and enthusiasm, lips moving against his as if this is a common occurrence for you two.

his tongue swirls around yours and when his large hand moves lower to grab your ass, you nearly lose your mind. there’s an intense, unavoidable ache in between your thighs as you cling onto him desperately, whimpering softly against his lips. he told himself he’d take it slow, but the way you’re reacting to him only confirms what he’s always known: you want him just as much as he wants you.

it’s in between heated tongue kisses that ace suggests a change in location. dazed and slightly confused, you feel yourself nodding as he tugs you along with him, anticipation making you stumble over your sandaled feet. he has half a mind to just carry you back inside, but you eventually keep up with his long strides. you hide behind ace when your parents step outside, boisterously chatting with a few of their guests as they sit at the table on the deck underneath the large awning. you’re glad they barely take notice of you — they’re halfway drunk already — and ace laughs at your demure behavior, prompting you to pinch his arm playfully and shushing him. it’s your feeble attempt at sneaking by without anyone interrogating you.

when you successfully make it back into your house, you let out a sigh, embracing the cool air.

“that was close,” you say out loud and at ace’s puzzled expression, you motion to your parents outside, “they almost saw us.”

he blinks slowly and lifts a brow. “so?” ace has never been one to hide like that, so he’s unsure why you want to.

“what do you mean ‘so’?” your face burns as soon as the words leave your mouth; you’re not sure why you’re feeling bashful, but it becomes harder and harder to look at ace. maybe it’s because you’re so aroused that you’d let him fuck you in the kitchen without complaint, or maybe it’s because you can’t come to terms with your feelings for him.

or, maybe it’s a combination of both.

either way, ace doesn’t know why you care.

sighing loudly he walks out of the kitchen, fully expecting you to follow — and you do. you’re unsure if you’ve said the wrong thing; actually, you know you’ve said the wrong thing, but before you can apologize, ace pushes you against the wall, hands placed on either side of your head as he cages you in.

“who cares if anyone sees?”

he’s right, you know that; it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. but when he presses places a kiss on your neck, you melt — heart beating faster than necessary, making you dizzy with want. you place your hands on his chest, his muscles firm under your soft touch; ace inhales sharply when you bring your hands lower, his cock stiff and heavy in his shorts, an irritating reminder that his self-restraint is dissipating quickly.

later on, when you reflect on this moment, you’ll chastise yourself about how impulsive you both were — fucking in your hallway while your parents entertain guests not even forty feet away — but for now, you just want to indulge in the fantasy and not think about anything.

ace grabs your wrist clumsily, suddenly remembering himself while halting your movements. you blink at him, confused and anxious; maybe he changed his mind about everything? maybe this was payback for the last time you were together — and, if you’re honest, you can’t exactly blame him. swallowing hard, you relax your face and opt for a more neutral expression.

normally much more forthcoming with his wants and desires, ace hesitates, momentarily, dark brows furrowed as a frown settles onto his lips.

“maybe we shouldn’t…,” he closes his eyes and presses his forehead against yours, inhaling deeply, your perfume immobilizing him temporarily before he speaks again. “you deserve better than me.”

you sit with his words for a moment but it’s not long before your hands work at tugging his shorts and underwear down. he looks at you, light brown cheeks flushed slightly when he notices the way you’re staring. you knew he was big, but goodness — still, you don’t let that deter you, and wrap a hand around his cock and slowly stroke it. ace lets out a quiet groan and it encourages you to move your hand faster.

with a soft peck on his lips, you say, “that’s not for you to decide.” which is all you’ll say on the matter. your feelings for him were too big for you to handle before, but now — now that you’ve been forced to confront your own damn self, a belated sense of clarity falls over you. it was never easy to convey your feelings into words when it came to him, but you’re very sure that he’ll understand you now.

ace’s hips jut forward when your grip around his cock tightens; he lets out a low hiss, doing his best not to be too loud since you’re so adamant about not getting caught. pre-cum spills from his slit, down onto your hand; a fascinating sight that has you sinking to your knees without much thought and replacing your hand with your mouth.

at that he moans much louder than he means to, but once your plush lips wrap around the thick head of his cock, he stops caring.

