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Rose Garden Pink Vinyl! 🩰🩷
#slut!#slut! taylor’s version#slut! taylor swift#taylor swift#the eras tour#1989 tv#1989 taylor's version#vinyl shipment#taylor swift vinyl
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I'm now a proud owner of Angst in My Pants by Sparks on vinyl.
I have Angst in My Pants by Sparks on vinyl.
#i did wait... quite a bit for the shipment#but omg#im soooo happy#sparks band#sparks#russell mael#ron mael#angst in my pants#vinyl collection#vinyl records
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Listen. Imma need whoever gets ahold of the physical copy first to either take photos of the lyrics booklet and post 'em or just copy them down here PLEASE I'M BEGGING
There's only so much deciphering I can do and I also just need the official, confirmed versions asap 🥺
#currently dealing with the album being unavailable in my country except for one place that inflated the price RIDICULOUSLY#& shipping from other places... just isn't worth it. I'm sorry I won't be spending the money I can put towards another record on postage#I still have too much I want to add to my collection so I need to be smart about this#I'll wait this one out and purchase it once the vinyl shops here get their act together#ANYWAY#to the lucky ones who can just pop into a store or maybe just got the shipment out yesterday PLEASE PLEASE HELP#//#One Man Band#Miles Kane#screaming and adding actual coherent functional tags later#my posts
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The top exporters of vinyl chloride were United States, China, France, Germany, and Japan and the top importers of vinyl chloride were India, Germany, China, Turkey, and Italy. Download vinyl chloride export import data here.
#Vinyl Chloride Export Import Data#Vinyl Chloride Buyers Suppliers Details#Vinyl Chloride Exporters Importers Details#Vinyl Chloride Custom Data#Vinyl Chloride Shipment Data
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NEW PRODUCTS ALERT !! >:3
pls consider supporting me by browsing or sharing, thank you!! 🙏
see product pages for more details on each item !! the new vinyl stickers are PRE-ORDER ONLY; there are no product pictures or shipment of these items until they are produced in about 2–3 weeks!
FOR ANYONE GOING TO TFCON BALTIMORE:
please let me know in the order notes or via dms after your purchase if you are going to tfcon baltimore 2024 and who your favorite canon tf character is! i will deliver your package to you at the convention with a small sketch included :)
#i will have to put a rush order on the stickers bc i am cutting it EXTREMELY close to tfcon 😳#if i dont make it in time i apologize. pls keep an eye on my socials in 2 weeks time for if that happens!#tf one#spoilers#sentinel prime#blitzbee#maccadam#vart#(btw the more u spend the better ur tfcon sketch will be 💅)
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ch. 1 - grievances and clay m.list
the sun's rays permeate the shop's front window. it lingers in the room as the dust particles float throughout. you stare at the clay bowl in front of you. something about it seems off; the rim looks a little wavy, maybe there's not enough space at the bottom of the bowl. although grabbing out your measuring tape and your template don't seem to reveal either of those issues.
even when you stare intently at it, your elbows resting on your knees, hands clasped in front of you, you can't see it. it looks so different and yet so similar to that of the other bowls. biting your lip, you stuff your earbuds in and let the nearly deafening song block out everything that's distracting you.
the light construction on the front of the store, the people lining up for onigiri miya, your lousy morning when trying to park. everything culminates into a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as you push the wheel's pedal. it spins rapidly and you can finally see what the issue is, the base of the bowl is slightly too large.
to most, it wouldn't be noticeable, especially if they only saw this one. however, you can't help but immediately wet your hands and run them up the inside and outside of the bowl. pushing in slightly, you bob your head to the music, letting your free foot tap aimlessly against the vinyl flooring.
this moment, this morning routine is the only thing keeping you together right now. even with the slip on your forehead, drops on the floor that need cleaning, and the mess on your clothes, it's the greatest thing you've ever learned to do. it's relaxing (sometimes) and gives you a chance to think things over, it's your alone time-
just as you find yourself happy with the bowl, someone's knocking at the back door. your eyebrows furrow slightly, gaze flickering to the clock. it's ten o'clock, your shipment of a new wheel was supposed to be coming. you groan slightly, shaking your head. you don't even have time to remove the bowl from the wheel as you rush for the door.
you pull out your earbuds, setting them on a nearby table. pretty much everything within the shop has dried clay on it, another deep cleaning day coming. even the door handle has spots of clay on it, more caking on as you open the door, "hello?"
"yeah, i'm here with your shipment, i've been told we need to bring it inside. this is the correct address for the pottery wheel, yes?"
"yeah it is, thank you. i almost forgot it was coming in this morning!" you try to laugh off your poor time management, your smile falling as the delivery man keeps his stubborn frown in the same space.
"okay, haru, let's get that wheel out.." he grumbles to his younger coworker, slowly walking to the back of the moving truck.
you bite your lip, taking in the fresh air. some mornings you get in at five and stay there until the end of the day. stepping outside and smelling food cooking, hearing the birds chirp, it is rather comforting. the only thing ruining it is the sound of a drill running. of customers out front raving about the reviews of onigiri miya.
blocking it out some, you look around the back area of the shops, noticing another delivery truck nearby. it's emptying out fresh veggies and stored boxes of what you assume to be meat. you narrow your eyes, not even noticing the man standing beside you. he follows your eye sight and wonders why you're staring at it, his head slightly tilted.
"everything okay?"
"oh yeah- oh.. uh yeah, just wondering what they're delivering for the new restaurant," you barely look at him, not noticing his cap and apron, his arms crossed over his chest.
“you could just ask you know,” he leans towards you slightly, giving you a smile.
only now do you give him a once over. he’s rather tall, his hair hidden from a baseball cap. some grey streaks escape from the bottom of the hat… onigiri miya’s logo embroidered into the front. your eyes open a little wider as you finally look him in his eyes. they’re grey, matching his hair and the monochrome look of his outfit. the only thing sitting out is an old rag on his shoulder.
“oh you work there?”
“i mean, you could say it, it’s my restaurant,” he shrugs his shoulders, looking back at the truck, gaze moving back towards you some, “hi, i’m miya osamu.”
your lips part slightly, a few things running through your mind. firstly, he looks quite young to be owning his own restaurant. secondly, he watched you stare down his ingredients like you’re hardcore judging him. and thirdly, he keeps looking at you like some enigma. a mystery for him to solve and understand.
part of you wants to immediately tell him off for the loud noises and long lines and the odd look. however, a frog gets caught in your throat and attacking him makes your hands sweat, “uh you are? that’s- good for you. i’m l/n y/n, i own the earthen kiln, the pottery shop. i’m surprised you’ve opened your shop before the front is finished.”
“yeah, thank you. due to the costs of improvements, i wanted to get opened quickly,” osamu looks over at you, noticing you looking at your own moving guys, them slowly bringing a large box down from the truck.
“yeah that’s.. understandable. honestly, it can be rather loud at times, the construction and all of the customers. my customers preferred the quiet pace of the last restaurant…” you take in a deep breath, not wanting to make eye contact with your new neighbor.
he nods slowly, unable to tell if you can see or not. osamu understands they’re loud, his customers can definitely hear that, but there isn’t much he can do. not until everything is finished and secure, “right, well they shouldn’t be too much longer. but i should be heading back inside to help finish cooking for the lunch rush.”
“i have a class soon as a well.. just make sure you get your customers to calm down some,” you finally get a good look at his eyes, hoping it comes across as more than just a joke, your tone trying to stay lighthearted.
“you do? well, this may help you look a little more professional,” osamu grabs the rag from his shoulder and bring it up to your forehead, wiping off the clay you had somehow gotten on there, “but of course it’s a pottery class, so that probably doesn’t matter much to them.”
you can feel your heartbeat quicken as he reaches over, his finger touching your hair and upper forehead. however, you can’t help but feel like you could’ve been more assertive. to tell him just how much you dislike the constant noise, how it worries your typical customers for the future. but for now, the joking and unusual interactions will be enough.
a/n: so much happier with this :D hopefully you guys like it taglist: @causenessus @osakis-gf @eggyrocks @brkfclub @marisabel14
@bbybibi @etoiile @miyamoratsumuu @girlokarina @gsyche
@cherrypieyourface @zephestia
#☼༄ my bisque beau#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fic#haikyuu fanfic#hq#hq x reader#hq fanfic#osamu miya fluff#hq osamu#osamu miya x reader#osamu miya#miya osamu#osamu miya x y/n
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sometimes when we put the record shipments away we can hear little kissing noises coming from the boxes. i think the vinyls are making out. i don’t really care though.
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Covet: Chapter 6
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Covet Summary:
Life was good. No, life was great.
Was.
Until.
Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.
You welcomed him into your life—your home.
Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.
Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.
At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smutty smutty smut; talk of Reader's anxiety; drunkenness; New Girl spoilers (if you’ve never watched the show and don’t wanna know things!); absent parent thoughts; heavy petting; oral sex f!receiving; fingering; oral sex m!receiving; unprotected p in v sex; spanking (hehe); Reader is stubborn; Jake is stubborn (if i missed any that may have triggered you, please let me know!!)
Chapter Word Count: 24.5k+ (damn. i'm v sorry lmao)
Covet Masterlist
a/n: welllll, after summer school (that shit really took it out of me), one vacation w my whole fam, two gvf shows with my sis @joshym, an extended vaca in nash (bc we just HAD to!!), and INSANE writer's block....... HERE IS CHAPTER 6! finally! i'm insanely sorry it took so damn long. thank you all for being the fkn B E S T and so understanding and the best gresties/readers a girl could ask for! <3333 ("heart eyes, motherfucker" - that's how i feel about u all :) (also if u remember that vine, ily even more now))
i hope you enjoyyyy ;)
-🌼🌼🌼-
At the beginning of July, you were stacking a shipment of some blues records in a bin at work, your mind in a blank space, which naturally moved you to think of the one person who was seemingly always at the back of your mind.
Jake.
He’d really just taken up residence in your brain, as he had in your home.
He was still on his shit. You know, acting like a pouting child, barely acknowledging you. Even after you’d literally bared yourself to him, pussy out, nipples pebbled in the open air. . .
You blew a breath through your lips, and tucked hair behind both ears, readjusting your thought process.
Now he seemed set on only acting like an ass after your time in the cramped bathroom had been cut short. Before, he’d taken the time to still seek you out. After the incident in your bedroom, he’d literally shown up at the B&G, begging you to come see him.
Were you just not worth it to him anymore?
You rolled your eyes to yourself, focusing on stuffing records in the bin alphabetically.
It. Didn’t. Matter. He didn’t matter.
Really.
And you knew he didn’t matter because it wasn’t hard for you when you finally decided to play into his behavior—his little game. You didn’t stop yourself when you started to match his energy. It was easy to act as though you didn’t care about him.
Because you didn’t.
All you really needed was to satisfy that itch and then—then, you’d be good.
But as you came across a re-release of a Howlin’ Wolf record, you suddenly became slightly disheartened at the thought of it all. What if this wasn’t a game for him? What if he was actually so upset that he just decided you weren’t worth it? Would you ever get as close as you had at the gig again? Did he still want you like he had in the bathroom that night? Or in your bed the night before Baby’s?
You shivered as you (once again) thought of his hardened dick pressed up against your leg. You could hear his voice, low and sultry.
“That’s what you do to me.”
Fuck. Did you still do that to him? You hoped so.
Then there was the feeling of him pressing into you, your bare ass on the cold ceramic of the sink, leaning your body into him, craving more—so close.
God.
You frustratedly groaned and shoved the vinyl in its place and shook your head. It didn’t matter. Really. But you couldn’t help your heart falling at the idea of him not wanting you like you wanted him.
All you could do was hope that he still wanted it—wanted you, like he had before.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You'd also started July deciding that in order to keep some sense of dignity, it would be best to not go see Jake perform. Especially if it was possible he’d completely closed himself off the idea of you.
It was humiliating to be a try hard.
You would distance yourself from that part of his life, if he was going to ignore you and distance himself in your shared home.
Did you want to see him play again? Hell freakin’ yes. It had been such an intimate experience that first night. You’d felt so privileged to witness it the way you had then, up close to share his emotions as he played, holding his eyes almost any time he’d looked up at you. You’d been taking in every flick of his fingers, every thrust into the back of his guitar, the concentration on his sweaty face . . . and he’d wanted you to watch. He’d wanted you there, in that moment, with him.
You could still see him clear as day, tanned skin glowing in the B&G, his eyes golden in the evening sun, pleading with you. . .
“I really want you there.”
When you’d gone to their last shows in June, all you wanted was to feel that way again. Connected to him. Close to him. You wanted it so badly—but it seemed he didn’t want it anymore. He hadn’t looked at you once during any of the shows. To be fair, you had been standing so far towards the back that it’s possible he hadn’t even known you were there. But, he hadn’t even tried to seek you out to ask you to come like he had before (if it really was possible he thought you weren’t there).
Things were just different than before.
So, yeah. It was best that you didn’t go. You didn’t want to seem desperate or possibly annoy him with your presence just in case he did see you at a show. You’d made up your mind that it was obvious he didn’t want you there. He wanted things like they currently were.
And it wasn’t so much that it hurt to have him act so aloof and absent and uncaring. It didn’t hurt. Really. You’d tried to convince yourself that he was just making you angry. Nothing more.
So, you just continued to play his game however well you could. It wasn’t that important.
Though, any time he left the apartment, looking deliciously ready for a performance, all you wanted to do was follow. But instead, all you’d actually do was look at him from wherever he passed you in the apartment. You’d glare at him, matching his pissy behavior as long as he continued to show it.
But you’d eventually noticed that his eyes weren’t always holding irritation when he passed you. . .sometimes, you could have sworn his eyes held more longing than anything.
Although, as soon as you’d think you saw it, he was already gone. And you would eventually decide that you’d imagined it.
You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if it was possible that underneath his moodiness he did still want you?
All you wanted was to understand what he was feeling.
-🌼🌼🌼-
So, after not going to their shows for the first couple weeks of July, Josh had finally reached out on the night of one, asking if you’d come because he ‘missed seeing you’.
You initially wanted to send a text back that said: ‘No, sorry. Your brother sucks and I’m mad at him right now. And if I go all I’ll want to do is fuck him senseless after watching him play, even though he probably doesn’t want that at all. So, I have to decline.’
But, then you guiltily started thinking of how you needed to support your best friend and the other two guys. It was incredibly rude of you to not go see Josh, Sam, and Danny do their thing simply because Jake was a pain in the ass that you couldn’t figure out.
You wanted to support your friends. Support Josh.
So that’s why you ended up texting an ‘Of course! What time?’ in response.
And as you got ready that night, you pulled on a cropped Cream T-shirt, thinking momentarily of your roommate. Would he like it if he saw it? Or would it piss him off?
Pushing it out of your mind, you focused on how excited you were now, the idea of getting to see them live again.
The guys put on a helluva show; they were absolutely magnificent, so magnetic.
Once you felt totally ready to go, you secured an Uber to pick you up, already planning to have a few drinks to ease your mind at the show.
As you put your shoes on, you thought. . . The thing that made you most excited really wasn’t seeing the band perform again as a whole. It wasn’t even the thought of seeing Josh. It was getting to simply be near Jake again, pathetic as it may sound. And the thought of seeing him play again. . . Fuck. Watching him was so enticing. He was like a drug. . .always drawing you in.
There was no denying the way your stomach fluttered at the thought of watching him perform again. Because even though he was pissing you off and you had no earthly clue how in the hell he was feeling, watching him perform was unlike any adrenaline rush you’d ever experienced.
(Save for the feeling of your blood pumping erratically at the feeling of him tucked between your legs. That was a feeling unlike anything else.)
-🌼🌼🌼-
Like you had at shows before, you sat at the back to witness the performance.
It had been great, per usual. Jake had left you wanting him from your seat. And just like it had been at the shows in June, he never failed to make you feel incredibly stupid for stopping things in the bathroom the night of their first show.
Yet now, while they performed their encore, you hadn’t left the venue like you normally did. You hadn’t tried to get the hell out of dodge.
No, tonight, you stood at the outdoor bar area connected to the back of the venue. It was set in a huge space covered in bright green turf, a small patio with a couple of tables, and plenty of Edison bulb string lights to set the cool mood of the place.
There were even a couple of ping pong tables and a cornhole game set up for people to play at. A random sporting event was drawing in a few college-aged men, on a giant flat screen TV.
Although, unlike those men, it wasn’t your choice to be hanging out in the open area. You had wanted to avert to your normal plan of leaving to go home with a quick ‘proud of you!’ text to Josh.
You wanted to avoid Jake seeing you at all costs. But Josh had inadvertently seen to it that you wouldn’t get away with that plan again.
He’d apparently caught onto your little trick. Before you could begin to type a text, and before they’d even come out for their encore, Josh had sent a text. Or three.
Josh, 10:23 p.m.: Don’t you dare leave.
Josh, 10:23 p.m.: I really want to see you and give you a hug
Josh, 10:24 p.m.: I don’t see you nearly enough these days and I miss you dearly and I really want to have just one drink with you after the show. Pleeeeaaaase
So, here you were, outside before the set even totally ended, standing at the bar, downing another lemon drop to calm your nerves. You really just wanted to be home, with Stevie snoring against your calves.
You were not totally ready to be in the same area as Jake for an extended amount of time.
You were just asking for your another beer when you felt someone sidle up beside you. The nudge against your shoulder, and the familiar hint of patchouli in his cologne, made you grin at your best friend.
“One salty dog for me,” Josh said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. After a nod, the bartender went to get his drink ready, and he turned you fully into him to give you a big hug.
It felt so safe. . . but you couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to be this close to Jake instead.
When you pulled away, you momentarily closed your eyes, collecting your thoughts. When you opened them, you watched as he placed an elbow on the bar and a hand on his hip. His eyebrow went up.
“Great job tonight. I’m so prou—.”
“Why haven’t you let me know your anxiety’s been flaring up again?” He interrupted, obviously worried.
You blinked once. What? “What?”
“Last month, you kept fleeing before I could even take a breath after a set. I figured you were just trying to get some sleep with your summer classes starting. But then you just stopped coming altogether,” he scooted in closer to you. His voice got lower, his eyes concerned. “I just wanted to put eyes on you. I’ve been so busy; I haven’t had time to check on you like normal. My schedule is shit. I figured this would be a way for me to see you and make sure you’re doing alright,” he continued, reaching his hand up to lightly rub your shoulder. “It came later this time. I expected it to get bad at the end of May, but it never came. What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you eating?”
Your cheeks pinkened. With your concern for avoiding Jake at these gigs, you hadn’t even taken time to think about how your behavior might have worried Josh. Of course he’d been thinking deeply about your absence. He cared so much for you, and was a sole confidant on multiple occasions of your depression induced anxiety flare-ups. And, to be fair, being flighty usually signaled the beginning of your bigger bouts with your superb anxiety-depression combo.
You’d had a few times in your friendship where it had gotten really bad. Definitely a trauma response, almost always coming with a change in season. For some reason, the change in leaves, flowers blooming — it always made you think of just how much your mom had broken you. You didn’t get to appreciate the beauty without it being tainted by darkness. Your mother's leaving had come right at the turn of fall into winter.
There had been a few times after Elsie left when it got so bad that Josh’d insisted he stay with you. With your sister around, he wouldn’t always stay the night when it hit you, but he’d check on you at work, and hover with texts, food, and quality time until he felt you were better.
But this had nothing to do with your mother. And really, your anxiety wasn’t bad. Jake wasn’t causing you anxiety for you at all right now. You didn’t know what you were feeling. Were you on edge around Jake at all times? Yes. But it wasn’t anxiety. It definitely wasn’t depression. Sadness that he could possibly not want you, yes. But it wasn’t something dark like the thought your mother might bring. You didn’t know what it was.
You just knew you had to reassure Josh.
“I’m okay,” you looked into his eyes and reached out to hold his hand on the bar. “Yes, I’m eating. I’m just—feeling a lot right now? I don’t know. It’s weird,” you shook your head and removed your hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. How could you explain this to him? You couldn’t. “Just a lot going on in my head.”
He studied you, squinted his eyes. “Is there something I should know about?” He questioned, his voice getting crisper as he tried to make pieces click. Your stomach dropped. “You’re being vague. You’re sure it’s not—?”
“No,” you shut your eyes, huffing a frustrated breath. “Yes. I’m—it’s just—I don’t know.” Improvise, improvise, improvise. “When Elsie was in town, we talked about my mom. I’ve just been in my feelings, I guess. And, yeah, summer classes have started and that’s added some pressure, too. But it’s not anxiety or depression or anything,” you connected eyes with him again, and reached to squeeze his hand. “I promise.”
He still didn’t seem convinced. You weren’t surprised. He was an empath after all. He shouldn’t be convinced. He knew better than to believe that was all it was. But you didn’t want him knowing any better than an assumption in his head. And as long as the assumption didn’t have anything to do with his brother, you were okay with whatever he was assuming. And, you being in a weird headspace because of your mom wasn’t a lie. You truly had been. He’d even witnessed it at the coffee shop.
It just wasn’t the whole truth. The biggest thing was something he absolutely couldn’t know: the way your mind had been swarmed with Jake, Jake, Jake for the past months. And it’d only gotten worse with the past couple . . .events.
The thought of Josh catching on to anything about his brother continued to make you fearful of him possibly being cross with you over it. Or worse, made you fear him feeling betrayed by you. You didn’t want him upset or thinking poorly of you for possibly distracting Jake in any way.
You couldn't be to Jake what his ex had been. And you feared Josh’s mind would go to that immediately—out of protection for his brother. Rightfully so.
