#AND the bathroom set up is FUCKED for my bathroom anxiety which is great

[garlique]

my tummy hurts so bad i hate traveling

#of course ive decided to figure my shit out in 2024 so of course i decided im no longer dependent on weed #so of course on my 6 day trip i brought NOTHING #eating has been fine back to being ravenous within two days #Sleeping However #(for those of yall in diff time zones its 1 am. i excused myself to bed at 10 pm.) #does not help that the airbnb my dad booked has the worlds Firmest Memory Foam Mattresses And Pillows #AND the bathroom set up is FUCKED for my bathroom anxiety which is great #tiny thin door goes directly from the bathroom to where my dad is sleeping and so of course #im incredibly anxious about having to pee in the night and waking him up #and when i get anxious i have to pee!!! perfect!!! #plus no sweet baby boy ethan here just my liberal centrist father and grandmother (thats generous) #and now my Fucking Tummy Hurts!!! #OH AND IVE HAD MY PERIOD THIS WHOLE TIME!!!! HELLO!!!!! #its okay tomorrow we go to natural history museum. i love natural history museum #and besides im so brave. im basically sugaring without the sugar because pretending to #care about my family is how i get my parents to send me exorbitant amounts of money #its reparations for all the trauma dw #speaking of the trauma my god the amount of repressing i havr to do here !!! we have to do !!! insane !!! #on the plane ride down here i imagined telling my father abt all the neglect #and today i verbatim said 'ya he was a rly good dad i was lucky to have him as a father' #see even now here im like TO BE FAIR like no girl. come on. bffr #anyway 3 days 5 hours til i leave 3 days 9 hours til im home #i can do anything for three days and we have fun plans i just am so fucking tired #i havent gotten more than 6 hours of sleep since i got here kmw #ok. time to go try to pee and then sleep and pray my tummy stops hurting pls

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,882

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls

A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five

Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client! 

“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.”  Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

“Thank fuck.” 

“It was just weird.” 

“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?” 

Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”

“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.

What the fuck was this life?

Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door. 

You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.

It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly. 

The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.

By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.

“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”

”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”

“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”

God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.

His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence. 

The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.

”Of course.” 

“Why did you become an escort?”

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.

”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.” 

“For sex?!” 

“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?” 

You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?” 

“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”

“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”

Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.

“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow

“Y/N, could I ask you something?” 

“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat. 

“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”

Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.

“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.” 

Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest. 

“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.” 

“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach. 

“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.” 

Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.

“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”

“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”

“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.” 

Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.” 

“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.” 

The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.

The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.

But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him. 

“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”

“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”

“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.” 

His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend! 

It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” 

“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”

The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you. 

“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm. 

“Right! Right, sorry!”

You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”

“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?” 

“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.” 

“Then kiss her like you mean it!!” 

You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.

“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!” 

“Mina!” 

“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!” 

Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you.  He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.

While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile. 

“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.” 

“You don't have to tell me twice.” 

Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him. 

While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.

“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.

When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.

He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.

”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.

”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”

”Okay.”

His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.

His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns. 

Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.

Holy shit, what was wrong with you!? 

Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.

You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?

Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half. 

“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.

”I’m in your head?”

Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.

”Toji—!”

“Shut up, we need to talk.”

(TBC)

Taglist:

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira

#escort!gojo #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk reader smut #jjk y/n #jjk #jjk gojo smut #jjk reader insert #reader x gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jujutsu satoru #reader x satoru #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #jjk satoru #satoru smut #satorugojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojou satoru x you

[roseluxxx]

Domestic Bliss

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Warnings: early smut, penetration, a loving husband, throwing up (later on and not in great detail), pregnancy scare, non use of “protection”

word count: 1.1k

Before Reading: established relationship, married couple who lives together, he’s showing his love language of service and is so sweet, there is a pregnancy mention at the very end and i plan on a part 2, if you don’t like that pls don’t read <3

____________________________________________

"Mige, please,"

you grabbed onto the bed sheet next to you, gripping the soft surface tightly as you knew you were slowly becoming cock drunk on Miguel’s relentless pace inside you.

Another orgasm was building its way up, your abused clit being overstimulated for what seemed like the hundredth time.

It's the sixth round tonight and you could feel the slow dragging tiredness creep into your consciousness. You loved it, every round and ounce of attention you received from the man who towered you made your heart skip a thousand beats, but when it was this late? You needed a break.

You grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling just harder than normal as the stream of Spanish mumbling of: "tu eres mio, tu eres solo mio, te amo, te amo mucho, " finally came to a halt.

He looked up, suddenly aware of your overstimulation. He pulled out in an instant, pushing your hair out of your face, feeling your temperature and giving you a kiss on your forehead.

"Fuck, mi amor, i'm sorry. Lemme go grab you some water and let's get you cleaned up ok?”

You reached up and grabbed his hand, a lazy smile drawn on your face.

"Baby just stay, please. Just for a little, okay?" He nodded and leaned back down to kiss you temple before promising he'd grab a towel and come right back.

Miguel ran from the kitchen to the bathroom, multitasking as he filled a cup with ice cold water and wet a towel while bringing another one to dry you.

He returned, somehow having pre-cut fruit in a bowl too.

You laughed to yourself; he had definitely planned this out and had that prepared earlier today.

The wet towel was dabbled along your forehead and behind your neck, he cleaned your thighs and gently allowed the cloth to freshen your intimate area as well, a loving expression never once leaving his face.

You sat up, insisting you could put your own hair up as he handed you the fruit and placed the water on the nightstand.

"Here, mami,” his shirts were always big on you, a man with the shoulders the size of a whole kid was bound to wear a few sizes up.

Setting the fruit aside you pulled him into the bed next to you, taking the water and placing it to his lips.

"Drink, baby. You always do this like you don't need to be taken care of, too." He smiled, taking a few gulps of the liquid before turning it to you to do the same.

He looked over you, admiring his plentiful red and purple love bites scattering your skin. He could never stop looking. It quite honestly might be his favorite sight in the world.

You put the glass down, watching him pull on some boxers before cuddling up to you.

"What, I don't get underwear but you do?"

He nodded, pulling your head to his chest gently as he felt sleep slowly come to claim his time.

“Mhm, baby you don't need those," a peck on your hair, “m’ can grab some of my boxers if you want. I know you like them.”

___________

Squinting as you felt the suns’ light practically harassing your eye awake, you immediately grasped the area next to you as you realized Miguel was gone.

You sat up, alarms going off in your head as you made a mental recheck of everything he had told you he was doing today; which was nothing.

Where was- the smell of bacon filled your senses as your anxiety washed away.

You flipped the covers and reluctantly climbed out of the warm cocoon that was your bed, turning to gather the dishes from the night before and finding them gone.

“Swear to the fucking spider gods this man is always two steps ahead,” you rubbed your eyes, stepping into your fluffy matching slippers and trudging to the kitchen.

You were met with a sight hand crafted by the gods.

The sizzling sound of bacon and the rejuvenating smell of freshly squeezed orange juice filled your senses. The one responsible, a complete marble sculpture of a man, stood with him back turned to you and soaking in the morning sunlight.

This is it. This is peak. If anything ever happened that changed this reality you might just have to end it all.

Miguel noticed your presence, smiling instantly and nodding towards the food cooking.

“Mi sol, ven aquí. I didn’t even notice you.”

You nodded lazily, coming behind him and resting your arms around his waist. Planting a kiss on his back before resting your head against it.

“Baby, why’re you up so early?”

He rubbed circles against the back of your hand, covering yours with his, “When the sun's up I'm up, you know?”

He turned around in your embrace, putting his arms around you as he took a second to maintain eye contact, “Did you enjoy last night?”

You hummed in agreement and he gave you a slow, deep kiss, smacking your ass before sending you to the kitchen island, promising breakfast will be done soon.

Not even having the opportunity to sit for a few minutes, a wave of nausea hit you like a truck. You held your stomach and rushed to a bathroom , barely having time to lift the lid before the little contents of what was left of last nights’ dinner were flushed down the toilet.

Miguel turned off the stove and rushed by your side, his hands holding your hair up.

“Baby? Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He fanned the back of your neck as you regained composure, somehow feeling instantly better now that your body did what it needed to.

You nodded, leaning on Miguel as you got up to go brush your teeth.

He pulled your arm, checking over you like a frantic parent as you dismissed his worries, assuring him you feel fine now and thanking him for coming to check.

“You’re not-“

“No. Mige’. We used protection and I'm on the pill.”

He leaned against the doorway, giving you space, “I mean.. we did take it off for the last few rounds.”

You gave him a burning glare, grabbing your toothbrush and applying the Spider Man themed toothpaste you both thought was hilarious when you found it in the aisle.

“Baby it doesn’t catch overnight like that,” you have him a kiss on the cheek, “ I’m sure it’s just my body having a reaction to how unusually rough we were last night.”

He hummed in agreement, giving you a quick kiss on the head and checking on the food. That explanation seemed good enough for him but truthfully you were worried.

It doesn’t take overnight. That’s the stuff of movies. Even if it, did you wouldn’t be feeling these results so soon. Your body was just in shock because of his roughing you last night.

Right?

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment or see my other Spider Verse fics here!

A/N: Ugh i caved and made a fic for him sue me

😭 Also if you wanna make a request i finally finished the ones i was working on so go ahead and give me some new ideas🤞

#miguel o'hara #spider man #across the spiderverse smut #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fluff #spider man 2099 #spider man 2099 x you #spider man smut #spider verse #spider man 2099 smut #smut #fluff #roselux spider verse #roseluxworks #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara atsv #atsv fic #atsv #atsv x you #atsv x reader

[jakeyt]

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 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 :) &lt;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

[yeaimsafiya]

CHAPTER ONE back from rehab

SYNOPSIS the beginning of a teenage girl named y/n who is fresh out of rehab but doesn't intend to stay clean.

FROM THE WRITER AHH IM SORRY IM LATE GUYS!! This is the first chapter I'm ever writing, I took some inspo from episode 1 but I'm going to have to cut each episode into fourths because I really don't want to spend a whole week trying to finish a whole episode and school work. But I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter as much as I did - Love you guys, Sapiyah <3

WARNINGS Lots of unnecessary writing, female! reader, mentions of drugs and drinking, strong sexual content, nudity, violence, adult content, adult language, scenes might be uncomfortable for some, some scenes might include mentions of mental illness'

SERIES EUPHORIA

CHARACTERS INCLUDED members of the bakusquad & dekusquad, big three(?), some characters of class 1A

NOTES MDNI! Ageless blogs will be blocked or removed.

Readers discretion is advised

Suddenly, the whole world goes dark and nothing else matters except the person standing in front of you.

You were once happy. Content.

Sloshing and swimming around your own private, primordial pool; Then one day, for reasons beyond your control, you were continuously and repeatedly crushed...

Over..and over.. again by the cervix of your mother, M/n.

You put up a good fight, but eventually lost, for the first time, but not the last.

You were born 3 days after 9/11, your mother and father spent two days in the hospital, holding you under the soft glow of the television, watching those towers fall over and over again, until the feeling of grief gave away to numbness.

And then, without warning, a middle-class childhood in the American suburbs.

|

You were sitting at the dinner table with your mother, M/n, and Father, F/n. But it appeared something else had gotten your attention, a set of numerous lights above the dinner table, in which you wanted to count.

"Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.."

" What are you looking at y/n?"

"..."

"What are you doing? ..Y-y/n look at me."

"One, two, three, .."

"What are you doing Y/n?"

*cries*

|

"Id say she's suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder..."

Its not like you were physically abused..

"...attention deficit disorder..."

..Or had some type of clean water storage..

"..general anxiety disorder.."

..Or was molested by a family member.

"..and possibly bipolar disorder. But she's a little bit too young to tell."

So, explain this shit to me.

|

"Honey, it's just the way your brain was hardwired; Plenty of great, intelligent, funny, interesting and creative people have struggled with the same things you struggle with."

"Like who?"

"Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and even Brittney Spears, your favorite!"

You haven't remembered much from the ages of eight to twelve. Just that the world moved fast, and your mind moved slow.

"Does anyone have an idea of what a perception might be?"

And every now and then, if you focused on the way you breathed...

You'd die.

"Slow down, just breathe"

Until every second of the day, you'd find yourself trying to outrun your anxiety.

"What's wrong Y/n?"

..And quite frankly..

"I'm just fucking exhausted"

|

Coming down to the kitchen, you could hear the small talk between your mother and younger sister, S/N.

"You said the doctor was in our network. How can he suddenly be out of network?"

"I can't afford it."

"Did you see that video of the girl who got acid thrown at her face?"

"What? No.."

"It's pretty fucked up.."

"Mom do you know where the tampons are?"

"In my bathroom, right under the sink."

And at one point, you'd make a choice of who you are and what you want.

"Alright Gia, let's go"

"Why do the co-payments cost $300?"

"Y/n did you eat breakfast?"

".."

"What's with the glasses?"

"What glasses?"

You just happened to show up one day, without a map or a compass..

"Attention students, we need to lockdown."

..Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice.

And I know it all seems sad but guess what? You did not build this system up, nor fuck it up yourself.

But then it happens. That moment where your breath starts to slow. And every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have.

Then everything stops: Your heart, your lungs, then finally, your brain. And everything you feel, you wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks.

And then suddenly... you give it air again, give it life again.

You remember the first time it happened, where you were so scared you wanted to call 911. Go to the hospital and be kept alive by machines and apple juice. But you didn't want to look like an idiot, and you didn't want to fuck up everyone else's night.

And now overtime, that's all you've wanted.. those two seconds of nothingness.

You spent a good portion of summer before junior year in rehab. God granted you the serenity to accept things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

"Y/N," your sister yelled from afar, greeting you after your long leave. You smiled, and whilst running up to her, tried to continue the conversation with your younger sibling.

"Hey, Come here!"

"How are you?"

"Good, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Look at you, are you growing?"

"No."

Looking over, you see your mother standing by your family car.

"Hey," you yelled out to her, only to receive a small smile from her.

