#and was very stressed and ashamed to ask for help

[silenzahra]

Who’s your favourite character and why is it Luigi.

(Only correct answer, too bad so sad.)

Oooohhh I'm glad you asked me this question!!! 😁😁😁 I could totally share a lecture on why Luigi is the best character to ever exist, sooooo... I hope you realize that you've awaken the beast 😂😂😂

I don't like Luigi only because he's cute. He is cute, anyone who looks at him can see that, and I love it indeed, but my love for him goes beyond. He's also a kind and gentle person, always willing to help the others, and he's extremely sweet, especially with his loved ones (his bro, his bestie and his partner/s).

He's very supportive: if you ever need some self-confidence or a little push to encourage you to take the step of doing something, he's definitely gonna be there to show how he believes in you and to cheer on you during the process! 💪

He also has great emotional intelligence. That's something @kelbreyworshipper talked about on this post, and I honestly couldn't agree more. I love how he's always there to listen to his loved ones and offer the emotional support they need when they're feeling down, and this is something that's also seen in the movie. I love that side of him because it shows that emotions are very important for him and that he's never going to invalidate yours.

Also, he's so clumsy and anxious that he's very relatable to me! I'm clumsiness personified, and I've been living with anxiety for way too many years now, so I totally get how he feels. And, not gonna lie, it's kind of a relief to see there's more people out there who's going through the same stuff as me, especially being a very famous and loved character as Luigi. Makes me see that I'm not alone and that I'm not hard to love, and that I deserve to be loved just the way I am, like him 🥰

And also: social anxiety. Yikes, I get that too, as well as Luigi, so, again, another thing that makes him relatable! You see how awkward he gets in this post by @jell-o101? That, actually, is me 😅 And he can be so silly as well, like we saw in the movie. I'll never forget the phone scene with Spike 🤭

He's also very soft, for he gets emotional very easily, and is not ashamed to cry or to show his feelings in any way he can. That, I believe, is one of his biggest strengths, for not everyone is able to show themselves being vulnerable, or sad, or scared, and he has no shame nor regret to do so! I personally believe that's quite admirable!

And, of course, he's also strong in other ways! When he loves, he loves so hard and deeply that he'd do literally anything to keep his beloved ones safe and sound, and also happy and taken care of. Luigi is the kind of man that will be by your side in your lowest moments, but will also make sure to defend and protect you when needed. And it doesn't mean he doesn't believe in you: it means that he loves you so much that the protective instinct simply hits in.

This relates directly with his bravery. Many people to this day keep calling Luigi a coward, and it makes me mad because, like, are we talking about the same character? The one that got into a mansion full of ghosts, his biggest fear, to save his beloved big brother? The one that stood in the way of Bowser's fire with a manhole cover to, again, save his big brother's life? You call this cowardice??? 👇

Honestly, I'd like to see those people getting into a place full of the thing they fear the most, or facing fire after they've been about to die in a lava pit. If this isn't bravery in its pure form, I don't know what is 🤷‍���️

So yeah, Luigi is just as brave as Mario! He simply has a different way to deal with dangerous or stressful situations, but you can bet that, if his brother's life is in danger, he's gonna be the very first one to run to his aid. And the same applies to Peach, Daisy and basically anyone, since, as I said, he's always there to help anyone who needs it.

And I know the Paper Mario series is a spin off, but if I may add, I also LOVE how extremely sassy Paper Luigi can be! 😁 And also very brave, like in other games, and soooo supportive of his big brother!

That's also something that I love about him. Everything I've said about him always wanting to help, and to make sure that the ones he loves are fine, and playing the emotional support role? I especially MELT when this is applied to Mario. We all know the deep and pure bond these brothers share, and while Mario's way of showing his love for his little sibling is mostly protecting him (among other things), Luigi's way of doing so is mostly being by his brother's side, believing in him, supporting him no matter what, listening to him when Mario needs to vent... He's an AMAZING little brother and I LOVE how he openly shows that he loves his brother just as Mario does with him 🥹

And the same applies when it comes to his bravery and to his sassy side, for Luigi shows that he feels extremely comfortable around Mario, like he can totally and openly be himself, which he does in the scene that I mentioned with Spike. And also teasing Mario and being prone to physical touch with him as another way of showing his love 🤭

Also, the fact that he gets scared very easily also makes him relatable to me 🤭 Though I have to say, seeing the many dangerous situations these characters are exposed to in both games and movie, I personally think Luigi has the most normal and relatable reaction. I mean, I believe the first thing most of us would think of when seeing our lives threatened would be to run and get to safety, and then maybe try to come up with a plan or something.

Which is actually something Luigi is very good at! While Mario's reaction would be to jump into danger (and we love him for that), Luigi would rather get himself to safety first, trying his best to survive, and then find a strategy to deal with the problem. He's a think-first, act-later kind of man, unlike Mario, which is why the two balance each other so well. Those are their strengths and what make them work perfectly well as a team.

