#sweet fallacy
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Ship art !!
Error x Candy <3 ⚠️ 🍭
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* Credits !
Error belongs to loverofpiggies !
Candy belongs to ??
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#mdraw#sanscest#error x candy#candy x error#errorcandy#candyerror#sweet fallacy#<- ship name#error sans#error!sans#candytale#candy sans#candy!sans
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Saying that someone not liking elements of something means they want a happy ending or are anti tragedy or anti twisted shit is mmmm a big old logical leap!! I guess some people watch yellowjackets and don’t want tragedy but uhhh idk I have yet to see them have yellowjackets obsessions (not saying it isn’t possible just! seems very much less common!)
I (and many other people who didn’t like elements of this season or it’s approach to shit) gobbled the tragedy the fuck up s1! I was actually sitting at the proverbial table banging my proverbial knife and fork with a proverbial empty plate for the first half of s2 chanting fuck it up, fuck it up, fuck it up!
People having narrative critiques of HOW they did dark shit are not automatically ANTI dark shit lmao like I actually think that the reason much of it doesn’t hit for me personally is the lack of agency/the accidental nature of the tragedies. Like. I want more fucked up shit ACTUALLY. I want tragedy that doesn’t feel corny as fuck in execution. You can very much hate the way nats death and the hunts etc etc were done BECAUSE you don’t feel like they executed the level of psychological horror s1 promised! Also you can love it! Or you can be in between! Or you can not care! But like consolidating any criticism of unhappy story lines with doesn’t like dark shit is a wild oversimplification.
I know people feel reactive and defensive of things they love!! But it’s okay to not agree with someone’s take and ignore it. It’s also okay to engage with it! But like, dismissing any criticism with a weird idk you people don’t like/understand horror/sad shit party line is the worst kind of engaging, because you’re not actually engaging you’re just going out of your way to dismiss without taking what they’re really saying into account!
#I am so tired! I have barely even discussed it yet and people are in the asks like <3 you don’t UNDERSTAND you want a happy ending! <3#I actually! do not! want a happy ending lol like at all! my favorite story was adult shauna grieving jackie I promise I like tragedy!#I want them to do WORSE things INTENTIONALLY!#and idk where in anything I’ve ever said you get that I want things to be nice and sweet and not horror lmao#so that tells me MAYBE you’re engaging without actually engaging!#not everyone has to agree with you and you don’t have to do some weird logical fallacy jumping jacks to make them Obsolete somehow lol#yellowjackets
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pspspspsps,, coney island by taylor swift w (again) the godheim boys,,,
#★ sweet nothings.#okay so . “break my soul in two - looking for you but you're right here”#= the godheim boys knowing you're so close - a life away from theirs' but also oh so far. an ocean away kind of distance yk?#“and when I got into the accident” = her returning back to her world - “the sight that flashed before me was your face”#“but when i walked up to the podium i think that i forgot to say your name” can mean mc in her proper world getting an award for her manga#+ is at the podium and accepting the award for creating a beautiful story#- but she forgets to mention the names of those she left (and had loved in her time during godheim) because no one would get her.#no one would believe the emotion in her voice and mistake the cracks in them for gratitude instead of regret - longing#- and fallacies among#- all else that she's done to a universe that was real (in her mind)#and to the people she knew (that made her the centerfold/key to grasping freedom and peace)#okay i'm gonna stop now i ramble too much i'm sorry fdjhsdfkfgjhhdfklsddsffdds#lovebrush chronicles#lovebrush chronicles x reader
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Odtsegtseg, can you touch your nose with your tongue?
"What an unusual query! Nevertheless if this is to issue a challenge, I suppose the least I can do is oblige," Odtsetseg chirped, fascinated by the idea of it.
There were a few attempts made; tongue sticking out and going just above her lips. Eyes squinted in concentration and auri woman made an effort to touch at least bottom of nose. Unfortunately, each time twas of no avail. After the fifth attempt of doing these actions, Odtsetseg sighed in defeat.
“Ah, it appears that regrettably I cannot perform such feats. A shame, really.”
#EVER FEEDING OFF THE FALLACY CREATING THIS MESS (anonymous)#LET GO THIS DESTINY YOU'RE CAUGHT IN A TRANCE (answered ask)#COME! I SHALL DANCE AND SING TO THE TRAGEDY OF FATE (ic)#((ah this was so sweet <3))#((thank u for the fun op))
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𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨? || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary_ when medical supplies run out in Jackson, you volunteer to go to the mall as an alibi to get goodies for your family, only that your husband Joel isn’t pleased with your decision.
warnings_ age gap! (20s/ 50s) but not specifically stated so do what u want, protective! Joel, chill mother! reader, fluff, implied sex, smidge of angst, fallacy references. NO PROOFREAD
notes_ fallacy family is back, I missed them so much, I just re-edited the whole story, recommend reading it again although is not necessary for this fic.
✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚)
♪ ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙋𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀
• 「 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 」
𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 𓆸⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 𓆸⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 𓆸𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 𓆸⋆。𖦹°⭒
1. Wash hands and prepare the wound. ...
2. Use your needle driver to grab the needle. ...
3. Use the tissue forceps to expose the side of the wound you'll begin the suture on. ...
4. Push the needle through the skin at a 90-degree angle about a centimeter to the right of the wound.
You read out loud with perfect grammatical rules, leaving perfect timing between commas and periods. It’s been a year and a half since you started teaching and a new cycle had begun by late summer.
“Now follow the pattern I just demonstrated and I’ll pass around to see your progress” you softly indicated with a smile to your students.
Everyone was great, you held back a new smile when you passed by Ellie’s table. She smirks at you in disguise and you give her a thumbs up to cheer her up.
Mrs. Miller is so hot, you’re so lucky to live with her….
You want to laugh so hard after hearing Ellie’s friends failing to whisper those words.
Everyone knew you were married to the mighty Joel Miller. The town knew you were Tommy and Maria’s sister-in-law. They knew you were a great nurse and teacher. And they loved it when they heard Mrs. Miller would organize the holiday events of Jackson.
“Okay, guys. You did great. Tomorrow we’ll keep the practice of sewing and cleaning superficial wounds. Now get out of here” They happily started leaving one by one saying goodbye to you.
Ellie seemed to be arguing with his friend. She continuously rolled her eyes and sighed until the boy smiled at you and left. So you raised an eyebrow towards the girl and she stood up finally.
“Are you coming back home with me or are you gonna go play with your friend?”
“Jesse is not my friend and of course, I’m going home with you. Rosalie and Rae are still coming for dinner, right?” You nod at her, giggling because of her attitude.
“You should take Jesse as your friend. He is a nice boy” Ellie only rolled her eyes once again.
“He’s annoying as well as his other friend named Dina. They are awkward and they are not as funny as Rosalie, Cerise, Joel, and you” she admits closing her backpack.
“Aww, Ellie! That’s so sweet of you…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah… But let’s go, your baby must be very fussy”
Damn, she’s right. Your little baby was a bolter, Cerise Miller was eleven months old. She had started trying to waddle and she often repeated vague words. Usually courtesy of her father; Joel loved his little angel and always talked to her.
You would never get tired of going straight to your little family after a long day.
“Would you like non-flour biscuits and steak for dinner?” Ellie nodded smiling but then frowned.
“You know I’d love to but… our rations for the week won’t be enough… Oh, and don’t you dare to ask Maria and Tommy for more, that would be very embarrassing” she said as you could only be laughing at her.
“You wouldn’t mind if I asked them, you don’t want me to do it because that would give you less right to be mean to them”
“Maybe…”
After closing the classroom, you and Ellie exit the little building that served as a school. It was the middle of the week and summer remained peaking as autumn was around the corner.
“Hey… Can I ask you a question?” Ellie nodded at you.
“Sure…”
“Do your classmates think that we are like… mother and daughter?” You asked with a shy tone.
The streets were kind of busy as you and the fifteen-year-old girl started your way towards home.
“Nah… they know were like… friends or sisters? Besides… everyone knows you’re very chill” she admitted.
“I ain’t a chill person. I’m fair… that’s it”
“You’re chill, y/n. With your students, with your friends, with me, with your daughter, and even with Joel. And that drives him crazy” You smiled at the thought of your handsome husband.
A couple of weeks ago, the man came and decided to celebrate your first wedding anniversary by taking you to the same strawberry field where Cerise was born. It was romantic, then Maria arranged a little dinner for you two while she and Tommy took Cerise and Ellie for the night. That night Joel fucked you so damn good that you had to be very careful the following weeks, thinking you were pregnant once again. False alarm.
“But you shouldn’t be very chill with the other kids in class,” Ellie said.
“Why?”
“The boys are always drooling for you, especially the older ones. They keep saying you are a MILF” your eyes were wide open after she said that.
“Oh.”
“You know what that means”
“I sure do,” you said avoiding her gaze as you crossed another street.
“Can you tell me what it means?”
You’re a chill teacher, friend, mother, and wife. So you nodded at her.
“I can tell you, but I don’t to hear you saying it”
“Sure, man. I promise” Ellie sweared.
“It stands for Mom I’d Like To Fuck…” Ellie blushed immediately, making you laugh embarrassed as well.
“I told you so…” you said, finally arriving home.
You open the door of the house and the first thing you notice is Maria and Tommy’s kid there. He smiles and you lock the door before kneeling to greet him.
“Hello, kid. How are you? Have you been taking care of my angel?” You questioned the two-year-old boy with a kiss on his cheek. He could only coo and giggle.
“My little man has been a gentleman with Cerise since we arrived” Maria appeared with your daughter in her arms. She immediately asked to be in your arms and started squirming.
“Hi, little heart” you greeted her, kissing her hair that smelled like plums and sugar like her shampoo. She had the same soft hair and kind eyes as Joel. Something that always made you smile.
“What’s up, Cerise?” Ellie greeted your daughter, taking off her shoes and hanging her backpack near the entrance of the house.
“Okay, little man and I need to leave. We promised Tommy to have a movie night and they are almost back from patrol. Must get going…” Maria announced giving a quick hug and a squeeze on the hand of Cerise before saying one last goodbye and leaving with her kid.
“Hey, y/n. You never said how you got more meat for dinner?” You smirk to yourself, placing Cerise in her baby walker. It was old as hell, probably from the nineties. Joel had said it looked very similar to the baby walker Sarah had.
“Let’s say Star and I went to have a little hunting trip” you revealed, entering the kitchen and being followed by Cerise.
“If Joel finds out, you’re dead”
“I’m the chill wife. What can I say?” Both of you started laughing.
“Just be careful, y/n. Please…” Ellie said, so you reassured her by squeezing her shoulder.
“Always, Ellie. For my family, always…”
“Sudden change of subject but you know what would be awesome? A new lunchbox…” you turned to look at her backpack. It was the same backpack that traveled from the Boston QZ to Jackson. The lunch you made for her usually was a mess after a couple of hours.
“I’ll see what I can do to get you a new one. I also need new clothes for Cerise, farting isn’t enough to deflate her, she keeps growing” Ellie started laughing.
“Mind you, she’s your daughter, y/n”
“So? She’s my little heart but she’s still a stinky furball at times” you said kneeling to kiss and annoy Cerise, who cooed and screamed in happiness.
-
When Joel arrived home the sun had almost disappeared completely. He opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Ellie and you chasing Cerise, who was still on her baby walker, cooing loudly.
A big smile was planted on his face.
“Joel… Is that you, honey?” You asked, sounding agitated.
“Yes, dear.” You appear in his line of vision, wearing a pink sundress and bare feet.
He greets you in his arms, giving you a big kiss.
“Mmm… I missed you” you admitted.
“We made love this morning, y/n”
“So? We can be apart half an hour and I’ll miss you like I haven’t seen you in a year” he chuckled, kissing you once again. Only to be interrupted by something colliding at his feet.
Both of you look down, encountering Cerise, who has a toothy smile.
“Da-da… dad!” Joel immediately picked her up. Ellie came to the scene too, drinking from a glass of water and spreading some hair away from her face, only to greet Joel and then disappear upstairs.
“Hello, angel” It was a rare day when Joel didn't wake up questioning if he wasn’t dreaming. Even a year after coming back from Salt Lake City with Ellie and you, he couldn’t believe his new life. Where he lived near Tommy, he was married again, now working, unlike the first time. His wife was a young woman and gave him a daughter.
“Rosalie and Rae got caught up with work so they won’t join us for dinner. But they’re coming tomorrow with Tommy and Maria” Your husband nodded at you, playing with Cerise as she fought to grab Joel’s beard, which tickled her but couldn’t stop doing so.
“Oh, that’s terrible” his sarcastic tone was evident, which made you smile.
“What? Darlin’ you know I only want to be with my girls” Before he could hug you from behind, he placed Cerise on the carpet of the living room.
“Go take a shower and tell Ellie to come down, Texas” Your playful smile resulted contagious to him, so he got closer to kiss your cheek and spank your ass before leaving upstairs too.
-
Just by the time your family and you finished dinner, Cerise was already upstairs sleeping with Ellie. You and Joel were cleaning up the dishes as you listened to an old cassette player and said bad jokes.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door and both of you exchanged looks.
“I’ll take it…” you said.
When you open the door, you see Rosalie standing.
“Rosalie… What happened?”
“We need you in the clinic. One of the technicians had an accident and needs a little surgery” you gasped, feeling Joel coming to the door to slide a hand in your waist as he heard Rosalie.
“That’s why the power went out for some seconds?” Joel asked and Rosalie nodded.
“Yup… please, y/n” you nodded.
“Let me get my hoodie. Joel, Can you stay and check on the girls?”
“Sure, go on, darlin’…”
After another big kiss, you hurry along with Rosalie to get to the clinic.
-
“He is going to be fine, just one broken finger. There’s just one problem, we don’t have any cast…” Maria and one of the council members sigh, looking at each other. Jeremy was a thirty-four-year-old male technician who fell while trying to fix some wires. He had a little concussion and you stitched two of his fingers that were slightly burnt. His broken finger was the issue until you remembered the mall near Jackson.
“Maybe we have some materials to improvise a cast…”
“Or I can make a quick trip to the mall and get some supplies.”
“Maybe it’s not the best idea, y/n…”
“You know it’s mostly clear, perhaps one or two infected but it’s okay. Besides… I’ve proven to be trustworthy to go…” you had done some patrols along with Tommy and Joel, and they didn’t have any complaints about you.
“I guess not… Have you been inside the mall before?”
“Yes…” you lied.
The truth is you wanted to go alone to take your time. You had gone to the little abandoned market before, but the mall was different. While your priority was the medical supplies, you also had other interests. You wanted to get Ellie a new lunchbox, clothing for Cerise, and some flannels for Joel.
“Alright. Joel is going with you” Maria said and you nodded but maybe you wouldn’t let him know. He’d lock you before letting you go to the mall alone.
“Hey… Is it too late for a haircut?” You asked her.
“Nah… let’s go.”
-
The following morning, you leave a note for Ellie telling her the truth. And for Joel, a note that said you were going back to the clinic and then to school, that he take care of Cerise, and that you loved him so much.
After a quick breakfast, you ended up at the stables, saddling up Star.
“Goin’ somewhere, darlin’…?” Startled you don’t dare to turn back, but you know it’s your husband.
Shit, he’s gonna fuck me… and not like I’d want to.
“Oh hi, honey”
“Don’t bullshit me with that. Were you planning on tellin’ me you’re going to the mall alone?”
“You would’ve said no and we would’ve argued…”
“I’m coming with you. Now quit talkin’ 'cause I’m not very happy with you right now” he said, going for his horse.
Once you are ready to go, Joel finally faces you.
“You changed your hair…” you looked different, still gorgeous to his eyes.
“Yeah... Maria helped me out yesterday after the clinic incident. You like it?…”
“I love it, baby.” He had you blushing like a teenager and you hadn’t even left Jackson yet.
“Thanks, Joel” he smiled, knowing he couldn’t be mad at you any longer.
“Oh what the hell, come ‘ere, gorgeous.” You get close and he leans to passionately kiss you.
“I have the hottest wife, you know?” Pushing him gently, you start going back towards Star, avoiding his eyes with a giant smile.
“And I have the hottest husband, you know?”
“Deaf with a demolished back but I’m your old man,” he said, hugging you from behind, letting you he was half hard while feeling his cock against your ass.
“You got hard with my new haircut?”
“Course’ I would, darlin’. Can’t wait to see those little bangs against your forehead when I get you riding me” You sure reached a new level of embarrassment at that moment. And you thanked the stables were clear of humans.
“OKAY-… where did you leave my daughter, Texas?”
“Our daughter is with Tommy, California Dreamin’…”
“Good. Let’s go then…” you said smiling, finally leaving the town.
-
The mall was definitely not what you expected.
“So people used to come here to eat, shop, and just hang out in general?” Joel nodded, cautiously holding a flashlight with one hand and his rifle with the other.
“That’s right, love”
“This reminds me of the library you took me back in Boston” Joel sighed.
He remembered the man he was back then. Still grieving his past, being cold and mean towards the woman he saved. You were a broken and weak woman. And yet, you always smiled at him.
Your birthday was coming and Joel was tired of your intellectual talks, so he took you to pick some books. Now he understands he did that because deep down he already loved you back then.
He could also see you had bloomed into a new woman, and he couldn’t help but feel like he had fallen in love again.
“I was an asshole towards you.” He admitted walking through the mall.
“You were. But neither of us gave up on each other. And look at us now….” you optimistically said.
“We have a house, we have jobs, two kids and we’re having a date in a scary abandoned mall” Joel chuckled.
“This ain’t a date, baby”
“It is, shut up, Joel,” you said.
Since the priority was the medical supplies, that’s where you headed first. Then, you dragged Joel to get Ellie’s lunchbox, the only one available was one of Wonder Woman so you took it. Then, thankfully, you found a baby store.
“Oh my god! Look at these, Joel! She’s gonna look so fucking adorable!” You said showing him a pair of cowgirl boots.
“She could match you. Since you really love your boots, baby” Joel teased, crossing his arms, allowing himself to relax just a tiny bit. He knew you loved your brown boots, you wore them the whole year. With jeans, skirts, dresses, everything.
“Okay, just the boots and this adorable set of seasonal pajamas” One set was purple with orange and corn candies for Halloween, the other had pumpkins and pies, the other one of hearts, and a last one of snowflakes, cookies, and Christmas trees.
“Have you seen how Cerise is starting to bite everything?”
“Her teeth must be coming soon…” Joel confirmed, taking your hand to lead you out of the store.
Besides the baby store, there was a place full of underwear, perfumes, and feminine stuff.
“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”
“Lingerie and womanly stuff store” you nod, getting a closer look. Some pretty sets had you imagining modeling them for your husband.
“And what was her secret?”
“Oh c’mon, baby, let’s keep going.” He said gently pushing you.
“Wait. Don’t you want to fuck me in one of those sets?” Joel blushed and acted like he was debating whether to agree with you or not. But both of you knew the real answer.
“Your silence says it all, Joel.” And with that, you entered the store.
It was completely stocked and seemed like nobody had come in hopes of scavenging something.
“This is so pretty…” you say grabbing a black bra. Joel could only follow you like a lost puppy.
“Joel… pink or purple?” He looked at the two options and pointed at one.
“Pink…”
“Naughty boy…” you said smirking and he rolled his eyes.
“I like this one…” Joel showed you, it was a seen-through tulle nightgown in maroon and lilac tones.
“Then we’re taking it home with us too” You finally start packing all of your favorite ones and you notice there's still some available space in your backpack.
You load your gun before nodding at Joel, letting him know you are ready.
“Where is your bow?” He asked.
“Left it at home…” you had gotten very good using the bow and arrows and with Joel teaching you how to skin animals, you often went on solo hunts. Not that he knew that.
Suddenly both of you grow quiet after hearing something shatter and then crashing nearby.
Joel indicated you to keep quiet while peaking through the entrance of the store.
A clicker passed by and you had to hold a big scream by covering your mouth. Since those things were blind, you were safe for a moment.
“Stay behind me…when I tell you to run… we run, y/n. Understood?” He whispered inches away from you.
“Joel… “ you whispered back when you saw the clicker entering the store. He protectively stood in front of you and pointed at the infected in case of anything. You also gripped the trigger of your weapon.
The disgusting sound of click click click was driving you insane. But you and Joel were so close to the exit that neither of you noticed the frame of a poster on the floor, so when Joel tripped over, the clicker immediately reacted, jumping towards the sound, and ending on top of Joel.
“JOEL!”
One bad aim and you could kill Joel, so you have to act quick and smartly. The clicker moved extremely fast while your husband tried to push him away.
“Run, y/n!” you wouldn’t leave your husband alone. Never…
With zero patience and lots of faith, you shot twice, and to your luck, both bullets went straight to the clicker’s head. The dead body of the creature was lying beside your husband. So you ran to help him.
“Are you okay? No bites, right?” Joel hurried to calm you, leading you outside of the store, finally.
“No bites, baby. I’m okay” You nodded, sighing in relief.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here” you added, hearing the distant sounds of more clickers approaching, probably from the second floor that was actually below where you had been collecting stuff.
-
The way back home is slightly quieter. Joel knows you were still a little taken aback by the incident back at the mall. So as the two of you were still riding your horses, he turned to see you.
He adored his wife so much.
“You were amazin’ back there, baby”
“What?”
“Yeah, the way you perfectly pulled the trigger and killed the clicker. Your hand never shakin’…” you smiled briefly.
“I just wished you were… immune too. It would be a little less stressful” Joel sighed.
“Hey, I’m not immune but I’m perfectly capable of coming back to you. I’ve done this for more than twenty years. And for you and the girls… I’d do it forever”
“Aww, honey. I love you so much!”
He is in love. He can’t recognize the woman you have become. You are stronger, funnier, and more vivid if that was even possible. And he knows you can’t recognize the man he transformed into. A man who treated you with adoration. Who wasn’t afraid of showing how much he loved you.
“You know? You were my savior once but now… you are the reason why I will save myself every time. To come back to you and the girls too…”
“I love you too, y/n. So fucking much, baby”
“I know…” you said cheekily, smiling at him.
It was then that a sudden memory came to you, making you giggle.
“Hey Joel… Want to know what Ellie’s classmates call me?” Joel frowns confused but then nods.
“Sure?…”
“They say I’m a MILF” Joel couldn’t help but laugh hard, on the verge of tears.
“Well, you are, darlin’… But that’s a pleasure I will be the only one to have” you blushed.