And with that. you knew it was your time to go.

|

"I'm very happy for you Y/n. You're about to start a brand-new chapter," Your mother says while driving you and your sister to school. You looked at her with a smile, then turned your attention back to the car window.

You had no intentions of staying clean. And yet, Jirou just moved into town.

"There's some new girl in town that I think you'll be friends with," Shoto said, with you standing beside him in his store.

"Who?"

"Shit, I don't know. She came in looking all punk rock and shit; So I'm thinking to myself, like, 'look like somebody Y/n would be friends with'."

Which was sort of a dead-on observation for Shoto, who's not normally revolving in the same direction as planet earth.

"So how long have you been back?" He asked.

"About five days."

"And how are you feeling?"

"I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good."

"Word? That's what's up," You chuckled at his snarky remark, giving him a small smile.

"I'm fucking with you," you said whilst laughing, "It was a joke."

"Shit, hey, I don't judge," he defended, hands raising to just above his chest.

"But for real, is Deku in the back?"

"Are you serious?" Shoto questioned, seeming very disappointed in you.

"What, you think cause' I went to rehab I stayed clean?"

"I mean, ain't that the point?" he asks.

"Yeah, well, the world is coming to an end, and I haven't even graduated high school yet."

You gave Shoto one more smile before going to Deku, whilst Shoto stared at you the entire way there; There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but since you were too busy looking for Deku, you didn't see.

You opened one of the doors of the refrigerators, leading you right to him with a bowl of fruit loops,"I thought your ass was dead," he said one he saw your appearance.

"And I thought you had Asperger's till I realized your just a prick," you barked back.

"This a fickle industry, y'all come and go. I'm just trying to stack my cash, pay off our mortgage," he said while pulling out a bunch of plastic bags out of a microwave.

"So what the fuck do you want?" You gave him a knowing look before he handed you needed.

"You sure you don't want to try something new?" He asks you.

"Like what?"

"2C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT."

"I'm sorry I have no fucking idea of what you just said."

"It doesn't matter," he stated, "but this shit, is fucking lit."

"What is it?"

"N-diisopropyl-5-methoxytryptamine. It's a fast-acting psychedelic."

Got some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual as shit, but definitely a sense distorter.

"What's wrong?" That same dark purple hair girl questioned.

"I'm just so happy," you responded back.

"I don't know, this shits been going off in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck with this," Deku continued on with his descriptions with the drug.

"Okay. Yeah, why not."

"That'll be 120."

"Oh uh, Shoto said he'd spot me."

"Shoto doesn't spot nobody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him."

"I will go ask him, cause' I know your full of shit."

Those were the last words he said before you walked out. Those were the last words you heard before you saw the same two boys in freshman year.

Bakugo and Kirishima.

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Do not steal, use or reupload my work without given permission or my consent. If so, you will either be blocked, removed, or reported.

#bakusqaud #drama series #mha x reader #my hero acedamia #mha smut #mha class 1a #dekusquad #character x you #character x character #lgbtqiia+ #smut #my hero academia #euphoria #sero hanta #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #mina ashido #jirou kyouka #denki kaminari #deku #tenya iida #shoto todoroki #ochako uraraka #tsuyu asui

[bookish-whore]

Exile Pt.II

Azriel x Reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: in a shocking surprise to everyone I have more angst

A/N: SURPRISE!! I never actually revealed the poll results (oops my bad) but this was the winner! I know this chapter is kind of short but it sets up where our characters are mentally/emotionally plus has some interesting details for the future. Enjoy lovelies (and the next part is in progress don't even worry) ❤️

Part One -> Here

My Masterlist -> Here

Join my Taglist -> Here

--------------------------------------------------

Gods it’s still dark outside I thought as I ran to the bathroom.

I hadn’t been sleeping that great since my departure from Velaris, and while I told myself it was a symptom of this pregnancy, I couldn’t help but feel it was a culmination of guilt, anxiety, and sadness. I pulled my hair back as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. This had been happening every day at least once and I was dreading the next nine months if this is what I would be looking forward to.

Once I was finished, I brushed my teeth, rinsing out my mouth thoroughly before making my way downstairs for a snack.

The cottage was cozy and intimate and completely not what I had pictured when Feyre said she had just the place in mind for me to escape to. It was located on the outskirts of the palace grounds of the day court, but the cottage itself was warded against all prying eyes. The wards had been put in place by Helion so none but his closest confidants had access to the home. I felt safe but mostly I felt alone.

Well mostly alone.

Lucien had been staying in the day court, learning the responsibilities required of a high lord, learning spells and wards and how to break them from Helion and he had been frequenting the cottage delivering food, supplies, books, and his company.

Helion had also been helpful, he had made sure the wards were strong enough to hide me from Azriel and he had provided me everything I needed to be comfortable here. He had even secured me a healer, he said it would be good to have someone I trusted, especially this early on to answer my questions and make sure I was prepared for this.

I couldn’t deny that I was terrified of being pregnant. Helion had an extensive library and in my free time I found myself wandering through the tomes looking for information on half Illyrian children, on the difficulty of pregnancy for fae women who mated with Illyrians. I also communicated a lot with Feyre about it. Considering that she knew the dangers firsthand of what having an Illyrian child could do to one’s body. She wrote me letters practically every day soothing my nerves with comforting words of encouragement and although my heart was aching for updates on Azriel, I never once asked. Mostly because I couldn’t bear to hear the answer.

Knowing that sleep was useless at this point I made my way to the main room which contained the kitchen, living, and dining area. I put some water on to make some tea and sat on the couch opening the book I had discarded last night.

I had only managed a few pages before the kettle began whistling. I bookmarked my page and stood, grabbing a mug from one of the shelves and throwing a tea bag into it, filling it to the brim with the bubbling water. I carefully grabbed the handle setting the mug on the table in front of the couch. I would wait a few minutes for it to cool before attempting to drink and in the meantime, I would continue with some light reading.

As I scanned the page, the words in front of me seemed to blur together as my eyes drifted closed and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

-----

“We have discussed this at length now. I don’t know what you expect from me” Rhysand said, his tone gentle but firm.

“I expect you to support me” Azriel exclaimed “For fuck’s sake we’re brothers”

“You think this isn’t hard for me Az? Having to go to this length because you didn’t stay away from Elain like I fucking told you to?”

“I already told you what happened Rhys” the shadowsinger said, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He had been having the same conversation for the last week trying to get any information out of the high lord and lady about your whereabouts.

“Yeah, I know what you told me, but I also know what y/n heard. I know what she felt and how she processed it, and I promised her I would protect her.” Rhys said “god damnit Az…what the fuck do you expect me to do?”

“Tell me where she is” Azriel begged “that’s all I’ve been asking you for the last week.”

“You know I can’t” The high lord said firmly. “You know I’m doing this for you.”

Azriel paced in front of the fireplace before sitting on one of the chairs of the high lords office, resting his head in his hands. “What if our roles were reversed. W-what if it was Feyre when she was pregnant? You know how long I’ve waited for this Rhys, waited for a family…for a baby” his voice cracked “and now I-I’m missing it”

“I know Az.” He said clasping a hand to Azriel’s shoulder “I fucking know okay, you know how feral I was, h-how protective I was of them both during the beginning. But until I can understand why Elain would lie, why she would manipulate the situation this way it keeps y/n safe. It keeps your child safe. We don’t know why you were targeted and until Elain comes out of it, we only know half of what happened.”

“I know. Just…p-promise me that they are both safe” Azriel said wiping away a tear, because he knew that Rhysand was right, and he wouldn’t dare put you in danger.

The night you fled is fragmented in Azriel’s mind, in fact he can’t even remember most of it. He definitely doesn’t remember a conversation with Elain and the more he thinks about it there are all these gaps in his memory. Nights he can’t recall and whole days where his actions are blurred like he was a completely different person.

He was determined to get to the bottom of this, He and Rhysand were already putting the evidence together figuring out why Azriel would be a target and who would gain from his downfall.

Azriel had made a promise to himself that he would get his family back it was only a matter of time, and he had to hold on to hope that when the time came you would understand, that you would listen to him, and that eventually you would forgive him.

-----

I woke to the smell of food cooking and the familiar aroma of mahogany and crackling embers which told me that I was not alone.

I rubbed my eyes, sitting up and stretching my limbs before padding to the kitchen where Lucien was.

“How are we feeling today mama?” Lucien asked over his shoulder as he his attention was fixed on the stove.

“Nauseous, tired, bloated, over-emotional…just the usual” I said opening the refrigerator for a drink.

“Well, according to my father that is all completely normal at this stage considering what you’re going through” he said with a smirk as he shoveled the contents of the pan onto two plates, placing one of them in front of me.

“What’s on your mind.” He asked “you seem particularly distracted this morning.”

I shook my head, taking a bite of the eggs and toast he had made for me.

“What are you an expert on my body language now?” I snapped “I’ve only been here a week.”

He nodded, drinking his coffee. “Look, I know you’re struggling to deal with all of this” he said softly “and you can’t push me away no matter how much you may want to.”

“I know” I said solemnly “I’m sorry it’s just that I-” I paused, taking a shaky breath. He nodded at me to continue.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this alone” I said, my voice cracking as I struggled to hold back my tears but the words just kept pouring out of my mouth “I thought that we would do this together. Azriel and I and then he- he- cheated on me with her and now I’m here and I’m alone and I-I’m pregnant and I am scared and the one person who I thought I could count on is the person I have to hide from and my life is falling apart and I just- I feel so fucking alone”

“Y/n you are not alone- I am here for you and though you can’t see them your other friends are here for you too” he said pulling me into his broad chest tucking my head under his chin and he simply held me, allowing me to cry.

He held my face in his hands, wiping away my tears “If anyone can understand the heartbreak of the mating bond it’s me- you know the guy who has been rejected countless times by his mate” he finished it with a sweet smile and I couldn’t help but smile back

“Thanks Lucien” I said softly “for being here and checking on me, for everything.”

“Always darling” he said “now finish your breakfast, its important that you are eating well and often.”

“I know, I know” I said taking another bite of my breakfast “are there any letters for me today?” I asked.

He pulled a small bundle out of thin air, one of his many tricks, and handed it to me. There were three envelopes, on top was Feyre’s delicate script, followed by Nesta’s and as I looked at the last one my heart skipped a beat. I recognized his handwriting in an instant. Azriel.

But how did it get here?

“You don’t have to read it if you aren’t ready” Lucien said “Feyre sent it with hers, apparently he begged her to and you know how much of a sap she is sometimes”

I simply looked at it, debating the pros and cons of it. Could I handle his apologies right now? Did I even want to hear them? Did he deserve that? the answer to them all, at least right now was simple.

I handed his letter to Lucien “Hold on to this for me, until I ask for it” I said.

He grabbed it and it vanished into thin air without another word.

“So, what’s on your agenda today” Lucien asked changing the subject

“I wanted to do a little more research in the library, and I think I have an appointment with the healer later. Can you come over for that?” I asked “I don’t know if I can handle it alone.”

“Of course” he said “like I said, you’re not alone in this”

Lucien stood to collect the dishes, cleaning up from breakfast while I read the letters from Feyre and Nesta. There wasn’t much to report but it was nice to stay informed, it was nice that they thought to write even about the mundane happenings back home.

I wrote some replies, telling them I would have more information after the healer tonight and to give everyone my love. Once satisfied I handed them off to Lucien and changed clothes for the day, Lucien helped put on the glamour I was wearing to go out in the court so I could move about without being recognized and we went to the library.

I would never get over the view of the library. It was a towering structure, so many tall spires that were filled with books, all the knowledge of Prythian. The carvings in the stone so intricate and the greenery growing around the building entombing the sides with vines, flowers, and moss. Lucien and I entered immediately going to the medical section to return a scroll I had borrowed yesterday about Illyrian anatomy. I had been keeping questions for the healer about my body and whether the delivery would be safe. I pulled another from the shelf it was on medical breakthroughs of the second age. I also walked around the romance section pulling some leisure reading for later when I undoubtedly couldn’t sleep. Lucien took care of transporting them to the cottage.

Before I knew it the sun was setting, and Lucien winnowed us back to the cottage to meet the healer.

Her name was Mila. She was a woodland nymph who moved to the Day Court to study under Helion. She had spent a time working with Madja in Velaris and with high lord Thesan in the Dawn Court. She was exceptionally gifted and was kind, answering all my questions calmly and encouraging me to keep asking questions through this process.

“So, I know your biggest concern is the birth” Mila said “I have been studying various alternatives to a traditional delivery that we can discuss as the time gets closer so we have a plan in place. I would like to try for a traditional delivery because it is much less stressful on the body but yours and the babes health come first always so we can be flexible”

I nodded my head with her “and everything is okay so far?” I asked

“as far as I can tell” Mila said “babe is strong, they have a strong heartbeat and seem to be growing at a normal rate. I would say you are about 4 months along or around 16 weeks.”

“That fits the timeline” I said with a smile

“Do you want to know the sex?” Mila asked

“You can tell that now?” Lucien said. I had almost forgotten he was here and I was grateful now to have a friend.

“Well, it’s a mixture of magic and a little faith” Mila said

“I don’t know” I said looking to Lucien for support.

“Why don’t you write it down and if she wants to open it she can when she’s ready” Lucien offered

Mila nodded moving over to me and whispering a series of words while holding a pendant above my womb. She smiled and wrote something on a scrap of paper tucking it inside an envelope before handing it to me.

“I’ll be back in two weeks’ time for another checkup” she said before walking out the front door and winnowing away.

I grabbed the envelope tucking it into the book I was reading.

Lucien bid me a goodnight, leaving me with a warm dinner and headed off to the palace.

As I sat on the couch once again alone in the cottage, I felt a faint flutter in my lower stomach, I had read that at this point in the pregnancy you could sometimes feel the baby move.

I took it as a sign.

A sign that I could do this.