His eyes settled back to normal, accepting your answer for the time being. His eyes curved down with understanding. “I saw you watching that girl and her mom at the coffee shop. I should’ve known.”
All you could do was nod. You didn’t know what more to say to cover your ass.
You cleared your throat, signaling you were ready for a change of topic. “Enough about me. How are you feeling about all of these amazing shows, rockstar?”
He grinned wide, letting his worries go as a drink landed in front of him.
And in no time, things were like they’d always been.
Just you and Josh, not a lingering thought for Jake’s moods as you let yourself listen to his twin’s many thoughts and feelings of this new life of his.
You just had to try your best to ignore the way your heart leapt in your chest at any mention of Jake’s name in a story.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Jake’s POV
I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her as I walked out onto the back area of the establishment.
And fuck it all, if she wasn’t the first thing my eyes found in that slightly crowded space. It would be impossible for her not to be—she was most definitely the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.
But my heart immediately dropped when it registered that she was holding Josh’s hand, talking animatedly with him. It would be stupid for me to assume she’d come for anyone else but him.
I had thought for sure that she’d been interested—wanted me—that night at Baby’s All Right. She’d said so much the night before that —her being so open with me at our home, right before we’d kissed for the first time in the hallway.
Then, that night at Baby’s. . .I’d been so close to her, feeling her swollen pussy, still wet from my mouth, on the head of my cock. The way her body had thrummed around me. . .making my body need more.
But just before I was inside of her, she’d heard my brother and her mind had gone immediately to him. Only caring what he thought.
I didn’t know what to think about what they had between them. It was very possible that they were just friends—best friends. I knew that was likely the case.
(And if I were thinking reasonably—it was definitely the case from how Josh talked about her sister.)
But my ways of reasonable thinking had been shot to shit these days.
I’d been burned by assuming something similar in the past. The whole “just friends” thing was a cover I wasn't too fond of. Thanks to the woman I’d loved in the past, my trust was shot and I had become a primarily “glass half empty” thinker. My past had bit me in the fuckin’ ass.
But y/n—she made me feel electric again—full of life. She was the most beautiful symbol of a fresh start. A fresh start I’d been craving—a feeling I’d been chasing for years.
I truly hadn’t felt so full of possibility since I was 16. Even when we’d bicker, I felt this glimmer of hope for my life. . . She was a natural light.
I just wanted her so bad, going dizzy at the sight of her . . . And that was a feeling I hadn’t ever felt with any other woman. My brain was almost always fuzzy when she was near.
She was absolutely breathtaking, every movement she made that had her hair flowing in slow motion around her head, the way her eyes hooded when it was just the two of us. . . but even better, the way her eyes shined, so bright, all the time. She was positively heaven sent.
And I’d be an idiot to think she’d want me more than my brother—who she’d known for years, who she was instantly drawn to at all times. They had natural chemistry. Anyone with two eyes could see it.
She deserved a light that matched her own. Could I capture that light? Yes, I knew I could. But I’d been so terrible to her from the get-go; I wouldn’t blame her gravitating towards Josh—feeling safer with him.
Like he always said, he was the sun, and I was the moon. I naturally came with darkness. I’d made it clear enough by acting like an asshole for the first portion of my time living with her.
People who knew me knew I was notoriously terrible at reacting to hurt. I didn’t naturally know how to handle my emotions like Josh was practically born knowing to do.
And the moment I laid eyes on her that first night at the apartment—when she’d opened the door. . .her hair falling against her sweet face, her eyes opening to show me the most beautiful color I’d ever seen. I knew then that I was a goner.
But it’d seemed to be terrible timing at that instant. Feeling so drawn to her—it was coming right after I’d had the biggest life change. My heart was hurting—not necessarily broken, just . . . lost.
And I didn’t want her to be involved in the hopeless sea I’d been drowning in since my past troubles had come crashing down around me.
Though, when I’d first seen her, standing there, the evening sun hitting her stunning face in her doorway— I felt like all of the pirates I loved to study. I’d found a hidden treasure I couldn’t even imagine could be so beautiful— just around the bend for so long, finally in my grasp.
But I hadn’t known her. I hadn’t even met her. She was a treasure that wasn't mine to enjoy.
And I truly needed to heal, without bringing someone else down with me. I was scared of all I was feeling, and I only knew to react with bluntness, rudeness, irritation at every fucking turn. I’d even brought girls to bed to try to get her the fuck out of my mind.
But it never happened. She was persistently there, in my everyday routine, in the eyes of the girls I'd mindlessly fuck. She'd sealed a sweet spot in my brain.
But I’d still kept up with the douchebag act.
It was so unfair.
She’d tried so hard to be friendly, and I never greeted it well. I hadn’t known what to make of it all. That first night, Josh had said we were the same. Though, as he’d said this, I’d been watching her—so peaceful and beautiful, deep in a surely dreamful sleep.
It’d instantly made my stomach dip when he said it. . . I knew well enough that she couldn’t be the same as me.
But she was the same as Josh—pure, unadulterated bright, yellow sunshine. She was the sun on a spring day, flowers blooming and the grasses so green. Not a cloud in sight.
But I was the cloud in her flawless sky. I’d been reminded of that when she’d stopped us at Baby's, saying she didn’t want Josh to know. It seemed she didn’t want to take a chance on people knowing we’d been so close.
I could only assume she didn’t want that darkness in her life, and I didn’t blame her.
So I’d separated myself from her.
After that night, when Josh had told me of her being at our other gigs in June, I’d brushed it off. I knew why she was there—for Josh. I hadn’t even tried to seek her out because I knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want me near her. Didn’t want people to know how close we had been.
How well her body shaped to mine in secret— and it was just that: a secret she wanted kept.
Especially wanted it kept from Josh. To him, she wanted us to be strictly roommates. So that’s what I’d decided I’d be for her.
I’d wanted to ask her to come to shows after our little stint, but I fought the urge every time it came on. I wanted her there, I fed off of her energy—she made me play better. But, I didn’t want to rub her the wrong way after she’d put her foot down in the bathroom. I didn’t want to come off too strong.
I’d also given my best attempt to not let my feelings show in the past weeks. It had been so hard anytime I’d meet her beautiful eyes. Her eyes that, over the past week, had seemed to turn from something hopeful when she looked my way to what could only be called disdain —disdain for me.
I had been an asshole, and she was better than that . . .
But, still, all I wanted was her. I wanted to take back everything I’d said or done out of hurt, due to not knowing how to handle my mess of feelings.
I wished I could go back to day one and make things different. I wished I could go back in time to stop myself from becoming a slab of stone to cope with my feelings. If I would have just been myself. . . Maybe I’d have her now— ever-endearing and enrapturing.
Fuck. And as I watched her tousle Josh’s hair, I just wanted to feel her fingers in mine again. My heart twinged with jealousy at the action.
“Look who’s here!”
Sam’s loud voice snapped me out of my reverie. I continued to watch her, her smile widened at Sam’s voice, looking in his direction, and away from Josh. Then, without warning, she looked over to me as I was still studying her face—the way her full lips stretched to show her beautiful beam.
But as soon as she looked at me, her smile fell. And all I wanted in that moment was for her smile to get bigger when she saw me, just as it had when she saw Sam.
I just wanted her.
I decided at that moment, I was going to bite the bullet. I could make one more move to be close to her again. And if there was one moment where she acted as if she didn’t want it, I’d back off.
But right now? I couldn’t see that happening. Couldn't see her backing off. She didn’t pull her eyes from mine, and I never let my gaze fall from hers. She held me with her stare, and I held her with mine.
It was just us.
And as I came up on her other side, opposite Josh, she never broke eye contact with me, turning from my twin. And even as Sam and Danny traveled behind me, she only looked at me.
I watched her chest rise and fall, the swell of her breasts making my mouth run dry from where they peeked out at the makeshift tear at the top of her shirt. The sugary sweet smell of her perfume made all of my senses lurch forward, wanting to take her—all of her— right at that moment.
I was close enough to see the shine from the Edison bulbs around us, reflecting in her irises.
Daniel and Sam came up to give her hugs, honestly acting completely oblivious to what was transpiring between us. Josh was chatting it up with the bartender, asking if he heard us from out here.
And finally, they all left to go play ping pong. They’d offered for us to go play, but she hadn’t even acknowledged them talking. I waved them off, and looked at them with a shake of my head. I felt her eyes continue to pore over me as she let me do the work to get them to leave.
Then, y/n and I were in our own world, I placed my forearm on the bar, my body curving to be around hers of its own accord. She followed by turning her whole body to face mine. It felt natural as she leaned into where I stood. She wasn’t quite touching me, but she let her own body follow all of my movements.
I couldn’t help but feel my chest puff as she let her body move with mine as I matched her, moving in time with her. I was the dull moth and she was the bright, alluring flame.
I wondered if it felt as seamless for her as it did for me, she sat her elbow on the bar, and leaned her hip against a stool. She went to sit on top of it, but she struggled with her footing, so I let my instincts take control and I helped her onto it. However I could help her, I wanted to.
I also wanted nothing more than to touch her, so that seemed like the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.
The gasp she released when I touched her, and lifted her the slightest bit to help her situate on the glittery plastic top of the stool, combined with the way her legs spread the slightest bit, her black jean shorts showing so much of her sweet, sun-kissed thighs—it made all of my blood rush through me and to a throbbing halt at the head of my cock.
I wanted to cross my legs to make sure it wouldn’t show what she was doing to me. But she was so magnetic, I couldn’t help the last step I took, towards the stool, to be closer to her. I was so close that my thighs touched her knees. Her knees, which she then crossed, in the process grazing the zipper of my jeans.
My breath caught in my chest, and my dick pulsed. She was still looking down at where she’d touched me, so I knew she saw what I felt happening in my pants.
She shot me a look, questioning all of this. And all I could do was look down at her, letting my eyes sweep over her entire outfit. So simple, yet so lovely, as always. She was wearing a cropped band tee (Cream. Fuck—did she do that on purpose?) and those cut off black denim shorts, with her black-colored toenails showing in a pair of cheap black flip flops.
I swallowed hard, feeling so entranced by her. My gaze went back to her face, the most appealing part of the woman. Her face was so open, so kind, so pretty—it had done nothing but draw me in since day one. And being so close to her again, I saw the familiar dusting of a few lighter freckles that dotted her nose. She was smiling—her eyes were smiling— at me.
Somehow it seemed she knew exactly what was going through my mind. Crazy how we’d been avoiding each other for the past couple of weeks, but now just clicked back together as if we were back at Baby’s All Right—in the cramped space of that bathroom.
I looked into her bright eyes, feeling something overwhelming come to life in my chest.
Fucking hell. She was perfect.
I needed this. I needed to feel this with her again. I’d missed it. The closeness.
“Hi,” I said with a nod, just loud enough for her ears to hear.
She blinked once, her eyes wide and wondering. Fuck. She was so damn cute.
Then, I watched fondly as her dimples showed in her cheeks with a soft grin. “Hi.”
End of Jake’s POV
-🌼🌼🌼-
It had been a decent amount of time since Jake had come up to stand right next to you, completely ruining any chance for sanity on your end.
He’d acted so normal, so forward. His actions were exactly what you’d needed to feel relieved—to know that all was okay.
You’d gotten nervous being around him, like Elsie would say, you were pretty sure you had a ‘good ‘ol crush.’ Nothing more. You focused on complimenting the set when you’d talked, asking simple questions, just to hear his voice explain the same things Josh already had. The raspiness in his tone was just delicious, and you wanted to hear the small things from his perspective more than anyone else’s.
When you weren’t listening to him talk, you pretended to be interested in the game on the flat screen—you had no clue what they were doing on the field, but it was distracting you from how sweaty your palms were getting at Jake being so close.
Though, you were now several beers (and a couple margaritas) in, previously deciding you wanted to make this night like old times where you’d get drunk and have fun with the guys. The boys’d come up to you a few times in your precious time being next to Jake. They’d bump you with a shoulder as they grabbed a drink. . . Josh only coming by once or twice, having been the chosen one to hold off, as he was the DD.
And, per usual, Sammy had chosen a game that would supposedly be much more fun, completely inebriated: ‘drunk ping pong.’
“Like normal ping pong, except you’re drunk!” Sam had excitedly said, his signature cackle following his words. He was right there with you on the 'shitface scale'.
Jake had barely left your side all night, and it felt so right to be so close to him, to stay with him. It felt right, just like it had before, except this time, it had nothing to do with anything sexual. . .it was just his simple presence that made you feel good.
(You weren't going to talk about how you'd felt his dick twitch in his tight jeans. . .because holy fuck. Your panties had been the victim when that had happened.)
By the middle of the ping pong game, you were still drinking. You felt light in the head, completely carefree. You even caught yourself leaning into Jake a few times, the two of you deciding to be a team against Sammy and Danny. Josh preferred being the referee for the game, getting a chance to nonstop talk by narrating the entire game.
At one point, you knew you were leaning back into him, but you were far too gone to care. You’d purposefully pressed your ass against his crotch, and he’d patiently repositioned you. You were grateful for him being so aware, because you knew you’d regret it in the morning if something stupid happened in front of your friends. You just couldn’t control your actions like a sober-you normally could.
You were in a body that was moving on its own, your brain barely registering what you’d do.
He’d repeatedly asked if you were doing alright, and you’d get so lost in his chocolate gaze you could only breathe a ‘yes’ in response.
And, now, as you settled into a booth inside the establishment, it was nearing 1 a.m., and you were simply listening to the guys talk about their next performance. And as you had been all night, you were next to Jake.
At this point, you were cuddled up next to him more than anything else. You felt so cozy with him. His body was a warm furnace for yours. You were sitting in a way that none of the other guys could see what you were doing. Because of them not seeing your bottom half, you situated a leg over his thigh, comfortably draping it the best you could to make it look as inconspicuous as possible (while simultaneously being incredibly drunk).
But you could barely worry about it when you leaned your head on his shoulder. You were sleepy. And he was warm, right, and close.
And he smelled so fucking good. Hints of sage and vanilla overwhelmed your senses, mixed with sweat. . .it was the perfect mixture that helped to lull you to sleep, along with the calming vibration of his voice as he talked with his brothers, your head laying on his shoulder perfectly placed for the melodic sound waves from his voice.
And right before you dozed off, you felt one of his calloused hands lay on your thigh, warm on your cooled skin. You snuggled into him, a small smile finding its way to your lips.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Before you knew it, the same hand was squeezing your thigh, urging you to wake up.
“Y/n. . .let’s go home,” his voice softly said, his minty breath hitting your face. Home. As your eyes wedged open, you looked up at him to find the apples of his cheeks redden with a deep laugh as he reacted to something Josh said.
If only you could just kiss him - right then and there.
You were still too out of it to register what Josh was saying, but you noticed the other three standing around the booth, Jake securely next to you still.
Your tummy fluttered at him being so attentive to you, and continued on that way as he helped you climb out (or rather squeak out of the booth, your bare thighs making racket against the seat).
“Y/n. . .,” Sam started, his voice way too high for him to be requesting your name for anything too serious. And still, you looked up at him as you finally edged your way to the very end of the red booth. “Did you fart?!”
The rest of the guys started chuckling with him, and you couldn’t help but join in as you went to punch his scrawny chest. “Shut the fuck up, you fucker.”
Danny whooped, beating a fist in the air. He started leading the way out of the bar. As you all followed, he turned to catch your eye briefly. “Y/n. . . coming in with some nasty ass insults tonight,” he laughed. “You’re killing it, Baby Dragon.”
“Haven't heard that one for a hot damn second,” Josh remarked, right behind Danny, waiting to hold the door open for you, Jake, and Sam. “Baby Dragon.”
Jake looked at you and Sam curiously, wanting an in on the nickname.
“Baby Dragon?” He questioned, taking the door from Josh to let you into the dark night, under his lifted arm.
“Game of Thrones,” was Sammy’s explanation, as he started teetering on his feet, balancing himself on the ledge of the sidewalk to keep himself busy. “Baby dragons.”
You could tell he was still wondering why, so you tried to extend Sam’s drunken response with your own woozy one. “I’m a baby dragon.”
Well, that made no damn sense, you thought, giggling to yourself.
The guys started busting up laughing, Jake still dipping his eyebrows in at you, a smile playing on his full lips. He was watching your every motion, continuing as you looped your arm with Sammy, trying to balance with him.
Josh continued, more lucid than either of you. “We watched Game of Thrones week after week at our apartment for about a year. . . binged it together,” he nodded his head toward you, smirking. “One of y/n’s favorite ways to bond is with a good television show. And she had been dying for us to watch it with her. So, we did.”
The curly headed twin then laughed at you and Sammy as you both nearly fell, making the same ridiculous sound as you almost went down. Sam thankfully recovered in time, even with his feet slippery in his Birkenstocks. He held you close to him. It made you laugh even harder as he playfully checked you for bumps and bruises.
“We deemed her Baby Dragon,” Danny finished.
Jake nodded, but he still wanted more information, looking left out. You also noticed him looking as though he’d discovered something. And then it clicked that Josh had exposed a bonding tactic of yours. You slapped your forehead, your reactions still slow, even after your nap, where you had snoozed off the tiniest bit of alcohol.
“Josh!” You scolded him, way past time. You still made no sense, randomly saying his name— you knew this.
But, the more Josh looked at you dubiously, you thought you’d leave it at that. You didn’t need to correct him for saying anything. Because, well, it really wasn’t that big of a deal, the more you thought of it. Maybe you were okay with Jake knowing you’d used TV to bond with him.
In this state, you could plainly admit that you wanted him to know your heart—all of your intentions. And you wanted to tell him all of your desires. . . Show him, even. You were craving him, especially after being so close with him all night. It felt nice.
You looked up to observe him at that moment, but he was checking his phone, his eyebrows crinkled. He looked up from it, clicking it closed and glancing to the street to see a car rolling up.
“Your Uber AWAITS!” Sam declared, motioning to the car that had pulled up to the curb, the black and white Uber sign in the corner of the window to confirm his words.
“Jake, you need to get a damn car,” Josh noted, opening the back door for you. “I’m tired of being your chauffeur. And Uber is going to get tired of you soon, too,” He caught your eye and winked, nodding over to your roommate. “Y/n, I’m thinking it’s your turn to cart Jake around everywhere he goes.”
You approached the nice little silver car, rolling your eyes at Josh, but still giving him a hug as you came up next to him. “Love you, Joshy,” you leaned in, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“I’m not taking any car advice from you, Mister Clunkerfuck,” he commented plainly. It made you burst out with laughter. “Your car is on its last fuckin’ leg. It’s going to break down on you at the worst possible moment and I’m not going to feel bad. I think you’re the one who needs to get a car—a new one.”
Sam started drunkenly singing a track you hadn’t heard that included the lyrics ‘you’re the one’. His actions were dramatic, only Danny paid him any mind, starting to sing with him, being just as goofy.
You were still thinking of what Jake had said. It was exactly how you thought of Josh’s car.
“Clunkerfuck,” you smiled in Jake’s direction. Though, when you caught his eye, he looked a little downcast, you just couldn’t pin why. Maybe you were seeing it, all dazed out. “Good one, Jakey.”
Jakey? It did register in time that you’d called him that, and you were instantly embarrassed by your nickname for him. Too far. So, you hurriedly got in the car, your cheeks flushing as you haphazardly yelled goodbyes to the other guys.
“Nighty night, Baby Dragon,” Josh had said with a laugh, calling you the nickname once more, closing the door behind you. You’d honestly forgotten about the nickname. . .it had been so long since they’d used it.
Before you knew it, Jake was scooting into the passenger seat to offer an address to the driver.
He doesn’t want to sit next to me? You thought, sadly. But he chose to be close to me the rest of the night. . . Why not now?
You tried not to look too disappointed on the outside as he was back to ignoring you for the twenty minute drive back to your place. He paid you no mind, and didn’t even care to check on you like he had all night, on the ride back.
You weren’t able to give it much thought as you looked at the GPS and reasoned you could get a good nap in on the way home. Drinking always made you feel so tired.
You laid your head against the cooled window next to you. Jake’s naturally husky (fucking sexy) tone as he spoke to the driver, was the last thing you heard semi-coherently.
You let the car sway you to sleep for the last 10-ish minutes of the drive back, only one handsome man, with long hair and a voice that dripped of sex, waiting behind your lids as they closed.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You were still feeling loopy as Jake helped you up the stairs to the apartment.
You’d had way too much to drink. You needed sleep.
Once you entered the apartment, it was so quiet and dark. . .you needed light. So, you felt against the wall to switch the light on. But, you instantly regretted it, covering your eyes with both hands.
“My eyes!” You yelped, way too dramatically. And when you peeked through your fingers, you saw Jake stooped down, next to Stevie’s dish, giving her a scoop of food. She nudged her little gray head against his hand. Your heart squeezed at the sight. But it was still too bright. “My eyes!”
With two hands still covering your eyes, you sauntered, on unsteady foot in front of the other, back towards the switch you’d used to flip the lights on.
But before you could get to the switch, you knocked into a chair, sending you back onto your ass. Yet again, dramatically.
“Ow!” You moved a hand from your eyes to massage your sore butt, and as you did, you saw Jake moving to switch the lights off. You were once again cloaked in darkness, but he turned the lamp on closest to him. You sighed, your ass not hurting as much as you’d imagined it had. Now you only cared about the lights, how perfectly dimmed the room was. “Ahhh. . .Much better.”
Your lids were drooping again, and you were not looking forward to getting back up on wobbly feet to make the trek to your bedroom.