So this is it! I imagined this would get long, which is why I didn't get to answer yesterday when I saw the ask, and I'm sorry about that, but I really hope it was worth the wait, @luigi1o27632! 🥰

@vulpixfairy1985 @bberetd @itsavee4117 @keakruiser @kelbreyworshipper @peaches2217 and everyone who reads this: what do you think of all this? Is there anything you'd like to add? I may have forgotten about something, so feel free to share your thoughts! 🥰

To sum up: I may call Luigi "baby" sometimes when reblogging stuff or fangirling, but that's simply an affectionate nickname, since, as you can see, I know perfectly well he ain't no baby. He's strong and brave as well as cute and sweet (and very handsome too 🤭😏), and I love every single side of him 😌💚✨

#luigi #luigi my beloved #super mario #super mario bros #luigi nintendo #mario and luigi #luigi cuteness #cute luigi #strong luigi #brave luigi #handsome luigi #luigi appreciation post #asks #asks answered #silenzahra

[pedgito]

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: eddie's got a late night bone to pick with you; only one minor sexual inconvenience in the way, but that doesn't stop you from picking up his call and eddie doesn't want to hang up either.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), virgin!reader, phone sex, mutual masturbation, really talkative reader & eddie (these two never shut up), lots of dirty talk, small innocence!kink, mentions to reader's body (only compliments, no descriptions), if i missed anything pls let me know.

word count: 3.4k — part two, part three

The deep coiling heat undulated through your entire body, fingers curling inside you at an angle that wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. That dull ache digging at you, like an annoying itch you couldn’t scratch. It felt close, yet so far of that you couldn’t even reach it. You sighed harshly, eyes drifting close in hopes that maybe it would help—anything, just some peace and quiet, forcing your mind to focus on the feeling of your body and nothing else, finger dipping into your the slick wetness of your cunt, dragging up slowly toward your clit—yes, that helped. You breathed deep, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, that familiar tinge of want and pleasure radiating throughout your entire body, building, and building—-

The bloodcurdling ring of your phone cuts through the air, nestled in the corner of your bedside table. You’ve never wanted to smash something into pieces so much in your entire life.

Who the fuck could be calling at this time of night?

You yank the phone from its resting place, cord wrapping around your wrist in the process, but you couldn’t be bothered to fix it. You lean over the bed slightly, settled onto your side, before answer with a very clipped:

“What?”

“Who pissed you off, princess?” Eddie fucking Munson.

It never failed.

“If you keep talking, it’s going to be you.” You retort, still mildly aware of the hand tucked between your legs, not touching anymore, but hovering, waiting for this painful phone call to end.

“Harsh.” Eddie replies, feigning a weak implication of hurt in his tone. “I just wanted to let you know that you grabbed my dice by mistake after the campaign tonight.”

Fuck. You squeezed your eyes closed, tapping the speaker of the phone against your head in frustration. You had been so quick to rush out of there today, you didn’t even think, blindly grabbing your shit and hightailing it home.

“And I hate to make a big deal about it, but those are my lucky dice.” He points out. You can’t help the eye roll that escapes you, Eddie could practically hear it through the phone.

“And this couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” You ask impatiently. The man was wasting precious time, time that you would be spending doing something much more enjoyable. “I’m busy.”

It comes out, a Freudian slip. You could’ve just assure him you’d bring them in the morning and the conversation would be null and void, but no; now Eddie was intrigued.

“Busy? It’s midnight—what the hell could you be busy with right now?” He asks, attempting to compile a list of reasons but coming up with a big fat goose egg.

“Sleeping, Eddie.” You deadpan.

“You don’t sound like it.” Eddie says honestly. “Wait, were you—“

“Eddie!” You yell, a desperate attempt to stop where this conversation was headed—but Eddie, ever the persistent.

“Ha!” He laughs, seemingly clapping his hands together over the phone, “I knew you weren’t so innocent—all that bullshit about never being kissed and—“

“Ed-die,” You stress, begging him to tone down the teasing. It wasn’t that you felt ashamed, everything you’d told him was true. You hadn’t explored much outside of yourself—you know your body best and that was all that mattered. Why did you even need the help?

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes sincerely, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, really. If I had known, I would’ve just waited until tomorrow.”

“There’s no way you could’ve, dipshit.” Eddie snorts at the nickname, savoring the bite in your tone. “Besides, it helps me sleep.”

“Shit, me too.” He laughs softly and you can’t help but laugh either, though it only lasts a few seconds before you’re mentally shoving your hand over your mouth, begging your brain to process shit before it comes out of your mouth. “It’s not that easy, is it? Trying to concentrate and everything.”

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, wondering why he hadn’t just hung up the phone. But, he continues; you can’t help but listen.

“Not when I have meatheads like you bothering me,” You snark, the dull ache in your cunt still hadn’t settled, and you really hated yourself for your next move, but it was necessary.

Your finger rubs over your clit gently, slow enough that you can keep your composure, but allow just enough relief that it wasn’t bothering you as much.

“Not a meathead—That’s reserved for Jason and his band of assholes.” You could appreciate his mutual distaste, feeling bad for stacking him in with them.

“Sorry.” You meant it.

“It’s fine, princess.”