--------------------------------------------------

Thanks for Reading ❤️

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Taglist (all fics) ->

@cherryjain17 @we-were-beautiful @moonfawnx @aroseinvelaris @daily-dose-of-sass @marvelouslyem @moonlightazriel @indaybella99 @gray08 @dreamsofivy @gorgeouslysent @viradeity @kennedy-brooke @maddistyles17 @thewarriormoon @pixiestix13 @lucyysthings @a-frog-with-a-laptop @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @purplevitagen @devilsfoodcake22 @lillithathecat @baby-is-crying @nightcourtwritings @lastwandastan @marudersarehot @georgiastars13 @percyjacksonspeen @inpraizeof @piebymesstuff @maviee @theravenphoenix26 @sunnys-interests @ahahah-noo @hiza-46 @humanpersonlasttimeichecked

Taglist (Azriel Only) ->

@ellievickstar @supersoldierswhxre @marina468 @positivewitch @holb32 @meghan52300 @lookingformarissa @wavrica @bigcreatorwombatdreamer

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #lucien vanserra #helion #rhysand x feyre #night court #day court #acotar #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar angst #bookish-whore

[purplecoffee13]

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 3*

Summary: “Y/N finds out the complicated truth about the reason for her role as fake-girlfriend, and gets a bit possessive over Harry.”

Wc: 4.2k

Tropes: semi-enemies-to-lovers (she hates him)

Warnings: possessiveness (mostly from her), oral (m!receiving), cursing, dirty talk, sexual tension THROUGH THE ROOF, angst and insecurities

The next morning, I awake by the sunlight beaming through the window and right onto my face. I open my eyes, my body more relaxed than it has been in weeks, and my lips can't help but form into a lazy smile at thinking of the reason why.

However, the reason why isn't here.

A small frown creases my forehead, especially because I'm not hearing any noise from the bathroom. I lean towards Harry's side of the bed, and spot a note on his nightstand.

'Fulfilling groomsmen duties.

Breakfast is on the dresser.

Catch you later, H.'

Though it was sweet of him to leave a note, and to let me sleep in and leave me breakfast, my heart still churns at the idea that I won't see him until the afternoon. I had hoped we could talk about whatever the fuck happened yesterday, but I guess it will have to wait.

My heart flutters though, as I munch down my breakfast before hopping in the shower. Since I slept in, I have to hurry a little bit if I want to be ready in time.

Luckily I have my hair and make-up done in time, and I manage to strategically shimmy into my dress without ruining any of it. I send a silent prayer as I put on my heels, hoping the blisters will not form until after the ceremony.

After checking the itinerary, I start to make my way to the garden where the ceremony is to be held. Upon exiting our room, I run into a hard body which manages to catch before I fall onto the ground.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Matthew spits out as he helps me balance myself out again. I nod at him, smoothing my dress and taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I should've watched where I was going." I awkwardly smile at him. He waves it off, and extends his arm to me.

"Need an escort to the garden?" He asks with a genuine smile. I hesitate for a moment, but from his body language, I gather that he got Harry's message from yesterday.

"That would be great."

We begin to walk and I immediately spot other people going the same way as us, easing my anxiety about getting there too early.

"Where is Harry?" Matthew brings me back into the moment after momentarily getting caught up in my thoughts.

"Uhm— groomsmen duties, he said." I answer, and Matthew hums. We walk down some stairs that are needed to take in order to reach the garden.

"You're not a groomsman?" Maybe it was a little too intrusive, but it was too late to take it back now. Matthew shook his head.

"Jimmy and Harry were in a football team together since they were little. It's how our Rosa met him. Jimmy and Rosa kind of see Harry as the reason why they got together, so even though they are not as close as they used to be, Jimmy made him a groomsmen." He explains, and I nod my head. That's an interesting part of his family history I did not yet know, and it makes me wonder. Maybe Matthew knows about the girl Harry's family wants to set him up with, the reason I’m here.

"What's with that frown?" Matthew goes to stand in front of me and lowers himself down to my height. I widen my eyes at him and force an exaggerated smile.

"Nothing, nothing..." I chuckle, shaking my head. He raises his eyebrows, not believing me one bit, but laughing along anyway.

"Let's go sit." He says, and leads us to the assigned seats, secretly rearranging them so we can sit next to each other. I laugh at his inability to be subtle, but he manages to pull it off nonetheless. We sit down, and I take in the garden and its beauty. Slowly, I spot the people who are here, and it dawns on me; everyone is very beautiful, especially the girls.

I spot a lengthy blonde in a baby pink dress, chatting with two brunettes whose dresses look like they were picked out from a runway. My brows crease at the sight of everyone's perfect hair, and I find myself smoothing out my own, which seems like a poor excuse for a head of hair now. My heart begins to beat faster and— oh my god I'm going crazy.

"Matthew." I say his name, sounding a bit more urging than I wanted to. His head shoots towards mine.

"Yeah?" He asks softly, a bit of concern evident on his face.

"Uhm… Harry– well, he told me about this girl–"

"Ophelia?"

Ophelia? That's her name?! If that is her actual name then I can't imagine what she looks like. Probably as ethereal as her name.

"I don't know, he never gave a name. But, he said she was going to be here." I tell him, and he hums. I wait to see if he's going to give me any information, but he doesn't say anything. "What– um, what do you know about her?"

My attempt at casualness falters with the stutter of my voice. Matthew lets out a breathy laugh at my nervous question, and is quick to stroke my arm.

"You have nothing to worry about, Y/N." He tries to assure me, and I give him a quick nod.

"I know, I know... I was just wondering, that's all." I turn my body away from Matthew, realizing how pathetic I was beginning to sound.

So what, Harry gave me an amazing orgasm and I think I'm developing a crush on him? I lost my best friend because of him. Well, I guess she was always a bit mean in hindsight, but still. Just because he was nice yesterday, doesn’t mean I should be acting like this.

"Ophelia's mom is good friends with Harry's mom, so they've known each other since middle school.” Matthew suddenly speaks up, and I can feel the blood rise to my cheeks. “They dated for about two years, went to prom together and everything, but they broke up when they graduated."

They dated..?

"Ophelia got a new boyfriend not long after the break-up. They got engaged and everything, but the guy cheated on her so they broke off the engagement like six months ago. Since then, Harry's mom has been forcing him to reconcile with Ophelia, but he was actively opposed to it. Sheila wouldn't let it go though, and usually Harry doesn't mind doing his mom a favor, but this time he was really against it. Now we know why." He smiles at me, like I should be glad with the end of this story.

He dated her for two whole years. They went to prom together, they've known each other since middle school, and his mom is a fan of hers. She wants her son to end up with that girl. I stand absolutely no chance. There is way too much history there. I could never stand above anything like that, ever. God, I hate that. Why do I hate that so much?

My eyes refuse to meet Matthew, but I give him a sad excuse for a smile anyway, to make it seem like he didn't just unintentionally put a serious damper on my mood.

Then, the music starts, and the ceremony begins. I didn't even notice the groom and his men standing by the altar already, but when I look, I catch Harry's eyes on me. He looks confused, or rather concerned. His brows are deeply creased.

I tear my eyes off of him when the bridesmaids walk in, and I immediate know, I immediately feel who Ophelia is.

Gorgeous, long blonde hair with sparkling green eyes and a smile that every Hollywood celebrity pays a good amount of money for. Her petite figure makes me feel immensely big and I hate myself for comparing myself to someone who could not look more different from me. She is stunning and I understand why everyone is so enamored with her. I'm sure she's very nice too.

I know my insecurities are not her fault, but damn do I feel vulnerable when I catch her staring at Harry. My gaze flies towards my fake boyfriend, but it seems that he is still looking at me. I throw him a smile and give a thumbs up, but I only receive a weak, half-smirk in return.

The ceremony seems to last forever, yet I don't catch everything of it. I'm met with a constant pit in my stomach that needs to be flushed away with a glass of wine. I need to get my shit together, and then put it aside, at least until this trip is over. I can figure out my intricate feelings when we're back on the campus, but until that time, I need to play the part and I need to play it well. If anything I should be lucky it isn't as difficult as it was a few weeks ago.

After the bride and groom have gone off to take pictures together, we are all given a glass of champagne. I gladly take one and clink my glass with that of Matthew as we talk about the ceremony and the wedding vows. Harry has disappeared once again, along with the other groomsmen and bridesmaids, so I guess I won't see him until dinner.

I chat a bit with Harry's parents, and Matthew introduces me to some friends of Jimmy's. They're all very nice, some them a bit too flirtatious, but it takes my mind off the Ophelia of it all.

About ten minutes have passed and we make it to the dining hall, where Matthew and I are separated, not before he escorts me to my table of course. My table is very close to that of Rosa and Jimmy, who have seated all of their bridesmaids and groomsmen together.

I sit down and am tapped on my shoulder by Quinten, one of Jimmy's friends who Matthew just introduced me to, and who is sitting at the table behind me. I turn around and begin to chat the time away with him. So much, that I don't notice someone standing besides us until he coughs awkwardly to get our attention.

When I look up at Harry, my mouth falls open a little bit. He looks criminally beautiful in his suit, and his jawline looks to prominent from this angle. I suck in a deep breath at the realization that I had temporarily stopped breathing altogether, and all of my insecurities and blues are washed away by the need to drag him to the nearest bathroom.

"Hi." I manage to let out, a sheepish smile on my face. Harry doesn't look very amused, hands still in his pockets, as his eyes dart from me to Quinten.

"Hey man." Quinten says, but he gets nothing more than a murmured 'hey' from Harry before he tugs on my arm, pulling me out of my chair and into his embrace, where his nose buries into my neck and I feel him taking in my scent. He leaves a couple of kisses there before pulling his head back to look at me.

"You... are breathtaking." He slowly says, staring into my eyes. My cheeks burn at the flattery, but it's impossible to look away from him. My mind is dizzy from his hands — one on the small on my back and the other one on my waist —, and I am feeling too many things at the same time.

I'm still frustrated with him for throwing me into the lion's den without properly telling me what I was getting myself into, I'm giddy because he is too pretty and his eyes glisten in this light, but most of all I'm horny and I want him right now. Ophelia may have him when all of this is over, but for the remainder of this trip he is still mine.

"And you are a shit excuse for a fake boyfriend." I tell him, and look to the side with my nose high up in the air. He raises his brows, clearly taken aback by my response. He doesn't lose his playfulness, though; a wide grin on his face as he lowers his head until the heat of his breath reaches my ear.

"Didn't you read my note?" He asks lowly, before planting a kiss on my ear.

"I did, but it didn't include you saying I wouldn't see you the entire day." I sputter, crossing my arms together. He pulls back with a wary smile.

"Did you miss me today, love?" He asks. I don't initially respond, because I did miss him and that reality is too terrifying to confess.

"So, you and Ophelia dated, huh?" I change the topic, deciding that I might as well throw it on the table. Just so he knows, that I know. "You know, you could've told me this is about making someone jealous."

I purposefully imply something there, solely to see if it's true. Harry's face falters for just a second, and I ask myself whether I even want him to answer this question.

"Y/N, it's–"

"I'm just saying," I cut him off and take a step closer to him, because I, in fact, do not want to know his answer. "If I would've known, I would've played my part better. But I'll be good for you tonight."

"Y/N..." he sounds almost whiny, and that sounds a bit too good to me to stop.

"I promise I'll be a good fake girlfriend, alright?" I smile at him, my arm snaking around his neck. He swallows, then gives me a firm nod.

***

Dinner is excruciating. Harry and I are leaned towards each other the entire time, trying to sit as close to each other as we can. He keeps his hand firmly on my thigh, and in between courses it sneaks to the back of my neck, doodling traces on my skin with his fingertips.

We exchange our so-called love story with everyone at the table and all of them assure me that they have never seen Harry so in love before. I laugh when I turn my head to him and he says it's true. Partly because I know it isn't, and partly because I find it hilarious how a part of me almost believe it to be true anyway.

After dinner, everyone scatters a bit around the room, and the dance floor gets cleared up for the first dance. I don't miss the perfect girl from the past that starts nearing our now empty table, and neither does Harry.

Ophelia awkwardly waves at the both of us; Harry waves back but I only give her a half-smile.

"Can I talk to you for a bit?" She asks Harry hesitantly, and I can't help but fight the smile at the audacity of this girl. But then again, they've known each other for a long time, so technically I am just a temporary nuisance to her.

Harry's head shoots towards me. He doesn't want to be left alone with her, it seems, but I don't make a scene like he secretly wants me to. His green eyes bore into mine and I resent him for a moment just for how pretty he is. I really don't want his eyes on Ophelia, but it is inevitable. A bold thought enters my mind.

I kiss him, just a soft kiss that lasts no more than a few seconds. When I pull back, my mouth travels to his ear and I trace his jawline with my fingertip on the other side of his face as I whisper into his ear.

"I just want you to picture me on my knees in front of you, returning your favor from yesterday, while you talk to her. Something to look forward to after your little conversation with her, hmm?"

Harry doesn't have time to respond because I have already stood up and started walking towards the bar by the time I finished my sentence.

As I wait for the drinks I ordered, I run into two other guys Matthew introduced me to. Robert and Simon, if I remember correctly.

"Getting drinks?" Simon rhetorically asks, pushing some of his blonde hair away from his face, and I raise my glass at him to answer his question. The two chuckle at me.

"Yes, what about you guys?"

"We're just wondering why a woman like you is getting drinks for herself at the bar." Robert smirks, and I playfully roll my eyes. Just at that moment, the bartender sets down Harry's drink in front of me.

"For myself and my date." I correct them with a smile, but they don't seem intimidated by the fact that I am here with someone.

"Shitty date." Simon quips.

"Yeah, you deserve better than that." Robert says, brown eyes full with empty confidence. He earns a supportive nod from his friend.

"Are you guys implying that I can't get my own drinks?" I reiterate, catching them a bit off guard. I can tell they have no idea what to say, they're confused by the contradiction of my supposed sweet smile and my sneering words. As if it was meant to be, I feel a hand on the small of my back.