“Of course, I would not risk my life at Victoria’s Secret for any other man than you, Joel” he remembered the sets you got and he could feel himself getting hard again.
“Fuck… I miss Cerise and Ellie but I really want to get back to having you in bed with all those sets you borrowed”
“Fine, but you clean the dishes and kitchen today” he nods, smiling cockily at you.
“Sure, now let’s get going, Mom I’d like to fuck…”
“JOEL!” He loved teasing you and seeing you get all flustered.
______________________________________
#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#joel x reader#the last of us x reader
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006. ONE PIECE, PORTGAS D. ACE.
Prompt: Ace’s day just isn’t right unless he pounds you stupid first thing in the morning.
Warnings: smut, unprotected vaginal sex, slight breeding kink, afab!reader, established relationship, biting (only once), praise kink, “baby” as a pet name, servicedom!ace if you squint, dry humping, cream pie.
It’s early, far too early. The heaviness of sleep tugs at you dragging your mind in and out of consciousness. You can see the sun creeping slightly from the horizon but the stars try their best to convince you it’s still time to sleep.
You feel him against you, probably in a similar state of limbo. Warmth emits from him like a soft fire as you snuggle closer, desperately hoping to settle down.
“Morning baby, c’mere,” groggy and hoarse as his voice is, you still find it sexy to hear early morning like this. Ace’s warm hands pull your plush body on top of him like a weighted blanket. He capitalizes off the heat you bring him, letting your knees rest on either side of his hips.
The comforter wraps around the two of you, shielding you from the harshness of the world before the bitter day starts. It’s like he’s missed you since he’s been asleep with the sheer hold he has around your bare back.
You love being chest to chest with him, skin to skin, letting your hearts have a conversation that no one else can hear. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders while you play with long hair at the base of neck, as a reminder you’re there thinking of him even in silence.
He returns the gesture, the pad of his thumb works circles on your lower back, occasionally drawing shapes or spelling “I love you.” Some part of him always seems to find itself touching you.
It’s supposed to start out like this, soft and intimate as he holds you there to his chest. However, the combination of his morning wood and your obscenely warm pussy just hovering over his boxers makes it unbearable. He can’t take it for long, his need for you can’t be satiated by this intimacy alone. He needs more.
The thing about Ace is, he can’t seem to just ask for what he wants, so he bides his time grinding his half hard erection into you. The hand that used to soothe your back begins to push your hips downwards with every upwards rut of his groin.
Once even breaths turn airy in his ear as he rocks into you deliciously slow. His legs rise up the bed as he settles you on top of him, essentially cradling your tired form to fit his toned warm body. “Need you sweet thing, gonna miss you all day,” and it’s true. There isn’t a fallacy in Ace’s words. It crushes him to part from you day after day like a sick dog.
He wishes he could always lay with you and feel your hands in his hair like some kind of hedonistic freak. He can’t stand the physical pain he feels in his chest when your soft skin hasn’t graced his finger tips in a few hours.
Despite his complicated feelings, your lips meet his as an answer. Your wet tongue exploring his in a hot sloppy mess, desire licking at every inch of your body. The hands he loves so much tug at his raven strands in an effort to bring him closer to consume him entirely. Ace was so good to you, so receptive. Low groans spill from his mouth into yours but you swallow them up readily.
“You’ll miss me too mama, right?” The slow draw of his hips across your folds keeps your clit snug against him, dragging against the fabric. The sensation is ecstasy as his possessive lips suck against your neck.
“Ace, stop teasing me. It’s always you baby. Only want you.” Your body moves in time with his, the grip he has on your hip almost makes you feel like you’re melting into one on top of him like this. He’s just so warm it makes you crazy.
That was all he wanted to hear, the confirmation that it’s him you need. Someone somewhere was waiting for him to come back everyday. Your intimacy somehow always makes him that much hornier. He’s convinced he’s sick and depraved the way he could get off on assurance from you alone.
Too impatient to take his boxers off he only pulls them down far enough to fish his fat cock out.
“Just put it in, please,” you couldn’t care less about the burn right now, you’re just hungry for the growing glob of pre oozing from his tip.
Ace couldn’t be happier to oblige you, loving the way he splits you open when you sheath him. You sit up on his chest, letting him line himself up against your opening. He can’t stop from coating his cock in your slick first, rubbing his girth through your folds trying to use his earnings.
If there’s a feeling you wish you could replicate every time you fuck Ace, it would be how unreal his cock feels sliding through your lower lips. It knocks the wind out of you how smoothly he glides in, like he’s always been meant to be there with his tip kissing your cervix.
“So t-tight.. and wet and so fucking warm every time,” he can feel his balls pulsing already, you’re so snug. “You’re killin’ me here baby.”
This position lets you feel every vein that lines Aces cock drag against your gummy walls, your pussy sucking his dick like candy every time he reluctantly drags it out of you. It makes you lose your mind whenever he fucks you like this raw and he knows it, he can feel how creamy his baby gets when you whine about how bad you need him.
Your head is tucked into his shoulder as he makes a mess of your cunt. A mix of him and you currently leaks down his balls with each squelch of his girth stretching you out. He doesn’t mind doing the work, especially with tight cunt like this; the kind that forms a nice white ring around his thick base as he fucks you.
“So good Ace— oh my, oh my god baby,” you leave soft kisses on his face and neck, tasting the salty sweat that’s accumulating at his hairline. His tan face turning red from desperation and exhaustion, but he moans your name from the praise. Letting his head fall back on the pillows as his dick twitches for release deep inside you.
He needs to cum and he needs to cum bad; hot, heavy, and hard inside you. Ace grabs your hips and stuffs you full to the brim, sliding your bodies up the bed as he grabs a mass of your hair in his hand.
“Give it to me,” you beg. With his hand on your waist and another in your hair, he starts to bounce you on and off his dick. Letting your pussy lips keep him inside you as you slide up and down his shaft.
Ace bites into your shoulder as he fucks your pussy with everything he’s got, he loves to feel like your good boy. Pleasing you with everything he has in him. Nothing brings him any greater joy than watching you fall apart on him.
The sound is obscene, skin on skin filling the room as he pounds you raw. His teeth in your neck burn in the best way sending heat to your core. Everything with Ace was hot, the sex, the romance, the intimacy. It lit you on fire.
“Cum with me mama, please baby I can’t without you.” With his thumb pressed to your clit he eventually milks it out of you, sending the rubber band snapping within you as you clamp down on him.
Ace’s brain can’t think when your cunt sucks him in like this, your walls rapidly convulsing and begging him to release. The only answer it can think to give is spewing his hot thick cum in loads deeper in you. He holds your body flush against his, praising everything you do as he comes down from his high.
Your breaths fall into unison again as you lay there, only basking in the presence of each other. Maybe you both can sleep a few more minutes. Right?
#ace#ace smut#portgas d ace smut#one piece smut#ace x reader#portgas d ace x reader#ace x y/n#portgas d ace x y/n#ace x you#ace imagines#ace scenarios#one piece x reader#I really just want him to satisfy my every need#like CARNALLY
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The modder argument is a fallacy.
We've all heard the argument, "a modder did it in a day, why does Mojang take a year?"
Hi, in case you don't know me, I'm a Minecraft modder. I'm the lead developer for the Sweet Berry Collective, a small modding team focused on quality mods.
I've been working on a mod, Wandering Wizardry, for about a year now, and I only have the amount of new content equivalent to 1/3 of an update.
Quality content takes time.
Anyone who does anything creative will agree with me. You need to make the code, the art, the models, all of which takes time.
One of the biggest bottlenecks in anything creative is the flow of ideas. If you have a lot of conflicting ideas you throw together super quickly, they'll all clash with each other, and nothing will feel coherent.
If you instead try to come up with ideas that fit with other parts of the content, you'll quickly run out and get stuck on what to add.
Modders don't need to follow Mojang's standards.
Mojang has a lot of standards on the type of content that's allowed to be in the game. Modders don't need to follow these.
A modder can implement a small feature in 5 minutes disregarding the rest of the game and how it fits in with that.
Mojang has to make sure it works on both Java and Bedrock, make sure it fits with other similar features, make sure it doesn't break progression, and listen to the whole community on that feature.
Mojang can't just buy out mods.
Almost every mod depends on external code that Mojang doesn't have the right to use. Forge, Fabric API, and Quilt Standard Libraries, all are unusable in base Minecraft, as well as the dozens of community maintained libraries for mods.
If Mojang were to buy a mod to implement it in the game, they'd need to partially or fully reimplement it to be compatible with the rest of the codebase.
Mojang does have tendencies of *hiring* modders, but that's different than outright buying mods.
Conclusion
Stop weaponizing us against Mojang. I can speak for almost the whole modding community when I say we don't like it.
Please reblog so more people can see this, and to put an end to the modder argument.
#minecraft#minecraft modding#minecraft mods#moddedminecraft#modded minecraft#mob vote#minecraft mob vote#minecraft live#minecraft live 2023#content creation#programming#java#c++#minecraft bedrock#minecraft community#minecraft modding community#forge#fabric#quilt#curseforge#modrinth
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Okay, so I already wrote a bunch of stuff about how that scene, although it is really sweet, is also kind of a Bad Sign for Simon - how he refuses to learn the Obvious Lesson from the Winterworld adventure (that being the Ice King again is probably a really really bad idea). But I want to talk about it also a little more about what it means for Fionna’s character as well.
Because while sitting around and wallowing in self-loathing is probably bad for Fionna, especially after being told that she shouldn't be allowed to exist, and Simon is right to try and get her out of her funk. It's also still worthwhile for Fionna to have some introspection about the Consequences of Her Actions. Because she and Cake really did not consider them at all at first. They have a sense of morality and an instinct towards heroism, but they also tend to kinda forget the fantastical worlds they visit don’t exist entirely for their fantasy and have kind of a Protagonist-Centered-Morality fallacy.
Most obviously you can see it in the market in Ooo. How Cake, in her excitement, damaged and hurt and even killed
A bunch of innocent marketgoers without even noticing. And then Fionna immediately jumped to Cake’s defense against these ‘weirdos’, who were actually just normal kinda-righteously-angry Oooian citizens.
It’s actually very similar to the whole Winterworld situation. Fionna’s assumption that she’s automatically the hero and protagonist of the story and black-and-white view of the situation and her tendency to kick ass first and ask questions later meant that she just recklessly injured a lot of innocent people.
(It might’ve been worse actually cause at least in Winterworld she was at least manipulated by an evil Wizard)
Fionna and Cake clearly have a great potential for heroism, but they do need to be a bit more considerate of the situation and people around them. And it does make sense considering that from their perspective - they’ve been living a very ordinary life up until now (and Cake was literally an animal. A very clever animal, but still not bound by the same standards of morality as the talking animals in Ooo). Action and adventure and fantasy stuff has been purely the realm of daydream and video games for them - and Fionna literally speaks about it in these terms.
(also, Fionna's Main Character Syndrome was undoubtedly validated when God literally told her that she was created to be the main character of her universe)
So yeah, it takes them some time to really process how to be heroes - they need to grapple with questions that Finn and Jake already kinda dealt with seventeen years ago. And actually a lot of those; how to resolve a situation without necessarily using violence, when does a 'villain' actually deserve sympathy and kindness, the importance of the larger context of any given conflict... their confrontations with Ice King all played a big part in that. It was never just him, but he was still a very major part.
And for Fionna and Cake right now, learning these lessons require some amount of personal introspection. So while it was a sweet attempt at comforting, I dunno if Simon’s little ‘the only problem with that universe is that this Alternative Me was terrible because he didn’t even acknowledge or remember Betty as the love of our life and the light of my entire universe’ thing is actually Good.
I’m not quite sure Simon is the best person to teach Fionna and Cake heroism 101, because he is so focused on the Crown Quest as the thing that brings back Meaning to his life, and because his fatherly instincts just kinda go “Sad Young Person???? MUST GIVE COMFORT!” and also on account of the kidnapping.
I’m sure Fionna is going to become the heroine she dreams about eventually, it’s just going to be a bumpy ride. The best we can hope for is that they accept Simon’s comfort, that she doesn't start believing that she is nothing but an Error for the entire universe like the Scarab claims, but don’t necessarily listen to all of Simon's his words either.
#adventure time#atimers#fionna and cake#fionna & cake#at#at spoilers#fac spoilers#f&c#f&c spoilers#simon petrikov#the winter king#adventure time fionna and cake#adventure time spoilers#adventure time simon#fionna and cake spoilers#fionna and cake series#fionna and cake simon#fionna and cake show#fionna campbell#fionna the human#adventure time fionna#cake the cat#adventure time cake#cake adventure time#simon adventure time#scarab#the scarab#fionna and cake scarab
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KÖNIG WITH BRAT READER PLS PLS PLS
Me myself i am a BIG brat, good luck to him trying to discipline me lmao
König is a nice man, hes sweet and stuff. So i wanna see König lose his patience. I want him to be mad at me. I want him to take out his built up anger. I requested you this because i trust your writing the most.Pls feed me i love ur blog<3
König w/ a Bratty S/O
Warnings: 18+, Nothing too Explicit TBH, Bratty Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, Dominant König, Spanking, Edging, Overstimulation, Restraints, Punishment, etc.
König could handle your incessant whining, your moaning and your complaining.
At most, he usually found it endearing, perhaps even adorable when he looked past the vague hostility and saw insecurity buried within, hiding, trembling.
But then you had to go for the throat – hit him where it really hurt.
You’d had the gall to suggest that he couldn’t satisfy you – that you’d go and search for someone who could, someone who “can do it with their hands tied behind their back.”
And König snapped.
You didn’t notice it at first; the shift in the atmosphere was so sudden, the snap of a harp string – a heartstring.
And you didn’t notice König rising, his shadow eclipsing your form as you faced away, arms crossed, spouting fallacies about your neighbours who you wagered were “ten times better” in bed than him.
It was only when his chest was to your back, his bulge between your thighs, that you snapped out of your beration.
The air was thick now, begging to be sliced, dissected, with something – anything – to end its own existence.
Aside from the rising volume of your battering heart and König’s restrained, bullish breathing, it was silent. A carbon monoxide death in all but feeling. This was silent, this was invisible. And it was deadly.
No-one was around to help you; that much you gathered from the lack of voices or footsteps from your neighbours, no cars passing by on the street, no chatter except for that dying in your mind.
König’s anger bulged from his very soul. And with his face hidden behind you, you could only imagine the look of thunder that rolled across it.
König clapped a large, bearish, calloused hand upon your shoulder, and squeezed. Tighter and tighter with each passing second, he became. The thought that he could break your collarbone this way crossed your mind.
Wincing, you tried to turn around, to placate König.
He growled, gripped you by both shoulders now, and kept you facing forwards, pushing you.
“Go on, Darling,” he hissed. It was not a request. “Keep going.”
You were unsure as to whether he meant to keep goading or keep walking, but you weren’t taking any chances.
König marched you to the bedroom, his wall of a body making escape an impossibility.
This was going to be a long night.
NSFW:
König’s veil stays on during punishment.
It’s his way of letting you know that your loving boyfriend is gone; no human soul exists in this vessel anymore.
Ties you to the bedposts. He’s not giving you a moment of reprieve, nor a chance to defend yourself.
Spanks you with a thick belt he keeps hidden away in the wardrobe, which he bought specifically in anticipation for your insufferable behaviour.
Makes you tell him you love him as he’s beating you.
Gives him a sense of power that he can force your love in some way, whether you love him or not (you do; but for the sake of this segment, you usually pretend you don’t. König knows you’re lying, though).
He’ll see your backside red and inflamed before he lets up, and even then it’s because he’s moving on to the next phase of your punishment.
Edges you. Constantly.
And König has the restraint to keep withdrawing whenever he feels you’re close.
He doesn’t want you feeling even a second’s worth of relief. Not after the way you spoke to him.
And, eventually, after hours of edging, he’ll finally let you finish.
But don’t be mistaken; this isn’t the end.
There’s a dark glint in his eye as you’re left panting, sweating, almost crying.
“Oh, Darling,” he says, brushing a sodden lock of hair from your forehead. Faux reassurance. “We’re not done yet.”
Overstimulation Central.
You’ll be absolutely weeping as König slams into you, your already sensitive body forced to bear the pounding shocks he sends through you, even when you plead with him to stop.
“Can’t satisfy you, can I?” König says, mockingly. “Then tell me who’s filling you right now – tell me who you belong to.”
“You, König! You, you – only you!”
Your throat will have run raw with how you scream König’s name, his body caging yours beneath it.
It’s his way of telling you you’re his.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
#konig x reader#konig smut#konig x y/n#konig x you#konig x yn#könig x reader#könig smut#konig headcanons#mw2 x reader#mw2 smut#mw2 fanfic#cod mw2 fanfic#konig mw2#cod konig
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" just friends. "
tw ; smut , smut and more smut.
situationship , rough sex.
————————————————————————
you were friends , until he had you bent over some random dorm room sink. you were friends until he fucked you. you were friends. just friends. nothing more — nothing less.
passing glances , agony fills your system each time he pretended to not know you. fallacious hope after every night he ravaged you. you'd be lying in his dorm room. he's sat on his windowsill , cigarette in mouth as he ignores you . . waiting for you to just leave.
you'd hesitate , eyes wandering around his crowded messy room — taking a moment to breathe. " round two or are you leaving ? " he'd ask coldly , not even turning around to face you. he already knew the answer , you always stayed.
he'd only talk to you in private , and even then the conversation barely lasted — the only thing it seemed that the two of you had in common was love for the art of fucking. it had been a common dance between you two , varying from time to time.
sometimes , he'd be sweet. you'd almost think he's making love to you , but he's just doing this to make you stay. other times , most times , he'd fuck you so hard to where you could barely move afterwards.
" yeah , you like my cock ? say it. " he'd spit on your face , large hands grasping at your throat just right. you gargled out something , but that wasn't good enough. " say it. " he would slap the soft flesh of your ass.
once , only once , he papered you. on your birthday of all things. it was the only time that you ever felt like he gave a fuck about you. he laid on near the edge of your bed , mouth covering your soft sensitive bud. his face already soaking wet and practically dripping onto the sheets as he edged you closer and closer to your release.
that was a good day , a long time ago however. you still think about it.
maybe you aren't friends , maybe this is more than that , maybe it isn't. you saw him take orher girls into a party bathroom or his dorm , it bothered you. and it bothered him because it wasn't you.
" such a fucking whore for me. " face squished into the mirror , farleigh's hands cupped your cheek - his thumb in your mouth. he was driving himself so deep into you . . all you could do was sit there and take it.
" need a cig ? "
he asked , eyes stare over at your semi - covered figure. this was the first time he'd ever said anything different. the first time he actually offered something. " sure. " you came over , joining him on his windowsill after a long night of intense fucking.
you expected something good , something worth coming over for. you lit the cigarette , taking a long drag before he spoke.
" we should stop. " cold , your heart stung. " why ? " he should have at least some integrity . . he should tell you. but instead , he stayed silent.
you walked away that night , tears streaming down your face pathetically.
so much for friends.
#saltburn#farleigh start#smut#i heart saltburn#i cannot get him out of my head#fanfic#oops i did it again#i need to like not write so much for him
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first rule of holes: keep digging
poem of the end, marina tsvetaeva / have you been long enough at the table, leslie sainz / @inneskeeper / the charismatic church asks me how i have sinned, janelle tan / blud, rachel mckibbens / leslie feinberg / @aforlorngazeintoyesterday / nonbeliever, lucy dacus / the cow, ariana reines / the wee free men, terry pratchett
[Image Description: Ten images of text on white backgrounds.
1: “Either love is / -A shrine? / or else a scar.” Or else a scar is highlighted in a pale yellow colour.
2: “can you stomach it? / Anyway, you eat it. You eat it anyway.”
3: “ Oh sunk cost fallacy, we’re really in it now. We are in fact so really in it that if we quit now then everything we did would have all been for nothing and so we have to keep going in”
4: “let me fail myself. let me call / love an unanswered prayer. let me be / the very tip of the knife / that touches grace.”
5: “Obedience in the wrong house is a kind of plague,
survivor’s guilt a slight of hand. No outrunning / your blood’s calamity, so you gather your teeth
& dig your trenches, tell your stories but never come clean.”
6: “Did I survive? I guess I did. But only because I knew I might get home to you.” The whole line is written in italics.
7: “doomed by the narrative but not to death. doomed to survive. doomed to stay alive inside the story. doomed to never escape the narrative, not even through death. you are allowed no exit. there is no way out for you and never was. you couldn’t die if you wanted to. the narrative has a hold on you and it won’t let go. death is too sweet a doom for you. the story has something much worse in mind. there is no way out.”
8: “You deal an unspoken debt / No kindness without wanting something back / What do I owe you? What did I forget? / Are we even after all of that?”
9: “There is no sacrifice. You have got to want to live. You have got to force yourself to want to.”
10: “All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany’s Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine!
I have a duty!” End ID.]
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I just wanted to say your takes on age and shifting have been really helping me. I didn't have the opportunity to enjoy my teenage years and I feel like everything is falling apart in my adult life, so I really want to age myself down and experience life as a teen again. However, tiktok constantly made me feel like a creep and I was even starting to doubt myself and my motivations, which is crazy. So thank you for standing your ground and having our back lol and stay away from shiftok yall
AS.YOU.FUCKING.SHOULD.
Girl, keeping your distance from ShiftTok? Absolutely the right call. That place is less of a community and more of a cult with a superiority complex, stuffed with self-appointed “moral guardians” who’d rather police everyone’s shifting practices than actually understand a damn thing about shifting itself 💅. They’re too busy gatekeeping, throwing their tired opinions around, and stirring up drama to realize just how hypocritical they look. Chile, the irony is thick enough to choke on, and trust, we see it 👀.
And don’t even get me started on the anti-age-change crew. These people couldn’t argue their way out of a paper bag without leaning on the same three tired-as-hell logical fallacies, dragging them out every time to keep shifters in check without an ounce of actual understanding or empathy.