You’re so used to the term that it really shouldn’t bother you, it hardly ever does, but with your hands down your underwear, attempting to work yourself through a desperately needed orgasm, you couldn’t help but play it in your head, the sound of his voice, like a tape on repeat.

And this felt so wrong, but Eddie noticed your prolonged silence. He leans into it, nudging you further.

“Do you need help?” He asks innocently, his voice remaining it’s normal bravado, but you can feel the anticipation in the way he waits for your answer.

“With touching myself?” You ask boldly; what a night this was turning into. “I think I’m good on that.”

“No with, you know, getting there.” He says coyly and you can hear the should shrug through the phone, the way his head tilts to the side innocently. “I can help, if you want.”

“You wanna help me orgasm?” You ask, still gathering what little sanity you had left for the night. “Over the phone?”

“Sure,” He says easily. This didn’t feel real and maybe you were having some fucked up dream you’d wake up from any moment; another weird sex dream, albeit almost always involving your one particular friend, who just so happened to be on the other line offering up his services, selflessly, “but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

And why wouldn’t you be? Aside from the potential awkwardness of having to face Eddie at school after this, it didn’t seem like a terrible idea—and Eddie was never the type to shove a situation like this back in your face, he knew your boundaries. Plus, you’d kill him if he ever did.

“Okay,” You agree, voice hesitant. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Shit, okay.” He answers, half-expecting you to back out.

You doubled down, “I don’t have a lot of time, so make it quick.”

Quick. Eddie could do quick—except he’s never done this before and has no idea what to say or do, he was going in blind.

“Uh, well,” He laughs at the absurdity of the upcoming question, “what are you wearing?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, glancing over the outfit you were wearing. “Does it matter?”

“Not really,” He answers truthfully, “if it helps, I’m only in my boxerw—you know those ones you like to make fun of, they’re got the bats all over them.”

You laugh at the memory, Eddie bent over in front of you during Hellfire a few months back, moving some of the boxes full of theatre costumes since the group was forced to share a room and the other kids refused to put their stuff away properly. “How cute.” You'd told him and Eddie’s face burned a deep shade of red. He didn’t say anything, only pulling his pants up higher.

It was an interesting visual, you couldn’t lie. “Uh, I’m in my underwear, too—and a, uh, shirt.”

“Which one?” He asks curiously.

“Um, Hellfire, that black one. I think it's yours, actually.” Somehow that felt like the most scandalous part about all of this, being coached through your orgasm by not only your resident dungeon master, but someone who you consider a friend, “It’s nothing crazy, sorry.”

“No, no,” Eddie interrupts quickly, “That’s fine—are you—are you touching yourself, right now?”

Eddie’s free hand is resting over his boxers, palming at his growing bulge, not as satisfying as he wants it to be.

“Yeah,” You nod without thinking, feeling ridiculous after the fact, “For a while now.”

That slow, tantalizing pace you had on your clit wasn’t helping. You clear your throat, pressing harder. “You can touch yourself, too—if you want, I mean. I won’t mind.” Your face is hot with embarrassment, but it didn’t feel fair; he should be able to enjoy it too.

Eddie can feel his dick twitch against his hand, the idea of you having already been touching yourself before he even suggested anything; not that he had planned any of this, it was completely spur of the moment, but he couldn’t help himself now. “I am,” He replies after a beat, “I’m just touching myself over my boxers—kinda sucks, though.”

“Oh,” Your voice lilts, feeling that small tinge in your gut at the sight of Eddie holding his dick in his hands—you’ve never seen it before, nothing to compare it to or imagine, but still; you were picturing it, “Well, maybe you should actually touch yourself, you know? It only seems fair.”

Eddie exhales slowly, fingers shoving under the waistband of his boxers, taking hold of himself—it’s the first time he’s touched himself all week and he was in over his head, this was a terrible idea.

“God,” He sighs, falling back against his pillow, phone tucked firmly between his shoulder and ear, tugging gently at his shaft, “do you—you have anything you think about?”

“Not really,” You lie, “I just kinda—do it.” You lie again.

Eddie laughs softly, the soft sounds of his creaking bed frame were faint, but you could still hear them. It was the only thing you could think about; Eddie spread out, hands down the front of his boxers, tugging at his dick like his life depended on it.

You circle your clit absently, finger sliding down to dip inside of you. You mewl softly, letting the sound pass through your lips.

“What about you, Eddie?” And it shocks you, realizing it’s the first time you’ve said his name since you’ve started this dangerous back and forth. It comes out broken, wrapped snugly in that blissful pleasure you were trying to reach and Eddie hears it—the curse under his breath a telltale sign that he was just as wound up as you.

“Got a lot, too much to describe—never as good as the real thing, you know,” Eddie says absently, his hand an insistent tug at his cock, swelling to full hardness in his hands. He wipes the pad of his thumb over the slit, the small bit of precum helping ease the slide down, “there’s so much you’re missing out on, princess.”

Your virginity was never a main topic of conversation and Eddie didn’t make it a big deal either, but he knows how inexperienced you are outside of your own body; he wants you to enjoy it, wants you to experience how good it can feel.