"Sorry gentlemen, I'm taking back my girlfriend for a minute." Harry's voice suddenly sounds from beside me, and his hand press against me more, urging me to walk with him. I wave goodbye to Robert and Simon and follow him along as he walks — rather fast — towards the exit of the dining hall.

He takes me to a door and opens it, revealing a pitch black room. I frown at it, but hurry in anyway when he grits 'get in' through his teeth. I flinch when he turns on the light and reveals the broom closet we are currently finding ourselves in.

I am about to criticize the harsh lighting of the room, when all of a sudden Harry grabs my waist, turns me around and plants his lips on mine with a need I thought only I was feeling.

I stumble back a bit but he snakes his entire arm around my waist and pulls me into him, turning us around and then backing me up against the door. After a while of making out, he begins to move his lips from jawline to my neck, and lower...

I pant as he assaults my skin by sucking, kissing and biting every part of it. I whimper at the sensation of his skin against mine and close my eyes to enjoy it most optimally.

"You drive me insane, do you know that?" He growls into my neck, and I moan when his hand grabs one of my breasts and starts massaging it.

"No, you do." I push him off of me, and he lets go very easily. I take the opportunity to turn us around, pushing him against the door with all my strength, a few of his curls land in front of his face as his back hits the surface. I go to unzip his pants, and sink down in front of him as I pull his trousers down.

"You disappear all day..." I slowly lower his underwear down his legs, and he hisses at the sensitivity his hardened cock feels from the restraint. I know Harry's big, my ex friend told me about it, and the tent in his underpants only confirmed it for me. "And I find out you spent the entire day around your ex-girlfriend."

His cock springs out of its confinements when I finally pull his underpants all the way down, and I try not to look intimidated by the actual sight of his size. Instead, I lean forward and let some saliva slowly trickle onto the top of his cock, and spread it out with my hand. The immediate groan at the touch of my hand makes me feel things I shouldn't, so I try to ignore it and focus on making Harry come.

"Fuck, baby... I–"

"Such a bad fake boyfriend today, weren't you?" I begin to pump him, and delight in the way his breathing becomes heavier with every stroke. When he doesn't respond right away, I tighten my grip around his dick a little bit, earning a moan from him.

"Yes baby. I'm sorry, baby." He mutters, and my stomach twists in every which way at the sound of the pet name he’s given me today.

I decide that enough is enough, I won't make him wait any longer — also because I can’t wait any longer — so I take him in my mouth. He is quite big, so I have to use my hand to make up for the parts my throat isn't able to take just yet. I take my time working his cock deeper and deeper into my throat.

Making sure to keep an eye out on him, I look up at him through my eyelashes, my panties pooling as I watch Harry falling apart above me. He’s clenching his jaw hard, head leaned back against the door.

"Jesus, fuck!" He curses, out of breath from the pleasure I am giving him. That notion alone gives me a dizzying rush of power. His hand finds it way to my hair and he softly plays with it as I keep sucking him off. "Such a g–good girl, fucking hell."

I take him out of my mouth for a moment and get back to rubbing him off, a devilish smirk on my face as he succumbs almost entirely to my touch. The moans that leave his throat almost make me orgasm myself. I can’t contain the moan I let out.

"Tell me Harry, did you think of me?" I pick up the pace just a little bit more. "When you talked to her, did you imagine me like this? Bruising my knees for you?"

"Fuck— yeah baby... Always think of you." His eyes are tightly shut as he rasps out a response. I take him back into my mouth, needing his release almost as much him.

"Oh... Y/N, if you keep doing that I'm gonna come." He says when I take him as deep as I can and his dick touches the back of my throat. I am too busy controlling my breathing, and besides, I want him to come right here, right now.

"Baby, baby, fucking... hell!” He groans out and I begin to feel spurts of his hot cum launch into my throat. I meal at the feeling and the idea of his cum in my mouth and I wait until he's ridden out his high to completely remove myself from his dick.

I get up and make sure he watches me as I swallow the load he just gave me. He stares at me with big eyes, completely out of breath.

“Was it just like you imagined?” I ask with a devious smile, wiping off the remains of him from the corner of my mouth. He lets out a chuckle of disbelief, and my heart is racing at the way he is standing there, entirely defeated, but a hand on my waist anyway.

“I don’t know what I did right to deserve that.” He mutters, a joking tone to his voice, but my cheeks still heat up at the compliment. I realize, I have never taken this much pleasure out of pleasuring someone else. I’d pay serious money to have him crumble for me like that again, and because that thought scared me to death, I push it far away into the back of my head.

“Put on your pants. You’re taking me to dance.” I order him around, and he raises his brows in surprise, and leans down to put on his trousers.

“You like being in control, don’t you?” He asks as he zips his pants. A few curls have fallen to the front of his face and I don’t think I have ever seen an image that screams ‘sex’ more than that one. I shrug.

“I like seeing you fall apart for me.” I confess, because it’s true. I’ve never explicitly liked being in control, I’m a bit more submissive in that sense. But seeing him in that state of euphoria, and knowing it’s because of me… that is what I enjoyed the most.

“Do you now?” He looks up at me with a soft half-smile, and he pushes some hair from the front of my face behind my ear while pulling me into him with his other hand. I nod at him.

He stares at my face a for a bit, analyzing every feature in the comfortable silence that overtakes us. My shoulders automatically tense when his gaze, and thereby the entire energy around us, shifts from soft to almost… sad?

He fixes his posture and plants a kiss to my forehead before moving away from the door, opening it, then turning back to me.

“Dance?” I ask him almost desperately, hoping his energy will shift back.

“Drink, first.” He gives me an awkward smile, and I know there’s no going back to how it was just a few seconds ago. He saw something when he looked at me just now. I don’t know what it was, but it’s almost like it scared him. This relationship is getting too complicated, and I don’t know what I should take as the truth while we are still here.

Maybe, whatever scared him, is something I should be scared of too. Perhaps, taking a step back is the best for both of us, even though it feels like the last thing I want want to do right now.

“Drink first.” I weakly lift the corner of my mouth, and walk past him out the door…

Part 4

Link to my masterlist

#harry styles smut one shot #Harry styles #smut #one shot #fanfic #writing #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one direction

[missmielyhoran]

Little Freak

in which Autumn likes her twin brother's best friend, and maybe he likes her too...

(BBF!Harry × reader)

A/N- This is my depressive episode writing, so if it's sad, you know why

[Warning- Angsty, dad went to bring milk, daddy issues, unrequited love?, Harry being his usual fuck boy flirt, depression, anxiety, shitty mental health, mention self harm, body dysmorphia, eating disorder]

Masterlist

*****

Yellow.

A color usually associated with happiness, sunshine, and youth is also a color of jealousy, envy, and deceit.

Sometimes, you felt like yellow.

A sunshine, happy next-door girl who everyone loved, had loads of friends but also a girl who feels gloomy, insecure, and cowardly inside.

He wasn't yellow. No, he was green. Color of nature, safe and happiness, but also jealousy, evil, and envy.

Harry Styles was neither bad nor good.

He was a charming, good-looking boy. He knew that everyone knew that. He was a great friend to have, would let you copy off his homework, let you smoke his weed when you're sad, and would even skip classes with you.

But you got to hate yourself if you ever fall in love with him.

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, which was a rare occasion, but it was a rare occasion considering your mom had invited her boyfriend over to meet you and your brother and somehow your looking good was important.

Asher didn't care. If he could move in next door into Styles Family, he would. Mentally, you think he already had.

You did though.

Your mom was happy in a very long time, and you were happy for her. It was hard when your dad just up and left one night, and it was especially hard on her, but she kept herself together for you and your brother. Now she was living for herself, and you were happy for her.

You put your half of your hair up in a pigtails and then made a bubble braid out of it, your bangs you recently cut by yourself after a mental breakdown turned out kind of nice considering your eye were blurry from tears. You put on a oversize tshirt which you think would be oversized on your brother also from how wide it was and some baggs jeans and called it a day.

You deliberately went downstairs, knowing your mum will be mad for wearing something like this and not something nice.

"Sweet Jesus Autumn. Have I not bought you good clothes?" Your mum asked standing in kitchen with her hands on her hips.

"Asher is literally wearing tanktop right now," you pointed at your brother. Your mother's face twisted in borderline anger and digust and to be honest you were a bit too cause that tanktop looked like cumrag.

"Asher Bree, you have five minutes to go upstairs and get dressed." Your mum warned your brother who just chuckled. She held up her finger, counting one, two, and no one ever knew what happened after three cause he ran upstairs to his room.

You smiled and started helping your mum by setting up the table. Soft tunes from the radio were filling the room, and you and your mom hummed to the music. The main door opened, and your brother's girlfriend walked in, her blonde hair up in bun, dressed in a pretty dress.

Sometimes, you wondered if you could ever look like her. She would always tell you that it was nonsense and that you were way prettier than her, but you knew it was a lie.

"Hey, kid." She smiled at you and gave your mum a hug, passing her the Tupperware she had in her hand, "I will go see him" She said smiling.

"Yes, please dress him in something other than a tanktop and sweatpants." You mum groaned, making both you and Imani laugh.

You were back in the flow with your mum when Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac started playing. Your mum walked towards you, taking your hand in hers, and twirled you around in the kitchen.

For a second the world looked warm, soft, comforting like sunshine after a long cold winter first touches the thin layer of ice on grass then the door opened, you heard the distinct laugh and the world got a bit more warmer.

You turned around and saw Harry laughing with your brother, who was now dressed in a black shirt and loose jeans counterpart to Harry, who was in grey sweats and a band tee.

"Hey Otter," Harry teased, and your face flushed like always. It seemed like a drop of attention from him made you blush like a pre-teen girl.

"Hey Har," you greeted back. He gave you a smirk and got back to talking to your brother. The world around you seemed like sunshine and glitters. All you needed was a hint of his attention.

Maybe that should have been the first red flag, a single person being the sole reason for your happiness.

You got back to helping your mum when you heard the footsteps going upstairs. Harry was getting dragged up by your brother. You felt a bit sad knowing you wouldn't see him for hours now, at least not until Josh comes.

You were about to remove your eyes when he looked back and shot you a smile over his shoulder. A swarm of butterflies erupted your stomach, heart, everywhere, turning your brain to mush.

Imani, from beside you, nudged her shoulder with yours teasing you, obviously catching the little interaction. She was the only one who knew about your little (huge) crush on Harry. It was pathetic honestly, how a small thing like friendly hi and smile made you react like a mad woman.

*****

Josh was sweet, mostly cause he brought you your chocolates. Childish? maybe, but you loved chocolates, but god, he cracked some bad jokes, and your mum still laughed loudest like it was the funniest thing ever.

"His jokes are worse than mine." You heard him whisper near your ear, his breath causing goosebumps to erupt on your neck, traveling down to your whole body.

"Are they?" You teased keeping your eyes in front, but you could feel his on you for a second, like a flewting moment it was there, then it wasn't.

"My jokes are far better, Otter," He said back with pride. You laughed behind your hand. Everyone else on the table didn't notice your little interaction cause they emerged in their own, and you were thankful for that.

"Like the hola hoop one." You let out a breathy chuckle and looked at him beside you. He smiled and shook his head.

"You're mean Otter and Otters are not supposed to be mean they're cute." He flicked your nose and got back into the conversation with your others. Meanwhile, you sat there eyes wide staring at him. Your body was feeling like you were on cloud, flying on them over them under them.

Did he just flirted with you?

There have been multiple times he had talked to you but calling you cute? the tension? that had to be flirting. With giddy insides, you ate your dinner for the first time. You want to run around and squeal in happiness, but you contain yourself.

"So I wanted to ask you both something," your mum says suddenly, clearing her throat.

Both you and your brother looked up at her, waiting for her to continue. She looked beside her at Josh and then raised her eyebrows.

"You're not pregnant are you?" Your brother speaks first and you almost choke on your pasta. You start coughing and feel a large hand rubbing your back up and down. Your face grows red as you look up at Harry and give him a smile.

"What? No!" Your mum looks at your brother like he had two heads while he just shrugs and sits back.

"I was going to ask if you would like Josh moving in with us," She asks, shaking her head at Asher's bluntness.

"I don't mind," you speak first. Josh was a nice guy, even though this was first time you guys have officially sat down and met you have seen him around, exchanged casual hellos and what not and apart from his knees man didn't have one bad bone in his body.

"Me too. I like Josh he makes nice smoothies, " your brother said with his mouth full of food. You and your mum both roll their eyes while Josh laughs and promises to make him smoothies every day.

*****

Dinner went by nicely, and soon enough, Josh was on his way home. You cleaned all the plates and put them in the dishwasher while Asher cleaned the table and kitchen. Harry had gone back to your brother's room upstairs. You could hear the faint laughter of him and Imani and the sound of a video game going on.

Your brother walked in the kitchen after cleaning the table and sat up on the kitchen counter. He sighed loudly, trying to get your attention, which worked as you looked at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows.

"Do you like Josh?" He whispers so mum couldn't hear. You closed the door of dishwasher and turned to him and leaned back on the counter.

"He's not bad." You shrugged, "I thought you liked him with all that smoothies, and what not. " You crooked an eyebrow at him teasing him.

"He does make good smoothie!" He said with nodding his head like he could taste it. You laughed and shook your head at his absurdity making him laigh also, "I just don't want what happened with Dad to happen again" He sighed and you did too.

It wasn't like you two were very young when it happened to have a hazy memory. No, you were 10, almost 11. The memory of your mum calling police department and every family member scared of not knowing where your dad left at night was still in front of both of our minds. It went on like that for two months. You and Asher saw your mum go down the rails and drink her mind off. She would never let you know that something was wrong. It was still Saturday pancakes and sunday pizza. It was still friday movie nights, but you could see the smile not reaching her eyes anymore.

She found your dad's new facebook account by accident one day and saw him living his life happily with his new girlfriend in Houston. it was hard, but it was also easy cause all of you were together. That doesn't mean you want to see your mum like that again.