Ad Hominem – This is anti-age changers’ go-to move when they’re out of actual arguments. They skip right over any real discussion and dive into calling people “pedo” or “creep” just to shut them up. Rather than taking the time to understand why someone might genuinely want to experience being younger again, they grab for the ugliest insults they can think of and throw them like confetti 🎉… only it’s confetti made of trash 💀. Example: A shifter explains, “I age down in my Desired Reality because I had a tough youth and want to relive a better version of it. Plus, I want to experience a healthy, innocent romance from my teenage years.” But instead of even thinking about the idea that there might be something healing and meaningful in that, here comes an anti-age changer with: “If you want to age down to date, you’re a predator—plain and simple.” Here’s the kicker: these critics don’t care about the reasons. They’ll weaponize shame to make shifters look like villains, ignoring the fact that not everyone who age-shifts and dates does it for predatory reasons. Many want to experience that sweet, teenage love they didn’t get in this reality, to relive the simpler emotions of that time without adult complications. But the anti’s? They’d rather throw accusations than try to understand even a sliver of the truth. They’re using the “pedo” card because they know it’ll silence some people, and honey, it’s a sad attempt at control through fear 🙄.
Straw Man Fallacy – Here’s where things get especially messy 🥴. Instead of listening to what you’re actually saying, they twist it into something completely off-base, creating a fake argument to attack. They don’t want to engage with your actual reasons; they’d rather paint you as something you’re not so they can feel good about their so-called “moral high ground.” 🙄Example: Imagine a shifter saying, “I age down because I missed out on a carefree youth and want to date someone my age in that reality. I want to experience young love in a non-sexual, simple way.” The anti immediately twists this into, “Oh, so you’re saying you’re an adult wanting to act like a teenager to date kids? That’s sick.” See the problem? They’re creating a whole new argument based on something you never said. This shifter just wants a clean, innocent experience of being young again, complete with those little flutters and first dates that only make sense at that age. Some shifters may even explore young relationships with some intimacy, but it’s coming from a place of reliving a time they missed—not about attraction to minors or anything predatory. These critics twist the intention, making it sound like a fetish when it’s about pure curiosity, nostalgia, or healing. They’ve crafted their own horror story and are trying to pin it on you 👑, and honestly? It’s lazy, transparent, and completely off the mark.
Hasty Generalization – This is when anti-age changers pull out the big, sloppy brush and slap the same, tired accusation onto every age-changing shifter. Because they’ve heard one example of someone age-shifting for sketchy reasons, they assume everyone who does it must have some secret, shady agenda. Girl, the logic isn’t even there 🤦♀️.Example: Anti-age changers will say, “Oh, I heard about this one person who aged down to act out some weird fantasy, so clearly all shifters who age down to date are predators.”This is their way of weaponizing a single, extreme case to invalidate every other shifter’s unique, personal reasons. There are countless reasons people age down and engage in romance, and most have nothing to do with predatory behavior. Imagine someone who wants to experience a first crush all over again, or who never got a chance to date as a teen and just wants that innocent thrill of hand-holding and kissing at a school dance 🕺💃. Some might even explore sexual intimacy because, for them, it’s about curiosity and filling in experiences they missed—not some twisted attraction.Let’s get real: most age-changing shifters just want to feel what it’s like to be young again, to make memories that heal, to have those butterflies and firsts they missed out on. The antis are so obsessed with scandalizing that they can’t imagine a reality where someone wants to age down without any creepy motives. This broad-strokes accusation is not only unfair; it’s lazy as hell. It paints every age-changing shifter with the same brush, and it does nothing but create stigma and misinformation. Like… maybe sit down and breathe for a second instead of trying to stir up a scandal? 😒
Here’s the reality: these fallacies are tools they use to twist, shame, and silence. They’re not here to have a real conversation about why someone might age-shift or date in that reality, or to understand that those desires can come from totally normal, even therapeutic places. They’re here to make it sound twisted, full stop.
The next time they pull out these tired arguments, just remember: they’re not about facts, they’re about control. They use moral panic as a blunt weapon, hoping people won’t look closer and see right through their paper-thin accusations. Keep doing you, stay fierce 🔥, and don’t let their fallacies dull your shine.
#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting#shifting community#desired reality#shifters#shifting realities#reality shifter#reality shift#shifting antis dni#shifter#shifting blog#quantum jumping#shift#shifting reality#shifting motivation#shifitng#shifting stories#shiftinconsciousness
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Close Enough
Summary: When you'd met the Shaws at the morgue the day before, you thought that had been the end of it and you wouldn't need to see one Shaw brother in particular again. Little did you know that Colter was about to once again ask for your help and not only would you be forced to see Russell again but things were about to change drastically for the both of you.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x Female!FBI Special Agent!Reader
A/N: Sequel to So Close. I wanted to follow up and reveal what happened between Russell and the reader in the past but as I was writing it, this idea popped into my head in addition to that and I just had to see where it went. This was the end result lol. Hope it's okay.
Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I still have not seen Tracker (besides 1x12) because I just haven't had the time for a proper binge yet so if I got some things wrong about Colter and his experience in the show, I apologize.
A little disclaimer: I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Basically, I made shit up.
Songs I listened to while writing: Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye; Easy Loving by Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty; Sweet Dreams by Patsy Cline; Sounds of Someday by Radio Company
Warnings: sanctioned assassination; death; gun violence; graphic description of killing; violence/blood mention; mention of dead bodies; arson; implied sex; a trace amount of smut(ish?); language
Word Count: 16K+
Russell Taglist: @deangirl96 (I hope you don't mind me tagging you in this one; this is going to lead into the series that I mentioned on "So Close"); @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel
Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
You can also read on AO3
Your phone started to buzz and you glanced at the screen, rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh before picking up. That wasn’t the normal reaction you would have to seeing Colter’s name pop up on your phone but ever since that mess back at the morgue yesterday, you had been hoping he wouldn’t contact you again. At least not until his brother went back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of. But now it looked like that had been a fool’s hope, on both counts.
“You what?” You hissed.
“We’re about to head to this home in the Blue Ridge Mountains and go in to get Doug,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry, an incredible amount of stupid just sounded in my ear. Can you repeat that?”
“Reenie got me the location and it’s solid intel.” He lowered his voice. “Look, I thought we should get law enforcement involved, alright? But there’s a…valid reason why Russ doesn’t want to call them that I can’t get into right now.”
“Whoops, more stupid. One more time?”
Colter groaned into the phone. “Come on, Y/N.”
“I’m serious, Colter. What the hell are either of you think—wait, scratch that. What the hell are you thinking? Going into a dangerous location like that without any backup? If Carlos Solano found your missing man in a safehouse, do you think he won’t be armed to the teeth? That he won’t have guards patrolling the compound that you’re walking right into? That he won’t see something like this coming? You guys are walking right into a shitstorm.” Christ, you loved the guy like a long-lost brother that you sometimes kept in touch with but if he were in front of you right now, you would’ve delivered one good smack to the back of his head to get him thinking straight. Colter may know his way around a gun, but he wasn’t someone who had formal training or combat experience like Russell did. He didn’t even have your training and you wouldn’t be going in there kamikaze-style like they were.
“That’s why I’m calling you and asking you to meet us there. I’m not exactly calling in law enforcement but we’ll have one more person to watch our backs and help us search for Doug. And who better than a special agent with the FBI?”
You sat back in your chair, shaking your head but thinking it over. This was beyond stupid and you shouldn’t be encouraging it. Russell’s involvement in this idiot plan didn’t surprise you; Colter’s did. He knew better. But you also knew that if he thought he had a chance to get the missing guy back home safely, he was going to take it, no matter the personal risk. If you didn’t go like he asked and anything happened to him or Russell, you’d never forgive yourself.
“Please?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger, your decision made. “Send me the location and I’ll leave now to meet you.”
“Thank you.” You could hear the genuine gratitude in his tone. “I promise I’ll explain everything.”
“You better,” you nearly growled before disconnecting the call. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to tell you but for his sake, you hoped it wasn’t anything close to what you were thinking. But why else would Russell not want to call law enforcement for help in rescuing his friend who had been taken hostage by a foreign criminal? God, you hoped you were wrong.
You let out another loud sigh and before you could stand, your phone started ringing again. When you glanced at the screen, instead of a name, you saw “Blocked”. Not good.
You swiped green, holding it to your ear. “Y/L/N.”
“We have a problem,” said the voice on the other end, one you knew all too well, and it didn't sound happy. Shit.
You watched as Colter’s truck pulled up alongside your car. Colter got out and noticed you leaning against your trunk, arms crossed and a scowl in place. Russell came around from the other side.
“Either of you boys see two suicidal idiots around here? Oh, wait.”
Russell’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t my idea to call you.” He slid a glare over to his brother.
“You’re lucky he did,” you snapped. “And since I’m here,” You got to your feet and turned to open your trunk, revealing a smorgasbord of gear and weapons. “We’re going to be doing this my way.” You held out a bulletproof vest to Colter first and he immediately started to strap it on. You held one out to Russell but he shook his head and didn’t take it. You glanced over to find he had already put his own on while you’d been grabbing one for his brother.
“Okay, look,” Russell started, his eyes scanning your makeshift armory and setting your teeth on edge. “This isn’t some FBI raid of some drug gang. This guy, Carlos Solano, he’s the real deal. He’s as dangerous as they come.”
You could feel your irritation turning into anger at the suggestion that you didn’t know how serious this was, and from him of all people. “And what am I? Some part-time mall security guard? A receptionist at the Academy? I’ve dealt with cartels before and they’re as dangerous as they come, too. So take that mansplaining and shove it right up where the sun doesn't shine.”
Russell took a step closer and laid a hand on your shoulder, his eyes burning into you. “Be pissed at me all you want but I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“But you’re okay with your brother getting hurt?” You briefly glanced in Colter’s direction. The younger man was watching you two carefully as he adjusted his vest one last time, wisely choosing to stay out of this one.
Russell’s jaw clenched and he dropped his hand. “I’ve got him.”
You snorted and grabbed a gun, loading it quickly. “And I’ve got both of you. Now, we’ve got a bit of a hike so let’s cut the chit chat and get this over with, shall we?” You motioned for Colter to turn around and you inserted an extra handgun into the back of his belt. “We stick together as a unit. You hear me? No wandering off alone.”
Colter faced you again. “Yes, Mom,” he teased.
You swatted at his shoulder before checking the fit of his vest, nodding in approval.
“I have done this before, you know.”
You knew that already. You’d been there with him a couple of times for such instances. “Good for you,” you quipped. “But for kicks, how about you just humor me?”
He rolled his eyes and you smirked, turning to slam the trunk shut. You glanced up to find Russell watching you, his jaw still tight but his eyes containing a familiar light that you hadn’t seen in a while. “You good?”
“Yep.” And just like that, the light hollowed out, replaced by something far colder yet familiar, but not because you’d seen it in his gaze. You’d seen it often enough in your own when looking into the mirror.
Pushing that thought away and shifting focus, you began to lead the way into the trees. “Alright, let’s do this and get Doug home in time for breakfast.” Colter flanked you on your right while Russell came up on your left.
“Let’s rock and roll,” he agreed.
It hadn’t been as bad as you’d been expecting, even after you’d received the intel Colter had referred to on the phone. One guard and three henchmen. You were annoyed and almost insulted that they had presented so little a challenge considering Carlos Solano was supposed to be this big bad criminal. But when you glanced over and saw Colter looking over Russell’s bloody jacket sleeve, you regretted the thought and gratitude immediately filled you that things hadn’t been worse. Russell had taken a bullet to the arm and thankfully, it had passed right through.
Before you could shoot the bastard that shot him, Colter and Russell were on it. You watched in awe as the brothers moved as a single unit, almost as if they hadn’t been strained or missed a beat over the years. You supposed you should be happy that they were working together rather than still arguing over shit from a lifetime ago that had torn their family apart. For Colter’s sake at least.
Just then, you heard what sounded like a small plane outside. You hurried to a window and glanced outside, seeing a rapidly descending charter plane aiming for the tiny landing strip in the back of the property. Right on time.
You let the curtain fall and looked back at the guys. “Time to go.”
Doug’s face was ashen while Colter and Russell exchanged glances. Immediately, Russell picked up his gun and got ready to leave the room.
You rushed to stop him. “There will be none of that!”
“You guys get Doug back to the truck. I’ll handle this.”
You practically jogged around him, planting yourself in his path. “Not happening.”
He glared down at you. “Y/N, I need to close this up. Move.”
You scowled right back. “You’ve been shot.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I have to finish this.”
You refused to budge. “You are not finishing anything. You’re getting the hell out of here, that’s what you’re doing.”
“Y/N—”
“Guys, not the time,” Colter interceded. “He’s getting off that plane any second now, so what’s the plan?”
“She’s right, man,” Doug added, making both of your gazes snap over at him. “We really need to go.”
Voices suddenly sounded outside and you all glanced towards the window.
“Shit,” you muttered, quickly checking the chamber on your gun. As you were about to head out of the room, a hand grasped gently under your chin and forced your eyes to meet Russell’s. You could see the pleading there but also a stone-cold resignation. “Go with Colter and Doug,” he urged, giving you a brief but strained smile. “I need you to go.” You felt the rough skin of his thumb on your cheek as he moved it tenderly back and forth.
You knew what he was really telling you, what he planned to do, but hell if you weren’t more infuriated with him. You were so sick of the self-sacrificial bullshit. Hadn’t it cost you enough? Cost you both?
You pulled away from him, giving him a glare. “I don’t think you understand,” you said in a tone so cold you were pretty sure you could give the winds in Antarctica a run for their money. “I’m taking Solano in and I am not leaving until I have my suspect alive and in custody.” Russell looked pissed but you couldn’t care less. Better than him being dead in the next two minutes.
You turned to face Colter and Doug so they also got the message. “This case is under Federal jurisdiction now.” Colter glanced between you and his brother who you turned back to face. “I’m bringing him in. Got it?”
Russell went to say something but didn’t get the chance. The sounds of gunfire erupted right outside the room and you all had to duck for cover.
You secured your handcuffs around Carlos Solano’s wrists that had been forced behind his back once you shoved him into the chair in the room, purposely tightening the metal bracelets past the point of comfort. The man reacted, cursing you out as you smirked up at him.
Getting to your feet, you focused on the Shaws and Doug. Russell watched you with a glare while Colter waited for you to speak. Doug looked downright terrified. They had helped you to take down Solano’s men who had flown with him — all three of them. Russell aimed for Solano but at the last second, you got in his way and tackled the criminal to the ground. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy with you. Oh well. The feeling was mutual.
Colter placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, so how are we getting him back to the truck? Are we just going to drag him through the woods and hope we don’t come across anybody else he might have coming here? How are we going to work this?”
You slipped your gun back into your holster. “He doesn’t have anyone else coming here and the plan is that you three are going to head back to the truck and get out of here. I’m going to wait for a pickup,” You gestured towards the window with your thumb where the landing strip could be seen. “They’re nearby, waiting for my call, and they won’t take long to get here.” You shook your phone in your hand, indicating you were going to be using it.
Russell glanced around, as if expecting Agents to start popping up out of the woodworks at any second, before his eyes settled back on you. “So you called this in after all?”
You shrugged. “You were going into a fully armed compound to rescue a hostage, a two-man team against a crime lord on the FBI’s Most Wanted list? Yeah, of course, I did.”
He shook his head, chuckling and muttering a curse under his breath. “Of course you did,” he echoed, shooting a look over at his brother.
Colter’s gaze flickered back to you. “We’ll wait with you until they get here.”
You offered up a small smile. “I appreciate it but not necessary. I’ve got this until they get here and I do the handover.”
“But—”
“Look, you should get Doug out of here.” You inclined your head in the direction of the man who was staring dazedly at the floor. “You need to get him checked out and your brother should get his arm looked at.”
“I’m fine,” Russell interjected.
You ignored him. “I’ll be alright, Colter. Believe it or not, you tend to get experience with this kind of thing once or twice before becoming a Special Agent.” You meant it as a light-hearted reassurance but you could tell that both Shaw brothers were going to be a hard sell. At least Colter’s reasoning was up front and above board.
“I’m sure but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone. Not with him.” Colter gestured towards Solano who spit in his direction.
“I won’t be for long. But you guys need to get out of here. The Bureau can’t know you were involved in this.” You shot him a meaningful look. “For multiple reasons.”
The younger man looked as if he was going to protest again when you held up a hand. “Colter. You may not like it but you need to do as I’m telling you. If the Bureau finds any of you here…” You could tell that he didn’t care so much about himself but you let your eyes briefly flick in Russell’s direction, who was busy glaring at the man you had bound to the chair. You saw Colter’s expression immediately change and you knew you had succeeded in convincing him to vacate the area as soon as possible.
He nodded his head in assent. “Okay.” He laid a hand on Doug’s shoulder, prompting the man to look up at him, and urged him to start moving to the door.
“Okay? What do you mean okay?” Russell huffed.
Colter held up a hand. “Russell—”
“No.” Russell turned a glare on you. “Not okay. He’s a loose end that needs tying up. He knows who we are now, he came after Doug, and the FBI isn’t going to do shit with him.” You narrowed your eyes in a glare but he continued. “That’s not an insult. It’s the truth and you know it. They’re going to what? Get him to talk, to roll over on someone else he has connections to who’s higher up their food chain, and he gets off scot free? No, not happening on my watch.”
He took a step forward and so did you, in front of Solano. You drew your gun but held it loosely across your waist, your finger on the trigger, ready and waiting should you need it. Russell stopped cold, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the weapon in your hand. Colter and Doug were frozen, watching the scene unfold.
“I told you,” you said in the most deadly serious tone you could muster. “I’m taking him in, alive. If you have a problem with that, well…” You flipped the safety on the gun off. “You’ll have to go through me. And I promise you, my aim is a hell of a lot more accurate at close range than it’s ever been.”
Russell didn’t blink, he just kept scowling at you.
“Russ?” Colter called.
“Don’t make me kill you in front of him, Russell,” you murmured so only the two of you would hear. You were serious as a heart attack. No matter how you had felt about him once upon a time, this was important enough for you to make good on your threat if you needed to.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would and it will be justified by the higher ups as protection of a high-valued target before your body goes cold.” You hated saying the words but it was nothing but the truth that you spoke. You hoped he heard the message underneath your words: walk away, this isn’t worth dying over. “And he’ll be further traumatized,” you inclined your head in Colter’s direction. “Losing his brother right in front of him, just like he lost his dad.” You knew that was a severely low blow but he also needed to hear you.
As expected, Russell’s jaw clenched and you saw a twitch in the good arm he had, the one that was holding his gun. “Don’t be stupid and do that to him,” you warned. “Walk away.”
That cold look was back in his eyes again. You mentally prepared yourself for what was about to go down. You had hoped he wouldn’t force your hand but then again, Russell Shaw had always been the epitome of stubborn, usually to his own detriment…and yours.
“Russell?” Colter tried again.
“Russ, come on, man. Let it be for now,” Doug added in, trying to help. “And let’s regroup.”
This time, Russell appeared to hear them both, his gaze breaking from yours momentarily, flickering over Solano behind you, who was laughing and smirking in the former’s direction, clearly enjoying the standoff over him.
Russell’s eyes met yours again but this time, there was nothing familiar about the green you used to stare into when he’d sway with you on the dance floor to a slow song playing overhead or when you’d both wear matching sated grins and laugh, a pleasant exhaustion overtaking you as he pulled you into his arms in a motel bed. It was almost like staring into a dark void and you couldn’t help but wonder how often that void showed up during war or if the war created it — the old chicken or the egg question. Either way, you knew you’d succeeded in convincing him to leave, but you’d also have to watch yourself. There was no warmth left in those jade-colored orbs when they focused on you. You’d done your work well; you’d crossed a line that you could never go back from.
“Alright,” he capitulated, loud enough that the two men near the doorway heard him. He relaxed his arm and slipped his gun into a pocket in his vest. His face lightened a little and a strained smile worked its way across his face. He glanced back at his brother. “She’s right. We should get Doug out of here.” He turned back to face you, his smile fading. “She’s got this.” He then glanced in Solano’s direction, smirking right back. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, giving him a finger gun and winking, before his expression became stone once more and he walked away, glaring at you as he did.
You lifted your chin, not reacting in the slightest, until Solano shouted out, “You’ll be seeing me? No, puta, I’ll be seeing you. You’ll never see it coming, you hear me? You’ll never see it co—” You spun a few degrees and pistol-whipped him, causing the jackass to cry out in pain before you turned back to face Doug and the two most important men in your life. “Get going,” you growled out, lifting your phone with your other hand as a subtle threat.
Colter gave you a nod, the concern still there in his dark brown gaze as he led Doug out the door. Russell’s eyes never left you, even when he walked out the door a moment later, following his little brother’s lead. You never looked away even when he was past the threshold.
You ignored Solano’s yelling threats and kept your eyes on the spot you had last seen the Shaws disappear through a few minutes longer than needed, tense and ready in case Russell decided to double back. Though you highly doubted he’d come at you from the same angle. A part of you was making sure you stayed prepared in case there was an ambush, yes, but another part of you knew your gaze was lingering on the spot because you knew things had now drastically changed between you and Russell forever. He would never forgive your threats and you would never forgive yourself for having to make them. Though that remorse was more related to Colter than his brother. Regardless, when it came to the Shaws now, you were fucked. Not even Dory would want to hear from you, not that she had all that much before, but now it was definitely a no go. And that saddened you tremendously.
Hearing more of Solano’s threats, you recentered your focus on the task at hand and prepared to wait, giving him one more pistol whip for good measure, before you settled in and kept both eyes and ears open for any possible ambush that might come your way before you could finish up here.
You leaned against the workstation next to the chair, waiting, gun still in hand and your eyes focused on it. You had waited a certain amount of time to allow the boys to get out of the area.
“The soldado was right, you know. They’re not going to hold me,” Solano bragged.
You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance. He had been talking ever since you were left alone with him. He had offered you money to let him go, offered you riches and power that you knew for a fact he had no business offering. He even had the nerve to propose making you one of his new lieutenants, citing your fighting skills and gun handling that he’d briefly witnessed. He knew you would be able to protect him because you had from the asesinos who had killed his brother. He then changed tactics, threatening you, your loved ones, the men who just left…now, he was boasting about how he would walk free and whatever charges were thrown at him wouldn’t stick. You just wished he would shut the hell up already. Needless to say, it had been a long twenty minutes. You now understood why his brother had been the businessman and he was only the muscle willing to do the dirty work. His bargaining skills were for shit, not that it mattered in the scheme of things. No deals were being made today.
“I offer them a little bit of money and they’ll just make the case go away. Just like that.”
You checked your watch. Twenty two minutes now. That was good enough. You slowly got to your feet and moved past him to look out the window. You had purposely moved his chair out of the sight of the glass, in case Russell got any ideas.