Deciding the floor was a comfy enough bed for the night, you laid back, curling onto your side, your hands under your left cheek to make a pillow.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Jake’s POV
Her eyes slid closed. I watched her, a small grin on my face. So adorable.
But, she was so gone. I felt bad appreciating her being so cute while she was so incoherent.
So instead of taking advantage, I’d taken it upon myself to watch over her and make sure she was alright all night. I kept my drinking to a minimum so I could keep a careful eye on her.
We’d spent the whole night together, enjoying each other’s company (even if she had been slightly—very—drunk). It’d felt so right.
My heart had beat at being like that with her in a similar way it did when we’d watch New Girl together. But, it was different tonight. Instead of only sitting on a couch, we’d been together, walking around, playing, her willingly (albeit drunkenly) falling asleep on my shoulder, a smooth leg draped over mine (holy fuck, by the way).
We hadn’t really gotten the chance to talk a whole lot, thanks to my brothers demanding our attention. The only talking we had partaken in had been very little. And it’d only been about what she’d thought of the set, little questions she had for me. We’d mostly just taken time to be next to each other.
For me, it’d felt like coming back home.
I had just watched her as she watched the game on a TV in front of us (didn’t peg her as a girl who liked sports, but whatever), occasionally looking over at me to share a secret smile, making my skin hot with want for her.
I’d hoped, sitting there on those barstools, that she’d felt it with me—the whole cheesy ass ‘coming home’ thing.
But then, having to stand there and watch her kiss Josh on the cheek at the end of the night . . .that had been a kick in the fuckin’ ass. I’d literally felt my heart sink in my chest as I watched them, their respective energies feeding off of the other so well. . . they were practically one.
He’d even helped her into the car, once again calling her that ‘baby dragon’ thing that I couldn’t understand at all. I couldn’t understand her the way he could—the way all of the guys could. I hadn’t been around to get to know her with the rest of them. I wasn’t in sync with her like they were—like Josh was.
I was late to the game. Probably too late.
Though, when we got home, I still wanted to help her with a few small things . . . It was impossible for me not to try and help her (even if she didn’t fit as well with me as she did my brother).
And at this moment, I could tell that she was going to let herself sleep on the floor.
But I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Bending down next to her beautiful body, I couldn’t help but bite my lip when I saw her round ass peeking out from the bottom of her shorts. She was filled out in all of the right places—an absolute fucking masterpiece.
Then I heard a little whimper in her sleep. A sigh, as she probably started slipping into dreamland. I felt my dick harden just the slightest bit when I thought of hearing those same whimpers through the walls. . . how she’d said my name in her sleep a few times — moaned it, even. . . Off in her dreams where I could have only hoped to meet her.
I’d spent many mornings so sexually fucking frustrated with how close, yet so far she was. So many times—I was there, right next door to her as my name would slip from her lips. And with only a thin wall between us, I’d jerked my cock into a hand I’d imagined was her sweet pussy, having to bite my lip to keep from saying her name.
Fuck. I palmed at my crotch, willing my dick to soften. Now was not the time.
I touched her shoulder, nudging her a bit. “Y/n. . .come on, wake up. You don’t wanna sleep on the floor.”
She sighed again, “Yes, I do,” she retorted.
And then she moaned as she snuggled further into the carpet. Her moan. Fuck. She was like a damn good drug.
“No, you don’t,” I scooped my hands under her back, ready to carry her to bed. “I’ll carry you if you don’t move yourself. Come on.”
I saw her lids flutter, eyes still closed. A little smirk graced her features. “Carry me, Jakey,” she mused.
There she was using that nickname for me again, I thought. It sounded so much better, sweeter coming from her lips than I’d ever heard it.
And when I let both of my hands totally slip under her, scooping her into my arms, and against my chest, her eyes blinked open, still slightly hooded. Her eyebrows curved in, the look she was giving me telling me she hadn’t believed I would do it.
She wiggled, arguing. “Jake. You don’t have to,” wiggle. “Carry,” wiggle. “Me.”
I gripped her a bit tighter, but did give her a chance to climb out of my arms. “I’ll let you walk if you want to,” I continued, letting my guard down with my next words. “But I really like being this close to you. . .feeling you against me.”
When she looked at me again, it was as if she’d totally sobered at what I’d said (even though I knew better). Her eyes were inquiring, but so full of an emotion I couldn’t fully place in that moment. All I knew was her unnamed emotion somehow perfectly matched the thrum of my heart in my chest.
“Me too.”
And then she looped her arms around my neck, bringing my face down to meet hers, just as we’d made it to her room.
I couldn’t help it. I let myself give in to her apparent want in that moment, and met her lips with mine.
End of Jake’s POV
-🌼🌼🌼-
As Jake carried you further into your room, to your bed, you never let your lips leave his. Even as he laid you down on your bed, you kept kissing him.
Yes, you thought. This. This is what I needed. I needed him.
You knew you weren’t totally sober, but when he’d said what he did about liking the feeling of being close to you. . . it had made your heart leap into your throat with joy. Because you’d been hoping he still felt like that. You’d been hoping so hard to hear words like that, that it had kind of snapped you from your drunken daze.
And having him on top of you, laying his body between your legs that naturally opened to make room for him. . .the feeling was divine.
Having Jake with you, it was more than the alcohol that still lingered in your system. You wished you hadn’t let yourself get so wasted tonight, wished you'd have taken him coming closer to you as a sign to not make tonight ‘like old times’. You realized that you wanted it to be new times—times where Jake was here. Things were different with him around.
And now that you were so far away from the beginnings of him living with you, seeing him show bits of himself, outside of his shroud, throughout June. . . knowing what his lips tasted like—you could admit that having him around was a good type of different.
Your mouth opened, needing his tongue to meet yours. As soon as it entered your mouth, you sucked on it, loving the taste, the feeling of it, safe in your mouth.
Needing to be closer to him, you leaned up the slightest bit. You had to feel your skin against his. Closer, closer.
You separated your mouth from his, your lips wet, probably looking just like his: swollen and pink.
His eyes were dark, lids hooded, encouraging you. You tugged at his shirt, and he got the idea. Thanks to not buttoning his shirts all the way, he was able to slip his short sleeve floral button down over his head. As he did that, you reached around the hem of your old T-shirt, taking it off.
But before you could throw it to the side, he reached a hand out to grab it, turning the front of it to face you. The members of Cream, staring at you from the splotch of white on black material.
“Does it get you off?” He questioned, an eyebrow raised. “Turning me on with these little outfits you wear to the shows?”
You smirked, your eyes hazing with want for him. He’d liked your choice of shirt. It hadn’t irritated him. You had made progress. You weren’t at square one anymore. Thank God.
“You liked it?” You rhetorically asked. “You were all I thought about when I put it on.”
His eyes glazed over, just like your own. He liked that.
He huffed, his mouth forming a grin before leaning down to nip at your lips, throwing the shirt to the side. His hands found your thighs, lifting them around his hips. He sucked your bottom lip, moving his tongue to lick into your mouth, his mouth following yours as you melted into the feeling, needing more.
You pushed him away again, using the time he was leaned back to take your shorts off. He helped you so you didn’t have to awkwardly wriggle out of them. You flashed your eyes at him, smiling with them.
Then once they were gone, you sat up fully, legs falling from around his hips, to help him. You messed with the button of his jeans.
He placed his hand over yours, stopping you. You looked up to question him. And as you did, he was already laying you back down, honed in on the sight of your chest that hadn’t stopped heaving since you’d kissed him.
“Did you think of me when you put this on?” He pulled at the strap of your bra- the same bralette you’d had on the night you’d first kissed. His eyes looked down at the rest of your body, palms running smoothly up your thighs, and over the curves of your hips, giving them a firm squeeze that made you thrust up towards him. His eyes found yours, completely dark. “Don’t start with that.”
Okay, I will, you thought, ready to tease him.
You moved a leg to be between both of his, bending it at the knee, causing it to rub against his crotch ever so slightly, then you brought it back down to lay beside your other leg, looking up at him, eyes innocent.
“Oops,” you smirked, watching his own lips quirk.
But as soon as his mouth lifted, it fell into a frown. His eyes squeezed shut, brows drew in, his jaw suddenly set as he ground his teeth. . .
He looked . . . Frustrated?
He started shaking his head and quickly grabbed his shirt, going to get off the bed.
What the fuck?
It made you sit up again, like you had minutes before, but out of alarm this time.
“Jake?” You worriedly asked, getting off your bed to follow him, clothes be damned.
He didn’t respond, only grumbled something under his breath. You couldn’t understand him and you were wondering what in the hell was going on.
As you followed him out of your room and a few steps to his room at the end of the hallway, you grabbed his arm before he could open the door to his room.
“What’s going on? Are you—?.”
He roughly shook your hand off of his arm.
“Y/n. Go to bed,” he gruffly said, his next words made your throat tighten up even more than his initial tone. “It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone. Go to bed.”
Your mind was suddenly on high alert, ignoring any kind of lingering effects of alcohol, you swallowed the lump in your throat.
What the fuck was his fucking problem?
A mistake? That's what you were?
“Jake. . .,” you went to grab his arm again, but he turned before you could, facing you. His eyes were stern, dark with anger. It stunned you, so opposite of how he’d been all night. You continued on, not letting his reaction to you, deter you, “You don’t. . .,” swallow the tears, y/n. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” he confirmed. Your chest tightened, you took a step back. “We can’t keep—just go to bed. Leave me alone.”
Your sadness quickly turned to bitterness. . . spitefulness. All of a sudden, you were extremely aware of your state of undress. You felt completely embarrassed from the rejection. You covered your body the best you could.
“Fine,” you turned quickly on your heel, needing to get away from him and back to the safety of your bedroom. You were suddenly feeling anxious, upset, and ready to recluse. “Good-fucking-night, Jake. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll leave you the fuck alone.”
“Wait, y/n,” you heard his voice behind you.
But you ignored him, gave him a taste of his own medicine.
Asshole. Fucking asshole. How could someone change so quickly? Be two different people in the span of minutes-time? He had just been telling you how he liked being close to you, he’d barely left you all night. . . Even approached you at the bar, for seemingly no reason but to simply be with you.
But now? Now you were a mistake.
Fuck him.
“Y/n. . .please, I��m just—.”
Sharply, you spun to face him once you’d made it to your bedroom. You cut him off. “Fuck you, Jake.”
You let your emotions reflect with an icy glare in his direction.
Just before you shut the door to your room, you saw his face, completely crestfallen.
When you got back into bed, you curled up into yourself, and angry tears were your sad lullaby to get to sleep. You tried to be quiet enough so he wouldn’t possibly hear you.
You’d had enough embarrassment for one night and you didn’t want to give him any more reason to judge you, be angry with you, or worst of all—pity you.
As you fell asleep that night, you couldn’t help but think that his sorrowful expression had matched exactly how you felt. Had he been sad? What gave him the right to be sad when he’d cut it off? Called it a mistake?
You worked to push him as far from your mind as you possibly could. You didn’t want to think of him.
He was impossible to understand. As soon as you thought you had an idea of the man, he changed, confusing the hell out of you.
You tossed and turned, wondering why you still so desperately wanted to understand him. Why did it still matter? He shouldn’t matter.
When you finally faded to a restless sleep, you made the decision that you were going to try your hardest to not give a fucking damn about your roommate.
You apparently weren’t worth his time, so he shouldn’t be worth yours.
You’d meant what you told him.
Fuck Jake Kiszka.
-🌼🌼🌼-
As the week faded into the next, you’d made it your personal mission to make it perfectly clear to him that you were not giving him any of your time or attention.
You used one of his earlier tactics and didn’t come out for anything except to eat, shower, go to work, go to class. You tried to avoid seeing him when you knew he was home, so thankful for the work schedules that still got posted on the fridge.
He now had the additional schedule which showed when they had performances or practices, giving you a couple nights within that week to laze around the apartment with no worries of running into him.
Occasionally, he tried to stop you to talk to you as you would pass each other. But you weren’t having it. You would cut him off with a wave, a short ‘no’ or a curt ‘goodbye’ as you left the apartment to do your own thing.
You wanted to make it clear that you were done with whatever the hell you two had been dancing around for the past month. What he didn’t need to know was that you were mostly doing it to convince yourself that you were done with it.
In the moments he tried to stop you, you would just get hurt all over again that he seemed to be so desperate to beat the dead fucking horse—explain his hateful words. That was all he could possibly want. What else?
And you didn’t want that.
Why did he seem so intent on stopping you to just explain what a mistake being with you had been?
Drawing a line was imperative.
You had to convince yourself that you didn’t still want him and that you didn’t have several passing thoughts of him throughout your days.
It was much harder than you’d anticipated. Being your roommate, he was still everywhere you turned. No matter how hard you tried to escape him, he was there. In your shared home, in your thoughts, in conversations with Josh. . .
And in your fucking dreams.
Several days during that blessed week of ignoring him, you woke up in a sweat wanting only him. Your body was calling out to be touched by him.
And then you had the weak moments. The ones when you’d accidentally run into him, and you wanted to let your guard down, let him know you were hurting more than anything. You wanted to talk to him— wanted to know where he stood.
But every time, you'd bit your tongue to stop yourself.
He’d said it himself—you were a mistake.
So, that’s why you never gave in to the temptation to let him talk, or let him know your own feelings about it all.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Classes were a great distraction from what was going on in your heart and home.
Being able to dedicate your time to something completely unrelated to your roommate was exactly what you needed.
Spending more time on things like class work meant less time to think about Jake.
Though, it wasn’t necessarily doing what your family had intended it to. They’d wanted you to take a summer class to get your mind focused back on writing, use the class as a chance to get your passion for writing back.
But just as it had been before the summer class, your love—your passion for writing just wasn’t there anymore.
For some reason, when Jake had come into your life, it'd helped you realize for the first time in years, just how important music was to you. He brought out this spark that had faded. Being able to be around someone so often who was on the same page when it came to a passion for the art of music—it had done something impeccable for you.
(He’d done it unintentionally—unknowingly—, of course, as he’d hated your guts when you’d started feeling that incredible pull towards music again.)
And then there was the day in your summer class that pieces started clicking in your head. Slight identity crisis, if you may.
It had come to you when you’d been prompted to discuss and write about inspirations for pursuing writing. And in that moment, you’d realized you couldn’t think of any other reason you’d pursued your degree save for you wanting to be just like Elsie. (And the added bonus of your grandfather encouraging against a pursuit in a musical degree- at all costs.)
You’d set your sights on Elsie years ago as your number one role model. Your mother had left you with only your older sister to inspire you. Elsie loved writing, so in turn, you’d decided that you would also love writing.
It was her dream. And, unfortunately, you were only just now realizing that maybe it wasn’t fully yours, as you embarked on your senior year of college.
Terrible timing for Jake to enter your life and bring out that flame you’d always had for music.
Another strange thing that had come along with Jake entering the picture were thoughts of your mother. More than you’d ever really had before.
Thanks to Elsie having to use your forgotten past to help you have a better understanding of Jake, your mom had been in more thoughts than you were comfortable with as of late.
You hated thinking of her. But after that conversation, every time you saw a child with his or her mother, you had this giant burst of longing in your heart that you couldn’t put a name to.
It was truly odd, but the sight brought you this sense of impending healing.
Were you finally on a path to figuring out who you truly were in the aftermath of her leaving?
You had no clue what the pull on your heart meant.
All you knew was, there were a lot of changing feelings that were quite different than anything you’d felt in the past several years of your life. In those many years since your mother had left you broken on the porch step at ten years old—you’d simply gone about everything in life in a sort of monotone style.
Rather than thinking with your heart, you’d just followed a gray wave. You’d never taken a real initiative to understand yourself. The waves of life had carried you, and you’d let them, willingly.
It had been easier—more comfortable— than actually taking time to think about yourself and what you wanted.
But Jake. . .he’d been the cause of bringing about the most feelings you’d had since your mother left in her blaze of glory. He’d brought out pieces of you that you hadn’t come in contact with since you were ten years old and vulnerable, screaming and crying for your mom to come back as she left you, broken.
But with the feelings this time, it truly felt more like a yearning to be more. You felt this sense of understanding for yourself that you hadn’t ever had before.
In some backwards way, he was helping you get to know these pieces of yourself you’d kept in the dark for far too long. Pieces that needed time, attention, and love.
It was fucking weird.
You didn’t understand the anatomy of it all.
But you desperately wanted to learn more about these parts of yourself you were discovering.
-🌼🌼🌼-
In order to push through the class (and your degree), you decided it was a good idea to pair up with a study buddy.
You needed someone to help motivate you to keep going—finish with a skip in your step, rather than falling into a pitiful slump.
It’s why you decided to ask Theo to be that person after class one day.
Surely that was a reason he’d floated back into your life. Help you stay motivated to get this degree. You didn’t know.
And maybe it could be more. . .he would end up assisting to help you get your mind away from Jake. You didn’t need to be distracted by your roommate.
Everything happens for a reason, after all. And maybe these were Theo’s reasons in your life.
He’d agreed with no hesitation, which had made a giant smile plaster to your face.
But why, when you were leaving class, had you felt as though something had fallen to the bottom of your gut?
-🌼🌼🌼-
“Fiction or non?”
You were splayed out on your bedroom floor, with Theo across from you. As he’d pored over his textbook, he kept coming up with questions to ask you.
Sure, it might be cute and endearing in a normal circumstance. But right now, you wanted to focus on studying for a couple of upcoming tests, as summer semesters were the worst at moving so damn quickly.
There were more important matters at hand than nonsensical small talk.
Deciding to humor him (and hopefully get back to the task at hand), you responded. “Hmm. . .,” you sat up from where you’d been laying on your stomach to read about Geoffrey Chaucer. “They both have special things about them—both stretch our minds to understand more about other worlds and our own,” you paused, giving it a second to ponder. “Are we talking writing-wise or reading-wise?”
He chuckled, and winked at you. “It doesn’t have to be something you think so deeply about,” he closed his textbook. What was he doing? You still had to make flash cards! “Pretend we’re playing a game and it’s rapid fire questions.”
You didn’t want to be playing a game. You wanted to be sinking your teeth into the intricacies of this author in order to ace your test.
You shook your head, your eyes stuck on his closed book. “Fuck,” you scratched your eyebrow. Your mind flicked to music: fun to write and read about. You were actually currently reading a book about John Lennon. You had many books on your TBR list about famous musicians. A most intriguing subject, in your opinion. “Non-fiction.”
His face scrunched up. “Nah,” he disagreed. “Fiction.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” his stare was blank in response. “Don’t really have to think too hard about it.”
You tried not to roll your eyes at him. In your opinion, thinking hard about what you were writing or reading was what made it most desirable. It made you venture into undiscovered realms of your mind.
When you went to lean back over your book, the movement made you realize just how badly your bladder was begging to be released.
Stupidly, you thought of the ridiculous work schedule on the fridge.
Why the hell couldn’t you just let yourself go to the damn bathroom without thinking about Jake? You knew it was fucking ludicrous. You just didn’t want to see him. When you pulled up the picture of the fridge on your phone, you saw you were in the clear. He should still be at band rehearsal.
You tapped your open book, giving Theo a sign that he needed to open his back up. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick,” you stood up, the wave of having to pee rushing through you tenfold at the motion. He still hadn’t gotten the hint to open up his textbook. Ugh. “I’ll be back soon and then we will make our cards for the test.”
And as you exited the room, you saw him finally get back to business and open his book back up.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You dried your hands on the towel next to the sink, and took a look at yourself in the mirror.
He sort of annoyed you, but Theo was still cute, and he’d made you happy in high school. You weren’t totally opposed to the idea of kissing him (or maybe more) by the end of the night.
It seemed to you to be another good plan to get your mind off of Jake.
And Theo seemed interested enough. Considering he’d been more interested in learning about you, rather than the material for class all night (irritating, but whatever).
Deciding you looked good enough to return, you opened the door to go back. And as you went to walk out, you stopped at a chest in your way. You got dizzy at the smell—smelled so fucking good—familiar. . .
You looked up.
Jake.
Your eyebrows pinched together, not happy at all that you’d crossed paths. Fucking hell. Why wasn’t he. . .?
“We’ve gotta stop meeting like thi—.”
You held a hand up to silence him, crossing your arms. “Why aren’t you at band practice?”
Why the fuck was he cracking jokes? You were not in the mood.
“Ended early,” his face hardened when he shrugged, stating it plainly.
“Why didn’t you just stay with the guys?” You asked, secretly glad he didn’t. For whatever reason. “You could have hung out with them instead of coming back here.”
“Oh,” he stuck his chin out at the word and leaned a shoulder against the door-hinge. He raised a brow and crossed his arms to mirror you. “I see.”
You definitely didn’t glance at how his bicep flexed as his fingers wrapped around it. And you didn’t take time to appreciate his beautiful hair. . . had it started getting slightly longer?
You shook your head, retraining your eyes.
“Tell me, Jake, what do you see?” You snapped, flicking your eyes up to his.
He scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Saw that guy lying on your bedroom floor, waiting for you. He was even sweet enough to wave at me when he saw me pass your room,” he sarcastically remarked, waving his hand to mimic.
“We’re just studying,” you hushed back, feeling the (unnecessary) need to reassure him.
He scoffed. “You think that’s all it is to him?”
You narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips before you pulled him by his T-shirt into the bathroom. You weren’t going to discuss this in a place Theo could possibly hear.
“I know that’s all it is,” you released his shirt like you were repulsed by the touch, when in reality you wanted nothing more than to pull it completely off of him. Damn him. "Why does it matter?"