“Wanna tell me about it?” You ask innocently, the pitch of your voice picking up on a certain stroke of your finger, palm dragging against your clit.

“I can’t speak for women, but for men—it’s pretty fucking good,” He starts, occasional gasps peaking through his voice, “it’s warm and wet and really tight, sometimes when they squeeze down on us—uh, it’s good. So fucking good.” Eddie tries not to sound too crass or dirty, afraid it might scare you away.

You laugh softly, his unique way of describing things never fails to surprise you, “What’s your favorite? You like when—when girls go down on you?” It’s really just curiosity, your mind racing through a million different thoughts.

Eddie huffs out a small chuckle, stopping to—what you could only guess—spit on his hand, and that had you clenching around your own fingers. It felt primal, in a way. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s good. But I, uh, like going down on a girl more—I got off once to it.”

And it shouldn't turn you on as much as it did, but goddamn if you weren't interested in hearing all about that. All common sense out of the window, you ask, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his voice still unnaturally calm, “I was younger, but it was nice—she made all these noises, pulled my hair too hard—I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did, but then she came while I still going down on her and it just happened.”

You sigh softly, “I’ve always wondered what it felt like,” You admit openly, “something other than my hand, it’s gotta be good, right?”

“You’ve really never done anything?” Eddie asks hesitantly—it didn’t feel judgmental, Eddie was curious; half leaning toward delirious from his sleep-deprived state.

“Never even kissed anyone, Eddie.” You say regretfully, hand stopping for a moment. “But, I’m not clueless—I’ve just never had any first hand experience.

There was a long pause, your breath catching in your throat. You can hear him on the other line, but it’s muffled. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He sounds a little breathless, “I was getting ahead of myself, had to slow down a bit—“

“Oh.” It’s small, feeble in the way you answer him.

“You still touching yourself?”

You nod again, feeling ridiculous. “Yeah—I am. I can’t focus, though—that’s been my problem all night.”

A problem that Eddie had just the remedy for.

“Do you trust me?” He asks and your answer is instant, not a single worry in your mind.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Close your eyes,” You take a small breath, letting your eyelids fall shut, “Tell me what feels the best.”

You breathe, allowing the fear of embarrassment shed from your body, losing yourself in the conversation fully. “Uh, fingers help a little—but, this is hard to do with one hand, I usually have two, that way I can cover all my bases.”

Eddie snorts at that, a smile spread across his face. “Just squeeze the phone against your shoulder,” You quickly maneuver it, shoved properly up by your ear, allowing your other hand to reach down and touch your clit properly, fingers an inconsistent rhythm as they pump into you, still, you can’t stifle the needy moan that slips out.

“Okay,” You sound shaky, “That’s—that’s a lot better.”

You feel like it’s going to be too bold of a question and Eddie would run away immediately, but you’re too fucking curious not to ask, since he was literally jerking off on the other end—it seemed like a perfectly fair question to ask.

“Do you—What do girls usually say about—you?” It was the worst way to approach the question, but Eddie isn’t too bad at realizing the context.

“Are you asking what my dick looks like?”

He couldn’t believe this shit was happening.

“Yeah, maybe.” You answer sheepishly, “Like I said, nothing to compare.”

Eddie grins, eyes scanning over his own dick briefly.

“Uh, it’s about eight inches, give or take.” He offers, “You could definitely fit both of your hands around it, if you tried.”

There’s a beat of silence, Eddie feeling like he fucked up—it slipped out, it wasn’t a suggestion; not the he didn’t want your hands around his dick, he’d be lying if he said that out loud.

You give a small noise of acknowledgment, feeling the heat coil in your stomach—surely you weren’t thinking about Eddie’s dick. But, of course you were. “Maybe we’ll have to try that out.” You say boldly, hoping that it would elicit some type of reaction from him.

“Fuck,” It definitely worked, “Yeah—yeah, maybe we could—I could even—even, go down on you, if you wanted.” He's too worked up, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

“Yeah?” You breath, followed by a small moan from the drag of your slick covered finger over your sensitive clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves impatiently. “Think I could make you come?”

“With those pretty little noises?” Eddie asks redundantly, “I’m a fucking goner.”

You laugh softly, choked out by the sound of your own desperate noises, the pace on your clit picking up, fingers moving on their own accord. You can’t even focus on the fingers inside of you anymore, moving a free hand toward your breasts, still slicked fingers catching against the soft bud of your nipple.

Eddie strokes himself faster, recklessly almost. He groans so loudly into the speaker that you almost lose it, phone slipping away from your ear.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Eddie asks, hazy from the grip he had at the base of his dick, desperate to keep from coming. His entire shtick was to help you, not himself; but he was failing miserably.

“Sorry, I almost dropped the phone.”

“Oh.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his voice.

“Shut up,” You exhale, returning yourself to the task at hand; regardless of Eddie’s smugness. “Thought you were supposed to make me come, not tease me all night.”

“Help you,” He corrects, “Not make you—though, I mean—that’s not totally off the table.”