"I don't think so. Surprisingly enough, I trust Josh." You gave your brother a smile while he scrunched up his face. It was no brainer that your dad leaving hurt him the most. They were best friends, doing everything together, going fishing, shopping, anything. You sometimes felt jealous of him getting your dad's affection more, but you had your mum. So, when dad left, it scarred him badly. Not only did he now have trouble trusting people, but he also became overprotective of both you and your mum but especially you.

You would say he was a typical overprotective brother, but it was more than that. It was primal instinct of not wanting to see you get hurt the same way you mum did.

"C'mon cut poor guy some slacks," you said, patting his back while he just rolled his eyes and flipped you off, which you answered back same.

You went up to your room and changed out of clothes. You put on your ratty old t-shirt you didn't know was your or Asher's and some basketball shorts, which were Asher's.

You put your hair in a braid and laid back in bed comfortably. You had a good day in a very long time. Yeah, it was gloomy a bit, but which day wasn't? As long as it was better than others and you didn't go down in the dark path of your mind, it was okay.

You had just gotten settled with your book when you heard Asher yell your name from his room. At first, you decided to ignore it. It was probably some dumb thing like calling you to switch off his lights or fetch him some water cause his bed was warm and he didn't want to leave the comfort. Then he yelled again and again, and you gave up.

You stomped towards his room groaning cause now you had to leave your warm bed for that little shit who could do his own work.

"What is it ya little shit?" You asked in an annoyed tone. He only rolled his eyes, "Call me that again turd face, and you will be grounded for a week," He said, and you huffed, knowing it was true.

"Anyways c'mere and sit on Harry's back" He said like it was a no big deal. You jaw hunged like a comic character looking between Harry who was laying on gound on his back beside your brother.

"Pardon me?" You said in disbelieve and huffed out a breathy chuckle.

"Pardon me," Asher mocked, "Get your little Shakespeare ass on his back. I want to see who can do more push-ups," He said, looking at Harry competitively, who just smirked up at him.

Both Asher and Harry were good looking everyone knew that even they. As much as it pained you, your brother did get the beauty which was annoying cause you two were twins. Harry and Asher both were of same height, built body with muscles and in same basketball team which your brother was captain of.

In school, you and your brother both were popular. The difference was that you were popular for your smartness and good grades, and Asher for his looks and being the captain, but Harry was both. He was a good player, good-looking and good in studies.

You blushed and walked in more inside the room, closing the door behind you. Harry finally looked at you for a second like he always does. It's always a fleeting look, making you wonder if he actually wanted to look or if you were just in his line of vision.

You sat down beside him, considering Asher was sitting near his bed with Imani on his lap, and Harry was lying down near him towards the door. Your hand fiddled with the end of your basketball shorts while Harry and Asher bicker about who would win.

Harry finally rolled onto his stomach and supported himself up on his elbows. He looked at you sideways, "Hop on Otter. Gotta show your brother we're best." He smirked, and your brother rolled his eyes booing from his place

We. He said we. We were perfect. You screamed internally. Whoever's face you saw when you first woke up that day and let you have this beautiful day you would probably see it every day.

You gently sat yourself on his back, which was sturdy as fuck. You put your hand down to cross your legs up when you felt his back muscles, contracting and twitching from your movement. You gripped his shoulder for balance, which again felt so sturdy and muscular.

You knew he was built. You have seen him in revealing tanktops and sometimes even shirtless when it's pool day, and it always leaves you hot and bothered, and it was never because of summer heat.

You were so busy in your daydreaming of his shirtless body that you missed the countdown, and he abruptly went down, which made you shriek and giggle. Under you, you felt Harry's shoulder and back rumble a bit. He was also laughing with you.

Imani was the same on your brother's back. She had more experience, which you really didn't want to think about. There have been many things you have walked in on you wished with all your breath you could wipe away.

You kept a strong grip on Harry's shoulder cause one, you were scared you were going to fall, and second, you didn't know if you would ever get the opportunity to hold him and feel his muscles like this again.

They probably did thirty push ups when your brother lost his balance and fell down, and in return, Harry also stopped without telling you which had you stumbling down beside him on the floor.

You shrieked again and rolled onto your side holding your stomach laughing. Your brother was also laughing with Imani sitting with him as back support.

Harry was sweaty all of you were. His hair sticked to his forehead, and some fanned on the floor like halo. His face had a flush from the workout and a dimpled smile on his face. He gave you a sideways glance and shook his head chuckling.

You were also sweaty, hot, and flushed, but for some completely other reasons, along with the summer heat.

"I won," Asher declared to which Imani swatted his chest. "What? I did an extra push-up than him. " He defended his case.

"Yeah, well, I had extra weight asshole give me my money," Harry said out of blue. You didn't know if he noticed or not. Your brother certainly didn't. You sat up straight and tugged down your already long t-shirt as if it would cover you up.

They were arguing now. It was playful, you could tell. A smile was evident on all three of their faces, but yours was wiped clean like a slate. You stood up and went to your room without being noticed by anyone.

Extra weight.

Those two words rang in your ears as you shut the door behind you. Were you really that heavy? Of course you were, and of course, he noticed it.

You tried so hard to make yourself look pretty, skinny, like other girls, but you could never be. Your thighs were chubby. Your lower tummy won't go in no matter how much you don't eat or work out.

You hated your body, yourself, and you had marks to prove it. There was not a sight of mirror in your room, except the one in the bathroom, which stays covered 90% of the time cause last time you saw yourself, you had a full-blown mental breakdown.

You dared to pull your t-shirt up a bit, curious yo see how your body looked. Shockingly enough, you had forgotten what it looked like, but before you could look down, your bedroom door pushed open. You hurriedly pulled your t-shirt down, scared that it was your mom or Asher and you had to explain now, but it wasn't.

It was Harry.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I should have knocked," he spoke, his hand covering his eyes. You were still in flight and fright mode, thinking he saw your marks, but then you realized he thought you were changing clothes and you sighed in relief.

"It's okay," you said, and he peeked through between his fingers and then removed his hand.

"I- um" He itched the back of his head, "After you left I kind of realized what I said" He cleared his throat, "It was dick of me to make joke like that- um- sorry?" He scrunched his nose.

The last bit came off as a question, but you didn't care. There he was, your brother's cute best friend you always had crush on apologizing. Was it bare minimum? lower than that, your bar was in Satan's ass. But you have never gotten it. No, boys always made fun of you or even girls subtly hinting at you eating a bit much or you gaining weight, and none of them ever apologized once.

You didn't know if it was cause he was standing few inches away from you and you could see his eyes shining from the moonlight or if it was the whole day of giggly flirting or the feelings you had for him whatever it was it made you make that stupid decision.

Before you could think and second guess the act, you stood on your tippy toes and pressed your lips on his.

It was like electricity, like they write in poems and books. Your hand was on his shoulder his holding your elbows. It was quick, and at first, he reciprocated the kiss. For a quick second, his lips were moving with yours, but then it stopped.

It was no more than thirty to forty seconds going by you realized what you have done and that Harry was literally rigid in front of you. Before you could pull back, Harry pushed you with his hands gripping your shoulder.

His eyes were wide, and so you were yours. Horror, pain, sadness, and panic all ran through your body at the same time. He didn't like you like that. All the flirting all the signs were just you in your brain, taking his friendliness for something else, and now you have ruined a good friendship.

You opened your mouth to apologize to say anything, but before that could happen, Harry stormed out of your room, shutting door loudly behind him.

*****

If you suffer from any trauma, eating disorders, body dysmorphia, anxiety, etc, please seek help or talk to your friends/loved ones about it. There are many people who are willing to listen to you, and that includes me also. I'm here whole day much willing to hear you.

I love you, stay hydrated, love yourself and others♡

You can talk to me here♡ REQUEST ARE CLOSED

Taglist- @tiaamberxx @harryspirate

#brother's best friend #brother's best friend harry #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #bbf!harry #best friend's sister #angst harry #harry angst #harry fluff #harry smut #fratboy harry smut #Spotify

[walker-extended-universe]

Funhouse Mirror, Chapter 1

Relationship(s): August Walker & Cordell Walker & Stella Walker, Geri Broussard & August Walker

Tags/Warnings: Magics, Potions, Genderbend, Genderswap, Mistakes, Angst and Fluff, Hijinks and Shenanigans, Family Feels

Summary: August and Stella are messing around with spells again. August suffers the consequences.

Part of the Walkernatural series

Written for @tropetember Prompt 21- Genderswap

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

-----

August and Stella were slowly but surely climbing up the ladder from novice witches to practice witches. That meant Rowena was giving them more intense homework to practice with in between their sessions, which meant Stella got very excited about trying out new spells. And it’s not that August wasn’t excited to try out new things and see what they could do- it’s that Stella had a tendency to pick the harder spells.

“Are you sure about this Dream Potion?” August asked, swirling the dark purple liquid in his cup. “It doesn’t look right?”

“I’m sure,” Stella said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Last time you said that, you switched bodies with Uncle Sam.”

She smacked him upside the head. “Shut up and drink it. I wanna see if it works.”

“Okay, but if I die-”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll tell all the girls at school it was some heroic venture and donate all your stuff to charity. Now drink.”

August rolled his eyes but complied. He grimaced on his first sip. Magic rarely tasted good but this one was particularly foul. “Are you sure you did it right?”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, yes! Just drink it!”

“Alright, alright, geeze…” August downed the rest of it in a few big gulps, each more disgusting than the last. Once the cup was empty he set it down and coughed. “Okay, so…what’s supposed to happen now?”

Stella looked back at the spellbook. “Now, you’ll fall asleep in a few minutes, have a dream, and when you wake up you’ll remember every detail about it.”

August nodded. “Okay. Well, I’m going to bed then. See you in an hour.”

Stella waved him off and started flipping through the book again. He walked up the stairs to his bedroom, yawning as the effects of the potion started to hit him. He crashed as soon as he made it to his bedroom, falling face first into the mattress as sleep pulled him under.

—-----

When August woke up, something felt different. His first thought was that the potion didn’t work because he didn’t remember any dreams at all, let alone in great detail. His second thought was that something was wrong but his sleep-fogged mind couldn’t quite put a finger on what.

That all changed when he stood up.

The first thing he noticed was that his pants didn’t fit right anymore. The second thing he noticed was that the front of his shirt didn’t reach his waistline anymore and he felt the cool air of his room on his midriff. The third thing he noticed was the curtain of long hair in his face that wasn’t there when he fell asleep.

He brushed the hair aside and looked down to see…breasts?

“What the fuck?” He clapped a hand over his mouth when he heard his voice. He sounded like a girl.

No. No, there was no way this was happening. Maybe this was the dream. It had to be.

He dashed to the bathroom down the hall. Surely the mirror wouldn’t lie to him.

“STELLA! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU PUT IN THAT POTION?!”

—---

If there was one thing that Cordell had learned from raising two children, it was that if things were quiet, something bad was about to happen.

Which is why when he came home to Stella sitting by herself at the dining table and no other noise in the house, his anxiety spiked. “Hey, Stellablue….. Everything okay?”

“Uh…. If by ‘okay’ you mean everyone is alive and there’s no major impending doom…. Mostly.”

Of course . Was it too much to ask to have just one day where the universe wasn’t imploding in his living room? “What happened?”

Stella bit her lip. “Well, Rowena gave us a new book to practice with and it’s our first chance to do potions alone….”

Of fucking course this was a magical problem. Why did he agree to them getting lessons from the Queen of Hell of all people? “I’m guessing your practice didn’t go well?”

“I thought I did everything right, I swear! I didn’t substitute any ingredients or anything. I did lose count of my stirs but I didn’t think it’d be that much of a problem….”

Cordell was going to need a few drinks of a potion called “whiskey” to get through this one. “What happened?”

“Well…. August drank it and it didn’t do what it was supposed to do.”

“What did it do?”

She turned and looked at the stairs. “Augie? Dad’s home….” she called.

“I’m not coming out!” yelled a voice that definitely did not sound like his son. It sounded like a girl. A very angry teenage girl.

Cordell gripped the back of his chair and gave Stella his best “I’m not mad I’m just disappointed” glare. “Stella…. What did you do to your brother?”

“I just want to make it clear that I did not mean for this to happen-”

“Answer my question.”

“Well….” Stella bit her lip and twisted her hair in between her fingers. “The potion kind of….turned him into a girl. And I’m not sure what went wrong so I’m not entirely sure how to turn him back.”

Just one day of peace. Is that too much to ask? “Okay. I- You- Sit. I’m gonna go check on August and then we’ll- We’ll figure out how we’re going to handle this until we fix him. And we’ll figure out a suitable punishment for you.”

“But I-”

“Do not dig a deeper hole for yourself young lady. I thought after last time you knew better than to do magic unsupervised.”

Stella muttered a quiet and petulant “Yes sir” but didn’t argue any further. He was going to take that as a win for now.

Cordell quietly tread up the stairs and steeled himself before knocking on August’s door. “Hey, Augie…. You okay in there?”

“What do you think?” August snapped. “I woke up and I’m a girl !I have breasts!”

  Jesus Christ that was not a mental image he needed. “Yeah, I heard-”

“And my voice is annoying! I sound like a stereotype! And my hair is too long and I haven’t even touched it and somehow it’s tangled and it’s just- everywhere . And now my- my plumbing is all different and my body is-”

“Okay, okay, I get it! It’s weird and uncomfortable and nobody is happy about it.” He really didn’t need an in-depth description. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried really, really not to picture what his son looked like on the other side of the door. Which would have to open eventually. Probably. Was there a way to avoid that?

Focus, Walker.

What the hell was he supposed to do about this? Obviously they had to call Rowena- something he never looked forward to- but he knew better than to plan for her having an immediate solution. Whether they liked it or not, August was going to have to live like this for a while. Was he going to have to have the Talk with him? He barely made it through the one with Stella and he had Emily with him that time. How was he gonna handle this alone?