“It doesn’t. Just think it’s funny how you’re so naive to believe he doesn’t want more.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Do you?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. I just think it’s also a little funny that you might want me out just so you can fuck that guy in your bedroom,” he nodded his head in the direction of your room.
Oh. He was taking it there. Okay.
“Yeah? And if I wanted to?” You jutted your chin out the slightest bit, bringing your arms closer, to press against your chest. “How is it any of your damn business?”
He stepped once towards you, eyeing your chest, the tops of your breasts revealed, pushed up to the top of your tank. Your skin flushed, heart racing.
His voice lowered. “It became my business the night you spread your legs for me at Baby’s,” one more step towards you, his eyes locking with yours. Fuck. “When I had you moaning my name while my mouth played between your pretty legs,” another step. “I think you gave yourself away that night. I don’t buy this little act.”
Oh.
Fuck. . . If your heart wasn’t racing.
You blinked, shaking your head. You tried to stand firm. “Wh-what act?” Dammit. Why were you stuttering?
Stand your ground, y/n, you thought, motivating yourself to stay strong.
But as he took one more step in, your body was effectively once again trapped between his body and a sink. Thankfully, he hadn’t pressed himself up to your front, so you weren’t distracted by that.
You tried to hold your own.
But shit. . .he was so close. Your skin flared with heat, your heart still beating erratically in your chest.
As you were making direct eye contact with the chest of his white t-shirt, you craned your neck to see his face fully.
“What act, Jacob?”
He shook his head. A little smirk played at his mouth. He brought his hand up to hold your cheek. Your skin was on fire for him and his touch.
You couldn’t help it when you leaned into his hand, letting your cheek press into his calloused flesh.
He licked his lips. “You tell me,” he whispered lowly, nodding his head once at you.
And you couldn’t help it, his deep brown eyes pulled you in. He was begging to be touched. You had to feel him.
Leaning in, you held his cheek just as he held yours. He then took the chance, and captured your lips with his.
Ah. His lips. So soft.
Your vision was hazy, eyes still open, you saw how his eyebrows dipped in with a moan. You matched the sound, closing your eyes, and slipped your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his.
You heard him shut the door with the hand that wasn’t holding your face.
He then moved that hand from your face, reaching both hands under your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he lifted you the short distance to sit on the bathroom countertop.
You bit his bottom lip, getting another small moan from him. He did the same to you and then soothed the spot with his tongue. You sighed into his mouth.
Reaching both hands up, you sunk them into his dark, brunette locks. He matched every movement of your lips with his own, and then licked one wet stripe on the roof of your mouth.
You were able to gasp for air when he moved his mouth from yours to give the softest, small kisses to your neck. Though it didn’t last long before he turned his pecks into wet, open-mouthed kisses. The slightest stubble of hair on his lip skimmed against your sensitive skin. He worked from under your jaw, all the way up, to the tender spot behind your ear.
Shivering with a sigh, you gripped his hair tighter, pulling him in as close as he could be to you, on the counter. You felt his hardening length against your center when you did so, making you immediately grind into him.
And when he did the same to the other side of your neck, this time, he nipped at the skin behind your ear. You bucked your hips into his. He released a groan that echoed through the small bathroom, making you want to melt into it.
“More,” you breathed, clutching him closer, making sure the front of you stayed connected to him. Feeling his hard length through the material of his jeans was almost too much, but you craved it. You needed it.
More.
But, the next moment, you heard a little cough from your bedroom, right next door.
It snapped you from your daze. You were suddenly hyper aware that it was not just you two in the apartment. You had to stop.
You pushed him back, jumping off the counter. When you looked in the mirror to check your face and neck, your lips were swollen and your cheeks were flushed. Your neck was still pink from where he’d been. You checked where he’d bit behind your ear, and seeing the redness back there made you want to hop right back onto that counter. Let him have his way with you— right there. Theo be fucking damned.
But you knew better.
Tucking some hair behind your ear, you tried to make yourself look slightly presentable.
From behind you, he was brushing a hand through his hair, when he went to smooth a hand over his cheeks, his jaw stretching with the motion. He was contemplative.
His eyebrows drew together, curious. You couldn’t tell if he was upset. He mostly looked . . .confused.
He removed his hand from his face when his eyes found yours in the mirror, open and wondering. He looked desperate to understand.
“What do you want, y/n?”
You didn’t know what in the hell to tell him.
You wanted Jake. And you wanted him bad. But somehow saying it out loud seemed too difficult at the moment.
And how could you say that to him when he’d so recently, blatantly told you that you were a mistake?
“I don’t know, Jake,” you whispered back, still looking at your blushing cheeks, messy hair, and freshly kissed lips. You’d need a minute to let your skin return to its normal shade before going back to your room.
You turned to face him.
When you saw him, looking so beautiful, so lost. . . You thought of how lost you’d felt for the past couple weeks. His words were once again flashing back through your head.
“It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone.”
It still hurt as you could see him so clearly in the doorway of his bedroom, angry and insistent that you do what he said and leave him alone.
But tonight? Crowding you in here to make out on the bathroom counter? Did he truly want that? For you to leave him alone?
“What do you want?” You leveled him with a stare, your tone sharp, but keeping your voice low since Theo was one room over. You pointed a finger in his chest. “You say you want me to leave you alone, but then you trap me in here like this?”
He shook his head, a dimple showing again with a sarcastic grin. After tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, he put the same hand in his pocket.
“Oh, there is no way you are going to turn this around on me,” he matched your quiet tone, understanding. “And trap you? Okay, Little Miss ‘Fuck Me, Jake,’” he used air quotes to remind you of your words from the night at Baby’s.
Fuck.
Of course he remembered you’d said that. Why wouldn’t he?
You decided to ignore it, focusing back on him.
“You’re the one who said it was a mistake! That I needed to leave you alone,” you protested, anger flaring in your chest.
He covered his eyes with a hand, the veins in the hand catching your eye. You’d never noticed how masculine his hands were. And damn if he didn’t know how to use them . . . Even in this moment, debating with him, you wanted them touching every part of you. You wanted his skilled fingers, flexing inside of you.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” His eyes were sad when he moved his hand, when you saw the brown irises again. But there was a fire behind them still. “Dammit, y/n. Why do you insist on assuming the worst about me all the fucking time? I’m not the one who can’t make up my mind about what I want,” he leaned back against the wall behind him, crossing his arms. “One minute you’re kissing me. You’re with me, naked and ready as I’m pressing into you,” his voice was being raspy, along with the picture he was drawing. . . It made your cheeks pink. You could still feel what he felt like, pressing against you, throbbing. . .so close to being inside of you. He went on, “And the next moment you’re shoving me away from you, making sure to tell me that Josh doesn’t need to know what we’re doing.”
Of course some of this had to do with Josh. You’d had the smallest inkling, based on how weird he’d acted when you set the rules.
Stupid.
“I knew you were making it all weird with Josh. . . is this all about Josh?! You know that he and I—.”
“No! It’s about you and how you make it impossible for us to—.”
“You told me to go away!”
“And you told me to stop,” he said back, his smoky voice still hushed. “More than once.”
Your chest heaved, knowing he was right, but you were so lost on how to explain it all. “There were reasons every time.”
“Reasons,” he scoffed. “So are you going to keep having these reasons? Keep stopping it? Why do you keep letting it happen if all you’re going to do is make us stop?”
“Last time you stopped us, Jake!” You defended, focusing on keeping your voice low. “Not me. You walked away and called it a mistake.”
He covered his face with both hands, growling. You shushed him.
He took his hands away to show his jaw set, clenching with frustration. “You were drunk, y/n!” He begged you to understand, “I wasn’t going to do anything with you without you being in full and total control of yourself.”
You were sure your expression showed it all clicking. You blinked at him. It all made so much sense now.
And what he’d done? His true intentions? Fuck. Sexy as hell.
Maybe you really did need to stop assuming the worst. You just couldn’t help it. It was a trauma response. Jumping to conclusions, thinking that people didn’t want you. . .
Your mom didn’t want you, so you were always convinced other people wouldn’t either.
Especially men who were as beautiful and mesmerizing as Jake Kiszka.
Damn. Now it really was all on you. How did you even begin to lay it all out?
You looked him dead in the face, completely unsure of how to articulate the mess in your head.
“I don’t know,” you covered your face with both hands, mimicking him and frustratedly groaning into your palms. When you removed them from your face, you tucked them into your front pockets. You decided to assure him of one thing. For whatever reason, you wanted—needed him to know this. “I do want you. I want what we almost had in the bathroom at Baby’s,” You stepped towards him, wanting to be close to him again. You placed a delicate hand on his chest. He looked down at you, as you looked up into his eyes, reaching to hold your hand on his chest. Your skin tingled at his touch. “I need to feel you, to be with you. . . it just never seems like the right time. There’s always something.”
You didn’t know why you’d suddenly felt the urge to be vulnerable with him. He kept your hand on his chest, holding you, his eyes meeting yours in understanding.
And you knew then that it was just him. Jake Kiszka, in and of himself, made you feel this strange sense of safety, comfortability.
And it was different from the kind his twin had offered you as your friend for so many years.
With Jake, you weren’t just friends. You weren’t even really friends. . .it was something else—an intense, unavoidable attraction. The safe feeling came combined with this desire to be with him.
He felt like a resting ground.
It was weird.
But you liked it.
He smoothed a thumb over your hand on his chest. You held his deep gaze, getting lost in it.
And out of nowhere, he leaned down, kissing your lips with his. Just for a moment.
You felt it all the way down to your toes. The feeling of him so close, with one simple kiss from his soft lips, it felt perfectly intimate.
He released his hold on your hand, wrapping his hand around your waist instead, eyes connected with yours. It was as though he just wanted to touch you, have his hands on you.
It was what you wanted, too. Just the feeling of his hand, as it moved down to just over your hip, his thumb on the skin underneath the hem of your gray tank top. . .it felt right.
He penetrated the thickness in the air with his low, gravelly tone. His eyes were vulnerable as he asked, “Do you want that? To find the right time?”
You reached a hand up, holding his handsome face. You smoothed a thumb over his skin, tracing a freckle on his cheek. “I do. I promise I do,” you blinked up at him, needing his answer to that question. “And do you? Wanna find the right time?”
This was so much, butterflies flew rampant in your tummy.
The grin he gave you was loose, his eyes relieved and open. “I really do.”
It felt so amazing to hear it straight from his lips. He really wanted it too.
You’d overthink all of this later.
He leaned down to kiss you again. You reciprocated, for just a moment, letting your lips move with his.
Then you pulled back, your hand falling from his face.
You nodded at the door. “I gotta get back to studying.”
His hand that was holding your hip squeezed slightly, your skin heating at it. You caught his eye, the intense feeling setting in your beating heart.
“Is that all you’re doing?” His eyes were dark and questioning, making your head spin. “Studying?”
You winked at him, still holding onto your teasing from earlier. “It’s whatever I want it to be.”
His eyes seemed to darken more, pulling you in so your chest touched his. So warm. “I really don’t want to hear another guy fucking you through these walls.”
You pressed closer to him, your body thrumming with fire. “Funny coming from the guy who told me I could just wear earplugs when he brought women over,” then you pulled back, his hand fell. His eyebrow lifted, a tiny smirk lifted his lips. You continued, “Why don’t you go ahead and get a pair of your own, hm?”
You patted his cheek, reluctantly parting from him. Before leaving the bathroom, you chanced one more glance at your appearance. Not quite as flushed as before, though your cheeks were still blushing. You’d find a way to pass it off. Whatever. You’d been gone too long.
You were about to open the bathroom door when, from behind, his voice stopped you. You felt a spark as his hand delicately touched yours.
“Hey.”
You swiveled on your heel, raised your brows in question. “Yeah?”
“Do you think you could come to our gig this weekend? It’s a bigger one.”
Did you work this weekend? You couldn’t remember.
All you knew was that, suddenly, you really wanted to be at their show.
“I’m not sure . . . Depends on work.”
“I would love—,” he put a fist in front of his mouth and cleared his throat. “The guys and I would love it if you could be there,” he shook his head, seeming to come to terms with an inner battle. “For me, I would just love to look out and see your beautiful face in the crowd.”
Your mind was fuzzy. All of this felt so unreal, yet so real all at once. He really wanted you there? And had he just called you beautiful?
“I’ll try my best,” you slapped on a small grin, trying to play hard to get, masking your inner shock. You wanted to keep him on his toes, like he’d kept you for the past weeks.
He scrunched his brows in and messed with his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, totally get it. Just text me and let me know.”
Anytime he messed with his mouth, it was a distraction. You had to keep yourself from watching too close. It really didn’t help that you knew the feeling of those full, pink lips. . .
And as you walked the short distance to your bedroom, you realized something else.
Had he just asked you to text him?
What was all of this? This new territory you had just discovered?
-🌼🌼🌼-
And a couple nights later, when you were sitting on the couch watching New Girl, Jake came to sit at his end of the couch.
Once you’d finished the episode he’d sat down to watch with you, he cleared his throat, making you look over at him.
He was already looking at you. It made your stomach flurry. You decided to look back at the TV, nervous under his gaze.
He spoke, keeping your ear in his direction, you paused the show. “We should start the series over. You know, start at the beginning together.”
You smirked, feeling a rush of giddy happiness and excitement buzz through you.
“Yeah, sure,” you coolly respond, starting the show from scratch.
And as Jess began the first episode, you peeked quickly over at him, a content smile resting on his lips as he lounged at his end of the sofa.
-🌼🌼🌼-
And for the next few nights, Jake kept coming back. He would sit on the couch with you, simply to watch your show.
Just to share that quiet time at the end of each day with you.
Whenever he would come to sit down, your nerves would translate to a dizziness of butterflies in your stomach.
Though, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to laugh with him, share popcorn or pizza, look at each other when a character would say something particularly hilarious. . .
But neither of you ever moved to kiss the other. You know . . . make it anything more than two people watching a TV show.
It almost seemed like an unspoken rule that you were not doing that again . . .
. . .yet.
Both of you, seeming to wait for the right time.
But you sure liked those quiet nights.
These nights with him made your house feel like a home. . . comfortable and safe.
-🌼🌼🌼-
On Friday night, you got off work a little early.
It was the night before the guys’ show, so Jake obviously wasn’t home due to a last minute rehearsal and details. You'd seen as much on the rehearsal schedule on the fridge.
You took your time showering, shaving, exfoliating, pampering yourself fully, with the apartment to yourself. . .
Once finished, you realized you really wanted to watch New Girl. Even though Jake wasn’t home, you were in the middle of one of your favorite parts of the show. You had to watch the next couple of episodes.
You’d just rewind to watch again when he was home next.
You couldn’t help it. The two of you had been binging and you'd come to your favorite part in the whole show. It was arguably the best part—what the audience waits for from practically the first episode.
Jess and Nick were finally about to bite the bullet, get their shit together and get together.
And as you sat with a couple slices of warmed up cheese pizza from the night before, cuddled up with Stevie purring against your blanket covered thighs. . .something clicked.
As they looked at each other throughout the whole episode of “Cooler,” you were angry with them. So angry that they were so close to finally being together, yet so far. . .
“Not like this!” Nick said to Jess, stopping her from kissing him. He suddenly sounded and looked very much like you had felt recently.
He looked desperate to make it the best it could be, get Jess to understand that it had to be just right. They’d waited long enough, and he wanted it to feel like it deserved to.
You couldn’t stop it when it pulled you right back to your real life. Your current situation.
And if you were upset with Nick and Jess for piddling around and not just acting on their feelings, not letting loose when it was so obvious they needed to . . . Then why the hell were you dragging it out so damn long with Jake?
You felt like the two of you were essentially Nick and Jess. You were roommates, with so much building between you—everything and nothing to lose all at once.
You wanted to act on it. You wanted it all. It was time.
No, it was past time.
And as Nick and Jess finally kissed, you decided.
The gig was tomorrow. You were off work early enough to go. . .
You were going to the show, and you weren’t going to stop anything that may happen afterwards this time.
-🌼🌼🌼-
As you left for work the next morning, you noticed a piece of paper sitting on the dining room table with your name on it, along with a sticky attached to it with an address and a little scribbled note underneath.
Just in case
-J
Your tummy fluttered.
You’d been running late, so you hadn’t had time to look at it, tucking it into your bag to look at later.
-🌼🌼🌼-
In the quietness of the record store, you opened it up to find the setlist.
Grinning, you checked it over. Every song on the list were ones you knew. Save for one near the bottom.
Edge of Darkness.
Suddenly curious about the song, you wondered. . . Was this song the reason he wanted you there?
-🌼🌼🌼-
Due to stupid-ass New York traffic and thinking you’d let Stevie run out of the apartment, only to find her hidden behind clothes in your closet, you were running roughly forty-five minutes late for their gig.
You’d texted Jake to let him know you were running late, but hadn’t received a text back. Momentarily, you’d been afraid of him being upset with you for being late, your stomach falling when he hadn’t responded for the thirty-ish minute drive to the venue after you’d sent it.
Then, you realized he was on stage performing, so of course he wouldn’t respond.
Whenever you’d sent the text, your hands had been extremely shaky, checking your text a million times for grammatical errors, even after you’d sent it. It was seriously like a ridiculous high school crush.
Dumb.
You still believed that if you just fucked him and got it out of your system, some of those juvenile feelings would come to pass.
As an adult woman, you didn’t need to care so deeply for how a man might respond to you. There was no use for that, and you thought yourself ludicrous for it.
Though, you really did feel terrible as traffic took so long, delaying your arrival to the venue. Your normal road rage came out a few times, honking your horn and cursing as people would drive several miles below the speed limit in front of you.
You just wanted to get there.
-🌼🌼🌼-
When you did get there, the guys were playing their hearts out as you had to squeeze through a mass of sweaty, singing bodies, alcohol sloshing whenever you’d pass through.
The establishment had two levels, so you decided to climb some stairs to watch from a higher level, hoping for less of a crowd from that vantage point.
And when you’d made it up there, you realized it was still crowded. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as below. You found a semi-clear space to claim, a thankfully nice view of all of the guys.
The first thing you noticed when you looked at Josh was his hair. He’d told you recently that he was trying to grow it out on the sides, going for a full head of curling hair. You hadn’t seen him recently enough to see the progress, though, and it looked great on him.
“All right!” Josh had screamed into the mic, hyping up the packed house, receiving screams from everyone watching. Jake strummed a little note which made you immediately hone in on him, but he seemed irritated, strumming a few more times, shaking his head.
Josh glanced over at his twin, sensing the issue, and he smiled back at the crowd. “How we feeling?!” He raised his hands, eliciting more screams as Jake continued strumming, finally gaining some help from someone in their little backstage crew. The curly headed twin gave Jake another look, but Jake’s back was turned as he worked with the crew member to get the problem figured out.
Josh walked over to his twin, checking out the problem for himself. They were having the smallest conversation before Jake shook his head at Josh, and then the crew member. He turned around, effectively giving up on the issue. He played another chord, checking, but his brows were still drawn in with irritation.
What was going on? Was he okay? You suddenly had an incredibly impulsive urge to go check on him. But you stood your ground as he felt out a few more notes, shrugging shortly and giving a curt nod to Josh as a go ahead.
Josh once again smiled so wide it looked like it hurt. You could tell he was trying his hardest to alleviate any sort of tension for the crowd. Fortunately, the crowd seemed oblivious, playing into it as a sort of bit, it seemed.
You took a few seconds to send a text to your sweet, empathetic friend to let him know you were there and that you wanted to get a drink after the show.
You hated seeing him stressed- especially on stage. You were feeling it with him and with Jake.
“How about a new one?” He asked, receiving a plethora of yells and screams. You smiled with the crowd. “This next one is called Edge of Darkness. . .and it’s about. . .the edge of darkness.”
You giggled at him. He was a great frontman. The people were soaking it all up, laughing with him, and screaming for more.
But you had to check back in on Jake. He seemed to be doing better, still upset, but he smiled tightly to a few screaming girls in front.
He started playing, his face saying that something was not blending together like you knew he wanted it to. But you couldn’t tell the difference, so you knew the crowd couldn’t, either.
It didn’t stop him from turning to check the amp a couple more times before suddenly, he was ripping through the most erotic guitar solo you’d ever heard him play live.
Fuck. The song was called the ‘Edge of Darkness’, and it was ironic because you felt like you were on the edge of some kind of dark shit. Watching him manipulate those strings with such precision and intent, his hips fucking (yes, fucking) into his guitar. It was unlike anything else he’d ever done with that guitar. . .you were absolutely sure of it.
You were sweating. And you knew it wasn’t from proximity to any people around you. No, it was from watching him go to this secret place that you wanted to join.
His facial expressions were driving you insane. All you could imagine was seeing those faces above you as your body replaced the guitar. Bent over, with him fucking into you with the same vigor he was giving his instrument.
Then he threw it behind his fucking head. It got you every. time. He made it look so effortless— so easy for him to balance it there (though you knew it wasn’t), while he still played all of the intricate chords. He was a natural—a true rockstar.
You wondered what else he was a natural at.
You were squirming underneath your skin, your palms were clammy and when you moved a bit, you noticed your thong was uncomfortably damp between your legs. And your jeans made it impossible to move to fix the issue.
These solos of his. . .fuck. They were the sole cause for your sexual frustration after these shows. Why you’d had to replace vibrators in the past month.
But tonight? Tonight, you wouldn’t need the help of your hand or a tool. No, tonight, you planned on going home with him— to take care of it with his help.
-🌼🌼🌼-
But as you waited out in the bar area after the show, after sending Jake a text on how well he did, you were met with radio silence on his end.