“fuck,” he breathes, leaning against the wall for support as you flick your tongue against his slit — a dangerous move, but one that you make with the full confidence that ace would, in turn, fuck you like you’ve always wanted him to.

you run your tongue down his length with gusto, as if his cock was an addictive summer treat. and, maybe it is, because you open your mouth and bob up and down his length. you use your hands for what you can’t fit in your mouth, moaning around him as you press your thighs together. your mouth is sinfully warm and wet — forbidden, almost; he grabs a fistful of your hair, holding you steady as he thrusts his hips forward.

holding onto his thighs, you slacken your jaw and keep your tongue flat, arousal building as he fucks your mouth. he knows he should be gentle, but he’s reached his limit and you’re being so compliant — he can’t really help himself. not that you mind, your panties are already damp from your slick arousal; his movements are rushed and purposeful, but you enjoy the way he’s seemingly lost control of himself.

you gag around him, breathe deeply through your nose, and ignore the tears that spill down your round cheeks. ace moans your name and your heart expands pitifully in your chest, warmth traveling all along your body. he knows he’ll never last if he keeps this up, so he pulls out of you without warning. you nearly fall over but you hold onto him, looking up at him curiously, long lashes tantalizing and mesmerizing as your tears start to dry.

he pulls you up to your feet and kisses you again with a hand wrapped around your throat; he gives it a teasing squeeze and you moan against his lips. it doesn’t take long before you unbutton your shorts and pull them down with your panties — your thighs trembling with each passing second. you wrap your legs around him possessively when he picks you up; the kisses grow more urgent and sloppier, your heart threatening to kill you mercilessly with how hard its beating.

this must be what dying feels like, you tell yourself, although when he rubs the tip of his cock in between your slick folds, you buck your hips forward and beg him to stop teasing you.

since he’s not that cruel, ace lines the head of his cock with your entrance and inches forward; sucking in a bit of air, you hold onto him tightly, and when you relax, ace thrusts into you. the moan you let out is absolutely indecent, your pussy a lewd, greedy thing that swallows his cock without much issue. with long strokes, ace knocks his hips against yours, a strangled cry slipping out of you unexpectedly. ace kisses you again and again — an attempt to keep you quiet — but soon, his strokes get shorter and frenzied as he fucks you harder, almost like he wants to incapacitate you with an orgasm.

you wouldn’t mind going out like that, especially when ace is fucking you like that, balls slapping against your ass loudly, mouth hungrily searching for his while you harshly drag your nails down the back of his neck. he doesn’t mind as the pain is minimal, and he likes the idea of you marking him the way he’s marked you.

it becomes increasingly difficult to keep quiet, but you’ve long forgotten why you needed to keep quiet in the first place. your saving grace is that your parents and their friends are more intoxicated than you originally thought and are in their own world as they laugh and dance outside. somewhere down the line, you lost your common sense — you suppose it happened when ace came to find you earlier — and because of that, you let go. your cunt squeezes around him tightly, your arousal coating the length of him; ace angles his hips and his cock reaches a spot that’s deep enough to make you babble at him incoherently.

he laughs and drops a playful kiss on your lips, his hands gripping your ass as he powers into you. a flash of white robs you of your vision, a liquid heat swirling around your lower abdomen as you cum hard with his name in your mouth. hips rolling forward, he bites your neck recklessly and your orgasm intensifies.

“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. yes!” you chant without restraint, throat hoarse, voice raw. he breathes unevenly, thrusting feverishly into your puffy pussy, his own orgasm finding him shortly after.

ace groans as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your throat, your whines saccharine and enticing; there are so many things he wants (and needs) to say, but he pushes that aside, deciding to enjoy this moment with you instead. you pant lightly and hold onto him, heartbeat slowing until it matches his. you should probably hurry up and get dressed, since there’s no telling when someone will come through that hallway, but you can’t be bothered right now. you’re much more interested in the way ace kisses you again, leaving you breathless and terribly in love.

if you were privy to his thoughts, you’d know that he feels the same way and has felt that way for a long, long time — and sometimes he feels like he loves you a little too much. still, you feel much lighter now, sighing softly as you arch against him; the intimacy of it, surprisingly, doesn’t scare you, and now you wonder if maybe you were thinking too much about everything before. it seems that your problem has always had a simple solution, but you’re just glad that ace pushed you to figure it out. it isn’t something you’d normally do, but for ace you have a tendency to think and act impulsively without warning; he likes that side of you, and hopes that you’ll keep acting like that in the future.

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