“That’s how it works here in America. Everybody knows that. If the criminals have money and power, they don’t stay in jail.”
You ignored him, glancing around to see if there was any movement outside. You didn’t see any.
“They won’t keep me locked up. They weren’t able to in my home country. What makes you think they’ll be able to here? Where corruption is ripe and anyone can be bought? And then I’ll be coming for you and for your friends. You will wish for death long before I am through with you.”
You made your way to another window, lifting the curtain and looking around. Still nothing.
“There’s no point in bringing me to jail. It will never hold me.”
You lowered the curtain and squared your shoulders, turning to face his direction. You focused on him, staring right into his eyes. “You know, I think you’re right.”
Solano seemed pleasantly surprised for a moment, thinking you were finally stupid enough to take one of his offers, before his eyes narrowed with realization. “No, wait—”
You quickly lifted your gun and squeezed off a round. His head snapped back from the force and the space behind him was spattered with red among other things. One glance confirmed your aim had been accurate; he was dead. Right through the eye. What you’d said to Russell earlier hadn’t been an exaggeration; you were much more accurate at close range than you’d ever been.
You slipped a pair of gloves on that you pulled from your pants pocket and immediately started unzipping the small compartments on the side of your vest where you usually kept extra ammo in a raid, pulling out small white bottles that weren’t sporting any labels. You began to squirt the liquid from inside them all around the room, dousing Solano’s body with a healthy amount.
You continued into the house, having quite a few bottles of lighter fluid to empty out in specific areas that would help achieve your goal. Arson wasn’t your preferred route but it did get rid of pesky little things like hair and DNA, and what it didn’t, it contaminated which would make it harder for not only law enforcement but the justice system to work with. Though you weren’t too worried about either looking at this particular house fire too closely.
You didn’t bother collecting any bullet casings, knowing that your gun and the ones you’d given Colter to use would be untraceable even if they somehow managed to get a hold of any of the weapons (which they wouldn’t). And Russell’s gun…you figured he had that handled. The only thing you did collect were your handcuffs.
You also didn’t bother staging anything for the scene. There was already enough evidence that pointed to the theory that Solano’s own men had turned on him and a gunfight ensued, resulting in the multiple dead bodies. While an arson specialist would most likely be able to tell that an accelerant had been used, there was no way for them to confirm just who had been present for this battle and who had gotten away. Satellite imagery would be shoddy at best due to the foliage cover (and eventual smoke) but still, you planned to set the fire and make your getaway out the back, crossing over the landing strip so if they went back to look for any heat signatures after the fire started, it would be one person leaving the scene alive, the person they would assume had started the blaze. There were no nearby neighbors to immediately call first responders but that didn’t mean smoke wouldn’t be seen from the sky from miles away or that a fiery orange blaze in the distance wouldn’t be noticed by residents of another vacation home or cars traveling the backroads in the area. Since you planned to go into the deep woods and take the long roundabout route back to your car, you weren’t too worried about your path being followed.
Once you had completed all of your tasks, you used the fireplace to help, moving the grate out of the way, starting a fire, and then knocking a fiery log onto the wooden flooring. You used a lighter to set flammable materials that you could find to add to the flames. Only when the room was nearly engulfed did you finally slip a beanie from your pocket, cover your head fully, and make your way out of the house. Once at the landing strip, you ducked under the plane, making sure you couldn’t be seen from above.
You watched as the flames consumed the house. Once the smoke was sufficient, flames were ragings out of the windows, and the sound of breaking glass could be heard, you knew it was time for you to vacate the vicinity before the sirens started up. It was fortunate that most people were asleep at this hour but the sun was due to come up not too long from now and you had a long trek ahead of you, so you needed to get moving.
You kept your head down and made your way into the woods surrounding the property line.
The sun was breaching the horizon and quickly warming the sky by the time you made it back to your car. You were relieved that Colter’s truck was gone and you needed to quickly make tracks as well. Sirens had started up an hour ago and you needed to get the hell out of Dodge before the cops were all over these roads. You tossed your weapons and vest into the trunk and got in the car. You slipped your beanie off your head, tossing it onto the seat next to you, and started the engine.
Just as you had expected, cops were everywhere but thankfully, you had timed it just right and gotten out before they could block all of the mountain roads. Once you were back in town a few hours later and a certain distance away, you pulled a phone out of your glove compartment you kept there for emergencies and turned it on. You pressed a button and it immediately dialed the number programmed — the only number you had saved on this device.
It rang once before the same voice from yesterday picked up. “Is it done?”
“We’re clear,” you confirmed. “It’s been handled.”
“Shaw?”
Your jaw clenched. You knew that despite how you and Russell had left things earlier, you would do whatever it took to keep him breathing. “He’s a soldier. He follows orders.”
“He wasn’t so willing to follow orders in this situation.”
“You know what they’re taught. Leave no man behind. He got his man so he’ll be fine. Things can go back to how they were. He’s not going to be an issue and he’s clean, just like you wanted.”
And then you were asked the one question you didn’t want to hear. “And the brother? What’s your assessment?”
The knuckles of your free hand gripped your steering wheel so tightly that you could see how white your skin turned from the pressure. “Non-issue. He has no interest in you.”
“He seemed interested yesterday.”
You forced yourself to remain calm and nonchalant. “He’s paid to be nosy when someone goes missing so he can get them found. He found who he was looking for, he was able to keep the promise to the guy’s wife — it’s over for him. The case is closed, it’s as simple as that for him. He’s no threat.”
You waited to hear a response, holding your breath and your hand gripping the wheel even tighter, your body tensed. This would be what decided your fate. Either you would be allowed to go on as before or you’d be going on a mission up against one of the top private security contractor firms in the world which wouldn’t end well for you. But you’d take out whoever you could with you before you were killed.
Another moment passed before the voice replied, “Understood.”
Your body relaxed slightly and your shoulders sunk in relief. Colter was safe. Russell was safe…for now. And you didn’t have to go all Rambo Kamikaze on anyone. Win-win all around.
“I’ll let the higher ups know the situation has been contained. Good work. We’ll be in touch.”
Without waiting for a response from you, the call disconnected. You quickly shut the phone off and tossed it back into its original spot. You let out a deep breath and the exhaustion from the past twelve hours immediately overtook your body. Deciding that returning to your place was not an option for you right now, you headed to another part of town, parked your car on the street some blocks away to the nearest motel, and using a baseball cap to cover your hair along with sunglasses, you hoofed it and then booked a room, paying cash and using a fake name. Once you set up everything you needed to in your quarters, you slipped onto the mattress and got some much needed rest, keeping your gun under your pillow within reach should you need it.
You pulled up to Colter’s trailer, watching as he stepped outside to greet you. You put your car in park, took a deep breath, and got out. You offered Colter a small smile. “Hey.”
He returned it. “Hey.”
You had been surprised when Colter called you a few days later to let you know he was still in town for a bit and invited you to drop by for a beer. Not surprised that he was still around (you already knew that) but surprised that he even wanted to speak to you. Perhaps Russell hadn’t told him what you’d threatened back in the mountains.
You took the beer he offered to you and followed him over to the firepit, taking a seat on one of the coolers. He sat nearby and held up his bottle in a toast. You mirrored him and then you both took a sip. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as the carbonated beverage slid down your throat. You enjoyed the taste and checked the label. “Mmm, home brew…not bad. You got something you want to tell me? Planning on opening some sort of brewery outfit anytime soon?” You were teasing but if Colter really was thinking of doing something else — anything else — instead of his current job, you’d fully support it.
“Not me.” Disappointment flared in your chest, your hope dashed. “Russ was actually the one who made it. I had some left over from the other night.”
The beer suddenly began to sour in your stomach. Well, you supposed it was good that Russell was starting to think of the future, the most important part of that being that there would be one. It still burned a bit, though.
You decided to change the subject so you wouldn’t have to think about that right then. “So, your guy is back home safe?”
Colter nodded. “Dropped him off myself.” Something else you already knew but you had to keep up appearances.
You nodded, biting your lip and staring into the flames. “And your brother?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Colter’s jaw tense for a moment. “Gone.” Though you had an idea that was the case, Colter’s confirmation still stung, like someone poking a finger into an old wound after ripping the scar tissue away. But what else had you expected? This was Russell Shaw you two were talking about after all.
You snorted and shook your head, taking another swig of beer. “Of course he is.”
He turned to look at you. “You know, you never told me what happened between you two.”
You shrugged a shoulder. “Not worth going into, trust me.”
Thankfully, Colter left it alone and he rolled with it when you brought up a different topic instead.
“So, how much longer are you here for?”
“Teddi and Velma are working on that right now actually. Hopefully, something pops up soon.” He took another sip of beer, turning to gaze at the flames as well.
“It will.” Fortunately for him and sadly for others, someone would always go missing.
“How about you? Are they sending you somewhere for a new case or are they going to let you stay local for a bit? If it’s the latter, maybe you could get a dog for that place of yours?”
You smirked and ran your thumb down the smooth glass of the brown bottle in your hand. Colter kept teasing you about the residence you maintained nearby considering you were never really there most of the time. He’d then extoll the virtues of living on the open road, not having roots put down anywhere that would grow into expectations, and the unrestrained thrill of it all. The first time you’d had that conversation, you knew then that the desire to keep moving and stay unburdened must be a male Shaw thing. Dory seemed happy where she had settled and you — you wanted a home base. Some place you could come back to where you were still able to connect to yourself again, no matter how lost at sea you might be at times, no matter how much you felt as if every single piece of you was floating away on the wind until only a monster was left standing there, staring back at you in the rearview mirror of your car.
“Right now, I have a few things I need to close up,” you lied. “Then I’ll probably get sent out in the field again to work some cases.” You hated lying to him but you had no choice. His safety came first. As much as you had hated Russell for a time, you could now appreciate the difficult position he was in. Though, he had chosen to be put there, and now, so had you.
You watched Colter nod, accepting your answer. “I still think a German Shepherd would be a great choice for you,” he teased. “You know, a big dog, trainable, would make a good guard dog. You could take it with you, chase suspects down together...”
“Oh yeah, I could see it now,” you played along. “I’d have to sneak him into hotel rooms, make sure he doesn’t take a shit on the rug… Then we’d go on the job and I could introduce him to everyone, ‘I’m Special Agent Y/L/N but you can call me Turner and this is my partner Hooch.’”
Colter winced. “No, no. You have to give him a name that will strike fear into the hearts of the criminals you track down. Like General or Commando or Killer. Killer! Now that’s a good name. That will make anyone think twice about running from a dog with that name.”
This time, you were the one who winced though you hid it well. Instead, you forced out a laugh. “I am not getting a huge dog named Killer and bringing him to work with me.”
He grinned. “That’s a shame. I would have loved to have seen the look on your face when the dog would sit in the front seat.”
“There would be no front seat sitting. Back seat only.”
“Like a criminal who he just helped you to arrest? That’s cold, even for you.”
“I am so glad that you have this imaginary dog of mine’s back.”
He snickered and took a drink, looking back at the flames. Your smile slowly faded as you did the same. You both sat there, drinking in a companionable silence for a bit.
Eventually, your eyes flickered over towards him. “I need you to promise me something.”
His brows drew together questioningly when he met your gaze.
“Horizon…” You noticed him tense slightly at the mention. “No more.” When you saw the confusion in his expression, you elaborated. “No more digging, no more Reenie asking her contacts about them, no more mention of them period. You got the guy you were looking for. Now, put it to bed and forget that you ever knew they existed.”
His confusion increased. “I did put it to bed the second I dropped Doug off at his door and saw him hug his wife.”
You gave him a look. “Col, I need you to promise me,” you softly entreated.
His brows arched slightly at the use of the nickname; you didn’t use it often and if you were, then he knew you meant business. He also knew what you were telling him without explicitly saying it; Horizon was dangerous and they were better left alone. It would be better for him to get a case of sudden amnesia about anything related to the organization.
He watched you for a moment before giving you a nod. “As long as nobody else goes missing like Doug did and as long as Russ is okay, they’re forgotten.”
You knew that was the best you were going to get from him and you leaned forward slightly. “And if anything happens to Russ, I’ll be right there with you, knocking on their front door,” you promised. And you would be; no question about it.
The corner of his lips tipped up in the beginning of a smile and after a moment, you couldn’t help but return it.
The coffee shop you were in was decently quiet considering it was around 8:55 in the morning and most people were making their last minute dashes for caffeine before the working day began. You sat near the window, facing the entrance so you could keep an eye on who came in and out. You had ordered your usual, a soy vanilla latte, and you carefully sipped at the hot liquid. You scanned your phone for the day’s headlines, looking for any updates on the mysterious house fire that started in the mountains a few nights ago.
You knew you wouldn’t find any and sure enough, you didn’t. Someone was working overtime to squash the case from up above, just like you knew they would. You also knew that some local law enforcement officials didn’t buy the criminals-turning-on-their-boss theory and they actually thought the scene looked like a professional hit. Exactly what you figured would happen when accelerants had been found to be used at the scene. As much as you were sure the cops were looking to sink their teeth into something exciting to happen in those parts in however long, the bottom line was the case would get dropped and no one was going to care what happened to a violent criminal like Carlos Solano. The FBI would actually be relieved to remove one more name from their list, one more file from their desks. One more dangerous bad guy removed from the world that threatened American citizens as well as national security. No one was going to miss the murderous bastard.
You powered down your screen and placed your phone on the table, turning to glance out the window. That was when you saw him. Well, the reflection of him.
You watched as he walked towards you, still dressed in a ratty pair of jeans and old boots, wearing another t-shirt with a different musician on it while sporting an open button-up over it, and donning that old military style jacket. His eyes were intent on you and you had to wonder how he had gotten in without you seeing him. The answer was in the reflection of someone walking past him to get to the bathrooms in the rear of the cafe. There was no exit located near there, you knew that because this was a local spot of yours, so how did he… Shit.
Even though you watched him in the glass and he watched you back, you didn’t give anything away to alert him that you knew he was there. You started calculating in your head how many people stood in between you and the front door (your only exit at this point), how much force you would have to use to catch him off guard and knock him to the ground so you could make your escape, and how fast you would have to run to your car. You even had a moment to debate drawing your gun and your badge, and making a scene to get yourself out of this mess. But all of that proved to be for naught when he came to a stop near you and announced his presence by asking, “This seat taken?”
You slowly turned to face him, arching an inquisitive brow, but you eventually shook your head. His lips twitched into the beginning of a smirk and he took the seat across from you. His eyes were a lot lighter than they were the other day as they took you in. “Looking good, Y/N. Like always.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Really?”
He shrugged and reached for your coffee, taking the lid off. You hated it when he did this, the whole sharing coffee thing; now you would need to order another one…well, depending on how this impromptu meeting went. “What, I can’t tell my girl that she looks good?” He took a sip and made a face. “How do you still drink this crap? It tastes like foam mixed with shit.”
“And free garbage coffee from the lobby of the latest scuzzy motel you’re staying in doesn’t?”
“Hey, don’t knock it. They have real nice machines now and it tastes the way coffee should. Not like this bullshit.”
You watched as he grabbed a spoon, added some sugar, and began stirring the crap out of what had once been your perfect latte. You thought over what he’d said before. “I’m not your girl, Russell.” His eyes met yours. “I haven’t been for some time now.”
He finished stirring and removed the spoon, lifting the glass to take a sip. “You’ll always be my girl.”
You snorted and lifted a finger in the air to signal to the barista that you wanted another coffee. The kid gave you a nod and turned to make it. “Is that what you tell yourself when you’re hooking up with cheerleaders-turned-dental-hygienists in hot tubs?”
Russell pressed his lips together and looked appropriately chastised, not even bothering to deny it. “Colter told you. I should’ve known he would mention it. You two were always close like that.”
You didn’t confirm or deny that. There was no point in mentioning that Colter hadn’t been the one to tell you, not intentionally anyway. Instead, you leaned forward in your chair. “What do you want, Russell?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?” You snapped. You had been on edge, thinking he was here to either kill you or threaten you. Then him hitting on you and making that asinine and incredibly presumptuous statement bothered you more than you cared to admit. Not to mention he pissed you off when he took the latte you’d decided to treat yourself with after a few difficult days (without even asking you might add), knowing how that had irked you anytime he did it when you were dating. It was like the man was begging you to put a foot in his ass.
Russell glanced around briefly before removing something from inside his jacket. It was a folded up newspaper and he slapped it down in front of you. A picture of a burnt out structure stared back up at you with the headline reading above it “House Fire Claims 8 Lives, Sheriff Confirms Arson”. Your eyes met his and in that moment, you knew that he knew.
You refused to give it away just like that, though. If he wanted the truth, he’d have to work for it. He wasn’t getting anything for free, not from you, not anymore. You gave him a smirk. “Is this your way of telling me that you’ve finally learned to read, Russ? I’m impressed, really.”
Instead of being insulted, his eyes widened slightly. “You called me Russ.”
You sat back in your chair, pushing the newspaper away from you and prying eyes, waiting for the barista making his way over to you to deliver your coffee. “Slip of the tongue. Won’t happen again.” You smiled at the young kid in thanks when he placed the drink down in front of you and promptly slid your glass out of Russell’s reach. He saw it and immediately worked to smother a smile as the kid walked away.
“So, you got any more interesting tricks I should know about?”
Without any preamble, Russell said, “Solano’s dead,” the exact second you took a sip of your new coffee. If he was expecting any reaction to the news, he was in for disappointment when you didn’t give it.
“Yes, I heard. Quite unfortunate.”
“They’re all dead actually. Even that guard we subdued in the beginning.”
You remembered; you’d been the one to kill him after all. Once Russell and Colter got to their feet after knocking the guard out and started moving towards the house, you quietly pulled a knife and slipped the blade into the side of the man’s head. You’d cut his zip ties, removed them and the gag, and then caught up to the guys — all within seconds. You had made sure to move the guard’s body inside later, right before you’d started the fire, trying your best to get rid of any drag marks you’d left on the ground. You were there to clean up the mess, not leave witnesses, even if they had never seen any of you coming.
You nodded. “I know, I heard that, too. Is there a point here somewhere or can I get back to the nice morning I was having before you showed up to steal my coffee?”
Russell was the one to lean forward this time, lowering his voice even further. “You said you were calling in the FBI for a pickup. Who did you really call?”
You could tell he was trying to give you an out, an opportunity to explain that it wasn’t what he was thinking, and maybe you should have lied your ass off…but you no longer wanted to. You knew Russell; he wasn’t going to let this go until he had an answer that he deemed to be the truth. And while you could give him a distorted version of that truth that didn’t land at your feet, a petty part of you wanted him to know.
“Y/N?” He pressed. “Who did you call?”
You sat back in your chair, considering him for a moment before you spoke. “No one.”
Russell dropped his head, briefly closing his eyes. “Fuck, I was afraid of that.” He glanced up at you, his eyes full of a sadness you hadn’t seen in some time. You knew he wouldn’t be happy if he ever found out the truth, but not to this extent. “I told you to walk away and let me handle it.” His voice was softer, not as gruff as before. You realized then that you’d accomplished what that vindictive side of you had wanted all along, ever since the day he walked away; you’d hurt him and caused him pain. Pain that you could see clear as day lining his face right now. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. And quite frankly, that pain caught you off guard. After all of this time, this is what it took for him to feel even a sliver of what you’d felt back in the day when he’d left you bleeding, your heart torn from your chest and sitting in pieces on the floor he’d just casually walked over to get to the door?
Not really sure what to make of this development or the emotions it caused to rise up within you, you went into pure professional mode and forged ahead. “The three of you didn’t need to be involved.” You could see the pain getting worse and it made you uncomfortable, something prodding at your chest and itching at your skin that you really didn’t care for. “Besides, last I checked, I don’t take orders from you, Shaw.” You threw his last name in there as a last resort to put even more distance there between you.
His eyes flicked from the newspaper to you. “Who do you take orders from then? Something tells me this wasn’t FBI-sanctioned.”
You surreptitiously glanced around you before leaning in, lowering your voice.“You know, going to your handler’s house during her kid’s birthday party was a pretty bad idea. Ann really didn’t like that.” You watched as Russell’s eyes widened slightly before his face fell, a dreaded realization filling his expression. He had never mentioned her name to you before and he knew Colter hadn’t mentioned her to you either when giving you the rundown of what they knew before meeting up in the mountains. You sat back, tensed and ready for whatever came next.
His jaw clenched. “How long?” He ground out.
“Long enough.”
You kept your gaze trained on his and you did your best to read him, trying to assess what he might do, now that the pain was all but absent since your revelation. Would he tell you to watch your back and leave? Would he tell you to stay away from Colter for good? It was hard to gauge from the way he was staring at you right then. You could see anger bubbling underneath but you also caught something coming to the surface that strangely looked like remorse. Considering you hadn’t seen that emotion on him too often, it was tough to be sure in your identification of it. And then something flickered in his eyes right then, something so fast you almost didn’t catch it, but you did. Fear that quickly dissolved into determination. You braced yourself for whatever he would say or do; this was it. This would determine your next steps.
Instead, he surprised you once more. He snatched the newspaper up and slipped it back into his jacket, before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “I’m getting you out of here. Now. Let’s go.”
Stunned, you wordlessly got to your feet but then it hit you, you were about to go somewhere alone with him. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself but he had still been Special Ops once upon a time and he killed people for a living…just like you.
“Russell, I’m not—”
“Yes, you are,” he growled. “I’m getting you as far from here as I can. I’ve got a buddy who has a cabin in upstate New York. It’s got months-long supplies, power and running water, and a small armory. You’ll be safe there until this whole thing blows over.”
You yanked your hand out of his and grabbed your phone and jacket. “I’m plenty safe here. I have no reason to run, so I’m staying. You want to leave? Go right ahead. We both know it’s what you’re best at.” The sadness was back but you looked away from it. Yes, that had been another low blow but it was also well-deserved. You moved past him, refusing to look over your shoulder even once. There was no way he’d do anything out in the open; he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially now.
You slipped into your car, not surprised in the least when Russell got in on the other side before you could even think about locking the doors.
“What are you doing?” You hissed.
“What’s it look like?” He clicked his seatbelt. “I’m staying with you until you agree to my plan to get you someplace safe or you explain how the hell this even happened.” He pulled out the newspaper, holding it up for a moment before tossing it to the floor. You could see the determined set to his jaw and you knew he meant it.