It sat there, glaring at you in the blue bubble.
You, 10:43 p.m.: You fuckin killed it. So glad I came.
It had now been several minutes since the show had ended and since you’d sent the message, and looking at the time on your phone, you realized it had now been closer to an hour.
What was taking them so long? Their crew packed their shit up now . . . so where were they?
You weren’t able to wonder too much longer, hearing Josh’s voice come up right behind you.
But he didn’t have his usual bounce. He sounded super pissed.
“Your roommate’s a dick,” he sat in the seat at the bar next to you. He ran two hands through his growing hair and then put both of his hands over his face. He sat there like that until the bartender came up, removing them when they asked what he wanted. “Strongest thing you have.”
“Josh?” You tentatively reached a hand out to touch his bare shoulder. He’d worn his little brown vest he loved so much, sans a shirt underneath. “You okay?”
When he looked at you, he looked sorry for how he’d been acting. And he said as much.
“I’m sorry, y/n. Jake just—,” he put his face into his crossed arms on the bar to growl, then he faced you again. “He’s been in a piss mood all fucking night, and when he’s mad, I feel it all the way down to my bones. I also just get really fed up with his little attitude he gets when something goes wrong. It’s annoying as hell and I get tired of it.”
You could relate—you also hated Jake’s pissant attitude when he was upset over something. Though, in this circumstance, you felt inclined to be the devil’s advocate.
“Josh. . .you also get upset when things go wrong. You’re the biggest perfectionist I know.”
“Apparently you don’t know Jake, then. And you’re one to talk!” He spat. Then he groaned again, his eyes sympathetic when he looked at you. “I’m sorry. I know. I agree with you. I’m sorry. He just. . . seemed off all night and it already bothers me when he’s upset over something and he wasn’t telling me everyth— my twin intuition always knows when he isn’t telling me everything. And tonight he sure as hell had something else on his mind that he refused to give any weight to,” the bartender came up with a shot of something. Josh threw it back, and shook his head, coughing just a bit. His eyes bulged the slightest bit.
You couldn’t help your little laugh at him. He needed that. Take the fucking edge off. “Strong like you wanted?”
He gave you a grin, his eyes easier than they were before. You relaxed, realizing you were absolutely feeling that tension with him. You felt especially better when he waved the server back over to ask for a salty dog. That’s more like it.
“Anyway,” he started, swiveling his body to be facing towards you, one arm on the bar. “Sam and Daniel didn’t even have to be subjected to it. They left to meet up with a couple of their other friends before he exploded on me. Just me! And they don’t get those same inklings from him that I do. Being a twin is both a blessing and a curse. I swear we fuckin’ share a brain sometimes.”
His movements, facing you like this on his barstool, made you think of when Jake had sat next to you like this—the night he’d kept you close, taken you home, and then cut things short. Everything you’d felt that night coming back tenfold.
. . . Where was he? It didn’t matter where he was. Really. But you were curious.
“Where is Jake?” You tried to play it cool, because that’s what you were. Cool. It was nothing. You went ahead and softened the question by complimenting his growing hair. “And I like your hair.”
“Thanks. Biotin vitamins, I swear to God,” he patted the sides of his ‘do, giving you a cheeky smirk. “And Jake—. Thank you,” he said to the bartender, giving her a quick wink as she sat his drink on his coaster. “He went back to your place. Didn’t wanna stay around for a good time. He was not in the mood.”
Your heart sank.
What? He’d gone home?
But he'd asked you to come tonight? Had he gotten your texts? Surely he had. There was no reason he wouldn’t’ve. All of a sudden, you felt extremely stupid for sending them. . .for thinking anymore of tonight than you should have. For worrying about him from the balcony. When he didn’t even care to stay to see you.
He was the most unpredictable asshole and you were foolish to think, for even a split second, that he wasn’t.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Luckily, Josh was ready to end the night fairly early.
You were glad because you weren’t in the mood to entertain after having your feelings hurt (stupidly) by Jake leaving and not telling you. It was the smallest thing to be upset over, you knew. Your heart had gotten ahead of you, and into something ridiculous.
On your drive home, you kept telling yourself that you were done with all Jake related thoughts. You shouldn’t give two shits about the man. Really. He’d been a jerk from day one. And even though he’d had a few instances of being someone so wonderful. . . he kept doing things that just reminded you that maybe he was just incapable of being consistent.
You were worried about what you’d go home to. Afraid of hearing him and a girl from his bedroom, seeing them on your couch. . . You were tired of not being able to keep up with him. It was exhausting.
And as much as you told yourself he didn’t matter, you knew you were lying to yourself. You’d made him matter the past couple months—let him matter. Too many times you’d let him get to you. And as much as you wanted to regret it, you couldn’t fully let yourself do that yet.
The stubborn, stupid part of you wanting to give him a chance. Wondering what had happened tonight that got him so upset.
You cared. . .even though you really wished you didn’t.
So as you traipsed through your front door, you were relieved when all of the lights were turned off, and there was no sight or sound of a woman. Only Stevie, who came up to purr against your calves. Feeling bad for your hungry kitty, you quickly went to drop your purse to the table so you could feed her.
But when you looked in her dish, there was already fresh kibble in the bowl. You hadn’t fed her before you’d left. . .
Had Jake . . .? Obviously. Your heart perked at the gesture.
Then, the sound of a guitar being strummed from his bedroom stopped your thoughts. Stevie went to eat, and you left her to do so as you walked towards the sound.
You weren’t choosing your path. . . your feet were simply leading you, your mind hardly keeping up with what you were going to do once you got to his room.
Just felt a want to see him. Talk to him.
Why?
You’d worry about that later. Didn’t want to think about that for the time being.
Once you got to his door, you noticed it wasn't fully closed. You didn’t think as you pushed it open.
And then, there you were. And there he was, facing the door, his concert attire still fully on. He looked up at you from his spot, stopping the strumming abruptly.
But his eyes weren’t kind. He wasn’t happy. He was still feeling the anger Josh had been talking about.
Not giving two shits how he’d react, you didn’t hold back. You were still pissed, too. At him.
“It’s not fucking kind to invite someone to something and then leave them there without a damn hello or goodbye.”
He blinked, his lip curling to show a sarcastic smile. “You’re gonna pull that shit?”
You stepped further into his room, coming close enough to him that your knees were almost touching his, where he sat at the edge of his bed, his hand clutching the acoustic with a tight grip. Too tight.
“What the fuck, Jake? Of course I’m going to ‘pull that shit.’ It was a fuckin’ prick move and I didn’t appreciate it.”
“It’s a prick move to keep someone waiting for a response about whether or not you’ll be somewhere when I can see damn well your schedule on that fridge, saying all week that you didn’t work tonight,” he got up to place his guitar on the stand next to his bed. He kept careful to not touch you as he moved. Wow. He placed it delicately, in stark contrast to his sharp movements. He spun on his heel to face you. “Why don’t you care, y/n? You don’t have to fucking come if you don’t care. I’d rather you stay home if you don’t want to be there when I invite you.”
“What made you think I don’t care?!”
“You kept me hanging! All week,” he angrily brushed a hand through his hair, growling with the motion when a ring got stuck in the locks. “Fuck!” He started pulling down his bed covers, not looking at you as he argued. “You don’t do that when it’s my brother. He wants you there, you’re fuckin’ there. With me, when I ask you, you’re always late and you barely even tell me you’re coming. It’s obvious who you’re really going to see and I’m tired of you acting like you care about me when you really only care about Josh.”
“What?! First of all, you knew I worked the night of your first show. I didn’t want to. . .I got fucking called in— so don’t you dare hold that against me!” You came closer to him, hitting his arm to make him stop the unmaking of his bed. “Quit doing that and fucking listen to me!”
He went rigid, throwing the covers dramatically, stopping like you asked. He stood stiff as a board with his arms crossed at his chest. He motioned a hand for you to continue, almost mocking. “Go on. Enlighten me.”
You shoved his chest. “Stop it!” You crossed your own arms, your heart beating so hard in your chest. “Stop with the Josh shit. Anytime either of you ask, I’m there. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner about tonight. I’ve just been—I don’t know,” you’d been thinking about him. How badly you wanted to do him after the show tonight. “Distracted?”
“School?” He questioned, seeming genuinely concerned.
You shook your head, not wanting to lie. “No. Not school. I don’t know how to explain—,” you looked into his eyes. They were hardening again. “I don’t know. Just distracted.”
He shook his head. He was in the dark. There was no way he’d know the full truth unless you told him. But you weren’t sure how to articulate it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his jaw set. “Thank you, y/n. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
“Jake— seriously. Please sto—.”
“I just—dammit!” He combed a hand through his hair and got the same ring stuck. Having enough, he took the one piece of offensive jewelry off, and placed it delicately on his desk behind him. He locked eyes with you again. “The other night in the bathroom, you—I could have sworn you—but you—you told me— I just can’t keep up!”
“I can’t keep up with you!” You yelled back, momentarily worrying about neighbors. It was very late.
You were at a loss.
You surveyed him, his chest was heaving like yours. Walking a few steps forward, your chest was almost touching his— you softly grabbed at the front of his light red T-shirt, eager for him to hear. His breathing seemed to slow at you being so close. Your eyes held each other, his were questioning.
It was now or never. The frantic beating of your heart, sounding in your ears. You were shaking. You were tired of him thinking he knew best.
What you were most tired of was tiptoeing around—the barely missing each other.
“I’m only asking one more time. What do you want?” He begged, reminding you of Ryan Gosling in The Notebook.
You would have giggled at the similarity if you weren’t feeling the seriousness of this moment.
There was so much to say, but only one thing left to say, all at once. . .
You stood there, sharing breaths, for a few still seconds. Could have been minutes. You were lost in the beautiful gaze of his deep, dark eyes.
Your heart slowed, your breath catching in your throat while your stomach dropped to your knees.
“I want you to fuck me,” you said lowly, grabbing at his shirt with a sturdier hand. You weren’t scared—only sure. So fucking sure. And beyond ready.
His jaw went slack. It almost looked like he wanted to say something to challenge you, but he bit his lip. Instead, he grabbed softly at your jaw, curving his hand up to cradle your head, softly under your flowing hair.
“Well I can fucking do that.” Was all he said as he dove in, securing your lips with his.
He sucked on your bottom lip and penetrated your mouth with his smooth tongue. He tasted like minty gum and cigarettes. Usually, you found it repulsive to kiss someone with the taste of nicotine in their mouth, but with Jake . . . It was suddenly everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss.
You lost yourself in the moment. In him. There was nothing stopping you now.
Continuing to kiss you, he turned you both, until the backs of your legs softly hit the edge of his bed. Taking that as your cue, you went to sit down on the sheets. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his delicious hips right at eye level with you now. He took initiative and pushed them the rest of the way down, stepping out of them.
Then all you could see in front of you was him, bursting at the seams in his pink, AE briefs. Fuck, he was so cute and sexy all at once. You didn’t know how he did it.
Your mouth watered as you went to pull down his briefs. But he put a hand on yours to stop you, the cold metal of his rings a contrast to your heated skin.
You looked up, your eyebrows dipping in question.
“Not yet,” he corrected. Then he took his shirt off, exposing his beautifully soft, tanned, and perfectly toned chest. A long necklace laid against his stomach, and you used it to pull him down to you.
You laid back, his legs coming to rest in between yours as he crawled onto the bed to follow you. He unwrapped the necklace from his neck, putting it on his small bedside table. Using the time he was preoccupied, you pushed his underwear down his thighs, watching his face to see his reaction.
He teasingly rolled his eyes at you.
“Damn, woman,” he chuckled under his breath, showing his perfectly straight teeth. Beautiful man. He finished the job, kicking them off. “One track mind or what?”
Rolling your eyes back at him, you gave a quiet grin and clicked your tongue. “Whatever, Kiszka.”
But he wasn’t wrong. You wanted to see him. Fully.
And you were glad you got your way, because fuck.
He was stunning. Even more so when you could fully see it, without the dimness of the bathroom lights at Baby's. How could a cock be so pretty?
You reached out to touch him. He shivered at the feeling of your cool skin on his heated, swollen flesh. So soft, smooth. . .thick.
Shit.
His precum was already leaking from his pretty pink tip.
Your mouth was watering. Your need to have your hands on him clouded your every thought.
But before you could do anything more than run your fingers over him, he was moving his body to be on top of yours, your hands falling from him. You edged up the bed, him following after you. His eyes were hungry, and his hands were purposeful and strong as he quickly unfastened your jeans, pulling them off in one smooth motion.
Your pussy throbbed at how close it was to happening. How close you were to finally feeling him. Fulfilling the need you’d discovered too long ago.
Taking off your cropped t-shirt as he stripped you of your panties, you hissed as your wet mound met the air of his room. You made quick work of your bra.
He sat above you, gently cupping your bare pussy, while watching your naked chest rise and fall as you took several deep breaths, waiting. You ground into the palm of his hand, needing the friction. He then moved his hands, grazing them up your thighs, hips, waist, and finally let them settle on the outer curve of your breasts.
Your skin grew goosebumps, your nipples hardening to peaks in the cool air of his bedroom. He seemed mesmerized. His mouth was slightly opened, his eyes studying your chest with every breath you took.
“Jake?” You whispered, breaking his stare at your breasts and making him look into your eyes.
“Sorry,” he blinked a few times, shaking his head with a little grin, balancing his hands on either side of your head. He leaned down to give your lips a sweet kiss. “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen all of you . . .,” He leaned on a forearm, and reached to your chest again, holding one breast in his hand, massaging it as his thumb skated over the nipple. “Beautiful,” he praised, looking you right in the eye. Oh, Jake.
Then, his mouth attached to the opposite breast, his lips sucked gently, his tongue flicking out to lick the nipple.
You felt it everywhere, your toes curling at his touch. And with a sigh, you leaned into his mouth, needing more. Needing all he could give.
“Fuck, Jake,” you whined. “Your mouth feels so good.”
And then he switched breasts, making sure to give each the same treatment. . . Holy sweet hell. You were done for.
Your body shook, feeling your nerve endings spasm. No one else had ever stimulated you this much, this way. You didn’t know you could feel so much from a man only lapping at your chest. He was magic.
“Jake,” you keened, your chest pushing further into his mouth. Your hips thrusting up to meet his. Fuck. With both of you having your pants off, he almost entered you at the motion. And damn the temptation was too much. “Shiiiit.”
He continued to worship your chest, and when you met his hips again, he bucked into yours, deliciously rough, matching a thrust. You felt him, hard, and fitting right between your wet folds, so close to being inside you.
You saw stars, closing your eyes.
Fuck.
You heard the softest groan against your breast. You looked down at him, lavishing at your supple skin. One thick brow was raised, but then he pulled them in, in concentration, as he rocked into you again. Shit.
You couldn’t help the cry that escaped you. Or the words that followed.
“Please, Jake. Please,” you didn’t know what you were asking for. Just needed more of him. You pushed your hands into his hair, growing confidence from your position. You pushed his face further into you, and you felt him bite at your nipple. Your hips naturally came to meet his and with all of it—fuck—your moan was pornographic. “I need you,” you pushed up, grinding your hips into his. “Here,” you did it again for emphasis, your pussy aching for him.
He released the nipple he’d been sucking with a pop. There was a snicker at your chest, and you saw the dimple in his cheek when he smirked. But before he did anything else, he moved back up your body, your chests finally touching. He had a hand still holding snug to a breast. He squeezed it once, your clit thrummed at the motion and you once again pushed your front to his.
He kissed the column of your neck softly, trailing kisses from there, all the way to the corner of your mouth. You moved to meet your lips with his, your hand still tangled in his wavy hair.
You kissed lazily for a few minutes, just enjoying the taste of each other. Your pussy still occasionally grazing his impossibly hard front. You’d moan into each other’s mouths every time. . .absolutely euphoric.
When you came up for air, you let yourself get lost in the chocolate pools of his irises. He was so handsome. So pretty. You couldn’t help the hand that came to hold his cheek, the other one still combing through his hair.
He gave the corner of your mouth one more peck before he rasped, moving to give the same kiss to the swell of each of your breasts. “Your tits . . .,” he blew out a breath against your skin, making the flesh erupt in goosebumps. You sighed. “Fuck, y/n. They’re perfect. So soft and full. . .” One more kiss to each, this time with tongue. “Fuckin’ perfect.”
Then his slick tongue was moving from your chest, down your stomach, and over your right thigh. He hitched both of your legs up, to be bent at the knee. Giving him better access to what you knew he was about to do. He gave your pussy the same long look he gave your breast, admiring what was in front of him. He licked his lips at the sight.
Your heart was racing.
And without warning, his tongue found you, flattening on your sensitive clit. It was so hard, with only the slightest direct contact from his tongue, you were bucking your hips into his face. He used two strong hands to grasp and hold your hips to the bed, making sure to soothe your position by making wide, smooth circles with his thumbs in the hidden flushed dips between your thighs and groin.
He then dipped his tongue to curve into the growing wetness between your folds. You gasped as he lapped at your arousal, occasionally moaning into you as he would lick. He continued like that for long enough that you weren’t sure you could see straight. Your legs were weak from your position. It was almost as if he was enjoying this—simply getting to taste you, feel you against his mouth.
And suddenly, you felt your body begin to tremble uncontrollably, your every sense becoming heightened. The feeling of him was all-consuming. You couldn’t deny it any longer, the growing sensation in the pit of your belly threatening to give way at any moment. And he knew it. The work of his mouth became more intense, more fervorous, more hungry. His plush lips working your throbbing cunt into a frenzy until you finally gave in.
He hardly took his mouth off of you, only enough to speak his velvet soft voice against your soaked pussy, his breath hot against the wet skin. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me have it.”
Then it hit you, harder than it ever had. You suddenly realized that you’d been deprived your entire life of this feeling, no man had ever done that to you. Let alone with just his mouth.
You came back to, arching into him as you felt his tongue make a perfect circle around the still-tight bud of your sensitive clit. You could hardly control your tremors as your body had felt the ultimate test of ecstasy.
Then you heard a little whimper from Jake, and you looked down through hazy eyes to see his eyebrows were drawn deeper than you’d ever seen them.
A movement caught your eyes further down. His hips were thrusting, and with each rut of them, he kept forcefully meeting the mattress. You felt his bed shake with each jerk of his hips. Your clit twitched at the sensation of the bed rocking and his mouth on you. You could only imagine what it would be like when he was inside you. You felt the vibration of a growl against your pussy.
“Jake. . .,” you moaned. He hummed against you, which you presumed was a response to you. You hitched your hips up to meet his mouth as he curled his tongue to fit in the small hole between your folds, which gained him an involuntary shake from your body and a whine from you. He then trailed his tongue all the way up from your hidden spot, to hit the sensitive underside of your clit. You groaned loudly at the way his tongue was intermittently flicking against and massaging your overly sensitive bundle of nerves.
He whimpered again, and his brows creased so closely together. You felt another jolt beneath you as the bed shook with a rather forceful thrust from his hips. You knew he was either really enjoying himself or was getting tired and really wanted his own release. From past experience with men, you assumed the latter.
“Jake,” you started scooting your body up the bed. You got flashbacks to nights cut too short when you said his name like that. You knew he did, too, as his mouth lifted from you and his dark eyes met your own.
“You said you wanted this,” he grunted in response, his forehead falling to lay on your thigh in defeat.
“I do, Ja—.”
He interrupted you when he dug his fingers into your hips harder, pulling you back down to meet his slick tongue. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of him lapping at you with the force he was exuding to seemingly keep you in your spot.
You tugged at his hair harder, trying to signal him to stop. As much as you didn’t want him to stop, it wasn’t fair for you to have all of the attention. He needed his release.
He slowly, hesitantly stopped and looked up at you, and you saw his eyes soften the slightest bit at your face. You knew you probably looked concerned, as that was how you were feeling for him.
“Are you okay?” He lifted his body from the spot he’d been laying in between your legs. He laid his body beside yours, and his swollen cock came to heavily sit on top of your leg.
You could have drooled at the sight of it flush against your skin. Fuck.
“You need release, too, Jake,” you combed your fingers through his hair. He wrinkled his brows at that. You continued, “I’ve already finished once; you don’t have to give me any more attention.”
He leaned back a bit, seeming offended. “You don’t want me to keep going?”
You pulled him by his shoulders, back to where he’d been, and reassured. “No, I want you to keep going—Goddamn, babe. . .but I also want to make sure you are able to feel satisfied and taken care of,” you sat up, and moved down the bed, so you were looking right at his thickness. You got him to position himself to be where you just were, his back against the headboard. You stared up at him through your lashes as you spit onto his aching head, then grasped his dick in your hand, all in one fluid motion.
His eyelids dropped, and his Amber-brown irises darkened. You gave him one slight squeeze and you saw the muscles in his thighs tighten and his head fall back slightly. But his gaze stayed on you.
Giving him one more pump, you rolled your thumb over the head. He groaned, but you weren’t able to give him any more attention as he flipped your body to be under his again in one swift motion.
You squinted at him from your new position, “Why can’t I—?”
“You act as if I wasn’t satisfied with what I was doing before,” he retorted, voice low and face right above yours.
“You were obviously wanting more. You were—I wanted to help because you kept. . . thrusting into the mattress,” you blinked up into his sultry glare. “I could tell—.”
“I was fucking the mattress because I loved getting to tongue fuck the hell out of your perfect pussy,” he snapped.
Your body tingled at his words. This man.
But you didn’t want your desire to please him to be ignored. You reflected the glare that was still shading his features. “Why do you always have to get your way?” You argued.