“Eddie.” You warn.

“Right—I guess it’s not hard for me,” Eddie starts again, voice thick with want and tension, “All I have to do is think about you with your hands between your legs and those tits—god, they’re probably perfect, I haven’t seen them, but I know. I know.”

It was like he’d dialed everything up to ten, not bothering to hold back any longer, the pleasure taking away any filter he had.

He was thinking about you, of course—it made sense, but it didn’t snuff the pulse that grew between your legs, only making it much, much worse. Whatever line was drawn was crossed the moment you agreed to this, all bets were off.

“Wish it was your hands instead,” You respond wantonly, the pad of your finger rubbing quick, small circles against your clit, “they’re so much bigger than mine.”

You gasp, gripping desperately at the sheets beneath you, no doubt having soaked through the cover already from how wet you were, it was unlike anything you’ve felt before—it was better.

“Forget my hands—can’t get the sight of you sinking down onto my dick out of my head,” He admits earnestly, groaning through the quick tugs on his shaft, his tip leaking with a copious amount of precum, bring his hand back down to squeeze at the base. Eddie has never edged himself like this before, it was almost painful. Almost.

“I don’t think it’ll fit, Eddie.” The moan he lets out is loud, guttural—the sound of skin against skin louder than ever through the speaker, he’s close. “Is that what you want? To be my first?”

“Fuckfuck—yeah, I do.”

You can’t even think anymore, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

“Want you to ruin me, Eddie.”

He’s past the point of trying to keep himself quiet, openly moaning through the receiver, “Fuck—say my name again, please.”

And you do; again and again, your cunt spasming underneath your hand, reaching the precipice of what you had been dying for all night, his name a plea as it cut off into a desperate moan.

“Shit—I’m so close—.” Eddie growls lowly, his high hitting him almost immediately after, coming all over his chest and his sheets in shirt spurts, tugging harshly at his dick.

He’s never come so hard in his life.

“You’ve gotten a fucking mouth on you.” He says breathlessly, on the way down from his orgasm. “Would’ve never guessed.”

You smile warmly, hand slipping out of your underwear to rest against your stomach.

“You tell anyone and you’re dead,” You chide playfully, the beautiful feeling of sleep creeping up on you, “but thank you, Eddie, seriously.”

“Always at your service, princess.”

You laugh through your nose, the realization of your actions finally settling in. It didn’t feel wrong, but it didn’t feel right, either—though, you couldn’t be bothered to care now; all bets were off.

“I’m holding you to that, Munson.”

Eddie shrugs on the other end, unbeknownst to you. He wiped at the mess he’d made with his shirt, tossing it to the floor lazily. “So, not a one time thing then?” He asks hopefully.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

A pause, Eddie clears his throat.

"I still want my dice, by the way."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #my writing #1kfic #5kfic

[jakexneytiri]

Same anon asking for more dad!neteyam x reader + babies - can we have them learning about their mom being pregnant again and learning about having a new sibling. Or maybe hunting lessons with grandma and grandpa. Whichever one inspires you!

how about both! well, sorta. i’m gonna post what i have written for this so far, and if you are all interested in the fishing scene, i’ll post that too :) thank you for all of your support!! 🥰

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

morning sickness wasn’t something you were fond of. it had you up in the early hours of the morning, doubled over with a carved wooden bowl in your hands. the remnants of some bladder polyps you had neteyam fetch in the middle of the night had made their way up your throat and into the bowl. “i’m never eating another one of those again.” you thought to yourself, trying to focus on anything besides the slimy, green goop in the bowl in front of you.

neteyam was sound asleep for a couple hours, but the sound of your heaving woke him up instantly.

“my love?” he questions, sitting up beside you as his large hand runs down the length of your spine. “why did you not wake me sooner?” as he rises to his feet, he grabs the bowl from you, heading outside your marui to discard its current contents.

“oh, i’m sorry, i was a little busy ridding my body of my late night snack. i don’t think our little one likes bladder polyps very much.” you reply in a snarky tone, laying back down to curl up on your sleeping mat in a fetal position.

neteyam sighs, as he grabs a bowl of fresh water for you to sip on. he carefully hands it to you, settling next to you.

“no more bladder polyps, then.” he nods, gently rubbing your back again. a few moments of silence pass, before his ears perk up at the sounds of your sniffling. he sits up immediately, tugging at your shoulder to examine your face.

“why are you crying?” confusion is plastered all over neteyam’s face, searching for the reason you’re so upset.

“i don’t want the children to see me like this. i have no appetite, and they wanted me to take them hunting today, and i-” you cry out, throwing your arms around your mate as you sob into his bare chest.

“shhh, shhhhh. it is all right, my love. do not worry. i will page for my mother and father to take them hunting. they’ll love to spend time with them today. do you want me to call for them now?” neteyam glances outside through the open flap of your marui, knowing it’s a bit early, even for village life to start.

you nod into his chest, sniffling hard as you cling to him. “yes….please. before the children wake.”