“Russell,” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I do not have time for this.” You blew out a quiet breath and turned to face him. “Now I suggest you get out of my car or—”
“You’ll shoot me?” He shot you a look. Yeah, he was still pissed about the threats you’d made a few nights ago. You supposed you couldn’t blame him but you did what you had to do to get him and his brother out of there. You had regrets but they were slim. “We both know you won’t.”
That infuriated you and had you seething. “You think I won’t?”
“I know you won’t. Just like I know that no matter how much you tell yourself that you hate me, you really don’t.”
You scoffed out a laugh in disbelief. “Wow, you really are incredibly delusi—”
“I also know you would never do that to my brother.” Your glare in his direction intensified. “You’ve always been protective of him. Just like me.” A glimmer of a fond smile worked its way onto his bearded face.
Your jaw clenched and you looked away from him, back towards the coffee shop you had just stormed out of, your grip tightening on your steering wheel. It was true; you’d always looked out for Colter in some way ever since you’d gotten to know him through Russell.
While the relationship between the brothers had been strained for years, it didn’t mean that there hadn’t been a couple of times where Dory hadn’t attempted to get them into a room together to try to fix what had been broken. In one such instance, Russell had brought you along, after shocking you by asking you two nights before to accompany him. The man had spent over a decade in the military, worked Special Ops, and there wasn’t much he was afraid of, if at all. But when you were wrapping leftovers to throw into the fridge and he’d laid a hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him, you’d never seen Russell Shaw look so worried, vulnerable, and damn near terrified in all of the time you’d known him. You’d even felt it when he’d enfolded you into his arms and whispered into your ear that he was due to meet up with his family in the next two days, asking you to come with him. How could you say no to that? You knew of the family’s tragic history and the simmering tensions that still existed between the Shaws who were still alive; Russell had told you everything, even about how his mom had hung him out to dry (though he made excuses for her which made you grind your teeth). And for him to ask you to go, to meet his family, you knew then just how important this was for him. So you went, squeezed his hand in silent support whenever he appeared to need it, and did your best to provide distraction whenever things got a little too tense or heated. Dory didn’t care for you too much; you got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t happy Russell had brought an interloper to a family-only discussion. But Colter…Colter you got along with from the start.
Colter seemed happier to talk to you than his brother and you could tell that bothered Russell tremendously. He had told you once how much he missed his siblings at times, especially his little brother, and he would never stop hoping to patch things up with them one day. Sure enough, he tried to interject into the conversation a few times with you helping as much as you could, but each time Colter shut him down. It was blatantly obvious that the younger man wanted nothing to do with him and there was definitely some resentment still floating around after years of estrangement. Needless to say, things hadn’t ended well at that dinner and you weren’t surprised that Russell drank a little heavier that night. Nor were you surprised when he grasped at you in the hotel room and pulled you to him, his lips claiming yours as he began unbuttoning your shirt and moving you towards the bed. You knew he was hurting and you let him take solace in you as you whispered loving assurances in his ear.
After that, Colter surprised you by calling you a couple of months down the road, apologetically asking for your help on a case he had picked up. Though he didn’t know you well, he was in a rough spot and needed a helping hand, particularly a Federal one. You saw the opportunity for what it had been, an opening of a possible door between him and Russell, so you took it. You helped Colter as much as you could without risking being read the riot act by your superior, and you two got to know each other better as you worked together. It happened a few more times and you had even called Colter in to assist on a case of your own that you had snagged. You had gone for beers afterwards each time and you’d tried your best to talk to him, to convince him to give Russell a chance. He hadn’t been interested, was resistant to it even, but he liked you and he was starting to trust you a little more each time. He’d even reluctantly admitted once that he was glad his brother had you, immediately following up with “He better be treating you right, though.” You had simply smiled and assured him that Russell very much was.
You didn’t mention the odd absences a few times a month (sometimes with little to no warning), the radio silence during these stints, and the avoidance of any penetrating questions upon his return — all of it that had become conditional to your relationship by that point. And Russell certainly wasn’t happy at all to find out you’d been working with Colter once you told him. You both had arguments before like any common couple but nothing like this. You had never seen him so angry and he’d laughed when you told him he had no need to be jealous if that was what he was worried about, you loved him and you were trying to make things better for the both of them, to pave the way for him to be able to make peace with his brother.
“You just don’t get it.”
He had shaken his head and glared over at you before he walked out of the room, away from you. From then on, Russell became even more secretive, distant, and cold as ice. Gone was the easy affection, heart to heart talks, and playful banter between you. Gone were the tender touches, gentle kisses, and passionate sex. The love of your life turned into a stranger right before your very eyes. It hadn’t been too long after that when he’d left for good, leaving your heart shattered on your hardwood floor. As time passed, you were surprised he hadn’t just packed up and left in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, without a single word to you and completely ghosting you, since he had been intent on leaving you in his past. It might have been kinder actually compared to the things he’d said to you as a final goodbye before walking away for good.
So whenever you had dared to think back on it over the last few years, you’d always figured the fight over Colter had contributed in some way to the rapid unraveling of your relationship. Well, that fight and…other things.
“Let’s go somewhere we can talk,” Russell urged, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Come on, Y/N, you owe me that at least.”
You turned the most menacing glare on him that was possible for you to give someone. “I don’t owe you shit,” you bit out. How dare he say that? To you of all people?
His jaw tightened and after a moment, he agreed with a soft nod. “Fair enough.”
You broke away from his intent gaze a minute later, your decision made as you turned the car on. “You know what? If this will get you out of my life for good this time, then fine. Let’s talk. And don’t be so sure I won’t shoot you afterwards should you continue to piss me off. You’re right, I do care about Colter,” You scowled over at him. “But not that deeply.”
Russell matched your scowl but wisely kept quiet as you backed your car out of your parking spot. You felt an immediate surge of guilt for having said that about his younger brother. You did care about Colter, more than you would ever admit to anyone, even your ex. There was nothing remotely romantic between you two; there never had been and there never would be. But Russell had been right; you were protective of him. Not only because he was a good man but he also reminded you of someone you had lost long ago. You would bend over backwards to keep him safe (as safe as you could given his chosen career), even if it meant putting yourself in harm’s way. He had truly become like a brother to you.
But you had also meant what you said just now. If Russell continued to irritate you, there was no way he was leaving this time without you putting a bullet in him. Right in his ass before the door could hit it when he turned his back on you for the last time. That or a good old fashioned ass kicking in the form of your right hook. After everything he’d done, he deserved nothing less.
You pulled up to a local motel that you had booked a room at the last few days, in case you needed to close up shop and haul ass out of town quickly. It wasn’t the same establishment you had gone to the morning of the fire and you still had your place thirty minutes away, but you had learned it was always best to prepare for any eventuality. Especially after a job needing to be done so close to home. You had seen what happened with Doug; who was to say Horizon wouldn’t leave you out to dry, too, should the heat from the fire get a little too close?
You got out and headed over to the door, unlocking it and stepping inside, not looking back to see if Russell was following you. Neither of you had spoken on the ride over (which was probably for the best) and you didn’t glance at him once. Instead, you had done your damndest to tamp down the fury you felt racing through your veins as more and more memories played out in your mind. Now that Russell had a vague idea of the truth of what you had been doing all of this time, everything you had ever wanted to say to him seemed to be trying to rush to the surface as well as all of the pain you had endured.
You slipped your suit jacket off and tossed it onto the bedspread. You heard the door shut behind you and you spun around, seeing Russell’s eyes scanning the room, stopping on the bed, and then lifting to you. You scoffed and unbuttoned the sleeves of your blouse, rolling them up to your forearms. “Not happening so don’t even think about it,” you hissed.
“Wasn’t going there.”
You didn’t believe him. “Right.” You took a seat at the table and impatiently gestured to the seat across from you. “Well?”
He sat down and without missing a beat, dove right in. “How the hell did this even happen, Y/N?”
“Really? That’s what you’re starting out with?”
Russell shot you a look.
You let out an aggravated sigh and sat back in your chair, crossing your legs and getting comfortable. “I was recruited, not too long after you left.”
His jaw dropped. “They approached you?”
Nodding, your jaw tightened thinking back to that time. It wasn’t a memory you liked revisiting. You were at your lowest, Russell having just walked out like the four and a half years you’d spent together hadn’t meant a damn thing to him. He had been it for you. You had put everything you had into the relationship, which proved to be a difficult balancing act sometimes between your career at the Bureau and Russell’s job that he wouldn’t tell you too much about. You both had overcome so much together…all for him to tell you that he simply didn’t love you anymore, give you a shitty apology, and walk right out the door years later. Like you had simply been an amusing distraction, nothing more. Like you had merely been a stopping point in his journey and now he was bored and moving on. The breakup would’ve hurt regardless but the cold detached manner he’d spoken to you with caused more pain than you would have ever been willing to admit. It was a good thing you had already become a Special Agent by then, not stuck to any one location or field office, given how often you were hungover for some weeks there. You had attempted to track him down (which hadn’t been easy) to try to talk to him, to make him see reason; you didn’t believe that he had stopped loving you just like that. But when you had finally located him, he had been holed up in a dingy motel, similar to this one, but he wasn’t alone. That had hurt beyond words and it had taken everything for you not to say anything, not to let him see you, and turn back around, heading home with your tail between your legs and your head hanging in heartbroken defeat.
None of it made sense to you. How had your life changed so drastically in a single day? Perhaps you had never really known Russell Shaw. Perhaps you only saw what he wanted you to see. But when you replayed the last few weeks of your relationship, even the fight over Colter, something still wasn’t jiving. So you buried yourself in work during the day and as deep into the bottle as you could during the late nights. Until they showed up.
“And you said yes?” He asked in disbelief.
Your eyes flicked to Russell, narrowing. “Why not? You did.”
He pressed his lips together. You had him there and he knew it. “That was different.”
“How?” You snapped. “Exactly how is that different, Russell?”
“I joined them long before you and I met.” Yeah, you knew that now. You knew everything he hadn’t told you the time you’d been together, minus the actual details of the off the books missions he went on. You now knew why Doug had never told Tracy anything either. Not only were they not allowed to, but It was safer that way.
“Well, bully for you, Shaw. You’ve got a few years on me at being a black ops agent and you’ve racked up a few more bodies than I have. Told way more lies, too. Congrats. Do we get you a cake or…?”
He leaned forward, covering your hand with his. “Stop. Just…talk to me,” he pleaded gently.
You hated it when he did that because you hated that it still affected you on some deep level. You rolled your eyes and moved your hand from underneath his, placing it in your lap. “They approached me about six months out from when you left.”
“Who approached you?”
Yeah, you weren’t giving him that. If you did, you knew he’d be on their doorstep in a second and that you couldn’t have. Not after you had just cleaned up the Solano mess and smoothed things over. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.” You knew that, could see it in his expression, but too bad. You both were in it now, had signed NDA’s, and details like that were meant to stay confidential anyway.
“Someone did and that’s all you're getting.” You gave him a meaningful look. “Regardless, they offered me a job and I took it.”
You watched as Russell’s features tightened. “And the FBI thing?”
“Still active, though I’m now kept more as an ear to the ground, providing information and cleanup when need be.” You noticed a slight wince cross across his face. “They’re the ones I answer to and they’ve chosen to keep me there for the time being. I’m more effective in that setup.” Those words from your handler still burned you but over time, you had been able to adapt and utilize their refusal to fully bring you in to your advantage.
“And Solano and his men? Were they cleanup?”
You didn’t break away from his penetrating gaze and gave it to him straight. “You and Doug made quite a mess of things. So, yes, I was called in to clean it up.” He briefly closed his eyes in the same pain you had seen earlier, though you couldn’t fathom why. It had been nearly three years since he’d last professed to give a shit about you. Why would this even affect him? “Horizon wanted you kept clean and Doug was on his own. Then you idiotically showed up at Ann’s residence, not only tipping them off to the fact that you were sniffing around where you shouldn’t have been but then you allowed Colter to threaten them. You had to know that was going to ruffle quite a few feathers and put a target on your backs.”
His jaw clenched again and that dark void was back in his gaze. His fingers twitched near his phone and you knew he was itching to call his brother to check on him. “And they sent you to clean that up, too?”
You slowly shook your head. “No.” If they had, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Most likely, you’d be dead while Colter and Russell would hopefully be on the run or have gone into hiding. “Only to assess what threats you both posed to the organization.”
“And what was your assessment?” He watched you carefully. In this moment, you weren’t former lovers. You were two people with lethal skills and training, willing to do whatever it took to keep your loved ones safe, even from each other.
You never broke away from his gaze, watching him back just as carefully. “What do you think?”
He stayed quiet for a moment, looking pensive and most likely turning your words over in his mind. You weren’t going to say it but knowing that gnawing feeling of constantly worrying about someone you cared deeply about, you wanted to make sure you both were on the same page of this topic. “And, Russell, if they had sent me for that, I never would.” His gaze immediately met yours. “Ever,” you promised.
His eyes roamed over your face, most likely assessing if you were bullshitting him or telling the truth. Obviously having decided on the latter, after a minute or so, he gave you a nod. “How do you know they accepted your assessment, though? There’s no way they don’t know about you and Colter, you and me…”
This time, your jaw was the one clenching. Yeah, you were made aware of that fact when you had been approached for recruitment. That was how they knew about you, your career as a Federal agent, and how you had been involved with Russell once upon a time. When you found out more about Horizon from the inside, it didn’t surprise you one bit how deeply they dove into the background of their candidates or the amount of information they gathered on them. You’d even helped put together a few files yourself, without fully knowing what unit the candidates were being considered for of course. They kept a close watch on their assets and that was putting it lightly.
So when you got involved with Russell, completely oblivious to what you were really getting into, Horizon had already scoped you out as well as Colter, Dory, their mother, Bobby, Reenie, Teddi, Velma — everyone. Even Colter’s on-again/off-again, Billie, and the mysterious circumstances of the death of the boys’ father. They knew it all. Horizon didn’t like surprises and you supposed you couldn’t blame them considering their line of work, but it also meant that you and everyone you cared about needed to be extra careful.
It was one of the many reasons you couldn’t completely forgive Russell, though you now understood why he’d walked out when he did. Things had unraveled so badly between you that you’d started quietly digging into Horizon, not trusting what Russell had told you prior. Back then, you thought you’d find only what Russell had claimed: private security, perhaps a couple of Special Ops situations where an American hostage was retrieved in another country, or worse: he was lying to you and having an affair. Now, you knew he had told you the truth — a very scrubbed, limited version of the truth that omitted most of what he really did for the outfit. You remembered what he’d told you about a week and a half before he left.
“You need to stop digging.”
You looked upon him with confusion. One minute, you had been having a very tense and silent dinner where you could only hear forks scraping against the plates every so often, and the next, Russell was glaring over at you, speaking cryptically. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You need to stop looking into Horizon and leave it alone. I mean it, Y/N. Let it be.” His eyes bored into you with warning before he got up from the table and took his plate into the kitchen, leaving you to finish your meal alone.
Normally, you wouldn’t have listened, determined to get to the bottom of Russell’s mysterious employer, but considering how your relationship was hanging by a thread at that point, you did. Despite the warning bells going off in your head, you did as exactly as he said: you let it be.
You suddenly remembered Russell’s question to you. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
Russell affected a slow nod, thinking it over. “And Colter?”
“I told them he’s no threat,” you murmured. “I talked to him, told him to forget they exist. He agreed as long as you were safe.”
For the first time since this conversation started, you could see Russell start to relax a bit, relief saturating his features. Even a small smile started to light up the tension in his face. While you could understand the feeling, share it even, something about it had you on your feet, walking over to the small refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water from the six pack you had tossed in there when you booked the room. You held one up in an offer but Russell shook his head.
“I’m good.”
You shrugged, unsurprised, and twisted off the cap, taking a drink. It made sense that he was still being cautious. Before you knew it, though, he was standing in front of you, that pleading yet determined look in his eyes again.
“I want to get you out.”
You snorted. “There is no getting out, Russell. Not for me, anyway. Not until they’re done with me.”
He took a step closer and gently took the water bottle from you, placing it on the counter, and grasped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “There’s always an exit strategy,” he murmured. “I never wanted this for you, Y/N. I only ever wanted to keep you safe. That’s why I left.”
Yeah, you knew that now, too. “I know that now. Why you wouldn’t tell me certain things about your job, but, Jesus, Russell. Did you really think they didn’t already know about me and who I was to you? Colter even? Dory? Your mom?”
He let out a deep sigh and hung his head, letting your chin go. “I know. I… It was a good fit for me at the time, the money was good — that’s why I hooked Doug up with them. But seeing how they hung him out to dry at the first opportunity and now you,” He tenderly ran his thumb along your cheek. “I’m seriously starting to rethink that decision.”
You pulled away from him. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t unring that bell.” You made your way back over to the bed and yanked your duffel bag from underneath it. You unzipped it and began rooting through it to make sure you had everything you needed for a quick getaway. You didn’t think you needed to go anywhere but now this location was blown for you since you had made the decision to let Russell know about it. You had already triple checked your stash when you left it here upon check-in but you needed something to focus on instead of the clear regret in Russell’s face. “And as for me, I made my decision.” You pulled out a gun from a secret compartment, checked the clip to make sure it was full, and slipped it back inside. “I’m good with it. I’ve used it fully to my advantage and I make good money, more than I was ever going to make at the Bureau, even if they fast-tracked me to Deputy Director. Solano was on our Most Wanted List for twenty six days and I took him out in one. Had he possibly gone free, there’s no telling what he would have done, who he would have hurt besides Doug.” You knew exactly what he would have done and who he would have hurt; he’d told you in explicit detail. You didn’t go into it but Russell wasn’t stupid (not when it came to things like this anyway). He most likely knew as well. He’d wanted to close up Solano as a loose end himself after all. “That kind of cleanup I can more than live with.”
Russell carefully approached, his eyes on the second gun you had pulled out and were checking. “I get that and I more than appreciate what you did with Solano. For Doug, for Colter and me.” Once you slipped the weapon back into its pocket, he laid a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to look over at him. “You can’t tell me, though, that this is what you want for your endgame. Not really.”
You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t have an endgame, Russell. Maybe I did once but you took that the second you walked out the door, acting like everything we’d gone through meant nothing to you, like I meant nothing to you.”
There was that remorse again and you despised it. “I’m sorry, I…handled that badly,” he admitted.
“Handled it badly?” You laughed in disbelief. You shirked his hand off of you and moved to the night table, yanking the drawer open to rip out the bible sitting in there. You opened it to the area you had cut out to hold emergency cash and cards, just like Russell had taught you once upon a time. “You told me I’d been nothing to you but a fling for the past four years, that you might have loved me once but you didn’t anymore. That I was…how did you put it? A fun distraction.” You slammed the bible shut and tossed it back into the drawer before closing it. You hurried back over to the bag, throwing the funds inside another secret compartment, more than done with this conversation.
“You’re right, I fucked up. I only said those things to—”
“Cut the cord, yeah, I know. Still doesn’t make it right,” you muttered, roughly zipping the duffel back up.
“I wanted you to be safe. You were digging into them, even after I told you not to! And worse, you were pulling Colter into it!”
That quickly got your attention and you spun on your heel, jabbing a finger in the air at him. “Don’t you fucking dare lay Colter at my feet. Especially after what you just pulled last week. It wasn’t me hauling him into Doug’s case! Not to mention, way before you met me, the minute you took that job, you put everyone you knew on their radar and you know it! So don’t you fucking dare. I have been doing everything I can to make sure Colter is safe and doesn’t pull their attention, poring over every case he takes in the background to ensure they’re not involved or have any vested interests that are. Hell, I even just used a contact of mine to float a case over to Teddi and Velma to get him out of town and far away from here to continue keeping him safe. Me, Russell! Me! And what did you do to keep him safe? You blow back into town and not only put him even more on their radar, you deliver him right to their goddamn doorstep! So don’t you dare even try to put that on me,” you finished in a snarl.
Shame lurked at the corners of his eyes and you scoffed in disgust, whirling around to grab your jacket from the bed before picking up the duffel bag and slinging the handle over your shoulder. “So glad we had this talk,” you sniped. “Now go have fun with the cheerleading dental hygienist or Reenie,” You could see more shame looking back at you. Unlike the hot tub conquest, Colter had actually told you about that one. You could tell how much it was bothering him and you knew he wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise, knowing it wasn’t something you really wanted to hear. “Or that bartender you holed up with three weeks after you walked out on me,” Now you could see surprise; you could care less. “Or whoever you want. But me? I’m done. Have a nice life, Russell Shaw, and try not to get killed before you get out to start your little brewery operation. Oh, and try to manage not to get your brother or me killed in the process, yeah? Thanks ever so much. See ya.”
You were walking towards the door when you were grabbed and whipped around. Before you could react, Russell was on you, his mouth covering yours and his hands gripping your face. “I love you,” he breathed against your lips after breaking away to let you catch your breath. “I’m sorry I said what I did back then but it wasn’t the truth. It took everything I had to walk away but as long as you were safe, that was all that mattered to me. I fucked up and I am sorry. I never stopped loving you, Y/N. Not ever.”
He wiped at your cheeks and you hadn’t even realized you’d been crying. Shit. Well, that was embarrassing. Even more embarrassing was how much you wanted to believe him. You knew he was telling the truth about why he walked away, how he wanted to keep you safe, but it obviously hadn’t been as difficult for him to move on as it had been for you. “No, you don’t,” you choked out. “If that were true, you would have never walked out that door.” Your voice wobbled on those last few words and you hated it, hated how vulnerable you were being to him right now.
You wiped at your own cheeks and turned around, ignoring the pleading you saw once again in his eyes.
“Y/N, please,” he ground out.
You kept moving towards the door. As you laid your hand on the door handle to turn it, you were whipped around one more time and he was kissing you yet again, your back pressed up against the wood. Except this time, you finally threw in the towel and gave in to what your damaged heart had been wanting all of this time. You buried your fingers in his hair and kissed him back just as passionately, not caring that more tears rolled down your cheeks as you did. He yanked the duffel bag from you and let it fall into a heap on the floor before lifting you up and turning to carry you over to the bed. You knew this was going to hurt like hell later but you refused to put a stop to it. You’d find a way to numb the pain when it ripped you open a second time, just like you always had.