He huffed, “My way?” He went down to bite the inner curve of your right breast. You moaned, feeling your nipples harden even more at the sensation. He continued his way down your body, “If I would have had my way this wouldn’t be—," You thrusted up into his stiff dick again. You smirked when he bit his lip, eyes closing to stave off your distraction. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck, y/n,” his eyes bore into you, then he worked his way down to where he was, once again, settled between your legs. He gave you one lick up your folds. You whispered his name, shaking. So sensitive. So delicious. “Have I wanted your mouth on my dick for a long ass time? Fuck yes. But I’ve also wanted this again. Give me this. I want this.”
“Jake, you don’t have to say that just becau—.”
He closed his eyes and groaned. “Can you not fucking argue with me for once?”
“Can you just fucking listen to me? I want to make sure you—.”
He forcefully entered you with one finger, his thumb reaching up to rub over your hard clit. You threw your head back, looking down at him with lust clouding your vision. You wanted to be angry with him for interrupting you, but dammit . . . you just couldn’t be.
He pumped it in and out a few times before putting the finger in his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning. “You taste so fuckin’ delicious, baby.”
His usage of the pet name made your brain short circuit for a few seconds, but you got distracted from it because suddenly, his face was back, right above yours. His forearms caged you in, on either side of your head. His hair was draping around you like a curtain. It felt so familiar. . .so wonderful.
And now, you knew it was about to happen.
You felt the head of his cock at your entrance, just as you had at Baby’s.
But this time. . .this time it was different. So different. You couldn’t pinpoint how or why—it just was.
You looked down to where your bodies were so close to finally connecting. When you looked into his eyes, you noticed he was waiting for you.
For some reason, you felt as though he’d been studying your face while you were looking away. He seemed so content to simply be watching you, waiting for you, until you found his eyes.
When your eyes met his, you saw the smile that filled his amber-brown irises. It was a sweet moment that felt like it would forever be locked in time. You stayed there, him above you. And somehow, you knew he was waiting for permission. So, you nodded your head.
And without a second thought, his eyes still honing in on yours, he entered you.
You could’ve sang, you were so relieved to feel him like this. Finally.
“So fucking tight,” he grunted, letting his tip meet your most secret spot inside. Ohhh yeah. You wanted to fuckin’ purr.
It had been awhile . . . and Jake had noticed by your tightness. But as he rolled his hips the slightest bit, helping you adjust, hitting you right where you needed him, deep inside—there was no questioning that the man knew what the hell he was doing.
Just like your thoughts earlier tonight. . .he was a natural.
You continued to wince a little, since he was so thick. It took a second to stretch to his size, and he let you, moving around enough from inside to help you. But he felt so damn good, you didn’t want to stay like that for too long. You needed more.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel closer to him. His hair tickled the back of your hand.
Though, when you’d looked back at his face, his eyes were stuck on you, seeming to be caught in a trance, a relaxed, loose grin fitting to his pink lips.
You moved your hips just a bit. He felt you move, and he seemed to come back, his eyes locking in on your lips. He gave into the urge, kissing you, letting his tongue explore your mouth briefly, you doing the same to his mouth.
Then, when you came up for air, breathing so hard, you shared this look. Such fondness behind the gaze. It was almost too much. But like all things with Jake, it felt right.
You played with the ends of his hair, where your arms were crossed at his back. Maybe you could stay like this forever.
But then he moved out slowly, and pushed back into you, hard and to the hilt. You felt his balls hit the bottom of your ass and you almost crossed your eyes at the ecstasy of it all.
He rocked into you like that a few more times, a little slower, moving steadily.
Then he switched things up.
He held your body up, his dick still firmly inside of you as he sat up on his knees, leaning back on his heels. He balanced your ass on his thighs and pushed a pillow up behind you, sitting you up, your back against the headboard. Your legs moved of their own accord to be on either side of his hips.
The position had you completely open to him, as your legs were spread wide, his cock pulsing inside of you. He bit his lip, focusing. It was like he was admiring a piece of art, not able to take his eyes from it. Deep in thought.
And all of a sudden, you felt extremely vulnerable. Every piece of you on full display, save for your backside which sat perfectly on his bare thighs. So, still. He had every piece of you open to him, around him, or on top of him.
You almost spoke, but he beat you to it.
“You are so fucking beautiful, y/n. Dammit,” he said with awe laced beautifully in his raspy voice, hitched on his next words. “This is— you are . . .,” he shook his head, and was never able to come up with the words. Instead, he just continued to let his eyes graze over you.
You felt your entire body heat at his words, the intimacy of all this. You felt emotional hearing the words, being like this with him. It was the most open and vulnerable you’d felt with a man in a long time (maybe ever), and he was seeming to treasure it just as much as you.
His hands held your waist as you tangled a hand in his hair, and looped one arm over his shoulders - both of your chests heaving, needy.
He then brought you forward, until your clit was positioned to rub right below his belly button. You gasped at the full change in position, his cock as deep as it could go. You used the new angle as leverage and went onto the pads of your feet, raising off of him briefly, and then you slowly sank back down onto his throbbing length.
The moan he let out was heavenly. It made you feel like you were on top of the world, the way his mouth hung open. You continued to rise, and sink back down. Long and slow motions that helped you both to feel all of each other. Once you got more confident, you started swiveling your hips as you started to bounce on top of him.
After a few more swings of your hips, he used his hold on your waist and lifted you off of him.
You unabashedly let out a small cry at the loss of him inside you, but you moved with him. You positioned yourself to be on all fours, ass facing him— going with his motions and assuming that’s what he wanted.
The hiss you heard leave his mouth when you were in position, and the way he kneaded your plush ass cheeks with his calloused fingertips made you smirk with victory. You knew exactly what he wanted.
“You like that?” You breathed at him, wiggling your round ass at him, grinding back on his hardness. You felt him quiver at your movement. Then you felt a hard smack against your right asscheek. “Fuck— Jake!”
He soothed the spot, massaging it the slightest bit, and before you had time to fully process the first hit, he went in for another slap on the other cheek.
You jolted with a squeak, surprised, but fully welcoming it.
Fuck yeah. Did he like things rough? If so, you were here for it.
Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you pointedly made eye contact with his hooded gaze. He had a knowing smirk on his face, matching your own expression.
He gave you two more slaps, one for each side, and this time you felt the cold metal of his rings with the hits. Oh fuck.
You pushed back on him, wanting more. His thick cock, snug between your sore cheeks at this angle.
But instead, he flipped you to lay on your back again. Where was this strength coming from? Dear God.
How easily he maneuvered your body, wherever he wanted it to go. . . You bit your lip. Fuck. It was like you were his little instrument, moving you every which way, like he threw his guitar behind his head so effortlessly—that was you right now.
Your core convulsed at the thought.
Jake set an arm next to your head, and the other above, almost cradling it to not hit the headboard. Then he sunk his pulsing dick into your waiting, dripping cunt. At this point, you were getting fairly acquainted with his size, so you grabbed his perfectly round backside, burying him the deepest he could be in you.
You also used this position to sway your hips up, each stroke on his dick intentional. Throwing in a little trick of yours, you tightened your muscles to grip his length with each roll of your hips, making him fit even more snug, inside of you.
“Oh baby,” he groaned at the feeling, the first time you did it. And after a few more, he tapped your hip. “If you don’t stop, I’m not gonna last.”
He was trembling above you. His arm was shaking next to your head.
“Y/n, baby—fuck,” he grunted, tapping at your hip harder. He wasn’t ready to be done. Neither were you. So you tapped him right back, motioning for him to move off of you.
After he’d moved, you went to lay partially on your side and partially on your belly. You lifted your ass to indicate you were ready. And in one smooth move, his chest was against your back, his arms back where they were before, but in the new position. He slowly slid in, feeling out the new angle.
You loved it. One of your new favorites.
“I love this fuckin’ view of you, y/n,” he groaned, his breath hitting your shoulder. “And the way you feel like this—goddamn.”
He was filling you up, all the way, except this time, you had the combined feeling of him inside, while his smooth sac hit your pussy with each languid pump of his hips.
You watched how his bicep and fist flexed at the same time, with each thrust, so purposeful.
Damn him for being so sexy.
His hips started moving quicker, almost of their own accord. And before you knew it, he was pounding into you, his balls slapping hard against you.
The sounds—the way it felt— perfection.
Your toes curled. Ecstasy. He kept hitting your hidden spot inside; your clit was getting friction from his sheets; and the back of your pussy was getting attention, too. Fuck. This position was going in the books.
Without warning, you felt the arm next to you move, his hand going to sweep swift circles on your swollen bundle of nerves.
“Jaaaake,” you whined, sounding completely pathetic. Sweat was beading at your forehead. Your folds were spasming, your pussy ready to let go. “Fuck, baby.”
You couldn’t hold it anymore. All of it combined—the loud slaps of flesh, the sweat, his hand, the pressure of his pretty dick stretching your tender pussy- hitting every part of you—damn.
You came for the second time that night with a curl from your hands and toes, and a loud sob.
“Doing so good, y/n,” he pushed his chest closer to your back, feeling your release against his hand and helping you ride the wave. And all of a sudden, his hips started rutting, so erratically against your ass, his dick pulsing inside with each roll of his hips. “I’m gonna—where do you—fuck! Y/n—.”
Shit. You almost forgot. You weren’t on the pill. You’d just gone off a few months ago. Shit shit shit shit.
Momentarily snapping from your hazy afterglow, you grasped his hip. “Dammit—on my back!”
Thankfully, he pulled out in time, and with a small moan from his perfect lips, hot spurts of his cum met your back, shiny from sweat.
After, he laid above you, one shaking arm still above you, the other now holding your tummy. Okay, now you hated this position. You couldn't easily flip to see his face. And you wanted to see him.
He made quick work of reaching for his T-shirt from earlier to clean off your back.
“Wanna see your face,” he sighed, rubbing at your shoulder.
You grinned at the sentiment, wanting so desperately to see him, too. So, you rolled onto your back, letting an arm fall above your head, and the other lay across your stomach, replacing where his had been. In a daze, you watched him as he cleaned up his cock, still glistening from your climax.
Changing your line of sight, you let yourself watch his face as he cleaned himself. His lips were slightly parted, his top lip curled a bit to show some of his top row of teeth. He was focused. And damn he looked good like that.
But you already knew that.
Finally, he was done, and he threw the shirt over the side of the bed, joining the pile of clothes on the ground.
He went to lay just as you had, but with extended an arm for you to curl into.
You should have left. Gone back to your room. You’d gotten what you wanted.
And this was wrong. If it went too far, it could seriously hurt Jake. Make Josh impossibly angry with you for corrupting his brother. . .
But before you could even begin to move, focus too hard on any reasonable thought whatsoever, your head filled with Elsie’s voice, wise with the conversation you’d had that day, in the entryway.
“I’m saying. . .what if it’s possible he could just want you in his bed and nothing else?” She’d scratched her head. “Would that hurt anything or anyone? I mean, you’ve made it seem to me that you don’t really have any emotional attachment to him. So if you did that, who would it hurt?”
You glanced up at his face, his eyes drooping to follow the sleep you were also craving. His lids fluttered against his smooth skin - his sharp features. Yeah, you were good on that, still . . . no emotional attachment. But he was nice to look at.
Your voice from that day sprang to your mind, fighting.
“Elsie, that’s a stupid plan that could go horribly wrong,” she’d gasped at your insult to her idea. And you’d leveled her with a stare. “And you know it.”
“I do, I do,” she’d reassured. “But what if you just cut it off when it starts to feel like too much?”
You looked to his hands, drumming mindlessly against his hard, tanned stomach. His mouth hummed an unknown tune. You wanted to sink into him. But you knew you could cut it off. You were a pro at that.
“You think I could do that?” You hadn’t been able to believe you were actually starting to give substance to her idea in your head.
(And here you were doing it again.)
“You’re pretty damn good at burying things right down to the pits of hell, so. . .,” She’d blinked at you, almost innocently with her savage plan leaving her lips. “What’s the harm in giving it a shot? I mean, just one time, at least?”
So, you used your sister’s words from the past as your pass to let yourself be exactly where you wanted to be right now: in his warm, safe, strong arms. It had been now one time. You'd given it a shot. . .
But what if . . .?
And just as you settled into him, your cheek resting on his toned pec, his heart beating steadily underneath, you heard the last of Elsie’s words from that conversation, inspiring you even more to do this.
To force some substance on this otherwise ridiculous, horrible idea.
She’d glanced to the side, letting her eyes wander mysteriously for a second. “I think it would be good for you to live on the edge. Just once.”
And that was all you needed in that sweet, quiet moment, letting yourself cozy up, right into Jake’s chest. . .feeling him kiss the crown of your head.
Tomorrow could worry about itself.
Because right now? Right now, you were the most blissed out - the most comfortable you’d ever been.
You weren’t fucking ready to lose this yet, dammit.
And as you drifted off, seconds later, his soft snores lulling you peacefully, you could only hope that he wasn’t ready to lose this—whatever the hell this was—yet, either.
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: i'm so ready to share what's coming... i wish i could tell you guys (gn)!! it's killingggg me. anywayssss... please let me know your thoughts! you know i love hearing from you all :) <3
(I will say, I've been giving sporadic hints from the first chapter of what's to come. . . hmmm. who thinks they can guess what's going to turn Reader's life upside down?)
if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!
& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)
Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf
#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka smut#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet fanfic#jake fic#jake kiszka#covet#my fics
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[1.6k] your co-worker eddie munson had a knack for making you blush so it was only fair to return the favour.
.
Nobody was a bigger flirt than Eddie Munson.
Whether it was intentional or not, at least everybody who had ever spoken or interacted with the boy could vouch that he was a flirt. It was like a switch he couldn’t quite turn off, or a dial that was turned all the way to full. He was a flirt no matter who it was or what the situation was.
And despite the reputation he held around town and what people whispered when he thought they couldn't hear, nobody was immune to Eddie Munson’s flirting because he was just so goddamn good at it.
You didn’t quite understand how or why, but he was.
Hell, you had seen a lady pushing her eighties fully fucking blush because Eddie apparently had enough game to even catch a senior citizen if he wanted to.
Eddie Munson was a big fucking flirt and the reason you knew that so well was because you worked with him.
You had both started around the same time at the record store. It was a small establishment, based downtown but it was loved and a staple in the community. From second-hand records to new tapes, to old instruments donated in to even some half decent equipment, the store had everything you’d want as a music fanatic for an affordable budget.
You guessed pretty quickly that was why Eddie loved it.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the boy loved nothing more in his life than music. He treasured his tapes like they were his most prized possession, he treated his guitars better than some people treated their kids and he could ramble on for hours if you let him (and sometimes you did let him because you liked the sound of his voice).
For you, it was more so that you needed a job and a vacancy happened to pop up. You were nowhere near as passionate or well-versed as Eddie was, with your instrumental skills going as far as being able to play a solid two chords on the piano without it sounding too bad. But you clearly knew enough to be hired, plus you were more in charge of the genres Eddie didn’t really dabble into.
It took a solid week of working with Eddie Munson for you to realise he was a flirt.
It took a solid five minutes for Eddie to work out that nothing got you blushing like some good ol’ cheesy pick up lines.
And as the weeks passed and you two continued to work and share shifts together, an unspoken game had sort of settled between the two of you. One that neither of you ever really established, nor did you set down any rules. But it was a game you both went along with for reasons neither of you were quite sure of.
“Hey, sweetheart?”
You let out a small hum of acknowledgement, not looking away from the pile of vinyls you were currently sorting through. Whatever asshole that had taken the shift before you had done it all wrong and now you were left cleaning up their mess.
“Are you a parking ticket?”
You paused what you were doing, lifting your head to stare at the grinning boy who stood on the other side of the counter from you. “What?”
Eddie’s grin only seemed to widen with your obliviousness. “Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you, baby.”
You let out an amused snort, tucking your chin against your chest in hopes that he wouldn’t see the blush growing on your cheeks but he always did. He always fucking did.
And you never understood why you reacted the way you did. The pickup lines were nothing short of horrendous or bad. They were funny, sure you would give them that and you were almost certain he was reading them from some bad book or magazine, but you never quite understood why they made you blush.
That never mattered to Eddie, because he loved to see the way your cheeks grew pink and the way you tried to act like they didn’t affect you. He liked pushing your limits, seeing how flustered he could get you in different situations, to see if you’d ever tell him to stop—but you never did.
“We have a new shipment coming in later this week,” you told the older man on the other side of the phone, leaning against the counter as you went through the same speech you had already given him three times. “I would be happy to note down your name and reserve a copy for you to come and pick up.
Blah Blah Blah
���Yes, I know this is frustrating, sir, but it is all we can do at the moment.”
Blah Blah Blah
“Yes, I can give you a few moments to think over your options.”
You had been so caught up in the phone call that you hadn’t even noticed Eddie approaching you until you felt the heat of his body pressed up against your back, an involuntary small noise squeaking past your lips when his hands rested on either side of the counter, essentially caging you in.
He didn’t say or do anything at first, his mere presence driving your senses into overload as you tried to act like the proximity didn’t bother you, that you were fully capable in acting like he wasn’t there. And you probably could have lied to yourself if it weren’t for the fact you weren’t even totally sure you were still holding the phone or not.
And then he leaned his head down, the curls of his hair tickling against the skin of your neck and his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he leaned close enough so his lips were almost touching your skin. And then, only after holding that position for what felt like hours, did he finally fucking speak.
“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.”
And just like that, he was gone. Fucking gone. Leaving you with burning cheeks, a thundering heart in your chest and a very pissed off customer on the other side of the phone.
It wasn’t until the three month mark when it became clear to you just what the game between you and Eddie was—and then again, you only realised it because it was spelt out to you by a mutual friend, Steve Harrington, who had all but enough of the runaround games you two were playing.
Because yeah, Eddie was a pretty boy. And yeah, he made your heart feel like it was gonna beat out of your chest and your stomach erupt in butterflies. And yeah, sometimes you just wanted to pull him closer and drag your fingers through his girls and down his shirts where you knew he hid a slightly toned stomach from the times you ogled him when his shirt rode up and—
Yeah, it was honestly a little embarrassing that it took Steve saying it to you for you to realise you had a crush on your co-worker.
And even more embarrassed when your friend told you that all those cheesy fucking pickup lines were Eddie’s stupid little way of trying to ask you out, to get your attention and see if you reciprocated any of his feelings.
So, with some newfound determination and an urge to reimburse the three months of running around in circles over the stupid little game that formed between you both, you had a plan set in place.
A plan that seemed to work perfectly on the next shift you shared together.
It was the closing shift, the sign had already been turned over at the door and you both were just cleaning up the shop for the morning shift. The radio was humming with music, filling the space as you shuffled around each other until you had to move some boxes into the storage room in the back.
You could see the glint in Eddie’s eyes that told you he had a pickup line planned, that there was one on the tip of his tongue and he was excited to use it on you. You couldn’t remember when you started noticing it, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your chest warm at the mere sight.
Grabbing the last box, you shuffled into the small storage room, struggling with a small huff to get the box on the shelf until a pair of arms wrapped around you, easing the box onto the shelf like it weighed nothing.
Letting out a small sigh, you turned to face the boy and flushed him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem, sweetheart,” he said with a grin, and you knew he was gonna say it. You knew it was right there, ready to spill past his lips but you bet him to it.
“Hey Eddie?”
He paused for a second. “Yeah?”
“Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”
Eddie blinked. And then blinked again. And then blinked a third time because he was still not sure he heard you right.
“What?”
A grin slowly started to spread across your face. “I said, kiss me if I’m wrong but—”
“Yeah, you’re fucking wrong,” he grumbled before he reached to grab your face in his hands, his lips on yours before you even had the chance to say anything.
Your hands tightened on the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer until your back was pressed against the shelves of boxes and his body was pressed completely against yours. You let out a soft moan when his tongue swiped over your lip, teasing you, taunting you.
“Guess those pickup lines worked after all, huh?” he whispered against your lips and you could feel the smile on his lips.
You snorted, slapping his chest lightly. “Don’t push it, Munson.”
“Oh baby, it’s only gonna get worse now that I know you can kiss like that,” Eddie said with a grin that told you he was pretty damn serious about his threat.
“At least take me on a date first.”
His grin widened. “Deal, sweetheart.”
.
#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson oneshot#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n#stranger things fic#stranger things one shot
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Higher (II Oneshot)
After years of constant conflict in your relationship with II, you’ve finally hit the breaking point after two consecutive nights of distress that somehow involved him.
Word Count: 8.2k
Content warning: intense situations, excessive drinking, smoking, intentions of SA, fighting, some bondage, dominant male, submissive female
~~~
“And I know we instigate, go back and forth, lacerate. ‘Cause you can remember only when you’re alone, I am granting you more than the debt that I owe.”
—————————
The bell atop of the door rang as it swung open, making you stop the task you were doing and come around from the back room. You wiped the dust that had collected on your hands along the soft denim of your jeans, trying to make yourself a little more presentable for the customer that just walked in.
“Hi there, welcome to-” You stopped in your tracks when a very familiar face came into view. “Vessel? What are you doing here?” The words came out as excited squeaks when you saw one of your closest friends in the world standing in front of the metal section at the record store.
“Figured you still worked here so I decided to stop by and pay you a visit.” He held his long arms open for a hug, you quickly jumped into them and held him tight. It was so refreshing to see your friend after so long as he’s been busy doing the thing he loved most: traveling the world and playing his music.