“shhh.” his large hand brushes over your hair, smoothing it gently. “i’ll send for them now.”

neteyam raises his other hand to his throat comm, and with a click of a button, you can hear your father in law’s voice through your mate’s earpiece.

“son, clearly someone must be sick, injured, or dying for you to be paging me this early in the goddamn morning. which is it?” jake snaps, though his voice has a tinge of grogginess to it. he was never a morning person as a human, and it certainly didn’t change when he became na’vi.

you hated to interrupt your in laws, especially when he was your olo’eyktan, with his own duties to tend to. your ears pin back against your skull as you bow your head, ashamed.

“dad, it’s y/n. she’s not feeling well. this….pregnancy is taking a toll on her.”

“ah, shit.” jake grumbles on the other line, and you can envision him rubbing his hand over his face, as he does when he’s stressed. “she okay now? want me to send your mother over to help?” jake’s voice has a tinge of worry to it as you hear your mother in law’s voice speaking to jake, mumbling something you can’t make out.

“actually, i was hoping you and mom would be able to watch the children for a bit. they wanted y/n to take them hunting today, but i think that’s out of the question for her. at least until she’s better.” neteyam continues to run his hand along your hair, trying his best to calm you as he speaks with his father.

“give us fifteen and we’ll be over soon.” the line clicks, and you’re left with the guilty conscience of your in-laws covering for you. again.

“they will be here soon. do you want to try drinking more water?” neteyam asks gently, still cradling you in his arms.

you sigh, sitting up to shake your head. “it’s not right, nete. i cannot ask this of them. they have their own duties to tend to, it’s wrong of me to-”

neteyam cuts you off right then and there. “-yawne, you do know they are their own person, capable of making their own decisions. my mother and father adore you, and they are more than happy to help. our family is more important to them than their daily village tasks. you know they’ll take any excuse to see the children. they love them. now please, don’t fret. they’ll be over soo-”

neteyam’s voice is drowned out by a shriek from your youngest daughter.

“GWANDPA!!!” nima squeals, running over to the front of your marui where jake and neytiri now stand.

“shhhh, shhhh babygirl! you’re gonna wake the whole village.” jake chuckles lightly, taking a knee to open his arms wide for her.

nima runs straight into them, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and kissing the tip of his nose. “why hewe, gwandpa?” she asks, confused as to why her grandparents were here so early in the morning.

“no way! grandpa and gramma are here!!” txonuk says happily, nudging se’ayl and tsantu awake.

“we’re takin’ you guys on a little huntin’ trip today.” jake explains, as neytiri kneels down to hug se’ayl, txonuk, and tsantu.

“but, i thought momma was taking us?” txonuk says, confused as he glances over to the drape that closes off the space where you and neteyam sleep during the night.

“your sa’nu [mommy] needs to rest. she is not feeling well.” neytiri gently explains to them, as neteyam slips through the drape.

“thank you for coming.” he says quietly, walking over to give his mother a hug, and his father a handshake.

“dad? is momma okay?” txonuk asks, tugging on neteyam’s loincloth.

“mama will be fine, don’t you worry about her, okay? come, let’s get your bows.” neteyam suggests, as jake and neytiri walk with him to where the bows are stored.

“which one’s yours, nima baby? is it……this one?” jake asks, holding up your bow.

nima bursts in a fit of giggles, thinking grandpa’s the funniest na’vi she’s ever met. “noooooooooo, gwandpa! that’s mama’s! you siwwy.”

jake chuckles and sets your bow back in its place. “is ittt…..this one?” jake holds up txonuk’s bow now.

“nooooooo! that ‘nuk’s bow!” nima giggles a bit more, shaking her head no multiple times.

“hey! that’s my bow, grandpa!” txonuk says, pointing to nima’s mini bow hanging up toward the end of the wall. “this one’s nimas!”

jake chuckles again as he hands txonuk his bow, rustling his curls before grabbing nima’s bow. “this one’s yours?”

“yea, yea!” nima says happily, taking the bow and holding it to her chest tightly, hugging the object.

“come, children. we must head out now, this is when payoang [fish] are most active.” neytiri urges, gently guiding them to the front of the marui.

“here nima, go to daddy for a sec. i’m gonna check on your mama, okay?” jake says, handing her off to neteyam.

“daddyyy!” nima says happily, playing with the beads on his necklace.

neteyam chuckles at this, kissing the top of her forehead gently. “good morning, nima baby.”

inside, jake makes his way over to your closed off bedroom sheet, stopping just outside of it. “babygirl? you decent in there?”

your eyes flutter open, glancing at the shadow cast on your bedroom sheet. “dad?….come in.” you croak softly, clearing your throat.

jake pulls the sheet back, slipping inside as he kneels beside you. he takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently over the top of your hand. his eyebrows push together in concern as he sees the current state you’re in. “jesus, kid. you look terrible.”

you let out a soft laugh, looking down at his hands as you shake your head. “gee, thanks, dad.”