The only thought running through your mind as he laid you down and ripped your blouse open, sending buttons flying everywhere, was that you had been right. You knew the bastard had been lying earlier when you’d caught him looking between you and the bed. But right then as he lifted away from you to quickly shed his top layers and then dove back down to kiss you again and melt into you, your fingers greedily relearning every inch of his bare skin, you couldn’t care less.
You reached your hand over, tenderly running a finger along the edges of the bandage on Russell’s arm. “Does it hurt?” You murmured.
“A little.” He turned his head to smile down at you. “More than worth it, though.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his chuckle at you gently pushing his head away, and turned onto your back. Russell embraced you with his other arm, pulling you into him. You rested your ear against his bare chest, hearing his steady heartbeat and settling your gaze on the ceiling above you. He pressed a kiss to your head, letting his lips linger against your hair, as his thumb rubbed your shoulder back and forth.
After a few minutes of content silence between you, you put voice to the question resounding in your mind. “How did we get here, Russell?”
“Well, you drove us over and then we—”
You softly swatted his chest, making him laugh and hearing the sound reverberate underneath your ear. “You know what I mean.”
“I wish I knew the best way to answer that, “ he whispered to you. You could hear the genuine regret in his tone and it made you start thinking about when you both would have to leave this motel room, and go back to the separate lives you had been living. Memories of lazy mornings like this back when you had been together, of you listening to his voice in your ear and knowing you were safe and loved, replayed in your mind on a loop. You would never admit it to him but you missed this, missed him. Nothing had felt right in the last couple of years like this moment here did. If anything, all of that time felt like some weird drug-induced nightmare, and you had just woken up to find Russell here next to you, nothing having changed. But that wasn’t true; everything had changed.
Not wanting to think about that just yet, you picked up the hand that had been caressing your shoulder and studied the skin of his wrist. “This is new.” You trailed your finger along the design of the tattoo sitting there. “What prompted you to get this one?”
“That’s something Doug and I got one night when we met up with another one of the guys from our unit when he was in town. Tommy Laird. Good man.”
“A crown?”
Russell shrugged underneath you. “Tommy picked the design.”
“‘We three kings’, huh?”
You heard him chuckle. “Never thought of it like that but sure.”
“Is he also a part of Horizon?”
You felt him tense underneath you at the mention of the dark and deadly elephant in the room. “No. He, uh, he lives with his wife and three kids in North Carolina. They have a house in Cary and he went back to the family business when he got home.”
You nodded and pulled his wrist to you, placing your lips on his skin and tenderly kissing the middle of the design before letting him go. He hugged you closer to him and placed a kiss to your ear in turn, letting out what sounded like a contented sigh.
A moment later, he murmured. “I want to help get you out.”
You nearly rolled your eyes again. You wanted to ask him why he was dead set on thinking that you even wanted out. Perhaps the you he had known would want a way out, want something more out of life than money and secrets and cleanups, but you had changed a lot in the last three years. But you knew if you posed that question, it would shatter the cocoon you currently found yourselves in and you weren’t ready for that to end just yet. So instead, you reminded him of another angle of the truth. “That’s not possible. Not the way you’re thinking. You know that.”
“Anything’s possible.” You nearly smiled at his response; there was the stubborn streak that sometimes infuriated you and sometimes endeared you to him, like right now. But you needed to make sure you maintained a reality check for the both of you. You knew what he was really thinking.
“Even if it was, we can’t.”
His head lifted and he frowned down at you. “Why not?”
“This isn’t some Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit. We don’t get a happy ending,” you finished sadly, thinking back to the life you once shared together as you cupped his cheek and rubbed it gently with your thumb. “Not together. It’s too dangerous.” You left it at that but you knew that he was more than aware of what you meant.
His frown intensified at your words and he covered your hand with his, turning to place a kiss into your palm. “We’ll work it out.”
“Russ,” you sighed.
He gently grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking into your eyes. “We’ll work it out,” he softly repeated, that glint of determination back in his gaze.
You decided once more that you wouldn’t bother launching into the many reasons it actually wouldn’t work out and you would refrain from popping that bubble he had just wrapped you both in. That moment would come later. But for now, you continued to keep silent.
When he noticed you weren’t going to say anything, a mischievous smile began to form on that handsome face you loved. “You know, I don’t really have anything planned for today. How about you?”
Other than some paperwork you had to go over later, your day was pretty much free, too. Even if it hadn’t been, you knew that look and after this morning, despite still having some unresolved anger with him, despite things that still needed to be said between you, you would have freed up your schedule immediately. “I don’t think I’ll be missed for a while,” you teased.
He leaned in to kiss you, whispering to your lips, “Oh, you were missed. Very much fucking missed.” The impishness you had heard a moment before was now absent but he never gave you a chance to respond. Instead, he kissed you deeply and began moving to cover your body with his once again. He maneuvered himself in between your thighs, your legs automatically coming up to gently cradle his hips. “Your arm,” you broke away to warn him.
“Don’t care.” He lowered down to keep kissing you and surprisingly (or unsurprisingly perhaps), all was right in the world right then. You didn’t allow yourself to get swept away by it or by the fantasy of something that would never be. Sadly, the time for you and Russell to be together had come and gone. You’d had your chance and you both had blown it, with him starting you out of the gate. This right here, this was all that was left — like embers of a dying fire. You would always love him, you knew that (truthfully, you had always known it), but this was all you would ever have. Once you both walked out that door, you would be walking in separate directions, taking different paths in your lives, no matter what Russell would say.
But for right now, you allowed yourself to live in the moment, to enjoy it as he groaned into your mouth when your hand helped guide him to where you both wanted him to be. You held onto him as he began a slow movement within you, knowing you would need to take over again very soon when his left arm began to tremble. But until then you kept him close to you, drank deeply of him, and reveled in what the two of you had always managed to create together, content to keep Horizon and the rest of the world on the other side of the motel room door, if only for a moment longer.
A/N: I know I left some things open and unresolved. I wanted to do that to let this be a gateway to the continuing story in the short series coming titled "Closer". Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series.
dividers by @firefly-graphics
#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw x female reader#russell shaw x y/n#russell shaw fanfiction#close enough#thebiggerbear writes
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Favorite Headcanons for airy?
i have like 10 million headcanons for him but i’ll list as many as i can from the top of my head
-hes autistic LIKE ME!!! and is specifically very autistic about music (like meee) i like to think he had a huge collection of vinyls cds cassettes etc and its all stuff from the 60s to the early 90s. no doubt he had a bunch of posters for his favorite bands and musicians too. and hes awesome on the guitar, great rhythm guitarist… its a shame he couldn’t make his talent a profession like he once dreamed of doing. oh well, at least the number 1 perk of trucking is that its peaceful and you dont really have to interact with many people! plus trucks have radios, and cd players, so airy would often bring along a few albums to listen to as he drove those long days and nights.
-hes also got a knack for aquatic creatures (LIKE ME) of course, being a literal fish monster himself (cool fact my airy design is like actually a fish monster he can breathe underwater and everything and his limbs are covered in fish scales) airy loves fish both as friends and food. hes particularly fond of freshwater fish, which makes sense considering the fact he grew up around the swamps of louisiana (yes im making him louisianan Like Me shaddap) hes also fond of those fucked up looking deep sea creatures, just so fascinating. i think airy liked to do a little fishing in his spare time. And hes awesome at cooking em but fair warning for those with a low spice tolerance… he loves spicy food btw (like meeeee)
-when airy was in the forest, he kept a log of his thoughts on the computer, in an attempt to hopefully give himself whatever clarity he could. the notes ranged from all brief, to desperate, to hopeless, to spiraling, to borderline dadaist poetry? to insanity, to denial, to whatever, really i think his mind was obviously all over the place on a daily basis. things must have been pretty loud for him, that cassette player was probably one of the only things keeping him together, before he numbed himself n all, which is around the time he ceased writing these notes as he saw no point in doing so.
-ok enough about him suffering we’ll get back to that later Airy’s favorite drink is ginger ale i mean look at that guy and tell me he doesnt fw ginger ale or dr pepper are you kidding me. he can have dr pepper as a little treat (too much soda is bad for anyone especially if youre an old feller like airy) speaking of little treats i like to think he has an insatiable sweet tooth LIKE MEEEE and his favorite treaaats are pumpkin pie, macarons and practically anything chocolate he loves chocolate (im like allergic to not projecting onto my favorite characters if you couldnt tell) maybe airy knows how to bake a little bit i mean he is an object show host after all
-this is oddly specific but airy is a chronic pain warrior #JUSTLIKEME so when he was in the forest he’d make like home made heating pads by wetting a glob of moss and putting it against his face while he had his flame on (he sometimes put it on a plank over a bonfire if he felt like it) this was a bit tricky when he broke his face but im sure he managed he always manages (kinda) (relatively speaking)
-well anyway we’re back to the forest and i just mentioned his broken face So you know how he disappeared for seven months after he did that lol well what if it was because the pain and shock from that incident evoked the long lost clarity he’d been so stubbornly avoiding in order to cling on to his meaningless, fallacious escapism which triggered him and sent him into a state of agonizing self consciousness, reminding him of his earthly death, how he used to be Someone, and how he essentially let himself rot into what is now an empty shell of who he once was. after so many years, the first reflection he saw of himself was seen in something broken; shards of glass, of which he couldn’t stand to look at… as there is nothing comparable to the pain of revelation, the burden of truth after having been so lost and festered into the stagnant waters that surround you. he felt he had no choice, he disposed of the shards into the nearby stream. those seven months were not just a matter of physically healing, but as a means to losing himself all over again.
-Aaaanyway i think airy had a cat at some point in his life i think we can all agree hes a cat person right!!! he had a tortoiseshell kitty named goose and he loved her very much. idk why he named her goose he probably just thought it was funny to name an animal after a different animal.
-OH YEAH lemme bring amelia into this listen i am such a huge fan of the theory of airy being related to amelia so i like to think hes her uncle!! when amelia was little she’d stay over at airy’s house while her parents were away and he’d teach her stuff like how to fish, how to ward off snakes, how to kayak, all that jazz cuz he was an awesome uncle. she was kinda like an actual daughter to him. and amelia was so fond of sunny weather as a child, one dayy at airy’s house she had to stay inside because it was too rainy, so she occupied herself by drawing a little picture of the way she wished earth was; always sunny, sky always blue, grass always green, huh! the way she drew that grass as individual little triangles is all too familiar is it not…
OK I HAVE SOMEWHERE 2 GO now i’ll probablt add more later But thank u so much for asking this i love love love infodumping about anything airy related i heart airy
#frank answers a thing#airy hfjone#hfjone#believe it or not this is just a few#i have so many i have way too many i have so so so many things to say about airy oh my gosh#oh my gosh airy
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linktober 31 - HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
I thought for the last day I'd write a little retrospective on what this whole thing was like and what I learned. I'm too tired to draw literally anything else I'm due for a break lol
So this was my second time ever attempting a linktober/october drawing challenge, but my first time managing to complete all the days and prompts. I feel super proud of myself and accomplished for pulling it off.
There were a number of things that were surprising and that were challenging for me that I wasn't expecting this month. If anything, I think this challenge really highlighted my flaws and mental blindspots with how I approach making art.
For one thing, I came away from this not liking everything I made. I think I only like about 9 or 10 of the 30 pieces I put out there. When I don't like my art, I tend to get stuck in this mental stalemate of refusing to finish a piece until I like it, but also refusing to retrace my steps and erase/rework what I have so far for fear of losing progress or not being able to replicate the line/angle/color/etc that I liked.
It was surprisingly hard to accept when I didn't like a piece but had to move on for the sake of time and post it anyway. But once I did it a few times, it got easier. I realized prioritizing my standards over my available energy is not gonna promote progress. If I kept sinking myself into one piece and not moving on until it was optimal, I never would have finished anything-- that was the pitfall that ultimately made me bail out 10 days in last year.
I also realized my sunk cost fallacy/"what if I erase this and can never redraw it good again" stems from some real lack of confidence in my knowledge and techniques with art. I'm self-taught, and I think I tend to believe that everything I make is a dumb happy accident, even though I have mental rules when I draw, use tons of references, and have a process lol. There are a few pieces I started over 2-3 times before I got them right, and that's starting to feel liberating instead of like failing to me now, which I never expected to come out of this experience so that's cool.
Another place I had to learn to let go of control in this was with allowing for style variation. I really wanted each and every piece to be coherent and painterly, like they all came from the same book or something. But then I couldn't decide whether I wanted to do all/no lineart, all/no detailed background, all/no heavy rendering, etc. At the end I settled on just keeping the same canvas dimensions and just prioritizing filling up the space. Glad I ended up doing this, because I really would benefit from continuing to chill out and scale back how much I default to making dramatic, high-render pieces. I gotta break out of my comfort zone and make more sketchy little guys!
Sometimes my attachment to the prompts fluctuated; some prompts I thought I would love and then just wanted to get them over with. Some prompts I thought I would hate and subsequently half-ass, then I ended up redoing them and putting more effort & time into and loved the end result!
It was funny to also see how some pieces that I loved straight up did not get a whole lot of notes or attention. Some pieces I was "meh" about did crazy numbers lol. I'm used to posting maybe 5-6 times a year on here, so I'm usually indifferent to getting notes (by which I mean, I'm super grateful for likes & reblogs and the super sweet & funny messages in y'alls tags, but I'm not butthurt when I don't get notes because whatever happens, happens). Churning out 30 pieces in 30 days made me sometimes get bewildered by what did and didn't get notes, but frankly in the end I think it helps reaffirm that I should continue putting whatever I want out there because it! is! not! graded!!!
So would I do Linktober again? Probably not, sorry! it was a lot of time & effort and took me away from fall festivities more than I would have liked. I kinda only managed to pull this off because I was transitioning between jobs this month and had a week off to just draw. But I also completely see the value in taking on a challenge like this and finishing what I started, I'm super glad I did this, I think my art improved from it. I would definitely do future drawing challenges/prompt things that are quicker or have less prompts!
My advice to prospective future linktoberers: pace yourself and be gentle; this is a great chance to do something exciting and new with your art, but above all it's about you having fun. There are no prizes at the end except for what you've learned and how you feel about it, and that's for the best!!
One thing's for sure, I am zelda'd out lmao so I'll be branching out towards some little projects I have lined up for personal art and other fandoms I'm into right now
So anyway thanks to all of you who read this or who gassed me up this whole month, I appreciate you!!!!!!!! ヾ(^∇^)
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CAPITAL VICES | GLUTTONY
Gluttony: excessive and ongoing indulgence
Masterlist
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 12.5k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), sweet sweet morning sex, cockwarming if you squint, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), dom/sub, bratty sub, begging, praise, overstimulation, sir kink, name calling, very brief mentions of free use kink, degradation, scratching?, lots of banter/flirting, mentions of addiction/substance use, touch of jealousy, mentions of death/dying, mentions of drinking, swearing, embarrassment, some fluff, sorry if i miss any!
hi, i couldn’t help myself 🤭 you guys are so so awesome and i hope you like this as much as the first chapter! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻
The morning came harshly and much too quickly for your liking. The sun rays were demanding your wakefulness as they wrapped around the dark curtains hung over the window. When your eyes cracked open for the first time, you were so comfortable and content that you almost believed you were nestled in your own bed. Then, the first hint of the familiar cologne reached your nose, sending a wave of anxiety through you. Dread settled deep in your stomach, heavy like lead and large enough that it left no room for anything else. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, looking around the unfamiliar room as you recollected the memories from the night before.
In a flash of imminent evocation, you looked down at your legs covered by the blanket, but you were no longer immersed in the comfort of a (seemingly very expensive) mattress. Instead, you were sat atop a foreign countertop with a strangers head between your thighs, feeling the most intense pleasure you had ever experienced. You blinked hard, shaking the thought from your head as you made a quick return to reality. There was no stranger between your legs, but you were cozy underneath said strangers blankets, and your head was laying comfortably in a mountain of his pillows. You shifted, making a move to sit up, but had to stop for a moment to satiate the dull ache in your hips. Another memory of being bent over the kitchen table flashed in your mind, and this one prompted a sudden sensation deep in the pit of your stomach.
You did not wake up feeling ashamed like you predicted you would. Instead, you felt lighter than you did before you met Jake at the bar, more free and with less stress holding you down. You weren’t sure if he solved all of your regular worldly troubles with sex alone, but he definitely made a dent in them. Before your drunken escapades the night prior, sex was a distant memory in your mind. You did not turn to celibacy, nor were you abstaining for the purpose of morality, but rather just because you had no desire or time to chase after a man who was not interested in anything other than pleasing himself. When Jake whispered his sweet words in your ear, laced with the promise of enjoyment and simplicity, you could not turn it down even if you wanted to. You were desperate for a release but did not want any of the complications that came along with it, and right now, the only complication you could see was that you were stranded at his apartment without a car.
Well, that, and the fact you did not know where your new-found friend had disappeared to.
The space in bed beside you was empty, only a slight divot in the mattress and pillows strewn messily near the headboard remained to remind you that someone had indeed slept next to you and it was not just a fallacy of your overactive imagination. You strained to listen, wondering if he was just busying himself in another room until you woke up. After a few moments, you could hear some light rustling coming from the kitchen. You leaned closer to the door, turning your head to try and catch a glimpse of what he was doing. Almost as soon as you did, you heard footsteps nearing the bedroom. You shot back to your original position, hoping that he did not catch sight of you watching him. It seemed like you were in the clear, because once he fully emerged around the corner, his eyes were only focused on two steaming mugs of coffee held tightly in his hand.
“Good morning, sunshine.” He chuckled, setting one down on his nightstand before carefully handing one to you. He was standing shirtless, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants, and he was just as beautiful as you remembered. If you dared to admit, almost even more so now that you knew him so intimately. You would be lying if you said you were not mesmerized by the sight. Words seemed impossible, and all you could do was stare while your mind caught up with the rest of the world.
“Morning.” You eventually mumbled, peering into the mug. “What’s this?”
“A million dollars.” He rolled his eyes. “What do you think it is?”
“I know what it is Jake,” you argued back, surprised at how quickly he was able to pinch the wrong nerve. “You know what I mean.”
“It’s coffee, because it’s ten in the morning and I thought I’d do something nice for you.” He said, sliding into bed next to you. “Besides, figured you might have a headache, and I thought it might help. I didn’t realize it would be such a big deal.”
“This isn’t very no strings attached,” you warned, but took a sip of the coffee anyway. “I said no breakfast or anything like it.”
“Good thing it’s not breakfast, then.” He fought back another eye roll, finding your concern very misplaced. “Friends can make each other coffee too, you know.” He paused, looking over at you with curiosity. “Do you even know how to have friends? Because I’m beginning to think you don’t.” He raised an eyebrow, his jab playful but it still stung.
“Remember when I said I wasn’t sure I wanted to be your friend?” You reminded, sitting the mug on the table on your side of the bed. “Still trying to figure that one out.”
“So cruel angel, and for what?” There was a smile on his lips, knowing that your banter was not because of his character, but rather because of your unwillingness to show a shred of weakness. You were a strong personality, and you hated the fact that he wanted to know you. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, and it did not bother him at all, mostly because he knew how to work around it. He’d done it once, and he was certain he could do it again.
“Hardly think I’m being cruel, Jacob.” You leaned back, resting against the headboard. “Just being honest.”
“Your honesty is cruelty.” He laughed, recalling your blunt insults that had been piling up since the night before. “Can’t even pretend to like me for the sake of my feelings?”
“I must like you a little bit, because I’m still here. I could have ran away in the middle of the night, but I toughed it out. That has to count for something.”
“I think you like me more than just a little bit.” He theorized, his eyes studying your expression as he spoke. “You were quite a fan last night.” Your cheeks dusted red at his words, realizing that he had been thinking of the sinful experience just as much as you were. Then again, it was groundbreaking sex, and it was impossible not to think about it. “You want to go home?” He asked, breaking you from the thought.
“I thought that was the deal? You take me home in the morning, we promise to keep in touch, then we forget about it before we go to bed tonight… the whole thing is pretty cookie cutter. I don’t want to make myself feel special.” You explained, cocking your head to the side in curiosity as you noticed a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He didn’t say it, but he did think you were special. In fear of scaring you away, he opted to keep that to himself.
“I did say I would take you home today, but I never said when.” He corrected, a smirk pulling at his lips. “And don’t think I’m in any hurry to forget about you, sweetheart.” Under the blanket, his cool hand landed on your thigh, the touch gentle but impactful. It stole the air from your lungs, and the desire in his features went in for the kill. He barely touched you, and in truth, barely said anything worthwhile, but the familiar ache between your legs had already started to make a return. He was committed to breaking your psyche, and he was doing the job well. It was impossible not to melt under his touch, and resisting him was not an option. He was charming, handsome and confident. He could convince you to fall to his feet without even opening his mouth.
“Sneaky.” You breathed, trying to focus on anything other than his fingers dancing dangerously close to his favourite part of you. “What if I say no? Maybe I want to go home now.”
“Are you really going to say no, or are you just trying to piss me off?” He questioned, inching closer to you.
“I’d never do anything like that.” You lied, a smile forming on your lips and immediately selling you out.
“No, never.” He played into you, the same smile growing on his lips. In one swift motion, he pulled the blanket away from your legs. The cool air took you by surprise, sending a shiver down your spine. Your first instinct was to grab the blankets and pull them back over the exposed skin, but you knew better. Whatever he was intending to do would be much more enjoyable than the simple comfort of warmth. “Cold?” He crooned, faking his concern only partially.
“Mhm.” You nodded, looking over his face. You were in awe of his beauty, unbelieving that someone could be so perfect. Even if a relationship was out of the question, you could not deny his physical advantage over any other boy you had ever met. However, he did seem to push all of the wrong buttons and his personality irked you more every time he spoke, but for some strange reason, it was unbelievably compelling, too. Perhaps the buttons he liked to press were exactly right, and you just did not want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Deep down, even if you found him annoying, you felt you were lucky to be annoyed by him at all. Jake seemed like the type of person everyone wanted in their life, even if you hated him by times.
Hate is a strong word, and it was far from the correct description of how you felt about him; he only bothered you so much because you wanted him around, and you had never felt that way about anyone until he walked into your life. You liked him, but you hated the fact that you did. Instead of submitting to the feeling, you covered it up with a cold exterior in hopes it would scare him away.
Once again, the battle between your unwillingness to give in and his unwillingness to give up seemed to take precedence over anything else.
“Poor baby.” He sympathized, moving towards you and settling between your legs. “I think I know how to warm you up.”