You peaked an eye open while you embraced him and noticed his shorter companion. He shuffled through the box of vinyls in front of him, clearly doing his best to ignore every part of the interaction between you and Vessel.
II. Vessel’s closest friend, (besides you of course), and the drummer of his band. For years ever since the band started, the two of you had some sort of hatred for the other. Whenever you were invited to watch them rehearse or even write music, he met you with a cold shoulder and never enjoyed your company.
It was all so strange to you this random hatred from him but you took it and kept it tucked away in the hidden depths of your mind. So now, seeing him here with Vessel was a bit strange knowing he did everything he could to stay away from you.
“So,” Vessel said as he pulled away. “What’s new with you?” Your lip curled into a wide grin at the sound of the groan that came from II, clearly indicating he did not want to know what’s “new with you”. So, you began rambling on and on about everything going on in your life since you last saw Vessel. Although some of the things you did mention over the phone a few times, being able to fully explain in person is what you preferred.
After about twenty minutes of talking and updating each other, the bell for the back door rang and you groaned loudly. “They couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Who?” Vessel called as you started walking to the back door.
“Fucking shipment. They said either today or tomorrow they were bringing in a huge shipment of restock and new stuff.” You let the delivery guy in to put the boxes around the backroom, watching as they piled up and up. You thanked the guy and signed what you needed to, then closed the door and sighed at the large stacks. It was about to be a long night. With no one else here to help you out, you were going to be staying late to get all of it done.
You shuffled back out to where the guys were, finding them marveling at some of the albums they found. “Hate to do it to you guys, but I gotta kick you out so I can get all the shipment started.”
Vessel looked up and had sadness in his eyes. “You can’t get anyone in to help you?”
You gently kicked at the nearest shelf of record slips. “No. It’s frustrating being the only person with the most open availability. It’s okay, when I close the store I’ll just crank up some music and power through it.” Just another thing leading you to quitting your job and finding something better to do, something you actually enjoy doing and nothing that will cause you as much stress as this place has.
“Well…” Vessel glanced at II who was busy reading the back of an album. “Would it be wrong for us to help you out?”
II’s head shot up at that. “What?”
A smirk threatened to break through your frown. “Seeing that I’m the manager here, I don’t think it would be a problem.” Vessel jabbed II in the side after he muttered something you couldn’t hear.
“Put us to work, boss.”
————
The lock clicked into place as the clock hit 8pm. The day was over for the store, but for you it was really just getting started. You did any final adjustments to any of the displays that might’ve been moved out of place and then headed into the backroom, where the conversation between Vessel and II lured you in.
They both worked on separate boxes, organizing the new items in the way you directed them to. Despite his protesting, II was actually making quicker work than Vessel and seemed to be enjoying himself a bit. But, they were both constantly getting distracted by the new stuff.
“Alright guys.” You sighed, noting the pile of boxes was still huge and they really didn’t get through much in the two hours they’ve been back here. “I’m gonna crank some music and you can’t complain about what I put on.”
“But can we make requests?” Vessel asked.
“Absolutely not.” You connected your phone to the speaker that was kept in the backroom and hit shuffle on the mega playlist of songs you loved. You knew there would be songs the two of them both liked, so you picked out the ones they like and queued them up. The least you could do for all the help they’re giving you.
Another hour passed by, and with you now working on the boxes the pile was quickly shrinking. Until, Vessel paused and looked at his phone. His brows furrowed as you watched him quickly type back some response to the message he received.
“I hate to be the one to quit first, but I’ve got a cat emergency.” He explained his girlfriend Rae had sent him frantic texts that their cat escaped and she can’t find it. “I’m really sorry Y/N.”
You suppressed the eye roll. “It’s alright.” You jerked your head in II’s direction. “I’m assuming you were his ride here?”
“I was.” Vessel pocketed his phone and looked over at II who was busy organizing the newer albums in alphabetical order. “You coming, II?” The shorter one pulled his attention from the stacks, his bright blue eyes gleaming bright.
“Actually… I’d like to stay, if that doesn’t bother Y/N.” He said, subconsciously tapping along to the beat of the song playing.
You could feel Vessel’s gaze on you as you decided between your options. Stay here and deal with II but simultaneously get out of here a lot quicker… or have him go with Vessel and you’ll be here for a long time when you’re already beyond exhausted?
“I’d greatly appreciate it if you stayed.” You saw Vessel do two dramatic turns, one to you and one to II like the craziest thing just came out of your mouth. “Just don’t get in my way.” II gave you a small nod and went back to what he was doing.
Vessel grabbed his things and then wrapped you in a tight hug. “Don’t murder each other, please.” He murmured into your ear.
“No promises.” You whispered back, giving him a wink as he pulled away. He waved goodbye to the both of you and left through the backdoor, since you were too lazy to let him out the front.
You sighed and grabbed the next box for you to work on, letting the music lure you into a focus where nothing else in the room mattered besides getting this shit done.
————
You didn’t know what time it was as you pulled one of the last five boxes out of the stack. You were exhausted and lightheaded, the lights back here were making your head pound and induce more of those nerve racking black spots in your vision.
You let out a deep breath and inhaled another, trying to steady your body so you wouldn’t pass out. Your grip on the box was slipping as you could feel your hands grow weak. Fuck, this is really going to happen, isn’t it?
The box slid from your hands and hit the floor with a loud thud as the black spots completely clouded your vision. There was a distant shout but it was all muffled for you as your body hit the floor.
Even with your vision completely gone and the use of your body no longer in your control, you could still hear the very, very muffled sounds of the racing footsteps approaching you and your name being called.
What felt like an eternity soon began to pass as you regained consciousness. You could feel the pair of hands pressed against the sides of your head, the sound of your name becoming clearer as II’s features flooded your vision. His bright blue eyes were wide with worry although his body seemed to relax a bit.
“Christ, Y/N.” He bit out. “Had me worried I was about to be part of an investigation.” You rolled your eyes and went to sit up, pushing his hands away from your face. The movement made your head swirl again and you fell back a bit, only to be caught by II. “You look terrible. Are you ill?”
“No.” You mumbled. He placed his hand on your forehead to check for a fever, the only thing he found was your hand swatting him away. “I’m fine, II. The exhaustion and no breaks today just got to me.” You glanced around at the boxes still left. “You can leave now, let Vessel know he can get you.”
“You know it’s one in the morning, right?” He stood up, holding a hand out for you to take. “He would not be awake right now, plus I think the best thing for me to do would be to get you home and get something in your stomach. Here.” He handed you a water that he must’ve found in the fridge back here.
You reluctantly took it. “I don’t need you to look after me, I’m going to be fine.” After taking a long sip of the cool water and a few deep breaths, you say, “An Uber would work just fine for you to get home. I have to get this done.”
His hand wrapped around your arm and stopped you in your place. “Listen, with the way you look right now and with you just passing out, I’m not gonna let you keep overworking yourself. Now give me your keys so I can drive you home.” He stared you down, clearly not about to back away from this offer and become as stubborn as he needs to be. And in all honesty, you really did feel like shit and it worried you that you could pass out driving home.
A triumphant smirk was plastered on II’s face as you sat in the passenger seat of your own car. Luckily you didn’t live too far and at this time of night the roads were basically empty, so you did not have to spend any more time than necessary with him.
“Thank you.” You muttered as you sat at a red light.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that.” The boasting tone basically dripped off his tongue, making you cross your arms and glare at him.
“I said thank you.”
“Ah, I thought that’s what I heard.” He chuckled and tapped the steering wheel. “You’re welcome.” You remained silent for the rest of the ride, not wanting to boost his ego anymore.
Your apartment building came into view and the second he parked the car you raced out. Walking as quickly as possible to get into the building. A quick whistle from behind stopped you in your tracks. “Don’t you need your keys to get inside, love?” Your blood boiled at the name and you turned back, marching over to him and snatching the keys from his hand. “Do I get another ‘thank you’?”
It took everything in you to not explode in anger at him. Why, why? You’ll never understand the issue between the two of you. All you’ve shown him since you met was kindness, but now you don’t think that was going to make him like you in the tiniest bit. It bothered you, it truly did despite all the times you’ve told yourself that it didn’t.
You turned back and gave him a tight smile. “Goodnight, II.” You couldn’t care less that you’re leaving him out here in the cold at two in the morning, you didn’t care that he didn’t have a car to get him home or was going to have to order himself an Uber. You just wanted him to leave.
And he did. You watched from the shadows of your door as he walked away, down the street and into the night.
“Fucking men.” You hissed and slammed the door shut.
————
It was late in the morning when you eventually rolled out of bed. You decided you had a rough enough night that calling off was the best choice you could ever make. Coffee and a chocolate chip muffin screamed your name as you walked into your kitchen, immediately stuffing your mouth with the muffin and getting your coffee machine going.
Your phone buzzed multiple times from where you’d plugged it in on the counter. Last night you kept it out here rather than in your room so you had no other choice but to get out of bed if you wanted it.
You finally checked your phone after your coffee was finished and realized you had an annoying amount of messages, most of which were from Vessel:
II let me know what happened, you okay?
Y/N if you need to go to the doctor let me know I’ll bring you over there.
?? Did you die??
The latest text came through: Open your door I can hear you chewing.
You groaned and looked through the peephole of the door, Vessel was in fact standing outside and waiting for you to answer. Once you opened the door he stepped inside, assessing you from afar.
“You weren’t answering my texts and I got worried.” He said.
You shrugged. “I decided sleeping in was a good thing.” Vessel took the muffin you offered him and sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen.
“You okay?”
“Mmm I think so. Didn’t hit my head or-”
“I’m not talking about that. What else is bothering you?” Fuck, he was still really good at reading you. He leaned back and took small pieces of the muffin, putting them in his mouth as he waited for you to answer. “Did II say something to you?”
You shook your head. “No. I guess I’m just kinda fed up with this hatred between us and I still don’t understand what I did to him to cause it.” You sat in the chair across from him and rested your head in your hands. “After last night it’s becoming increasingly frustrating. He seemed to be worried about me but then still found a way to be a complete dick to me.”
Vessel studied you for a long while as you picked at the skin around your nails, waiting for his response. “I know he has… reasons for why he’s not fond of you, but I should not be the one speaking for him.”
“Well how am I supposed to get an answer if he avoids any kind of interaction with me? Vessel, please I am begging you to just tell me.” You sounded pathetic, like a child who isn’t able to convince their parents to let them do something.
Vessel tapped the table for a moment while he thought. “Have you considered why II disliking you is making you so angry?” He had a look on his face that he always did when he was beginning to get to the bottom of things.
“What are you getting at?”
A slight smirk flashed on his face before it turned back to his relaxed expression. “Since you’re off today, you should come to the pub later with all of us. I promise III and IV will be there on time so you can get shit faced with them and not have to worry about a certain someone.”
You raised a brow at the invitation. He had the look in his eyes that he was not about to let you decline the invite. You thought it over, a night out would be really fun especially with their group. But would it be worth the hellish hangover tomorrow?
Absolutely.
————
It wasn’t long before you were sitting squished between III and IV in the back of an Uber on your way to the pub they all frequent at. Vessel and Rae sat in the two seats in front of you and II got stuck in the passenger seat. Thankfully, nowhere near you and out of your line of sight. You felt a bit embarrassed the more you thought about what happened and it got worse the moment you saw him when everyone gathered at III’s place for a quick pregame.
You were thankful as soon as the car pulled up to the pub and you were able to get out of that stuffy thing. Taking one look at the pub though, and you knew you were going right back into another stuffy spot.
IV hooked his arm with yours and pulled you into the building with him, basically running to the bar to put an order in for the group. The bartender gave you (and only you) a free drink because he thought you were the hottest person in the room, which of course you fought him on but he insisted.
“Y/N snagged a free drink!” IV shouted to the group when we got to where they found an open table. We handed the drinks to everyone and did a quick cheer. “I think you should go back and snag his number.”
“Oh please, IV. He’s not my type and honestly, was probably just handing me a drink he made wrong.” You took a sip, the thought occurred that you didn’t even ask him what it was. Whatever he made was really fruity though, which you didn’t mind.
“Nah dude you definitely caught his eye.” IV put some emphasis by pointing to the outfit you put on. “You do know how to dress.”
You patted his shoulder. “Thank you, IV.” It was a kind compliment that you needed to hear, especially from someone who has some of the best style you’ve seen.
You were extremely thankful that III and IV came along because they kept you preoccupied with their stories from being on tour. Your mind was completely at ease and you genuinely forgot about the situation with II at some points.
The pub was full of people now, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of chatter overwhelming your mind. Most of the time you would shy away from being in such a public place with so many people crowded inside but tonight it felt right. With some alcohol in your system giving you a little boost of confidence, you found yourself chatting with strangers and being way more outgoing than you have ever been. You were sure it made things a little harder for the guys since they were now on the verge of needing to babysit you.
“Alright, I think that’s enough.” Vessel said as he pulled you away from a couple of guys who were eyeing you like a pack of lions finding their prey. “Enjoy your night.” He pushed you back to the group, all who were watching with a slight worry in their eyes.
You sat down at the table and propped your elbows on the surface. “You’re no fun, Ves. Those guys were really nice.”
“They were eyeing you like you were their dinner darling. I don’t think you would’ve enjoyed them for much longer.” III said as he patted your arm. You rolled your eyes and took a long sip of the drink in front of you. “Maybe slow down on these too.” His hand wrapped around the glass and pulled it out of your reach.
“Aw c'mon!” You reached for it but he just pulled it further away from you.
He motioned to everyone at the table. “We’re all on our second drink, Y/N. This is your sixth. Probably best if you slow down a little bit and not get too crazy.”
“I’ve had a shit week I need a distraction-”
“Getting embarrassingly drunk is a distraction?” II scoffed from the other end of the table.
Anger rushed your veins as you made eye contact with him. “Yes, it is actually.” Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the edge of the table as you stood up. “Now, I’m going to go be ‘embarrassingly drunk’ elsewhere if you all don’t like it.” You turned away from them and back into the crowd of people.
You danced for what felt like hours. Random people would join you for a song, singing at the top of their lungs with you as the music flowed through your body. This felt good. It was something else that controlled your mind, not work and definitely not the bullshit with II. Oh how you felt so free.
A pair of hands rested on your hips as you swished them back and forth. You turned and found yourself facing one of the men from before; Keegan? Kyle? Kendall? You couldn’t remember his name.
“We meet again, beautiful.” He says over the music. All you do is nod and continue dancing, not paying much attention to him since the song playing was a good one. “You really know how to move those hips doll. Care to show me what else you can do with them?”
Your brain felt foggy as it processed his words. “I’m just going to stick to dancing.” The words slurred off your tongue as you backed up out of his grip, only to be met with his fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt.
“You’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.” He gritted through his teeth, the feeling of his nails leaving marks on your skin now becoming unbearable.
“Let me go, you creep!” You pushed as hard as you could, not caring if it would send you falling to your ass. He didn’t budge. This man must’ve had a lot of weight on him to the point where he was impossible for you to move.
Your feet started dragging towards the doors of the pub and you tried your hardest to stop the movement but you couldn't. He was taking you home no matter what and a sinking feeling pulled at your stomach knowing that everything was really about to go to shit. The cool air met your red-hot face as he brought you outside. You were absolutely fucked.
The smell of a cigarette caught your attention and you glanced at where it came from, hoping to find a way out of this man’s grip. Your eyes landed on II as he leaned against the building while he smoked. This fucker better have some sort of human decency when it comes to you.
His bright blue eyes went wide when he noticed you, your feet dragging along the concrete of the sidewalk since the man gave you no chance to walk yourself.
“Hey!” He shouted, tossing the cigarette to the ground and jogging over. “Y/N…” He gave you one look over with worried eyes and then turned to the man. “I don’t know what you’re doing with her, but I’m going to need you to hand her to me. She’s drunk and doesn’t know better.”
“What are you, her boyfriend or something?” The man huffed.
He shook his head. “No, I’m just the only one out here who’s looking after her. Now just hand her to me and we can go about our lives.” His fingers dug even deeper into your hips, more than you thought was possible at this point and he began pulling you away as he laughed.
“I’m going to get on with my life and fuck her till she’s nothing.” He emphasized the point with a hard smack on your ass. You winced at the pain that ripped through you and knew that left a mark.
“You touch her like that again and you’re gonna lose a fucking hand.” Your eyes widened at those words, you’d expect to hear that from one of the other guys but II? That was a shock.
In a second you were shoved to the ground, scraping your knees and palms as you tried to break your fall a bit. “Fine. Looks like I’m kicking your ass and then getting on with my life.” You watched with tears blurring your vision as the man launched at II. It was an equal fight, but the crowd that drew because of it suddenly became too much and you cried for them to stop.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw familiar figures rushing to you. III knelt down and pulled you into his arms as Vessel and IV broke up the fight. You sobbed against III’s chest as the others calmed II down and left the guy with another mark on his face.
The crowd dispersed since the excitement had passed, leaving you a sobbing mess in III’s arms. “Y/N are you okay?” Vessel asked, his eyes running over you and making a quick assessment on your physical condition.
“She’s fucked up right now man, probably should get her home.” III says as he rubs small circles on your back. Vessel nodded and helped you get up from the ground, keeping a tight hold on your arms as you steadied yourself. You felt II’s eyes on you the whole time as he stood a few feet away with IV. He didn’t come out of the fight too bad, just a busted lip and a black eye that was making an appearance on his face.
“Why would you do that for me?” You sobbed. His body stiffened at your words and he seemed taken aback by what you said.
“He was going to hurt you, Y/N! Why would I just let that happen?”
“Because you hate me.” A flash of hurt crossed his eyes and you turned away as quickly as you could. You just wanted to get home and cry yourself to sleep. What started off as a fun night turned into a complete nightmare, and you wanted nothing more to do with it.
————
The sun was warm on your face as it beamed into your room. You opened your eyes and saw Rae as she opened the curtains to let in some light. She smiled at you when she noticed you were awake, then handed you a water bottle and some ibuprofen.
Last night she decided that Vessel and her should stay the night to make sure you were alright in the morning. She ended up sleeping in your bed while he took the couch, thankfully not batting an eye when you started to cry and she held you till you fell asleep.
Your head wasn’t yet to the point of extreme discomfort but you still took the water and the medicine just to get ahead of the pain and thirst you felt.
There was a light knock on your door, Rae went over and let Vessel in. He gave you a small wave as he embraced her and kissed her gently. “How are you feeling?” He sat at the edge of the bed and gave your hand a tight squeeze.
“Could be better.” You say. “But it could also be worse.” A smile pulled at his lips and he patted your leg.
“I knew you’d be alright, you always are.” He stood up and glanced over to Rae who watched the interaction with a smile on her face. “We’ve got to get home, but just wanted to make sure you were okay. Is there anything you need us to get you before we go?”
You chuckled at the offer. “No, I don’t need to be babied that much. Thank you guys for sticking around though.” You stood up and went to see them out, not wanting to be a jerk after they helped you last night. “I will see you later. Get home safe please.”
They left your apartment, letting you take a deep breath now that you were alone. Last night was a blur and you could only remember small bits and pieces of it. You felt disgusting. A shower was the only thing that could make you feel better and that’s what you did.
You let the water run until it was steaming hot. As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, all you could do was try not to cry while you peeled your clothes off. Bruises and scrapes littered your skin. A gasp left your body as you took in the dried blood and the fingermarks left as bruises around your hips. The man really bruised you up and you knew you weren’t going crazy when it felt like he was piercing your skin.
The other thing that made you cringe was the red outline of a handprint where he’d smacked your ass last night. You sighed at the sight of your battered body and wiped the tear threatening to fall away.
You sat on the floor of your shower and just let the water wash away the misery of last night. The tears mixed in with the water as you recalled as much as you could; the man dragging you away while no one even tried to stop him, you couldn’t remember if you asked for help or not. It was blurry in your mind, until the thought of the fight that went down. That remained so vividly in your memory that you could picture it all happening, as if you were stuck there in time watching it over and over again.
It was still such a shock that II would ever stand up and fight for you the way that he did. He walked away with minor injuries but it really could’ve ended up worse for him. And he didn’t seem to care or really even think about the possibility.
You remember what you had said and the pain that flashed in his eyes at your words. An ache began to build in your chest as you really thought about it. Now he must think you’re the worst person in the world because you couldn’t even say ‘thank you’ for what he did.
By the time your skin was on the verge of melting off, you decided to get out of the shower and sulk on your couch instead. You found leftover pizza in your fridge to eat and you chose to do so with your favorite movie on.
You didn’t realize how much time had gone by until your apartment was pitch black as another movie ended and the credits began to roll. You glanced at the time on your phone and swore to yourself. A six hour movie marathon? You felt like punching yourself for it but based on how relaxed you felt, it suddenly wasn’t such a bad thing.
As you sat up to find another movie to play, there was a light knock on your door. You smiled a bit and went to open the door, expecting to see III or IV, maybe even the both of them together. But as the door opened you were met with the one person you were not expecting.
II stood there with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand and a bag of takeout in the other. There was a slight gleam of plead in his eyes as you took in the sight of him. His eye was now fully bruised and his lip was a bit swollen still. His knuckles were scabbed and bruised from when he’d hit the man several times. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night and had an even harder time getting through the day.
“I um… I wasn’t going to come by so soon but I couldn’t wait any longer to check on you.” His voice wavering with a nervous tone that made you raise a brow. You gave him one last look over and then stepped to the side, letting him walk into your apartment. He put the bouquet and bag of food down on the counter in your kitchen, looking around at the decor of the place.