“i’m not sayin’ it to be funny, sweetheart. we need to get you some help. d’you want me to call for mo’at?” he asks, concern laced in his voice as his thumb still strokes the top of your hand gently.

your eyes water at this, unable to control your hormones. tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at your father in law, defeated. “it’s been so hard. i don’t know why this pregnancy has been so difficult, but it is. i don’t want to worry neteyam, but….i’m worried.”

“shhh, shhhh. there’s no need for that. worryin’ doesn’t do anyone any good.” jake starts to say, as neytiri pulls back the sheet now.

“oh, my sweet child…” she says gently, kneeling on the other side of your sleeping mat. “how are you feeling?”

you can only answer with a sob, turning into your pillow as you cry. “it hasn’t been easy.” you cry out, as neytiri holds your other hand.

jake and neytiri both exchange a worried glance, before looking back down at you.

“i will call for mother. she will bring the right ‘umtsa [medicine] for you.” neytiri reassures you, wiping your tears away with her other hand.

“thank you…both of you, truly…..i feel terrible for waking you up so early-” jake shakes his head and cuts your sentence short.

“don’t you dare apologize, babygirl. you’re sick. we need you to get better, and that’s our top priority, okay? nothing else is more important.”

neytiri nods in agreement, squeezing your hand gently. “ma ‘ite [my daughter], please, rest. we will take care of the children, do not worry.”

jake leans in to place a gentle kiss to your forehead, as neytiri follows suit. neytiri even fluffs your pillow for you, squeezing your hand one last time before they both rise to their feet, giving you one last look.

“promise me you’ll rest up, kid? you need it.” jake asks, squeezing neytiri’s hand gently as they look over your sleeping mat.

your lower lip trembles as you nod. “i promise, dad.”

jake and neytiri head out of your marui, as jake scoops nima up in his arms. “ready to go hunt, babygirl?”

“wes, wes!!” nima says excitedly, plucking the string of her bow.

neytiri squeezes neteyam’s arm gently, halting him from heading back inside. “neteyam. i called for my mother, she will bring ‘umtsa. make sure y/n takes it. it will help.”

“thank you, mother.” neteyam nods, before giving his children one last look. “have fun with grandma and grandpa, my little ones.”

all four of his children wave back to him, as neteyam slips through the marui opening, lacing it shut before making his way back to you. his strong arms wrap around you, gently rubbing your arm as he holds you.

sleep comes to you eventually, after what seems like hours of dozing off. you’re grateful that jake and neytiri are able to take your children hunting, plus it gives them a chance to spend time with their grandchildren. you can only hope that they’re behaving for them.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

#neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x na’vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #dad!neteyam #dad neteyam #dad! neteyam #grandpa!jake #grandpa jake sully #grandpa! jake sully #grandma!neytiri #grandma! neytiri sully #tsantu sully #se’ayl sully #txonuk sully #nima sully

[c0eu4]

CL16 | Depress girlfriend ☁︎

Summary: Charles comes back to his shared house after three weeks of intense race. But the thing he didn't expect is to find her girlfriend having a relapse.

Warning: Fluff, depression, hurt/comfort

A/N: Here, we talk about depression and some things that it creates : lack of hygiene, not taking care of yourself..

MASTERLIST requests are open

Depression, that thing that destroys life.

She's under the covers, the rain is hitting the living room windows and her eyes are heavy. Her legs hurt and her stomach growls.

She would scare anyone. Her eyes are red from tears, her lips irritated, her hair messy and dirty. Anyway. She's depressed.

The door of her apartment opens, and she knows it's her favorite Monegasque.

He opens the shutters and sits next to her, giving her a big hug.

''Have you relapsed?'' He asked, softly to not fear her. His hands moving up and down in her back and hair.

She doesn't answer and puts her forehead against his shoulder. She feels tears coming back in her eyes and cry, again. She sob uncontrollably, her body shaking and releasing all the stress she accumulated during the few weeks ago.

His grip around her gets tighter and he puts his cheeks against her hair, knowing that he just has to wait to let her calm down. He keeps rubbing her back until she finally manages to cry less. She separates from him, keeping her head down and can't even look at him in the eyes.

''I-I'm- sorry..'' She said with a weak and shaky voice. Charles put his hand on her cheek, lifting her head up.

''Mon amour.. There is nothing to be sorry about..'' She restarted to cry like a little baby. Charles kissed her tears until they finally stop.

''Have you taken your medicines princess?'' He asked her, trying to not put pressure on her.

She shakes her head as a no. His eyebrow frowned.

''Why bébé ? Talk to me please..'' He stoked her hair with his right hand, keeping his left hand on her cheek.

''I-I..'' She gibberish, tears coming back in her eyes.

''It's ok.. take your time..'' He tries to reassure her and make her talk to him. He hates to see her like that. Since she no longer takes her anti-depressants, she sometimes has days when she feels low. But this time, it's a big relapse. Especially since Charles wasn't there for her because of his three intensive weeks of racing.

She takes her time like he said, taking deeps breaths to calm herself down.

''The reason is stupid..'' She finally managed to say.

''Nothing is stupid when we talk about your mental health chérie.'' He stokes her cheek with his thumb.