“Yeah?” You asked, completely distracted from your earlier argument. No matter how much you wanted to resist, you couldn’t seem to find the strength to do so. You reached down, cupping his cheek in your palm as you dusted your thumb over the soft skin. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, happy that you seemed much more receptive of his advances. He was fearful that if anything, you would be the one to wake up and regret your decisions. Even sober, he still found you as enchanting as he did when he first laid eyes on you, and he knew that from the minute he brought you into his life, him feeling any type of regret would be completely implausible. “What’s that?”
“Thought you said you wanted to go home?” He raised an eyebrow, letting his fingers trail up your thigh. The light tickle was barely noticeable, but it was still enough to drive you to insanity. Everything he did was all the same, whether the touch was minimal or incredibly apparent, no matter if it was something sweet or dirty coming from his lips, or even if he was staring or just sneaking glances. No matter what Jake was doing, it was hard to ignore, and it was the only thing you wanted to pay attention to.
“I might have been lying.” You shrugged, enthralled in the playful expression on his face.
“Did nobody ever teach you that lying is bad, sweetheart?” He said, his fingers finally anchoring on your hips, right under the hem of his t-shirt that was just a little too big for you.
“Did you ever think that maybe I just don’t care?” You offered, posing the idea as if it were blasphemous.
“Such a bad girl.” He let out a disapproving tsk, shaking his head at you. “You don’t want to go home, do you angel?” You could not find it within you to lie to him, and if you did, he would see straight through you anyway. Besides, even if you did want to go home when you woke, there was no way you could leave him now. Whatever he had done to you the night before, you weren’t sure. What you did know was that the wicked spells he had cast and the sinful curse of his companionship was tying you down right to his bed, the chains not even loose enough give a vague impression of freedom.
You were no longer a girl he had met at the bar, wooed by his pretty smile and captivating eyes. You weren’t just a subject that fell victim to his sweet words, nor the euphoric nature of his touch. You were a woman who was in desperate search of salvation, yet unsure if you would ever find it. You were praying to be released, but he was the altar in which you prayed to. There was no escape, no surrender nor even certain death could save you from his hands. It would be a pleasant death, one that cushioned you as you descended, but you would be subservient to him until the bitter end. He held the power, and you were subordinate to him. You knew that even long after you left the realm of mortality, you would still search for him in the darkness, and well into the next life.
After all, the devil knows no mercy, and you had invited him in and welcomed him with open arms. You sealed your fate the first time you allowed his lips to touch yours, your soul fleeing you and becoming his for the taking. You could continue in hopes of salvation, but you knew that nothing could save you from the damage that was already done. It was only the first day of your lifelong sentence, and part of you had already come to terms with the inevitable; there was nobody in the entire would that could ever compare to Jake.
“No, sir.” You shook your head, giving him a long look with innocent eyes. The sight seemed to drive him crazy, thrilled that you had remembered the rules so well.
“That’s what I thought,” he smiled, using his hand on your hip to pull you down towards him. Your head landed gently on the pillows and your stomach twisted with anticipation. He instantly picked up on your shallow breathing, knowing that you were all but vibrating with excitement. “What’s wrong?” He hummed as his fingers pushed the t-shirt to your stomach, revealing the lack of clothing on your lower half.
“Nothing.” You promised, and it was the truth. There was nothing bothering you except for his slow pace. Even then, you knew with how generous he was the night before, he had to make you suffer at least a little bit. The evil that lived within him thrived off your impatience, and it only made him draw out his teasing even more.
“Right,” he spoke softly as his eyes settled on your stomach. “You’d let me do anything I wanted to you and you wouldn’t say a word.” He speculated, lowering his lips to your stomach, dusting a kiss over your navel. “I bet you’d like it, too.” He let his lips drift downward ever so slightly, making your breath hitch in your throat. You watched him in awe, completely enchanted by his ego that was taking up so much space in the room. Even if you thought it was self-centred for him to say such a thing, he was correct, and it was hot. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, your skin crawling with excitement.
“Maybe that should be our deal, then.” He said, eyes flickering down to your cunt, barely able to contain his own eagerness. “I get to use you for whatever I want, whenever I want, and you get to be happy with what you get.” Even if the idea of being completely at his disposal was incredibly enticing, you could help but feel a sinking feeling in your stomach when you thought of not having any control. You could commit to giving him most of the power, but you couldn’t give it all to him. If you did that, you would be going against every single one of your morals, and you’d already given up enough on his behalf.
“That doesn’t sound very fun.” You protested.
“I think it would be plenty of fun.” He argued, his mouth now dangerously close to your heat. “Maybe I can change your mind about it later.” He smiled, flickering his eyes up towards your face. He noticed the look of doubt in your eyes, but it did not seem to deter him. “What? A man can dream, can he not?”
“Mhm, keep dreaming all you want, Jacob.” You smiled, reaching down to brush the hair from his eyes.
“Oh, I will.” He promised. There was no doubt that sex with you would infiltrate every single thought that crossed his mind. You took post in every one of his dreams the night prior, and would for every one to come next. You had him wrapped around your finger, even if he would never admit it, and he had you hooked on him just the same. “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t like it,” he muttered, moving further down and pressing a few light kisses to the inside of your thigh. “You know I’d always be good to you. I told you I’d take care of her, didn’t I?”
“You did.” You nodded, unable to argue his words. He had proven beyond your expectations that he was indeed in the game to please you, and you had no fear he would do his duty flawlessly. With a small smile on his lips, he felt as though he was finished with taunting and he finally lowered his mouth to your cunt. A gasp fell from your lips as his tongue ran through you, slow but still fantastic. You could tell that despite his love for teasing, he had been waiting for this since long before you woke up. “Oh, god.” You groaned, feeling his tongue circle your clit.
You were sore, still sensitive from the night before, but you were so addicted to his touch that it did not matter. You knew that even if his intent was to inflict pain, you would still find yourself crawling back to him just to feel his hands on you. Violence appeared ethereal as long as it was him who caused it, and to know violence at his hands was more tempting than pleasure from another.
He was living in the sound of your shallow breaths and thriving off the noises that slipped from your mouth. He was enamoured with the way your hand went in search of the hair on his head, and how your fingers twisted the strands tightly around themselves. Every now and then, your thighs would squeeze against his skull, drawing him in and locking him there for the rest of time. If he could, he would live with his head between your legs for the rest of his life, fed from the sweet sounds you made and comforted by the warmth of your touch. He had only known such pleasure for a short time, but he was certain that nothing else in his lifetime would ever equate.
He savoured the sweetness of your arousal, knowing that it was only so intoxicating because he was the cause of it. Knowing that he could drive such a beautiful woman to such weakness made him weak. He liked to believe that he was just as cold hearted and stony as you were. Love was never something that touched him, nor anything he’d ever craved. Company was low on his list of priorities, much like your own, especially when it was in regards to romance. To him, sex was enjoyable, but connection was not. What he could not deny was the pull he felt when you were around, the force stronger than the gravity holding him to earth.
Intrigue and fascination could not even begin to describe the way he felt about you, and he was in awe of the strength in which he was attracted to you. Your witty comebacks and sharp tongue would make a lesser man cower, but it only seemed to draw him in further. Normally, when he brought girls back to his apartment, he struggled with the never ending mediocrity. It all seemed the same to him, and in the morning, he could not get them home fast enough. When he woke to you next to him in bed, he dreaded the thought of you walking away, partially because he feared you would never return.
For a man desperate to avoid attachment, he was aching at the idea of you showing him disinterest. Your refusal to acknowledge his attempts to know you only seemed to fuel him further. The usual game of cat and mouse he played was too easy, and much too predictable. The challenge you were giving him was so much different than what he was used to that he could not seem to turn it down. He was determined to make you fall for his charm, and in turn, he was making himself fall for you. Neither of you wanted a relationship, but after only a single night, you could not possibly comprehend being without each other.
He removed his tongue from you, unable to resist the urge to watch your face contort into an expression of pleasure. He brought his hand to you instead, placing his thumb on your clit in replace of his mouth and adding his fingers to you. In the darkness of his kitchen when he last had the opportunity to serve you, he did not get the chance to admire you in the way he hoped. He made sure to closely study the way your eyebrows knitted together when his thumb applied pressure, and especially the way your lips parted when his fingers curled inside of you. The way your hair framed your rosy cheeks was irresistible, and his name imbedded on your tongue was the most heavenly sound he ever had the honour of hearing.
“Cum for me, angel?” He whispered, his tone gravelly and laced with desire. His eyes flickered to your free hand, clasping the sheet in a firm embrace. Then, his gaze moved to your chest that was rising and falling with your laboured breathing, his shirt splayed across your skin perfecting the sight before him. “Come on, baby.” He encouraged, a glimmer of hope twinkling in his eye.
“Fuck, Jake.” You whimpered, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the intense storm that was coming. The muscles in your abdomen were rigid, bracing your body with support as the pressure steadily increased in the pit of your stomach. “God, please don’t stop.” You pleaded.
“Never,” it was more than a promise; it was a law that he would forever abide by. He wished to please you until he breathed his very last breath, and in death, he hoped he could continue doing it even then. Your legs began to tremble, no nerve ending spared from the pleasure he was granting you. A thin layer of sweat formed over your forehead as your heart thudded against your rib cage. When you descended into the orgasm, you faced the harrowing realization that a sober orgasm from Jake was worlds apart from a drunken one. In a sick twist of fate, it was even more earth shattering than any of the ones given to you the night prior.
As you came down from the high, nearly delirious from his hand still gently working at you, he watched you intently. He wondered if he could stay in the moment long enough to sear the memory into the forefront of his mind for the rest of eternity. When your eyes fluttered open to meet his, he wondered if you felt the same way about him. After a moment of silent conversation, he knew you did.
“That’s my girl.” He fawned over your exquisite performance, completely immersed in every small detail you had to offer. A rush of heat flooded your face, his words taking you by surprise. The possessive claim would have been unwanted from anyone else, but somehow it was all you wanted to hear from him. “I could do this all day if you’d let me.” He admitted, already desperate to start again.
“I think that would be okay.” You admitted, still flustered from the moment. You felt incredibly exposed in the daylight, unable to hide any part of yourself from him. Even if your anxiety was eating away at you, fearful he might not find you as attractive without alcohol and dimly lit rooms, he still seemed to look at you like you were the prettiest thing to walk the earth. You still did not want to allow yourself to feel special, because you knew that it was part of his motive to convince you of such, but it was becoming more difficult as time went on. If he acted this way with every girl he brought home, he would not have the time or energy to be so immersed in you. If he did, there would be hundreds of women knocking down his door to see him again, and unfortunately, you knew that now, you would be one of them.
“Yeah?” He smirked, shocked that you admitted to your own enjoyment. “Sure you don’t want to go home?” You rolled your eyes at him, knowing that he was only trying to get under your skin.
“I’m in no hurry.” You promised, finally feeling your skin calm from the tingling of your last orgasm.
“That’s good, because I wasn’t really planning on letting you leave.” He admitted. “Makes my job easier.”
“So you just thought you could keep me here forever?” You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.
“I would if I could.” There was no hint of a joke in his tone. “We’d have so much fun together, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know if I could handle it. You get on my nerves a little too much. I might go insane, and I don’t think that would be very much fun.” You joked, relaxing back into the mattress.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He chuckled. “Scared to admit you really do like me, angel?”
“Can’t be scared of something that’s not true, can I?” You sighed, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. No matter if you thought he was the best thing to ever grace the earth, you wouldn’t be caught dead by saying it aloud.
“I’ll get you to say it eventually, sweetheart.” His rebuttal was effortless, and your rejection did not phase him.
“Whatever you say-“ you were cut off, completely distracted from your comment by his mouth connecting with your cunt once again. “Fuck,” you hissed, immediately thrown back into pleasure. He hummed against you, a final taunt before he continued with his tirade. He knew you liked him, and he knew he made you feel good. Although it was nice to hear the words, he did not need you to say them to know his effect on you.
He was working at you with intent, but you were not sure exactly what it was. You wondered if his goal was to get you to admit that you liked him, or to prove himself to you in hopes you would think he was worthy of being liked. He did not want you to feel like your entanglement was a waste of your time, and he wanted you to come back. You knew that much for certain, yet somewhere within his desperation, you sensed that he needed to prove to himself all of the same things.
There was no doubt that he was self-assured, but something about your careless attitude seemed to make him second guess it. He knew he could make you feel good, but it puzzled him to see your hesitation in admitting it. He knew you liked the sex, but perhaps he was more concerned with you liking his character. For the first time in his life, he felt the need to impress you in a further context rather than just sexually. He wanted you to like him so much that you could not even imagine what life was like before him.
The game was dangerous, but the reward was far beyond anything he could ever imagine.
He continued pumping his fingers into you, curling them slightly to hit the sensitive spot he’d grown so familiar with. His mouth was focused on your clit, his lips suctioned around it as he tried to coax another orgasm from you. “God, that feels so good, baby.” You moaned, your head filled with nothing but filthy, frivolous thoughts about him. The pet name was music to his ears, but it left him wondering if the only time you were willing to be nice was while he was having sex with you. Either way, it did not bother him, for he also felt that violence at your hands would be the most pleasant experience he’d ever had.
Your insults sounded more like compliments than any sweet words from another. He was addicted to your hostility in the same way that you depend on a substance; he knew it was unhealthy, but it felt too good to give it up. He feared that a day without it would be worse than death itself. You were both reliant on each other in a way that was more intense than you could comprehend. The relationship was driven by lust and had no promise of anything more, but it was enough. The desire shared between the two of you was stronger than what appeared in most marriages, and it seemed like it was permanent. It was so strong that you had unintentionally engaged in your second deadly sin just hours after the first.
Gluttony had become you both; the lust had pushed you so close to insanity that you couldn’t help but indulge in the sinful desires. You could not repent from what you had done, and salvation was no longer a possibility. If not for the need of food and water, you could have stayed wrapped up in each other until your very last breath had passed you by. The thought of turning to dust while still remaining in the intimate display was comforting, and you knew that a happier death was not plausible. Living out the rest of your life engaged in any type of sexual pleasure with Jake was enticing, and your only complaint would be that it would never be enough.
Your hands gripped at the sheets, holding yourself to the bed in fear that the pleasure would become so intense that you would float away in a cloud of euphoria. The noises coming from your mouth were pornographic, settling deep in the foundation of the walls and claiming yet another room in his home with vulgar memories. He would never be able to rid you from the place, even if he dedicated the rest of his life to forgetting. Your stomach was burning with an insatiable fire, and as he continued, he did nothing but encourage it with gasoline.
With one last stutter of his name, pleasure washed over you like never before. Stars danced in your eyes as your hand reached out for him, tangling in his hair. He held you to him, soothing the incessant shaking of your legs as he helped you through the climax. When you started to come down, he did not slow his movements. The warmth and persistent pace of his tongue was normally heavenly, yet the longer he continued, the more irritating it became. You did not have time to recover from the pleasure, and you made your first attempt at shying away from his touch.
His hands locked on your hips ensured you could not get away, but you were putting up a pathetic fight. Even the overstimulating feeling could not bother you enough to want to leave his grip. “Jake, please slow down.” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut in response to the irritating sting. But, even your protest was weak, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted him to stop. He moved his head back, slipping his thumb in place to keep up the momentum, but it was enough to give you a break so you could gather your thoughts.
“Colour?” He asked, his eyes locked in on your face. Your entire body was ablaze with an unfamiliar feeling, but you could not seem to will yourself to tell him to stop. Instead, a choked moan sounded in response to his question. “Colour, angel.” He demanded, needed verbal clarification before pushing you any further.
“Green.” You confirmed, the word rushing out in a harsh tone.
“Stubborn little thing.” He couldn’t help but smirk at your unwillingness to give up. He liked it more than he cared to admit. Without any further conversation, he returned his tongue to you and continued his earlier pace.
“Fuck,” you groaned, finally feeling the pressure start to rise again. You were far beyond reality, now living in a dreamlike state that consisted of only Jake. He was everywhere, everything and all that mattered. Your hips bucked forward against his tongue, the movement unintentional yet unavoidable. Your body was following his command, and you had little say in what it chose to do. He let out a hum of pleasure at the thought of you coming undone again, knowing that he would never be able to chase a high similar to the one he got from pleasing you.
With one last lingering thought of the boy with his head nestled between your thighs, your entire body tensed in response to the euphoric state you descended into. In a mess of moans and curses, his name lingered in the air; you had sung it like a hymn to the world, and you were certain that if his neighbours cared to listen, they would only be jealous that they could not experience whatever you were feeling. He withdrew from you a bit prematurely, so amazed by your beautiful noises that he could not stop himself from admiring you once again. In a split second of fear, he thought he might come undone from the sight alone.
When you came down, you were exhausted from the energy you had exerted during your performance. You caught his gaze, feeling your stomach twist with pleasure at the sight of his lust-blown pupils. “You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, still trying to catch his own breath. Another flood of arousal rushed straight to your core, and you began to realize that you would never be able to satisfy the craving for him. You reached out to him, settling your hand on the back of his neck. In one swift movement, you sat up at the same time as you pulled him towards you, capturing him in a heated kiss. The sex was phenomenal, yet you couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.
When he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, you knew that you had found exactly what you were looking for. Everything about him was irresistible, yet somehow, his kiss seemed the most deadly of all. It was so simple, a pleasure you could indulge in without the weight of any shame or emotion. “Fuck me, please.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands roaming every available inch of him.
“How could I say no to you?” He asked, parting from you to look over your face. You gave him a small smile, your cheeks tinged red from the excitement and the sweet tone of his voice. With little struggle, he slipped his sweatpants off and discarded them on the floor. You settled back into your earlier position, ecstatic about what was to come next. He took post between your legs again, but did not rush himself. He let his hands drift over your hips, slowly bringing them up your sides as he slipped them underneath the fabric of the shirt still resting on you.
You lifted your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head. With a lazy smile, he threw it over his shoulder, pleased to have access to the rest of you. “Gorgeous little thing, too.” He said, adding on to his earlier comment. You hated that his words had such a profound effect on you. Comments on your appearance always held little value to you, but when they were coming from his mouth, it was completely intoxicating. “You want me to fuck you, angel?”
“Yes, please.” You nodded, watching his eyes drift over your now exposed chest. He was looking at you similarly to how a predator would watch its prey, his expression nearly feral at the thought of what was in front of him.
“How bad?” He asked, dusting his fingers over your thigh. You debated whether to answer, knowing that it was the most effective way to get what you wanted, yet feeling like begging was just a little too far. As he waited for a response, he guided your leg around his waist, keeping a light hold on it for some extra support. “How bad do you want it, sweetheart?” He asked again, his tone more pressing. You held his gaze, not arguing with him, yet showing clear disobedience to his words. “Don’t be like that, baby.” He warned.
“What if I don’t want to beg?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him only slightly.
“You’re going to be a brat, now? After I was so good to you?” There was a small smile on his lips; you hadn’t truly bothered him, but the playful banter had thrown him off.
“Just asking.” You shrugged, but you couldn’t deny the throbbing between your legs. You would beg for him until your lungs collapsed, because you knew he was the only one who could do the job right.
“I bet that you wouldn’t want to find out.” He promised, his fingers tightening on you ever so slightly. He leaned down, taking his free arm and hooking underneath your other leg. In one swift motion, he pulled it up to your chest as he leaned down. His lips were hovering over your own as he waited for your rebuttal. The position had changed your mind, and with him so close to giving you what you needed, you could not seem to resist it. “Now, asked you a question. I want to hear you fucking beg for it, angel.” You shuddered at the strength of his tone, his words having more of an impact than any ones that came before. “How bad do you want me?” He asked again, his tone of voice lethal and clearly telling you that it was not up for discussion.
“So bad,” you squeaked, enthralled in the firm grip he had on you. It was making it hard to think about anything else. “Please, Jake. I need you to fuck me.”
“That’s better.” He hummed, thrilled about your cooperation. You could feel him resting against your entrance, driving you insane the longer he waited.
“Please, baby, I’ll be so good for you. I promise.” You upped your game, realizing that your argument had only made him less willing to give you any satisfaction. Even if he wanted you, he found more enjoyment in watching your desperation.
“Yeah? You want to be a good little whore for me?” He asked, moving his hips forward only slightly, just to give you taste of what you could have if you continued doing as you were told. You nodded, giving a hum of agreement to his statement. “You better mean it, angel. I don’t like being lied to.”
“I mean it.” You promised, eyes already rolling back in your head at the thought of him fucking you. It was such a powerful idea that it made your brain short-circuit if you thought about it for too long. Without any further hesitation, he pushed himself inside of you. He adjusted his grip on your leg, making sure it was secure before he started to rock his hips. You locked your other leg around him, hoping that if you mustered enough strength, it would keep him there forever.
You were already teetering on the edge, your body exhausted from the earlier rounds of pleasure. His hips were slow, but moving at a force that made your head spin and your stomach tie itself in knots. He was worked up, too, the drawn out teasing taking a toll on him just as much as it had on you. “Does that feel good, baby?” He said, eyes burning with desire. His stare was locked on your face, unwilling to miss a single second of your pleasure-ridden expression.
“You feel so good, sir.” You muttered, feeling a jolt of electricity every time the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. It was addicting, intoxicating, and it was completely unfair that he could make you feel so fantastic. When you looked up at him, you had to blink twice to be sure that the devil horns were just a figment of your imagination. Once again, the shadows remained on the wall as a gruesome deception, leading you to believe you had made a mistake that would haunt you for the rest of time.
“You take it so good,” he said, yet his words filled the air with more resemblance to a growl. “Being such a good girl for me.” The praise settled in your chest like lead, weighing you down and forging a tie between yourself and his bed. You could not escape, but you did not care; it was so fantastic that you never wanted to leave, anyway. The usually empty spot on his mattress now belonged to you, and no other could ever replace you. The filthy acts you willingly took part in ensured that the curse of your relationship was infinite. No matter if he burned the mess of fabric and springs in hopes of purging you from his life, the next one he placed in the same spot would still have your name meticulously sewn into the seams.
He leaned down, capturing you in a kiss as his hips continued with their relentless motion. Your hands reached for his neck, holding him to you as his skin burned into your own. The two of you had become one being; two separate entities that shared a single heartbeat and survived off the same breath. Two souls that had been lost for so long finally meeting in a glorious reunion, finding home within the similar resonance and shared heartache. You were two completely different people, yet found comfort in the striking similarities of your closed off hearts, speaking clearly to each other in the only way in which you knew how to communicate.