You stood back and watched him as he fidgeted with his hands. “Vessel said these flowers were some of your favorites.” You curiously looked at the bouquet and a small feeling of gratitude flowed through you as you stared at the colorful arrangement. “I also remembered that you really like Thai food so I got you some.” You couldn’t resist the smile that made its way to your face as the delicious smells wafted to you.
“Thank you.” It was genuine. He nodded a response and looked around again. “I’m sorry about your eye and lip.”
His brows raised. “Sorry? Why?”
“You got into a fight because I was being st-”
“Don’t you dare think about finishing that sentence, Y/N.” His voice was stern. “I would get into a fight with that guy over and over again if it meant that he wouldn’t lay a finger on you like he was, and planned on doing.” He stepped a little closer to you but still kept a good distance between you. “I keep thinking about what could’ve happened if I wasn’t standing out there. It’d kill me if I knew that I could’ve helped and gotten you away before anything bad happened.”
“And you did, you were there and made sure I didn’t get hurt.” Your heart pounded at the thought that raced through your mind. You didn’t even think about how lucky you were to have this guy drag you from the pub the same time II was outside for a smoke. “I didn’t say thank you last night and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did say.”
“What? That you think I hate you?” He questioned, that same look of pain gleamed in his eyes but this time it wasn’t just a small flash of it, he didn’t even try to hide it.
“You think I don’t? After all these years of knowing each other you’ve constantly made it seem like you do. You’ve always avoided me, always made it seem like I was the worst person in the goddamn room. I haven’t done anything to you II. And with the shit that went down these last two days it’s pissing me off even more.”
“Why?” The tone in his voice was so soft, different from what you were used to that it almost knocked you off kilter.
“You showed me that you're capable of caring for me but I don’t think I can accept it. Not after all these years of conflict between the two of us.” There. Saying that took a huge weight off your shoulders and let you breathe normally for the first time in two days.
You stood in silence as you observed each other. He shifted his weight a few times and ran a hand through his hair as he sighed deeply. Something was on his mind, you could tell by the look on his face.
“Say what you want to say or leave, II. I cannot keep going on about this… not now at least.” You sighed and leaned against the counter, waiting for him to say something. Time passed by and you grew impatient with him. “Get out II.”
“Y/N-”
“If you can’t fucking figure out what to say to me then stop trying and leave.” You felt the tightness in your throat as tears burned your eyes. What exactly was it that you wanted him to say? Did you want him to confirm that he hates you? No, it was just the truth that you were waiting for.
He sighed and made his way to the door, with sad eyes he said, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way for so long.” With that, he left and the door shutting behind him might have been the loudest thing you’ve heard in a long time.
You stood and stared at the door as tears silently fell down your face. What was it about you that made it so difficult for him to speak his mind? You could tell he wanted to and wanted to badly, but something held him back. And you weren’t sure what it was.
Your eyes moved to the bouquet that rested on the countertop and caught a glimpse of a small card tucked within the stems of the flowers. You leaned over and picked it up, noting your name written on the front and flipping it over to read what was written:
I deeply apologize for all I’ve done these last few years which lead you to believe that I hated you. I don’t hate you Y/N, I never have. I was scared of everything you made me feel and hid those emotions underneath a mask of ignorance.
There was more on the card but you stopped there and ran to the door. You fumbled with the locks and swung it open so fast you didn’t notice II still standing at the door until you almost ran into him.
His eyes were wide with shock as he glanced at the card in your hand and back at you. “You read-” You crashed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. He met your lust and immediately placed his hands behind your thighs and lifted you up against him, waiting for you to wrap your legs around his waist before walking back into your apartment and slamming the door behind you.
You felt the coolness of the countertop against the bare skin of your thighs as he sat you down on it. He nipped at your bottom lip and when you gasped, he slipped his tongue in. It was soft and tasted like heaven in your mouth, all you wanted was him in every way you could have him right now. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as you kissed, this was the answer you were searching for this entire time.
The feeling of his arousement brushed against your thigh and you didn’t know whether you should be shocked or impressed by the size pressing against his jeans.
He pulled away for a moment, catching a breath as he stared down at you with a feral look in his eyes. “Are you sure you want this?” You pressed the palm of your hand against his flushed cheek, pushing it forward until your fingers laced around his hair and you closed the space between you once more.
“More than anything in the fucking world.” This time the kiss was more passionate and filled you with the warmth you’ve subconsciously been needing from him. His hands trailed under your shirt and his fingertips were warm as he squeezed your breast, a small moan rumbled from your lips. His hand brushed the peaked bud and the cold metal that was pierced through it.
“I’ve always found these so hot.” He whispered in your ear as his fingers toyed with the balls on the piercing. Your back arched at the touch and you whimpered for more. “Are you going to be a good girl and tell me what you want, Y/N?”
You nodded. “II please, I need you to touch me.” It was a desperate whine that came out of you instead of what you strived to sound like.
He chuckled at your response and began to remove your shirt. “Anything for you, love.” His eyes gleamed at the sight of your breasts, taking in the silver bars through both your nipples.
You reached to grab the edge of his shirt and he swatted you away. “It’s unfair if I can’t stare at you shirtless too.”
“I don’t care if it’s not fair.” He hooked his fingers under the waistband of the boxer shorts you wore. “You’re not touching me until you’ve orgasmed.” A red hot blushed creeped across your skin as he slowly pulled the boxers off, revealing your body fully to him. “Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.”
He leaned down and connected your lips again, then moved down and placed kisses along your jawline. You felt the light touch of his hand as it traced the skin of your inner thigh, the sensation adding to the ache already building between your legs.
You whined his name after he brushed a finger against your clit. “Fuck love, all this for me?” He motioned downwards and you caught a glimpse of how wet he had made you.
“I blame the fact that I haven’t had sex in a while.”
He chuckled. “Right, that’s what it is.” He stepped back from where he’d been standing and took a long look at your body as if he were mapping it in his mind. “Spread your legs more my love.” You obliged, his hands wrapped under your thighs again but this time he pulled you right to the edge of the countertop. “I don't want you to try and contain any noise you’re about to make. I want to hear you screaming my name.” You nodded and held your breath before the wave of pleasure hit you as he ran his tongue through your arousal.
You searched frantically for something to hold onto as II went down on you. He sucked on your clit as he slipped a finger into you, curling it while he sucked harder. Your hand flew to his hair and you gripped hard, pulling each time he curled his finger in you. Despite his rule about not touching him, it seems you’ve discovered a loophole; II likes his hair pulled.
He added a second finger which made your back arch off the counter as your orgasm drew near. You were moaning louder than you ever had and his name slipping off your tongue sounded filthy. Your moans only got louder as the tightness in your stomach became more intense. The pace he was fingering you picked up as he flicked your clit with his tongue as fast as he could manage.
Stars exploded in your eyes as the wave of pleasure that hit you was unimaginable. II held you down with his free hand as he kept the stimulation on your clit going, sending you into what felt like a free fall through heaven.
You breathed heavily as II stepped away from you, a sheen from your arousal covered the lower half of his face. He let you compose yourself a bit and slowly pulled his shirt off, teasing you with the sight of his beautiful torso. His hair was ragged from how hard you had been pulling but it made him look incredibly sexy, especially now as he unbuckled his belt and walked back over to you, motioning for you to give him your hands. You once again listened to him and watched with curiosity as he wrapped the belt around your wrists and tightened it.
“Not too tight is it?” He asked. You shook your head as you stared at your bound hands. “Good.”
“Thought you said I could touch you after I orgasmed.” You said and motioned to your hands.
A smirk was plastered on his face as he stripped his jeans off. “I changed my mind.” Your attention turned to his cock that was straining against the fabric of his briefs. “Now, you get the choice.” He teased the edge of his briefs, getting you to keep your eyes fixated there. “Either I fuck you here on this counter, or I take you into your bedroom. What do you want me to do, love?”
You thought for a moment. Of course you’ve been fucked in both places a few times and though the countertop was a fun spot… it hurt your back after a while. The bed always did its job but you didn’t want to do only that… you wanted to try something new.
“Can the wall be an option?” Excitement flashed in his eyes and he grinned.
“If you want it to be, it can.” You nodded, giving him the permission he needed to fully discard his briefs and letting you see the full size of him. He smirked at the expression on your face and picked you up, letting you wrap your legs around him as he gave you a quick peck on the lips.
Your back hit the wall and his lips were immediately crashing into yours once more, filling your need for his taste again. He placed his hands on your hips, gently so he didn’t leave a mark, and moved the tip of his cock closer to your entrance. You gasped at the feeling of him sliding it through the slickness before he gripped a little tighter and pushed into you. You both gasped at the connection between your bodies, a feeling you’d both desperately seemed to chase but never quite understood what you were after.
“Fuck Y/N.” He groaned as he pulled out a bit before thrusting back in. “If I’d known you’d feel this good I would’ve admitted my feelings sooner.”
“I wish you did.” You whispered. II gently kissed your neck where your pulse was pounding out of it.
“Alright,” he said as he moved one hand to hold your bound hands up and over your head, while his free arm wrapped around your ass. His thrusts were picking up in pace a little bit as he found a way that worked in this position. “Now you’re going to be my good girl and take it, and just so you know, I enjoyed every bit of you screaming my name.” You nodded again as his thrusts picked up in speed and he was slamming into you.
You thought the noises coming from your mouth earlier were filthy, this was ten times worse. Every thrust hit you where it mattered most and from the orgasm earlier, you were quickly coming undone again.
“Kiss me.” You breathed as the knot built and built in your stomach. II obliged and slipped his tongue into your mouth. The feeling of his lips against yours and his tongue dancing in your mouth brought you to the edge, but this time it wasn’t as intense as the first and you were able to keep yourself as composed as possible.
Your arms pushed against II’s hand that kept them pressed against the wall. “Please let me touch you.” It was a pathetic sounding plea as you watched his stunning blue eyes dance with amusement.
“Just this once.” He says, undoing the belt and letting your hands free. They roamed the canvas of his skin, feeling every inch of muscle that he had and left marks with your nails each time he pounded into you.
His thrusts began to get sloppy as he neared his release. You pulled at his hair a little bit and nipped at his earlobes, grinning at the sound of his moans as you kissed around his pulse.
“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He cried out and you felt his release fill you up. His pace slowed down as he came down from his orgasm, his face buried against the crook of your neck as you held onto him. He kept himself inside of you as you held onto each other tightly, as if the second you let go the other may disappear.
After a while he lifted you from his cock and you hissed at the loss of it. He set you down on the floor and held you as you steadied yourself on your feet. You stared at each other for another moment before he spoke.
“I think I should run us a bath, we eat the cold Thai food, and then get some sleep. How does that sound to you?” He asked as he brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
You kissed the tip of his nose. “That sounds absolutely perfect.” And you did just that, minus a few additional things that came from the new addiction you had for one another.
It was a perfect night to cap off two shitty nights, especially now that you were here falling asleep in II’s arms with a smile that could never be wiped off your face.
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Some of my vinyls just came in!! Sadly, neither of the two orders came with confetti. Is anyone else having this happen to them?
@taylornation
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Hello, Anon:
This is your Oldie Chinese Diaspora Anon™ This is the second part to me trying to detail Imómó’s recent troubles. Some of the issues are trivial while others are quite grievous. It’ll be a bit of a jog, but let’s take it together, you and I.
The first stop is another anonymous whistle-blower who came up to accuse Water of something that I have never heard before.
This person claimed to have worked as DZ and DC’s artistic director. He invited Water in as a collaborator before and thought very highly of her skill and her integrity. Unfortunately for him, a victim reached out to him to let him know that they have been sold the design of a body that is over 90% similar to the Mimi Dog design that’s been made and sold by Imómó (this one:
This goes above and beyond recasting and is absolutely _verboten_ since it makes legit buyers of either “sculpt” end up looking like they bought counterfeits and recasts. Ex-director had screenshots he had with the victim. This made him look like he was complicit in the scheme, and he’s really angry. Other buyers have also popped up to comment that Water had claimed that her sculpts were sold off by “Her boss” in the past (about 2-3 years before this incident) but now it looks like she simply sold the same sculpt to two different companies and tried to play the victim. She was the sole proprietor at the time (which was traced by whistle-blower #2) and there was no “boss”. This is also mentioned in the next XHS link below, too.
The second stop along the way is the quality control for Imómó. Over the last year or so, people have mentioned that the headbacks were of a different colour with a bad fit that was obviously wrong for the face sculpt. (This was mentioned in an earlier XHS post:
As Ex and the two whistle-blowers revealed, the reason why the headbacks do not fit was because they were never meant for the rest of the head sculpt. The headbacks were left overs from previous shipments and the factories were trying to use them up since they weren’t getting paid, so they did not want to make more doll parts for free. This eventually led to more shoddy workmanship because the factories were working for free.
Due to this incident, a lot of the older unboxing and reviews started to float up to the surface as well. People are trying to find out just when did this embezzlement issue really start. For example, this buyer showed off her doll’s shoddy quality back in 2023:
(video attached)
This one with the really thin vinyl happened in August of this year (but the sculpt was probably developed and made much earlier:
She also mentioned that she bought this head from SWDolls and wants people to avoid both of them. Perhaps it’s just me, but it does seem that these two entities are entangled with each other in some ways. SWDolls is an agent for many, if not all of the Chinese brands, but their names are not attached to anyone in specific like this one is.
And finally, if you have been here for a while, you may have remembered me talking about the problems with PVC as a doll material as well as some issues found on an unboxing of a larger PVC doll (found here:
This is from a different company, of course, but the same issue had been raised with Imómó’s larger vinyl dolls as well. Unfortunately, the results can be hilariously sad:
(The neck and shoulder area had sunken into the torso. This is usually due to the vinyl being too thin and cannot fully counteract the stress from the strings. I am not sure why there are marks on the skin in the neck and the abdomen area, but I think we can agree the workmanship is quite bad. Maybe this is the “revenge of the poor factories”, but either way, it’s a bad look.
Step 3 has something to do with the relatively anonymous world of the Internet. This XHS user called out a new company called “Niji Doll” for the extremely high similarities between their doll heads and the Imómó head:
Niji Doll is another “Three-nothings” stores with a lot of secrecy behind it. There are now people who think that Water is actually selling her doll designs to other brands as an exit strategy. This one is left last because there are way too many speculations involved. But I think it’s a good idea to include this for completion’s sake.
That seems to be where the story ends, for the moment anyhow. I will keep an eye out for more exposé should any arise. It’s not exactly up to me to say if I believe the official Imómó channels or a nameless, faceless (and obviously disgruntled) person like Ex here, but I do have my suspicions. Like I said at the beginning, this is a case of a “Bad business with a good product”. Should the owner stick to decent, good business practices, there is a bright future for vinyl dolls like the one he sells. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, it’s hardworking factories and their employees as well as the guileless buyers who ended up being the final victims. And this is just sad all around.
~Anonymous
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Happy Super Tutu Day, everyone! 🤍
To celebrate Tuesday, the 22nd, I’m giving away free fanmade merch, including jacket grades of my own fantasy enamel pins (both variants!) and a jumbo vinyl sticker ~
Please see below Read More line for rules and details on how to enter.
🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢
Rules for Entry:
Must be 18 years or older
Must provide a valid US address for free prize shipment
Must be following this blog
Must have DMs open by end of give away to receive prize and provide a valid US address
You’re welcome to enter on behalf of anyone who doesn’t meet these requirements.
How to Enter:
Reblog this post!
One entry per person, no extra entry methods available.
Giveaway ends on August 29th at midnight EST.
I’ll be using a name picking application to randomly determine a winner. They will be contacted privately to accept their prize and asked to provide a valid US address within 24 hours. If they successfully accept their prize, they will be announced as the winner and the giveaway will end.
Otherwise, a new winner will be randomly chosen and the same procedure will apply.
I expect our roster to stay rather small, so your chances of winning should be pretty good! Best of luck, and I’m so excited to send these prizes to a fellow Princess Tutu fan! 🤍
🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢🩰🦢
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anyway eddie 100% drags steve into the music store across from family video while he picks up new tapes
and steve is soooo reluctant at first until he develops a huge crush on the girl who works there who clowns on eddie’s music taste and flips eddie off. but she still laughs at all his stupid jokes and allows him into the store despite eddie’s polaroid, with him grinning from ear to ear, being on the “banned for life” cork board behind the counter because her boss caught him indulging in the five finger discount one too many times
so steve now spends his shifts at family video staring out the window to try and get a glimpse of her and ducking behind the counter whenever she glances back his way
and when eddie catches on… he makes steve’s life hell 😭 he chases him around family video singing “steve has a crushhhh!!!” and drags him to the music store even more just to embarrass steve and make him blush in front of her
but steve is brave. steve has got guts. so he musters up all his charm and goes to the music store with all intention of asking her out and then immediately loses his nerve once she asks if he needs any help :,)
he grabs literally the first tape from the first section and is like “um yes can i check you out- i mean can you check me out- i mean can you help check this out for me. thanks.” cue internal screaming.
and as she’s ringing him up she’s like “oh you like abba?” and he’s just like “doesn’t everyone?” when he knows he just grabbed the first thing from the “a” section and he knows nothing about abba
the next day he sees her having to lug two big shipments of vinyl and tapes into the store and he immediately runs out to help her because if steve is anything, he’s a gentleman
and before he leaves she calls out to him and pulls an abba tape out of her pocket and goes “you like abba right? i saved this for you, just don’t tell my boss okay?”
and steve has two realisations
1) he definitely has to listen to abba now
2) he’s completely, totally in love
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington headcanons#steve harrington imagines#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson headcanons#stranger things#st4#joe keery#joseph quinn
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So Panem is set in the future, right? Meaning our current American society is the history behind Panem.
So, hypothetically, not that I've been thinking about this, it would theoretically be possible that there are certain things in our society that would be persevered, and therefore consumable for the people of Panem.
And if a certain Peeta Mellark was married to a certain Katniss Everdeen, who both seem to have a love/appreciation for music, were to be discussing interesting things they read about the previous country's pop culture to a certain Effie Trinket, it would not at all be impossible that they could get on the subject of old, classic musicians that were incredibly popular in their time, and thus were historically preserved for future enjoyment and such.
Now, I'd imagine things such as devices for music would only be available to the Capitol after The Dark Days until after Mockingjay, when the country is once again united and it's now easy to get whatever wherever so long as you put down an order to come on the next shipment to your District.
So overall... hypothetically... it could be possible for Katniss and Peeta to slowly develop into vinyl collectors post-canon. With probably way too big of a collection because hey, they have the room, and there's so much available to order in the catalogs Effie keeps subscribing them to, and there's just something nice about the things. What, with the maintenance, the calming sound of an old vinyl with pops and snaps or the sharp clarity of a new, clean press.
Or, OR, not that I've thought about this either. Would it be possible that when Peeta disappears into his room on the train back to 12 after the first Hunger Games, at some point Effie realizes he's isolating and goes to check on him. Partially as her job, partially because Effie genuinely cares about why he's upset. And Peeta being a freshly traumatized 16 year old kid who just lost his leg and is now experiencing his first relationship + hearbreak all at once let's Effie in because he wants some sort of motherly figure right now, and since Haymitch knew about the fake relationship, Effie is probably gonna find out soon enough if she doesn't know already. So he's just sobbing on the bed, pouring out his whole lovesick and raw heart to Effie while she just strokes his back and tries to calm him. And knowing Effie, she's slowly reaching over to a remote to program some radio in the room to some fitting music, promising it'll all be alright, and you know, there's some very beautiful, retro music that is very fitting for times like this. Would you like to hear some? Let's just try it, just for fun, hmm?
Long story short, Peeta already has a head start on his and Katniss's combined vinyl collection from when Effie was his dealer for Taylor Swift music before the war.
(Post canon his favorite song is 'State of Grace' Acoustic Version, but during Catching Fire?? That boy was BLARING 'illicit affairs' so much Haymitch gets 'nam flashbacks when Peeta lets it play one day while he cleans with the window open, making Haymitch storm out of his house, screaming at him to "shut that shit off!" And confusing the entire District as he begs Peeta to "not make me live through this again," and "whatever she did it wasn't worth this." Peeta has no fucking clue what he's talking about since a lot of memories were lost or muddled due to the hijacking until Effie gently reminds him. After that, there's a in no way shape or form small list of songs that Peeta is banned from playing within earshot of a even semi-conscious Haymitch. All is well again until Katniss discovers Hoizer.)
#mentally ill over the hunger games#no but i cant listen to 'state of grace' without thinking about them#it just awakens something deep within me#and by deep i mean incredibly shallow#peeta x katniss#peeta and katniss#the hunger games peeta#katniss x peeta#katniss and peeta#peeta mellark#thg peeta#peeta x reader#peeta#katniss everdeen#thg katniss#the hunger games katniss#katniss#effie trinket#thg effie#effie#thg haymitch#haymitch abernathy#haymitch#the hunger games#the hunger games trilogy#thg#thg headcanons#thg series#cf#catching fire
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Belphegor Headcanons!
He had a My Chemical Romance phase when locked in the attic, he still keeps a vinyl copy of Helena.
Because of his hatred of the exchange program, he got really into screamo to listen his rage out. Deafheaven and Hawthorne Heights comforted him in a time of darkness.
Sushi and white chocolate are his comfort foods, I like to think that the MC sent some to the attic every once in a while, eventually progressing to shipments to the twin's room.
Belphegor often sleeps throughout class, miraculously he still gets assignments done, maybe knowledge appears in his dreams?
#obey me belphegor#obey me fandom#obey me!#obey me#obey me belphie#obey me headcanons#obey me belphegor headcanons
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