Unless-

No. He didn’t have to handle it alone. Geri was a girl- woman. She’d know what to do. And August was more likely to listen to her than him or Stella. Yeah, that could work. He’d just call Geri. That would solve some of these problems.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna call Aunt Geri. And- She’ll come over and she’ll help. And then once you’re- Once you’re comfortable, you can come out-” Oh god he’s going to have an actual image to deal with “- and then we’ll figure out a solution with Rowena, okay?”

“What?! No, I’m not coming out!”

“August, you’re gonna have to eventually….” Cordell sighed and winced at August’s now very shrill displeasure. “Look, we- We don’t know how long you’ll be like this and you have school-”

“You’re gonna make me go to SCHOOL like this????”

“Ah- Well, we-we can talk about that. Just- Let me call Geri and we can start working things out, okay?”

August groaned and Cordell could hear him stamping around on the carpeted floor of the bedroom. “Fine! Just- Only Geri can come in here.”

“Yep. Definitely. That’s fine. I’ll let you know when she’s on the way.”

—------

If there was one thing Geri Broussard had learned after over 20 years of being around the Walkers, it was to be prepared for any number of dramatic scenarios waiting on the other end of a phone call. However, nothing could have prepared her for this call from Cordell.

“What do you mean, Stella turned August into a girl?”

“I don’t know! Some magic practice gone wrong or something. Just-” Cordell groaned. “Look, August is holed up in his room and he’s refusing to come out to even talk about this. He needs clothes. And probably some guidance. And he’s not talking to Stella and I doubt she has anything that will fit him anyway so….”

“So you decided to outsource the solution to me.” She sighed. “Alright, I’ll stop by my house and pick up something for him and see if I can get him out of his room. Is he going to need more than a set of clothes?”

“I- Well, that depends on how soon we can get this fixed. Ideally, Rowena will know what to do but….”

“Chances are he’ll be stuck like this for a while.” Of course. “Well, in that case, I may need to take him shopping for clothes that will actually fit him, especially bras.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds good. If you can talk him into it.”

“Cordell Walker, you don’t need to be so awkward about this. You already raised a girl.”

“I had time to mentally prepare for Stella! This all happened in one afternoon! I wasn’t ready for it!”

“Okay, okay, geeze, calm down.” Geri covered the speaker end of the phone to let the new bartender know she was taking the rest of the day off. “I’ll be over there in an hour, alright? Tell August to hang in there.”

She stopped by her house and picked out a few different pants and shirts. Then she stopped off at a shopping center real quick to pick up underwear. They probably wouldn’t fit him exactly but they would be good enough until she could take him shopping. Hopefully, this whole thing could be resolved quickly but things rarely worked out that way.

As promised, she was knocking on August’s door in one hour. “Hey, Augie. It’s me. I brought some stuff for you to wear….”

The door cracked open and Geri carefully stepped in to see… August. But not.

The teenager in front of her definitely looked like August. Just… as a girl. His hair, normally cropped short in an overgrown bowl cut, now reached halfway down his back. His face was softer, all the same features just a bit more delicate. He was still tall and relatively skinny but Geri could tell he had a more feminine figure and his clothes hung on him all wrong.

“Huh. Your dad wasn’t kidding.” She brushed aside some of his hair so she could get a better look at his face.

August blushed and crossed his arms. “Yeah, I know I look all weird.”

Geri gave him a small smile. “You look different, sure. But you’re still August. And, if I may say, you make a pretty cute girl.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What did you bring me?”

Geri showed him the options she brought. “They probably won’t fit perfectly but they’ll do until we can buy you something.”

August tried on a few things until he settled on an outfit and let Geri fix this hair into a braid. “This’ll do until we get this fixed,” August muttered. “I hope it won’t be too long.”

“Well, you’re a good witch,” Geri said. “I’m sure between you and Stella and Rowena, you can figure something out.”

—------

Rowena hummed, inspecting the remains of the potion. “This is going to be a tricky one. Not impossible, mind you, but it’s going to take a little time to figure out the root issue and find a cure.”

August groaned, banging his head against the surface of the table. “I was afraid you’d say that….”

Stella gently pet his back. “I’m really sorry, Augie. I don’t know what went wrong. But we’ll fix this, I promise.”

“You better,” Cordell muttered. “And we’re going to set much stricter rules about your magic practice. I mean, the whole point of you two taking lessons was that things like this wouldn’t happen!”

“But Rowena-”

“For once, I agree with your father.” Rowena cut a glare at Stella. “I admire your passion and ambition for magic, but this is not something to do recklessly. It’s not an exact science and messing about with things you don’t understand can only lead to trouble. I give you spellbooks to study in your own time, not for unsupervised practice. One more mistake like this and I’m going to lose a valuable Amazon pickup point.”

Cordell grunted. “Why do you use our house for that, exactly?”

“Because Amazon doesn’t deliver to Hell yet, dear. And your brothers won’t let me use their PO box anymore.”

August tuned their bickering out and tried not to have a panic attack over his current situation. He was suddenly, randomly, a girl and there was no solution in sight. Who knew how long he was going to be stuck like this. What if it was permanent?

“Hey, Augie, chill,” Stella murmured. “I know this is scary but we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

He hoped she was right.

#walker #walker fanfic #walker fic #walkernatural #crossover #au #my writing #my fic #tropetember #genderbend

[mysecretclosetfiction]

Dramatics

English is not my first language,not proof read

Part 1

Rhea smiles looking up from your lap. You smile back and ask "what is it baby?" Still smiling she buries her head into your chest. You take your hand on her chin and tilt it upwards only to see her cheeks are heavily flushed. You giggle at her before kissing her nose. She clears her throat and says " my family is coming next month to visit me" looking down at her hands. "That's amazing babe, I know how much you miss them. Who's coming?"

"Everyone! Mom,dad,my sister,our dogs, uncle and two cousins " she responded excitedly

You were really happy for her knowing this was so long overdue. Then you notice she's staring at you so with a raised brow you ask her what's on her mind. She smiles grinning from ear to ear almost yelling out " I want you to meet my family!" quickly hiding her head in your neck her cheeks heating up again.

"Shit fuck damnit" is where your thoughts go immediately. It's not that you don't love her or anything but this seemed fast. Well it wasn't fast but you were scared to affirm your relationship to other people, paranoid that it would end soon after. Completely irrational but your past relationships made sure you never trusted anyone fully.

"I would love to meet your family love" were the words that actually came out of your mouth. Your girlfriend shot you an exited look and hugged you so tightly you almost couldn't breathe. You were happy that this is making her so excited even though you were just about to begin lose your mind .

You two spend the rest of the afternoon cuddling on the sofa. Your anxious mind growing louder in your head, trying to contain your hands from shaking you decided to leave the house before you scare her. Getting up you kiss her passionately, escaping her embrace as she grunts lightly. As you're rushing, putting on your shoes you hear footsteps getting closer. You open the door thinking you escaped when Rhea puts her big hand on the door pushing them closed. As you turn to face her with the questioning look she immediately presses you against the door,her hands setting on your waist, kissing you passionately. You relaxed into the kiss knowing nothing can make you feel as good as her kisses ..well almost nothing, definitely not from anyone else other than her.

Inside your car you get the sense of overwhelming anxiety rushing through your body completely taking over. You arrive at your apartment trying to keep your mind busy with anything to avoid you from overthinking about meeting them. What if they don't like you. What if they do. Will they accept you even tough you're the first girl/person Rhea would introduce to them. The wheels were spinning fast...

Dropping down to the floor you can't help but to chuckle to yourself for knowing how irrational you were behaving. Just as you exhaled the same way you were taught in meditation class your phone starts ringing. It's Rhea. You just bluntly stare at the phone waiting for it to stop ringing. Two seconds later you get her texts

" Hey babygirl 💕 I was calling to ask you if you're available for dinner tomorrow night? I miss you already 🥺 I love you!!!💗

Great now you need to lie to her toget out of this. You couldn't imagine loving anyone as much as you loved her. Which came with a downside. See Rhea really knew you. She would know you're hiding something even without saying a word. And you couldn't bring yourself to ruin her excitement just because you had an issue from your past. You decided you'll text her back later and that you should probably spend some time trying to calm down your mind before speaking to anyone. Throwing your phone on the bed you headed to the bathroom to take a shower. You really thought hot water will relax you but all you could focus on was that stupid lie you told which is now bitting you in the ass. Why did you say you'd love to meet them instead of just being honest with your girlfriend...this is what you get for lying...

You wrapped a towel around your dripping wet body heading back to your room trying to find some clothes but instead you ended up sitting on the floor folding and reorganizing your whole closet. At least cleaning was helping you to forget anything about Rhea. Thankgod for your ocd tendencies. After there was nothing else you could possibly organize you went to check your phone seeing 3 hours already passed since the last text Rhea has send you saying " Babe? Are you okay?"

The guilt rushed over you. Here you were having the sweetest girlfriend anyone could ever have and you're ignoring her bc you're delulu. You started to text her when your phone started ringing again,caller id saying Rhea 🦇

You swallowed hard getting ready to sound as cheerful as you possibly could so she doesn't start suspecting anything.

#rhea ripley #rhea x reader #rhea ripley x reader #wwe #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley fiction #demi bennett #soft rhea ripley #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley x female reader #wlw fiction

[kimikawa]

NaClYoHo, The End

Things Done (FINAL DAY)

bought Christmas cards for immediate family

mailed things for work

submitted things for work (late)

used up some more cosmetics and samples

As I am in Japan, the end of the November has already arrived for me. I found my original list of things I wanted to do in November, and there are many I did not get to in the end. One, at least, I had already said I was going to do at the end of the month, as it was donating a box of things, and it seemed best to do that when I was done going through things.

That end did not come. Not yet, at least.

Some of it is because I work nearly full-time hours at my job, and I try to stream when I get home. Because of these, some ideas like descaling my bathroom (the water here is a bit hard), so for now, I am still scrubbing when I remember to.

Other problems were financial. I simply just couldn't replace things that needed to be replaced until after I could pay off my credit card bill, and so some things will get done in December or January instead.

NaClYoHo was not just about the things I did not, or could not, accomplish. Time management is a problem I have, and some of the reason I didn't do things like go through more of my closet for things to donate is because I decided to change my focus from preparing things to donate to using up things - or making empties, for cosmetics.

I used up cosmetics and other toiletries - or finally got rid of them because they were old af. I went through my spices and things, and got rid of empty bottles and expired things. I cooked the dried beans I had bought ages ago (and learned I will never ever fucking do it again; canned forever, my stress levels were through the roof). I made chocolate cake, which I hadn't done at all last year when I had zero time at all. I got rid of expired medicine and tidied up my tea collection.

I also, with some sadness but with more understanding and conviction, parted ways with some crafting supplies. I hadn't touched them in years, and I simply do not have the time and space for them. I also am not as interested in doing those as some of the other hobbies I have picked up and also set aside. Those sewing supplies do not even belong to a past version of me - only an idealized one, who has time and space and money for a sewing hobby.

But I don't have those, I am not that person, and I honestly prefer editing my streams into YouTube videos.

While I didn't accomplish all the things on my list for NaClYoHo, I did change my goals, so it's understandable that what I had wanted was unfinished. I also don't feel guilty about not doing them, which is the surprising part. I think a lot of what I got from this was learning to reframe things. Time I spent editing videos or baking a cake was still time well spent, was still working towards my goal of something better for myself, whatever that is.

That said, autoplay podcasts combined with monotonous cleaning tasks meant that 20-minute cleaning sessions always became longer. I am not great at stopping a task part way through. Some of it is not knowing when I will get back to it (time issues, again), not having the space to leave it out (unless it is my laundry, because that is the exception for some damn reason), and some anxiety related to leaving something unfinished. So I often kept working, long past the end of a podcast episode. Only using the sleep timer stopped me from going until I finished whatever I was doing, and even then, sometimes I would just keep going.

Time is my main enemy.

My final thoughts are that it was easier to be motivated to clean this month than other months. Laundry is the modern Sisyphean task, and dried beans are a nightmare to rehydrate, nevermind use. I have zero respect for timers, and I change goals, which is fine as long as I respect myself when I do.

#naclyoho #final thoughts

[shesonlylittle]

since everyone was so great the last time around, I have another writing challenge! (again- no pressure if you don’t want to participate, but don't be afraid to post even if you aren't a fic writer :) write a blurb/share something you've already written about Lexi telling Fez she's pregnant....

Hey Anon! I don’t have the brain capacity to go full fic but please have the outline of how I would write it if I did have the capacity:

They have a few close calls while Lexi’s in college. She’s late, he’s panicking. Not because he doesn’t want kids with her, but because Lexi made this whole Ten Year Plan and he’s taking it very seriously. (She wrote it down, she means business.) Also, he’s already raised a kid and had to do it before he was ready— he doesn’t want that for Lexi.

So Fez plays it pretty close to the vest. Every time she’s late he’s like “we don’ gotta worry till we gotta worry, you feel? couple more days and you’ll take a test, it’ll say yes or it’ll say no. either way we’ll figure it out.” He thinks he’s playing it extremely cool. And he would be! If it weren’t for the fact that every time he gets too stoned or drunk he looks at her, goofy stupid happy, and says “you’d make such a good mom”.

He doesn’t remember. But she does. She remembers every time very distinctly.

So! When Lexi’s out of school and set up with her first steady writing gig maayyybe she gets a little more lax with condoms and birth control and Fez is very 🤔🤫🫡 about it like “I gotta assume she knows what she’s doing… oh captain my captain, you know? Cap says we’re hittin’ it raw tonight, that’s wassup.”

But it takes like… a while. Longer than Lexi thought it might. Which ends up being good because she has a good long while to adjust to the idea of it, to talk with Cassie about it, to want it for herself and not just for Fez, long enough to kind of forget about it and all of her anxiety about being a good parent.

And then she’s late again. She gathers Cassie and Rue and paces back and forth in the little apartment she shares with Fez, awaiting the results. Cassie’s elated, Rue’s dubious about being an auntie but she’s really happy for her friends.