You were not in love with each other, and it was unlikely that you ever would be, yet the relationship between you was stronger than anything love could produce; it was a profound understanding of the very things that had always been so misunderstood by others. It was a mutual agreement that love and dating was overrated, and you could find more enjoyment in friendship with the benefits of sexual intimacy. Neither of you cared to fall in love, and it was the very thing that drove you to each other. The sinful indulgence of your current situation was not voluntary, but rather a necessity after searching so long for something you thought you might never find.
“Can you cum for me, angel?” He asked, his lips barely parted from your own. You caught his eye, the crazed nature so powerful that it was nearly off putting. He needed you to orgasm in the same way he needed food or water; it was a requirement of survival, and he feared that if he went any longer without it, he may never recover. And so the term of endearment sounded again, just like the hundred other times he let it slip since he first laid eyes on you. He thought you were too ethereal to be human, but only in an essence of holiness. You thought he was too enchanting to be of the mortal realm, yet it was painfully apparent that it was in every way other than godly. His power was wicked, and the strength was only gifted to him for the intent of evil.
“God, yes.” You groaned, tangling your fingers in his hair once again. You were holding him as if you were afraid he would get away. The desperation was something new, and in his opinion, it looked incredibly good on you.
“Cum on my cock, baby.” He encouraged, trying his best to keep his movements steady. He was barely able to hold himself back, but he was determined to get you there, first. The sound of his words sent a shiver down your spine, and the pressure in your stomach reached a peak. You let out a gasp, your hands falling to rest on his back as your entire body descended into euphoria. Your nailed scratched at his skin, but you mind was not able to comprehend the potential injury you could have caused him. Instead, it was flooded with vile thoughts about all you were willing to do for Jake just to ensure he would keep making you feel good.
The state you were in was too much for him to handle, and his own orgasm came as you began to come down from the high. He had only enough strength to mutter your name before his thoughts trailed off into a slur of curses. After a few seconds, he slowed his hips to a stop. He loosened his grip on your leg and gently let it fall back to the mattress. He heaved a long sigh, his body still trembling from the intensity of the climax as he pulled you in to another kiss. When he parted, he rested his head on your chest but made no attempt to leave.
You melted into the touch, savouring the small moment of innocent intimacy. You let your fingers trace over the skin in which your nails has irritated, hoping that it hadn’t caused him any discomfort. You cared little for the formalities that normally came after such phenomenal sex, yet the moment you were sharing with him was deeply profound and so sweet that you could not deny your enjoyment. “I didn’t know sex could be so good.” You sighed, closing your eyes as you ran your fingers through the knotted strands of his hair. You could feel a smile growing on his face, not needing to see him to know how smug he looked at your confession.
“Seems like you’ve been wasting your time on the wrong guys.” He said, his fingers lightly tickling the soft skin on your thigh.
“Insinuating I’m wasting my time with you, too?” You joked, using your free hand to trace lazy shapes into his bicep.
“Do you think I’m a waste of your time?” He asked, unfazed by your response. You thought about it for a moment before giving him an answer.
“No,” honesty was heavy in the air “I don’t think you’re a waste of my time at all.”
“That’s good.” He said, placing a small kiss to your chest, happy to hear that you were happy.
“I think your coffee’s cold, now.” You giggled, casting a sideways glance to the mug sitting on his nightstand.
“Fuck the coffee.” He muttered. “That was well worth the waste of five bucks.” You laughed at his words, finding his charm so devastatingly beautiful. You hated that you liked him, and you hated that you couldn’t seem to convince yourself to dislike him.
“Five dollars for a single cup? Didn’t realize you had such expensive taste.” You said, feeling the warmth of his body nearly lulling you back to sleep.
“I have you in my bed, don’t I?” He replied without missing a beat. Your cheeks heated with a blush, which you had found you were doing an embarrassingly amount of since being in his company. “You want to go get cleaned up?” He asked, finally raising his head from the comfortable position he’d found himself in. You gave a nod, both of you knowing that a mess would be had if you waited any longer. Reluctantly, he withdrew from you, helping you from the bed and to the bathroom. You both cleaned up in silence, neither of you feeling the need to continue a conversation. When you finally had a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, you were shocked at the sight.
Your hair was wild, and old makeup still lingered under your eyes. Hickeys littered your flushed skin and finger shaped bruises decorated your hips. There was no doubt that your weekend full of excitement was written all over you, and in some strange way, you were happy to have the reminder. You knew when you inevitably laid down to sleep in your own bed later that night, you would miss the feeling of his hands on you. “You can take a shower, if you want.” He said, noticing your lingering gaze on the mirror. “I don’t mind.” He promised, brushing the stray hairs from your face and tucking them behind your ear.
“Yeah, only if you don’t mind.” You nodded, the idea more tempting than anything you’d ever heard.
“Of course.” He said, stepping towards the shower and flicking on the faucet. “Take your time.” He dusted his hand over your lower back as a way to reassure you he was being truthful. He didn’t mind your company in the slightest, and delaying your return home had been his intent all morning.
“Thank you.” You sighed, already drawn in by the steam billowing over the shower curtain. He gave a nod, leaving you to do what you pleased.
You stepped in the shower, feeling the warm water wash away the ache in your muscles, although it could not come close to cleansing you from the godless activities you had so willingly done. After a few moments of enjoyment, you searched around the bottles of shampoo and soaps. You weren’t sure how you felt about going home smelling just like your mindless hookup from the bar, but once you opened the bottle and the familiar scent hit your nose, the idea seemed enticing. You washed your hair and your body, taking your time with it before rinsing yourself clean. When you stepped out, you felt like an entirely new woman.
On the counter sat a neatly folded stack of clothes topped with a towel. A flutter of unfamiliar feelings rose in your stomach, catching you off guard and making you turn your nose up at your own emotions. You shook off the moment of uncertainty, reaching out to grab the towel and then you wrapped it around yourself. You dried off before taking to the clothes he had left for you and dressing yourself. When you broke into the kitchen, you heard the soft hum of music and the clatter of dishes. Your eyes landed on Jake, shirtless and in sweatpants once again, immersed in the song playing over his record player as he was turned to face the stove.
“That better not be breakfast.” You warned.
“Would you give it up about the fucking breakfast thing?” He laughed, looking back over his shoulder at you. The playful expression broke you from your fear momentarily. “It wouldn’t be breakfast now, sweetheart. It’s lunch, and you never gave me any rules about lunch.”
“Seems like you’re doing whatever you can to bend the rules.” You raised an eyebrow, walking to the counter and hoisting yourself up on the countertop. He took a few steps towards you, temporarily ignoring the food cooking on the stove. He settled between your legs, his hands finding your hips with little hesitation.
“I wouldn’t be a very good host if I wasn’t concerned with your comfort.” He said, his face leaning dangerously close to your own. “And if I remember correctly, we didn’t lay down any particular rules.”
“I’ll let it slide, but don’t make it a habit.” You warned, a smile tugging at your lips. Even when he was doing something that irked you, you felt compelled to enjoy it.
“Can’t you just appreciate someone being nice to you?” He asked, raising a hand to your cheek and gently cupping it in his palm.
“Just don’t want you getting the wrong idea.” You explained, pulling him in a little further.
“No need to doubt me, angel.” He said, his nose brushing over your own. “Love’s got nothing to do with it.”
“Right,” you agreed, giving a slight nod of your head. “Absolutely nothing to do with it.” You felt the need to cement the notion even further, just to ensure he knew the extent of your seriousness.
“Just two friends eating together,” he played into you, smiling once again. It seemed like the only thing he knew how to do when you were around.
“Reluctantly, at that.” You said, hoping he would lean forward and close the gap between your mouths.
“Stop pretending you hate me; you know that it’s not true.” He scolded, but his tone was incredibly soft. “We make fantastic friends, sweetheart, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
“Friends is being generous.” You tightened your grip on him again, drawn in further by the warmth of his skin. “We’re really good at fucking each other. Don’t know if we can call ourselves friends, yet.”
“We are really good at that, aren’t we?” He reminisced on the memory fondly, his eyes glazing over with a yearning so strong it nearly brought him to his knees. “Give the friends thing a few more days, I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
“Whatever you say, Jacob.” You hummed, finished with making conversation with him. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his own in a moment of weakness. His hand drifted to the back of your neck, holding you to him as he responded with enthusiasm. His hand on your hip tightened, already enticed with the idea of sex again. You could not resist each other; the tension in the air was astounding whenever you shared the same space.
You were so immersed in each other that you did not even notice the food beginning to overcook in the frying pan, nor did you hear the opening of his front door. It was only when an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind you did either of you realize the carelessness of your actions.
“Jesus, are you trying to burn the place down?” The words sent a rush of fear through you, forcing you away from Jake with the same intensity of a child getting caught misbehaving. Jake recognized the tone immediately, rolling his eyes at the interruption.
“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath, giving your hip a gentle squeeze as he turned towards the disturbance. “Ever think of knocking?”
“I did, twice.” The boy stated, shutting off the stove and moving the pan to a cooler section of the surface.
“And when I didn’t answer you thought you should just… let yourself in?” Jake asked, casting a sideways glance at you to make sure you were okay. Aside from the blush on your cheeks and your racing heart, you almost found the situation comical. You had never been one to stress under any type of pressure.
“I have a key for a reason.” He shrugged, turning back to face the two of you. “Glad I did, though. Saved the fire department a trip over here.” The sassiness was astounding, and you thought it was hilarious. You recognized the boys face from the picture Jake had shown you the night before, and you were thrilled to see that his twin brother seemed to be a perfect match for Jake’s strong personality. They appeared to balance each other out, similar to the way the sun and the moon would for each other. The two seemed to be caught in a staring contest, housing a silent conversation with their eyes. After a moment, Josh made a move to speak again. “Are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend, or will I have to do that, too?”
“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend.” You cut him off, shaking your head at the thought. “Friends.” You clarified, knowing that the incriminating scene he walked in on was not backing your statement up. Josh laughed at your quick delivery, but understood what you were saying.
“Okay,” he nodded, a smile on his lips. “A friend who happens to be a girl?” He offered, raising an eyebrow.
“I like that better.” You nodded. “I’m y/n.”
“Josh.” He replied, looking between you and his brother. “Sorry for interrupting, I just live next door. Didn’t know he still had company.” He bit down on his lip, trying to stifle his laugh.
“No need to apologize,” you shook your head “think I was just getting ready to head home, anyway.” Jake visibly tensed at your words, angry at his brother for potentially being the reason he could not keep you there with him all day.
“Eat first,” Jake offered, looking back at you “I can take you home afterwards.” You caught his eye, noticing a silent plead for you to agree. You gave him a smile, nodding your head to tell him you would. You noticed him relax at the motion, happy that you felt no need to argue it. “You hungry?” He eyed his brother, extending the formality because he felt required to, not because he wanted to.
“Sure!” He grinned, happy for the invitation. Jake forced a smile as he nodded for the both of you to sit down. You did as he wanted, sliding off the counter and taking a seat at the kitchen table. As your eyes inspected the wood in which you were sat upon the night before, your cheeks burned at the memory and a rush of arousal ran through you once again. “So, Jake’s friend who is a girl but is not his girlfriend,” you looked up to meet Josh’s eyes, broken indefinitely from the vulgar train of thought. “Tell me about yourself.” You studied his face for a moment, finding their similarities astounding. In the picture you had seen, it was easy to tell them apart, but in person, you could really see the familiarity in their expressions.
“So, Jake’s twin brother, what would you like to know?” You asked, flashing a smile.
“He told you about me?” He pretended to gush over the thought.
“He did,” you nodded, laughing at the dramatic expression.
“Where are you from?” He asked.
“Here,” you answered, finding conversations with him much easier than the ones at the bar with his brother. You knew it was only because you were not interested in anything further than friendship with Josh, and you were incredibly invested in Jakes devastatingly beautiful presence. Friendship came easy to you, where as anything further did not, and you knew from the very beginning that Jake was looking to be much more than friends. “I’m a photographer, so when I graduated high school, I started my own little business and never really felt the need to leave.”
“That’s really cool.” He grinned, intrigued by your words. “How’d you end up with him? I know a pretty girl like you must’ve had more options than that.” You laughed at his question, but did not notice the look of daggers Jake shot at his twin.
“He’s alright, actually.” You defended, finding the humour comfortingly similar to your own. You were not shocked to know that Josh was just as charming and beautiful as his brother, yet it still seemed unfair that they had been born with such an advantage. “Guess we just ended up in the right place at the right time.” You shrugged.
“Seems so.” He agreed, watching as Jake handed out plates of food to everyone. Jake couldn’t help but feel jealous at the simplicity of your conversation with Josh. Although he liked the challenge, he was curious as to why you were so much more reserved with him. “Are you a music lover, friend that is a girl?”
“You can call me by name, you know.” You laughed at his question.
“I think I like the nickname better, but I’ll keep that in mind.” He joked.
“I do like music, though.” You nodded. “When your career is art in any form, I think it’s a given to enjoy music.”
“Fair point,” he nodded “any particular type?”
“I’m pretty well versed in all of the genres. My mom had me in piano lessons as soon as I could talk, so I’ve branched out quite a bit over the years.”
“Wait ‘till Sammy gets ahold of you. You’ll never get rid of him.” He laughed, eyeing Jake from the corner of his eye. You didn’t know if you were quite ready to meet the rest of the family, especially considering how abrupt your meeting with Josh was, but knowing that Sam shared a common interest was quite intriguing. You were still opposed to any type of relationship other than casual with Jake, but you were quickly growing fond of his brother. Then again, knowing Jake’s charm so well, you thought it would be impossible to not like the rest of the siblings. It was something he was born with, and you could only assume that the others would have it, too. You hoped that when the day was through, you would get the chance to talk with Josh again. He seemed like someone you would quite like to be friends with. Hopefully, you would eventually get to meet Sam and share your love for piano.
“Piano?” Jake asked, looking up at you. He was curious as to why you hadn’t told him that in your time together, but then again, he never asked. He was beating himself up for not trying harder to know you, because the more he listened to your voice, the more he felt inclined to get you to stay.
“Yeah,” you nodded, giving him a soft smile.
“Fitting.” He returned your expression, slinking his hand to your knee under the table.
“I’m sure Jake’s already made your ears bleed with the guitar, but if you’re more into vocals, I’d be happy to take you over to my apartment so you can get away from him for a while.” Josh teased, clearly only attempting to get under his brothers skin. Jakes gaze darted back to him, a look of anger flashing in his eyes.
“He hasn’t, actually, but I’ll keep that in mind for when he does.” You laughed, finding the brotherly competition funny.
“Really? That’s usually his go to when when’s trying to impress someone.”
“I guess I’ll look forward to it for next time.” You shrugged, making sure to settle Jake’s fears by letting him know you wanted to come back. He visibly relaxed back into his chair, happy to know that Josh had not managed to scare you away. You almost felt special at the knowledge, realizing he did not try to woo you with any of his usual tactics. When he said that you were special the night before, you did not believe him, yet as the time passed, you began to understand he was in fact telling you the truth. You should have known that when he wasn’t rushing you out the door first thing in the morning, but the confirmation was nice and very welcome.
“What about you, brother of the twin kind?” You asked. “Tell me about yourself.”
“There’s not much to say.” He shrugged, chuckling at your term of endearment. “I sing, I like film, and my lifelong goal is to piss him off.”
“Seems like a simple life.” You grinned.
“I enjoy it.” He agreed.
“Speaking of pissing me off, what exactly are you doing here?” Jake asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.
“Oh, I came over to get the drafts of the songs we were working on the other night. Would have came over last night, but I think you were a bit preoccupied.” He giggled. Fear flooded you as you finally realized the extent of what he meant by saying he lived just next door. Your and Jake’s cheeks both tinged red with a blush, embarrassed by your unintentional public display of affection.
“If I give them to you, will you leave?” Jake asked, hoping for him to say yes.
“Sure.” Josh chuckled, finally realizing he may have overstayed his welcome. “Would it be somewhere in the pile of paper on the floor?” He couldn’t help but throw in another light jab, eyes flickering to the scattered items littering the ground.
Jake stood, reaching down and grabbing one of the journals from the mess and tossed it down on the table beside him.
“Yep,” he affirmed the joke, finding no need to lie about it. Your eyes were glued to the floor, though, permanently fixated on a flash of red peeking out from underneath Jake’s foot. Your stomach twisted with anxiety as you realized it was the torn remnants of your underwear he had ruined the night before. Then, a small flutter of adoration filled your chest, realizing he’d been concealing it the entire time to avoid causing you any further embarrassment.
“Guess that’s my cue to leave.” Josh chirped, rising to his feet. “I like her, Jake. You should bring her around more often.” He said, but it sounded more like he was scolding him.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jake nodded, eager to get him out of his apartment.
“It was lovely meeting you, friend of the female genre, who is definitely not a girlfriend.” Josh flashed you a smile. “Hope to see you again.”
“You too, Josh.” You said, honesty radiating from you. You liked him, even if he seemed to come off a bit strong. He seemed like a bubblier version of Jake, who was much less inclined to try and get in your pants and more apt to brighten your mood.
“I’ll leave you be, then.” Josh looked back to his brother, telling him something without even opening his mouth. You almost envied the relationship between them, unable to comprehend knowing someone so well that you could communicate without words. With that, he turned away and walked back to his own apartment. Neither of you spoke a word until after you heard the door shut.
“Sorry about that, sweetheart.” He apologized, his posture relaxing as he took a seat again.
“No need to say sorry, I like him.” You admitted.
“Yeah, you certainly seemed to.” Jake said, a sour smile begging to turn his lips. “Gonna have to ask him what it takes to get you to admit that.”
“Are you jealous, honey?” You teased, almost unbelieving of the emotion in his voice. He rolled his eyes, unwilling to engage in your antics. “I like you too, Jake. A lot, if you haven’t noticed.” You said, realizing it had actually rubbed him the wrong way. Another one of your morals flushed down the drain in a split second decision, yet you didn’t seem to care. “Thanks for hiding the evidence.” You trailed off, looking to the floor at the torn piece of fabric. He looked down, too, almost laughing at the thought. He reached down, grabbing them off the ground before replying.
“Those are only for me to see, angel. I’m not that generous.” With that, he tucked the fabric neatly away in his pocket, flashing you a smile. You were furious at your body for wanting him so desperately, because you were already aching for relief just from his words alone. “You want to head home?” He changed the subject quickly, but his mind was still heavily occupied with the small memory sitting inside the pocket of his sweatpants.
“Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t want to take up too much of your day.” You nodded, yet you were almost saddened at the idea of going home. When you knew there was so much pleasure to be had in his company, being alone was lacklustre in comparison. “I can change out of these.”
“No, I’ll just grab them another time.” He said, the least bit concerned about getting them back.
“Okay.” You nodded, standing and grabbing your dress that was bunched up and hidden in the corner by the island. Without any further conversation, you made sure you had all of your belongings as he grabbed his car keys.
“Ready?” He asked, also noticing a sinking feeling in his stomach as he came to terms with the ending of your stay. You nodded, allowing him to lead the way outside. He showed you to his car, opening the passenger door for you before getting in himself.
The drive home was mostly silent aside from your occasional directions, yet you did not seem to find it uncomfortable. One of his hands was firmly clasped around the steering wheel, and the other was permanently anchored on your thigh. The hum of the radio was soothing as you watched the city go by through the tint of his windows. You let your hand rest gently on top of his, not yet comfortable enough to lace your fingers with his, but enough to know that you wanted to keep touching him. You pointed to a driveway just off of a side road, quietly telling him to turn into it. He did as you said, letting his eyes linger over the subtle decoration outside of the house. He smiled at the sight, finding yet another small detail about you that he was enthralled with.
“This is it.” You said, looking out the window at your front porch.
“So it seems.” He nodded, reluctant to pull his hand away from you. You both remained still, neither wanting to leave, and both dreading being the first to say goodbye.
“Thanks for everything. It was nice.” You admitted.
“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.” He assured you. “You should let me put my number in your phone, just in case you want to do it again sometime.” He looked over at you, praying to every higher power that you wouldn’t shoot him down.
“Yeah,” you nodded, happy he mentioned it. If you went inside without his number, you weren’t sure you would ever forgive yourself. You grabbed your phone from your pocket and pulled out your contact list, quickly handing it over to him. He took it, immediately typing in a number before giving it back. You looked down at the nameless number, finding it too impersonal after all you had shared with him over the course of your stay in his apartment. You hit the edit button, typing in just a single emoji; the little purple devil spoke more truth than a nickname ever could.
“Ah, the modern way to refer to a hookup.” He noted, chuckling at your choice of name.
“Exactly.” You agreed, but it was not why you chose it. Yes, he was a hookup that you would certainly be calling late at night, but it had little to do with the nature of your relationship, and everything to do with your judgement of his character. The longer you spent with him, the more you felt like he was the devil sent back to earth just to torture you. You typed in a small message, hitting send and waiting to hear the chime. After a second, his phone rang with your message, prompting a smile on your lips.
“Wanted to make sure I didn’t give you a fake number?” He asked, knowing that the idea was absolutely incredulous.
“Didn’t want to risk it.” You knew he would never have given you a fake phone number in hopes of losing contact with you. Your message served a single purpose, which was delaying your return to your own home. You leaned over, pulling him in for a kiss before bargaining with the thought of getting out of the car. He held you tightly, showing you through his actions that he was feeling exactly the same. “Do you… do you want to come in?” You rushed out, breathless from the kiss and nervous about rejection.
“I was hoping you’d ask.” He sighed, already stuck in a daydream of another night spent beside you, or more specifically, inside of you.
With a new found energy, you both bustled from the vehicle and rushed to the front door, caught in a fit of excited laughter. As you opened the door for him, you did not realize you had effectively opened the gate for him to come in and uproot your entire life. As you locked it behind you, the sin continued with no signs of slowing, now housed behind the four walls of your own home. When the two of you collapsed in a heap of limbs on the mattress, gluttony was bleeding from the walls and dripping down to stain your skin. When his hands ever so gently slipped under your shirt, exposing you to him once more, your second infraction of the capital vices made home in your hearts and stitched itself to the muscle, ensuring you could never escape its morbid fury.
With two already down and only five left to go, you were a fool to think that you would ever recover from the atrocities you had committed just to spend another minute alone in his company.
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