I think Lexi telling Fez is super quiet though. He walks in the door a few hours later and she says she has a surprise. She walks him over to the bathroom, with her hands over his eyes. And she just lets him figure it out looking down at the stick that says ‘Pregnant’. (Okay she aaabsolutely went back to the CVS and splurged for the expensive test that just says it and takes it again so that Fez doesn’t have to figure out what the fuck the symbols on the little stick mean.)

The face journey he goes through. My god. Get this man somewhere to sit down, he’s having SUCH an experience. He’s weepy, he’s overwhelmed, he’s elated, he’s so scared because they have four months left in the Ten Year Plan before babies and he doesn’t know how much wiggle room she’s okay with.

But they talk it out quietly on the couch, over pizza and beer (non-alcoholic for Lexi).

They write the new Ten Year Plan together.

#anon asks answered #Fexi imagines

[runekeepershymnal]

Physical aspects of a dream life that is probably (certainly) not practically possible under capitalism without winning the lottery (either birth or the kind with the little pieces of paper) but which are not outside the realms of physics / current technology:

A house with an ADA fully accessible outbuilding with a bathroom, also ADA and fully accessible, with several UV enhanced air filter running. (My partner has OCD and a pretty significant fear of germs/contaminants)

Several functioning, self-cleaning litterboxes (who likes cleaning the litterbox?)

A house big enough for my partner and I to both have an office and a bedroom (we can’t share a bed due to my RLS, we keep different hours, he is an extremely light sleeper)

Ideally, a garage or shed for stinky crafts (gotta keep it ventilated)

A kitchen with counters big enough for a mixer and a multi-cooker to be on it at the same time (my joints are getting worse as I age and both are pretty heavy)

A greenhouse or sunroom (I would love to grow more of our own food, and while my spouse has light sensitivity issues, the cats love it, and I need to bask every now and then)

Enough space for raised garden beds (more growing some of own food)

Excellent, reliable wifi and power, preferably with some solar (we both telecommute and spend a lot of time communicating with friends far away)

Quiet, with trees, preferably set far enough away from neighbors so that we don’t have to hear each other (my spouse has misophonia)

A stream, a creek, a pond, a lake. Some body of water (we’ve had it before at rentals and apartments, and listening to spring peepers is a joy)

Good insurance (pet insurance, too - just another capitalist dystopia necessity when you’re disabled / crazy [I will describe myself however I want, fuck off], or just straight up mortal and human and capable of catching diseases)

Within a reasonable drive to either a city where I can actually work or a train station where I can do the same (I want to do something in academia or libraries or archives or museums or theater or a non-profit that actually helps people, or or or…)

Friends with either no or grown children, or access to childcare (we are not great with small kids, our pets are not good with kids, but we love our friends and family who do have kids)

A setup in the outbuilding where there can be video conferencing so that we can play RPGs either in person or with friends who can’t be there due to distance or disability - (we definitely get it on the disability side)

Enough money to pay our bills and set enough aside for an emergency (dreams should not include emergencies, but life is life and a contingency is a contingency)

Wardrobes large enough to embrace and explore the aesthetic side of our gender fuckery

Legal weed to help with chronic pain / anxiety issues

A way to protect ourselves and people we care about if things really go to shit

I’m privileged to have what we have. To be able to make rent, to not have bombs dropping on us, to be able to get access to some, if not all, of the healthcare I need most of the time. (Please don’t think that I’m ungrateful for what I’ve got, or that I’m not aware that there are people who aren’t even getting those basic needs met.) But despite all that, we are kind of isolated due to my spouse’s disabilities.

We’re coming to figure out some of our stuff later in life. He’s got one rare condition for which there isn’t currently any treatment, and that condition make it really difficult to go out and get treatment for the other ones. It makes it difficult and painful to go out or be away from our apartment most of the time. It wouldn’t be fair to ask other people to come to us all the time, especially if their disabilities and needs also limit where they can go and for how long, but having a place that was actually ours would make it easier for us to make it easier on them.

The more isolated we get, the harder it seems to be to break the cycle. So… I just wanted to write out the dream life that might make it better, or more possible, to break it.

#unrelated to fandom #dream life #disability #mental health #isolation #loneliness #relationships #asynchronous screw loose

[dreamy625]

This rockstar life - 3.10 Fragmented

Words: 2020

Content: Quite angsty, mentions of self-harm & OCD

-----------------------------

We made an agreement, early on, that it’s always okay to wake the other one if you have a nightmare or any other kind of middle-of-the-night freak out. Always. No matter what. I just could not bear the thought of him lying there alone and uncomforted after one of his horrible dreams. But I’m a terrible hypocrite because, when my anxiety runs wild at 3am, I try not to disturb him if he is, for once, sleeping peacefully. However still and silent I think I am though, somehow he always knows and I’ll hear a mumbled ‘c’mere’ as he pulls me to lie with my head on his chest and strokes my hair. 

-----------------------------

“Oh god. Third alarm. We really have to get up now.”

Steve, still resisting fully waking up, just grunts in response. Alice pokes him, which only results in an aggrieved squeak and him pulling the duvet over his head.

“Your car’s coming in 45 minutes.”

“Cancel it.” he growls.

“I’m supposed to be at work in an hour.”

“Call in sick.”

“I can’t. Not again. I’m running out of convincing ailments.”

“Tell them I’m sick and you have to look after me.”

“But you’re not sick.”

“Might be. I feel fucking horrible.”

Alice burrows down until she is face-to-face with her boyfriend. In the dim light filtering through the covers, she takes in the pale clammy skin and bloodshot eyes. 

“You don’t look great. Poor baby.” She wraps her arm around him.

“My head hurts.”

“Mine too. Why do we do this to ourselves?”

“Coping mechanism? So they tell me.”

Alice tightens her embrace. After a few moments of silence she says dreamily, “Sometimes I pretend our bed is just floating in the clouds. Just you and me, and the rest of the world has gone away. Nobody can get at us.”

Steve closes his eyes again. “Can we just stay here today?”

“Okay.”

-----------------------------

Sometimes he gets 'stuck'. He always has to do all the things the right number of times in the right order, but when his mind is really running away with him, he then doesn't believe he's done it correctly, and has to repeat it again and again. Everything has to be three times, but if he misses something, it has to be three times three. And then maybe three times more. And then again. Sometimes it helps if I count it through with him, and act as witness that he has in fact performed the ritual perfectly. He doesn’t trust himself, but he’ll believe me. I'm not sure how you're 'meant' to deal with someone who has these compulsions, probably not like that, but it does at least allow him to leave the bathroom. On bad days though, that’s not enough. One night I stood, arms wrapped around him from behind, as he went through the sink sequence over and over for an hour or more, tears of frustration running down his face but completely unable to break out of the loop. 

-----------------------------

“I hate everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone that isn’t you. All of humanity except pretty blond guitarists named Steve.”

-----------------------------

“No, I don’t understand what it’s like to be a rockstar. And to have that pressure and that weight on your… to have so many people looking at you and expecting… I can’t ever feel that. But you can tell me and I can try. And I do know what it’s like to never feel good enough, to always be the fuckup, to be pretending so hard you don’t know who you are any more and to… yeah…” she sighs, “never be able to explain why.”

Steve just grimaces and pours another slug of vodka into his glass.

“In fact, I think I’d find it stranger if you were totally well-adjusted about it. You were nineteen, working in a factory, and suddenly, boom, you’re on a stage in front of thousands of people. How could you have a brain that’s set up for that?”

“Everyone else seems to be fine with it. Joe’s happy as a pig in shit!”

“Yeah, but Joe’s… simpler than you. I don’t mean stupid. He just… doesn’t have your sensitivity. And, like, total tunnel vision. He just knows what he wants and goes for it full steam ahead, with the rest of you pulled along behind. He’s not introspective like you, he doesn’t stop to think about everything.” 

Steve doesn’t reply, just staring at his glass and turning it around and around on the tabletop. 

“Must be nice. To have self confidence like that. He must have some self-doubt, surely? But it doesn’t seem to stop him.”

“I wish I knew how he does it. How anybody does it.”

Alice shrugs. “If I knew I would tell you.”

-----------------------------

Steve, idly threading his fingers in and out of Alice’s while they sit reading, squished into the one armchair nearest the fireplace, suddenly stops. “What’s this?”

He pulls her arm into the light from the window, revealing the row of faint pale scars up her forearm, and a few redder, angry-looking, marks. 

Alice tries to pull the sleeve of her sweater down, but he won’t let go of her hand. “You know what they are. They’ve always been there.”

“I know, but…”

“The second time we… you kissed them… like Shirley Valentine.”

“But some of them look recent?”

“Yeah. But just little ones. Scratches. It barely counts.” She leans her head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. Really. Just… you know… turns out love doesn’t fix everything else.”

“No. They should put a warning on those soppy films.” He strokes her wrist gently with his thumb. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I wish I wouldn’t too.”

-----------------------------

“It’s too early to argue.”

“This is still the argument from last night. You just passed out before it was finished.”

Steve pulls the pillow over his face. “You’re right. Whatever it was about. You win. Just for god’s sake woman, let me sleep.”

-----------------------------

The unfamiliar sound of tinkly new age music draws Steve to the livingroom, where he finds Alice sitting cross-legged on the floor. Ah, a meditation session, the latest prescription from Dr Garrison. The effort of trying to calm her thoughts has creased her brow with a tiny frown. He tiptoes silently across the room and squats down beside her. The corner of her mouth turns up as she senses him there, but she keeps her eyes closed. Reaching his hand up to the back of her head, he places a gentle kiss on her forehead before standing and creeping away.

-----------------------------

“Why is she here again?”

“Dunno. He just said he couldn’t leave her at home.”

“No girls in the studio; we made that rule for a reason.”

Phil shrugged. “They were already here when I got in, I wasn’t going to argue.”

Joe considers the couple over the rim of his cup. Alice is tucked under her boyfriend’s arm, all big bushbaby eyes staring into space. “She doesn’t look well.”

“Neither does Steve come to that.”

“He always looks like that on a Monday morning.”

Oblivious to being the topic of his bandmates’ muttered debate, Steve breaks off from scribbling on the sheet music in front of him and absently drops a kiss on the top of Alice’s head.

Joe sighs, “Oh all right. At least she’s quiet I suppose.”

-----------------------------

Steve slopes into the livingroom and drops down on the far end of the sofa with his arms folded.

“I still think I was right.”

“I still think I was right.”

There is silence while they both stare unseeing at the television.

“Do you still love me?” This sounds like a challenge.

“Yes. Of course.” she retorts crossly, still scowling at Newsnight. 

“Good. I love you too.”

“Fine.”

Another pause where neither one looks at the other.

“Bedtime?”

“Yup.”

Alice stands and holds out her hand.

-----------------------------

“You need to eat something that’s not coffee”

“You need to eat something that’s not vodka”

- Impasse -

-----------------------------

“Lissy?...Liiiiiis?”

A small voice, “Down here.”

Steve squats down and looks under the table. “Um, what are you doing under there?”

“Hiding.”

“Right. What from?”

“Everything.”

“Okay.”

“I don't think I was meant to be a human. I’m bad at… humaning.”

“What were you meant to be?”

She thinks for a while, “An aubergine?”

“Oh.”

Steve ducks further under the table and pats Alice’s shoulder tentatively. “It's okay, I'll look after you.” He pauses, eyes flicking from side to side, trying to think of something helpful, “I'll put you in a moussaka!”

“But I'm dairy intolerant.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Alice starts to laugh, and Steve does too. The laughter borders on hysterical and they lean into each other, shaking. Eventually, it subsides into just the occasional giggle. Steve puts his arm around Alice and pulls her against his shoulder. “Fucksake.”

-----------------------------

I’ve looked everywhere. All the usual places, all the pubs, even the ones he’s barred from, the pool hall, the cinema, that dodgy after-hours place behind the tube station. I’ve called Phil, I’ve called Malvin, I’ve called all the numbers scribbled on the pad next to the phone. I even asked that dealer he thinks I don’t know about. No one’s seen him, no one’s heard from him. That’s over twenty-four hours. He never does this. He always makes it home eventually, or someone brings him back, or someone calls me. There’s no Steve Clark on record at the hospital, and the police weren’t interested (they know him too well, said he’ll turn up when he sobers up). I’ve walked around and around and around. He should be easy to spot, all that blond hair, but it’s got dark again. And cold. Really cold. He just had his leather jacket when he went out, not a proper coat. 

Finally, thank gods, finally, a glimpse of that familiar hair. A hunched figure on a bench on the embankment, staring into the water. He doesn’t look up when I sit down beside him.

“Hi.”

He blinks. “Hi.” 

“Nice view.” 

It actually is - there’s an old bridge and it’s lit up all prettily at night. Steve tilts his head up to look at it for a few moments before returning his focus to the river.

“So, where have you been?” I try to make this neutral and not show how frantically worried I was. 

“I had to… get away… I couldn’t… explain.” His voice is croaky; I guess he hasn’t used it for a whole day.

“Right. Did it help?”

He puffs out a breath through his nose. “No, not really.”

“What was… what were you trying to get away from?”

A long pause, and then, “I’m scared… of what’s in my head.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Another pause. “I can’t.”

“Do you want to go home?”

He shakes his head.

“Do you want me to go?”

Another shake.

“Okay. We’ll… just sit here then?”

He nods. 

-----------------------------

There’s just nothing I can do. He’s surrounded by people who love him and have tried to help. If there was anything another person could do, they’d, we’d, have done it by now. I’ve thought and I’ve thought and the only thing, the ONLY thing, I can possibly do that maybe no one else can, is try and make him feel safe. 

Because he doesn’t believe in love, not really, not other people’s love. Or maybe believe is the wrong word; He doesn’t trust it. He wants to. He loves so intensely, so steadfastly, not just romantically but his family and friends. But he doesn’t think he’s lovable in return. So when he, inevitably, because he’s human, messes up, and he sees disappointment, anger, or pity, he thinks that’s it, they don’t love him anymore. 

So yeah, that’s the plan. Unconditional love. Not just feeling it, but showing it. So he knows,  however far he falls, he’ll always have a safety rope with me holding onto the other end of it. The flaw in the plan is that, well, I don’t think I’ve ever had that before either; I don’t know what it looks like. 

But it turns out it’s easy. I just have to mirror back the way he loves me. 

(January 1991)

#steve clark #steve clark fanfic #steve clark fanfiction #def leppard fanfic #def leppard fanfiction #this rockstar life fic

[hisdirtymutt]

02-16-24 Date 3

We spent Friday night and almost all of Saturday Day together. He's got the cutest puppy. Plus he's just so cute. So seeing them both together. Is oof. We had an amazing night Friday night. But all Saturday was pretty stressful. It's good to write about the good and the bad.

Friday night was the best anal of my life. He fucked my ass mercilessly like it was my pussy. And it was barely any pain. Omg his cock fits so perfectly in my ass. Like I was made to be his filthy mutt. And he woke up like every 3 hours to fuck me or make me suck his cock and it was hot. But I was really wiped and tired from all the play. But it was amazing.

Saturday started out stressful... We had gotten hot and heavy the night before and he had me go down on him and eat his ass. All amazing. But it was like a joint panic attack of us both being hella paranoid because my cold sore wasn't entirely gone. Like a red spot still. Even if mostly healed. And I don't wanna give him anything. We ended up taking a nice bath together to calm down. That was cute though. My Daddy is so fucking sexy and handsome and cute. Obviously biased. Fuck his body is sexy. He has a yummy cock. I love his tummy. And he has one of the cutest butts I've ever seen. Makes eating it so much better. 😈I hope we do foot worship soon.

The second thing was him giving me my first suppository. He wanted to turn me into his little stinker. And have more bathroom control power. No potty at Daddy's place. But it didn't set well with my stomach. Mainly because I kept trying to push and force it. But when I finally stopped it just happened so easily and naturally. But of course that was immediately when he put me in a new diaper. It's weird because I liked it. 😳🙈🤭 I want a redo. 😛

The third thing beyond the suppository not sitting well with my tummy. And the anxiety of the unknown of my first one is me having to call out. I did find it incredibly hot that since I was indecisive he chose for me. 🤭 He knew it was a limit I was okay with pushing and at least trying once. Now that I know what to expect there should be minimal or no anxiety with it. But anyways my tummy was hurting. I was dehydrated and dizzy and still had upset tummy. So I called out. Which won't happen again and he felt bad. And it wasn't ideal.

Fourth thing and the biggest thing was our first conflict sort of thing. And how we both handled it. But adhd brain wants to add that he peed on my clit in my diaper and made me cum twice and that was so hot. And last visit he peed in my diaper and had me wear it and that made me wet too. Anyways. Back to scheduled programming. Daddy ordered me to pee on his face. Well moreso not a force. And I froze up emotionally because I wasn't comfortable doing it but couldn't find the right words. And then I was gonna use the puppy pad. And I didn't know what I was doing. So it felt like he was disappointed in me and upset. It felt like he was kinda huffing off and angry after. By his body language. Even though he said was okay. So I thought he was upset and I upset him and he was upset about disappointment triggers too. It was a double land mine. I was emotionally shutting down a bit. He felt emotionally distant and almost cold. He wanted to get work done and not have an overnight anymore. But he was asking me what I wanted to do. And my headspace wasn't great. So we wasted a lot of time in conflict. Because I was in a bad headspace and wanted to go home because I thought staying would make it all worse. But because I was in a bad headspace due to the conflict and not wanting to end the night on a bad note I didn't feel okay to leave. It felt like a lose lose. If I went home my headspace wasn't great and had to deal with that alone. If I stayed then he would remain with extra stress over clean up and taking me home and not being able to be CG ish while he worked. Even though I was gonna nap or sleep and entertain myself. It was just a lot. It was very emotionally charged. We both could have done stuff different but importantly we got through it. We had time apart to process. And decided to keep moving. Even though my headspace was really hard to deal with for a while. I cried and reached out for emotional support and help. And I felt better.

I'm so excited for our journey. I love serving my Daddy.

[laniminchanlix]

~Forever together~

No warnings!!

Plot: bestfriends to lovers trope, minlix, fluff , vanilla, kissing.

Summary: Felix and Minho never knew of each other until Felix started taking the bus to school. There first meeting was kind of funny but as it goes on things started to take great turns. That’s until one day Minho leaves for awhile and Felix is lonely and misses him. He can’t get Minho out of his head for days. He doesn’t want to seem clingy so he doesn’t call or text much while he’s away. Felix started noticing his feelings for Minho when he left, he wanted to keep it a secret but secrets come out one way or another.

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I’ve always had social anxiety, I never went around big places, I avoided going out with my mother to the mall from the big crowds. If I did end up going out with her I would latch onto her arm the whole time never leaving her side unless I went to the fitting rooms to try something on. I always end up asking a friend to take me to school or I would walk to avoid taking the bus. I hate people they always for some reason weirded me out. Until my mom scolded me to start taking the bus because she doesn’t like me getting into cars with my friends cause she doesn’t know them. I argued with her saying I didn’t want to, but it wasn’t working NOT EVEN MY PUPPY DOG EYES, which usually work on her and everybody else if I want something. So I avoided the argument and decided I’ll take the bus, but I’m not letting a single soul sit next to me. When I first rode the bus I avoided everybody around me like they weren’t there, I put my earbuds in, set my bag in the empty space next to me so no one would sit next to me and enjoy the ride. I vape, my mom gets them for me and everybody knows that so they always text me to ask my mom to buy for them, but I always say no cause fuck that find your own person. I end up taking my vape with me to school so when I get stressed out I could just go to the bathroom and take couple hits then I’ll be fine. And that is how I met ‘him’ Minho also known as Lee know. I didn’t know a thing about him till I rode the bus to school, he was known as the supposedly “trouble-maker or the bad boy” of the school which is funny cause if they really knew he was nothing near those categories. He’s really just a big softy.

I woke up to my alarm blaring in my ears. I forgot to set my phone away from face but I ended up falling asleep watching dramas. I got up did. all the good stuff to get ready for school then headed to my mom to see her off for work. “Yongbok, how you feeling this morning?” She said turning to me smiling giving me a hug. “Mom, you know I don’t like that name, and I’m feeling alright.” I said rolling my eyes at her smiling softly. I grabbed my earbuds my and backpack, “come on mom, let me walk you out.” I said. She hurried and grabbed her purse and keys and we headed out the door. “Alright, have a good day sweetie AND! don’t get caught with that Felix.” She said playfully glaring at me. “How did yo-“ before I could get the sentence out she interrupted me rolling her eyes scoffing. “I’m not stupid yongbok, I was your age once now head down to the bus stop before your late!” She said lightly pushing me getting into the car. “YAH! I TOLD YOU STOP CALLING ME THAT!” I yelled at her as she drove off. I sigh putting my earbuds in heading down to the bus stop. It’s not that long of a wait honestly it’s about 15 to a 20 minute wait. I sat down at the curb waiting when I looked up I saw a boy with black fluffing hair with cat eyes walking across the road to the bus stop. That’s weird I never seen him wait here before. He walked over the the tree that about a couple ft from me and leaned against it waiting. I decided to just leave it alone and continue on what I usually do avoiding everybody. I looked up to see the bus was here so I got up behind the guy that was leaning against the tree, I lowkey did check him out but like not in a sexual way just kinda observing him, he’s wearing a pair of black jeans cut off on the knee parts, with a black tshirt with some band on it paired with a chain and a couple rings, he had a pair of black and white adidas on as well. I like his style it kinda suits his look anyways. Like I always do I walked to the back and sat down in my original spot sat down and set my bag next to me like always. I looked over to see he sat in the other seat next to mine, he looked over at my way but I hurried and looked out the window. Hopefully he didn’t notice my stare. I felt kinda stressed from all that so I took my vape in my sleeves and decided to take a couple hits, I glance around while hitting it to see if anybody was looking I look over at the guy next to me to see him staring at me grinning wickedly. It’s was actually kind of scary. After my last puff still staring at each other I slowly would blow the smoke out every second to be funny about it. He laughed a little and put his hand out. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He chuckled, he grabbed my bag then scooted next to me. I backed up a little from him getting close to me. “What flavor is it?” He asked. I just stared at him. “W-what?” I stuttered out blushing from embarrassment cause I stuttered. “Oh, umm it’s blue razz.” I said avoiding eye contact with him. “Nice.” He said leaning back into the seat getting comfortable looking forward nodding his head like he’s listening to a song. I just stared at him in confusion because why is he still here? What does he want? “Can I hit it?” He asked looking over at me putting his hand out. “I-uh I guess.” I said shrugging my shoulders putting the vape in his hand. “Minho.” He said taking a few hits then handing it back to me. “What?” I asked. “My name…Minho.” He said looking at me smiling. “Oh, I’m Felix.” I said smiling a little. Maybe I made a new friend.

Not long after we just clicked. We sat by each other everyday on the bus I figured out he lives like 4 minutes from me that’s why he’s at my bus stop as well. He showed up randomly at my house one day after school scaring the living shit out of me, but I got used to it at some point. After we clicked we became bestfriends, he would literally threaten anybody who tried to mess with me.

Me and my mother got a new place so it was kind of hard to hang out a lot but you know we found our ways. “Are you like ever gonna go home?” I asked chuckling, we were both sitting on the couch cuddled up in blankets with some popcorn and soda, we are watching the re runs of twilight, well I forced him to of course. I was cuddled up to his side and was talking nonstop about Jacob, he knows about me being gay but he never had a problem. He said he knew before I even told him which kind of embarrassed me that he could read me so quickly. But us cuddling is normal. It’s brotherly love….. I mean I think that’s what I feel for him. “Mmm, no.” He said smirking then pulling me closer to him popping another piece of popcorn in his mouth. My heart started to beat a lot faster than it normally should when he pulled me closer to him. What the fuck? I started to feel heat hit my cheeks and noticed I was blushing but I hurried up and put all that away and just snuggled into him watching the movie. “But why Jacob? I think jasper is pretty sexy.” He said. I looked at him then laughed loudly. “What?” He said chuckling a little while rolling his eyes. “We are not gonna get into the ‘whole who’s better looking’ in this movie, cause trust me you won’t win.” I said smirking getting prepared for this argument. “Oh really huh? Fine then well… let’s do thi-“ before he could finish his phone started ringing and it was his mom. “Hold on a second let me take this real quick.” He said kicking off the blanket going to the back door then going outside. I just sat back and continued on with the movie eating my buttered popcorn. He came back inside a few seconds later with a scowl on his face. “What’s wrong min?” I asked softly patting the spot next to me so he could explain what happened to me. We came up with nicknames for each other, mine is Lix or Lixie and his is Min or MinHoe. “It’s mom, she said I have to…move in with my dad.” He said sighing loudly leaning his head back in frustration. “Okay? So what’s the problem?” I asked confused pausing the movie sitting towards him sitting cross crossed putting my full attention on him. “That is the problem, he lives far.” He said sighing loudly again. I gulped in anxiousness. “How…far?” I asked in a slight whisper. “Pretty far it’s like 45 min to an hour away from here.” He said running his hands down his face out of frustration once again. “Oh.” Is all I could say looking down at my lap fiddling with my fingers. I bit down on my lip hard to hold back my tears. “Yeah I know it’s Stu- wait are you crying?” He said worriedly. “N-no.” I said in a whisper sniffling while wiping my eyes. But that was no use cause the tears kept flowing. My heart shattered to a million pieces just hearing about how far he’ll be from me. Because that means we won’t have time for each other at all like we used to. “Aww, Lixie come here.” He said his eyes softening from all the frustration, he now has gone. All his worries and attention is on me. Which is one of the things I love about him, that he would drop anything in a heartbeat for me. He grabbed me and pulled me into his chest hugging me tightly rocking us side to side. I sobbed into his shirt most likely soaking it, I fisted at his shirt squeezing it tightly pulling him tighter, and closer to me like he was gonna leave me forever. “I won’t get to see you much anymore.” I said sobbing quietly while he rubbed soothing circles on my back. “Lix, I promise you I will make all my time for you I don’t care how busy I am. You know that.” He said. “I know it’s just, your gonna be so far.” I said pulling away from him with bloated red tear stained cheeks and red puffed eyes. “I know.” He said tears forming in his eyes.

“But it’ll be okay, cause I’ll come and see you as much as I can, and try to call you as much as I can.” He said smiling. “Your right.” I said smiling back to him cuddling into him while he sang a soft melody to me. After that he moved, and we did call all the time like he said he tried to see me as much as he could like he said, but after awhile it died down, I was thinking of just calling him all the time but I didn’t want to seem clingy. He got a girlfriend which is understandable cause now he needs to find time for her. But why does it feel like a knife is being stabbed into my heart a million times? He’s my bestfriend I should be happy for him…. But I’m not, it hurts so bad to see them how they are, all flirty and lovey dovey with each other. It hurts so bad. I’m jealous… big time jealous. I didn’t know why I was being like this, until I finally came to the conclusion it’s because I’m in love with him. But of course I would never tell him that. It’s been a year or so since he’s been at my house, then all of a sudden after a week of no talking to each other he texted me one day.

MinHoe😈: hey can I come over….

Lixie pixie🧚: yeah sure!! Is everything okay??

MinHoe😈: yea… I just really need someone to talk to right now.

Lixie pixie🧚: yeah, just head on over here whenever!

MinHoe😈: okay I’m on my way rn.

Lixie pixie🧚: okay the front door is unlocked I’m in my room when you get here.

MinHoe😈: okay.

Something seemed off when he texted me like that cause he never texts me all depressed like that, so something is definitely fishy.

(Should I do a part two or no? Please telll meeeee. I ended it right here cause a bitch is tired lol 😂)

~Thank you for reading let me know if you want a part two to see what happens next.~

Our cutie patooties Minlix 🥰⬇️

#minlix #skz fluff #fluff #skz ships #skz au #best friends to lovers #school #cheating #lee felix #lee know #pure vanilla cookie #soft #softleeknow #social anxiety #shyfelix