''I.. uhm.. It's just that... I had a lot of homework to do and I was lost.. you weren't there to help me and it was like.. I was just incapable of doing my homework.. And I got a very bad grade... then another one... And here I am now..'' She said, trying to not sob again.

He kissed her forehead.

''It's ok chérie. It happens to have some bad grades.''

He retakes her in a comfortable hug and strokes her hair.

''When was the last time you ate ?''

She takes a little time to answer him.

''Maybe two or three days.''

His eyes widened and he put his hands on her shoulders, pulling him back from the hug.

''This is really bad y/n.'' His voice was more firm than he expected. She immediately cried again, looking at the ground, ashamed.

''I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...''

He takes her again in his warm arms, whispering sweet words to her ear.

''No no no no, don't cry chaton.. It's ok.. You know what ? I'm going to carry you to the kitchen and make you a delicious dinner, ok ?''

She nodded against his shoulder, feeling one of his arms going under her knees to lift her up from the couch. She moaned slightly in pain because of her weakness, her whole body hurting.

He walked her to the kitchen, making her sit on a chair, in front of the wooden table. She looks at him making some pasta, her eyes heavy and half closed.

''Mon amour, don't sleep, you need to eat.''

She keeps her eyes open. Charles talked to her the whole time he was doing the pasta, to keep her awake. He knows how much she usually likes his voice and his french accent. Especially when he was talking directly to her. He talked to her about his weeks. When him and Carlos went to paddle, when he was doing his track walk, all the fans he met...

After about twenty minutes, he placed a plate in front of you, full of pasta with tomato sauce. He gives you a fork and a spoon. He put a glass full of water up to your plate.

''Try to drink a bit before eating.'' He sits in front of you with his own plate full of pasta.

She took the glass and slowly drank the water, her throat hurting her.

She caught and started to eat her pasta, Charles looking at her with love in his eyes. Even when she was at her lower, when she was looking like a zombie, when her hair was dirty and messy, when her lips weren't healthy, he was still loving her.

They eat together, slowly. She feels her empty stomach full of food and it makes her feel better.

After their little dinner, he takes her to the bathroom. He undresses her, with her consent, like if she was a little child. He undresses himself and makes her sit in the bathtub filled with warm water. He sits behind her, her back against his chest. He keeps her close to him, stroking her waist and thighs. He helped her to wash her body and her hair.

When they were done with the shower, he dried her hair with a dryer and braid it. He brings her underwear, a short and one of his hoodies, her favorite one. She put everything on, without help this time, feeling already a bit stronger than this morning.

He carried her with his big arms on his shoulder, making her giggle and chuckle. He was so happy to hear her little laugh after so much time away from her. He put her down in their bed, laying next to her. She quickly hugged him and he hugged her back, his hands stoking her back. She bury her nose in his neck, smelling his scent.

''Good night mon chat.'' He kissed the top of her head, nuzzled his nose in her hair.

''Good night Charlie.'' She kissed his neck with a warm and wet kiss and quickly fell asleep in the arms of her lover.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 drivers #charles leclerc f1 #formula one #help he's so cute #Charles Leclerc fluff #fluff #fluff fanfiction

[pupyuj]

YUJIN WITH AN UNNIE KINK 👹

OHHH 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 this ask was sent a while back but i had some time to think about it and yeah… YEAHHH…

yujin knows everyone thinks she’s an idiot despite having this big position as the leader so when she comes across the starry-eyed starship trainee (whose favorite idol happens to be yujin) (y/n)… well, she became obsessed! 🥰

you kinda-sorta took over as the leader of the trainees in starship when gaeul debuted so you had this aura of level-headedness and maturity in you.. but that all evaporates into nothing when yujin was in your vicinity! you had such an absurd amount of respect for her and you made it known every other time you and yujin would bump into each other in the company building and chat for a bit! you were so nice and friendly and so adorable 🥺 but you practically worshipped the ground yujin walked on… so yujin knew you were messed up deep inside your head… and all she needs to do is bring that beast out in the only way her perverted ass knew how!

offering to help you with your practice and your routines every time she so happens to pass by your favourite dance room in the building… her touches getting more and more bold as time went on but you didn’t really care to, well, care bcs yujinnie was just helping you out, right?? so what if she was basically groping your ass! 😵‍💫 god, you were so easy to manipulate it almost made yujin mad but at least it’s a fact that you’ll only be an idiot for her 🫣 to everyone else you’d be the same old reliable (y/n) who’s very serious about making her dreams come true someday but when it comes it yujin… well, you were nothing until she makes you into something, is what she decided!

how could she not try to break you down, anyway? your sweet voice calling out to her every time she was around was enough to get her panties soaked and she wasn’t even joking!

“good afternoon, yujin-unnie!”

“yujin-unnie, i saw your recent performance! you were amazing.”

“yujin-unnie, i thought you looked gorgeous in that last photoshoot you did!”

‘unnie’ is what really gets her though 😵‍💫 lots of people call her ‘unnie’ now but something about you, specifically, saying it just does something to her brain… and it was nothing good! fuck, she’d jokingly film a short vlog with you to showcase your daily trainee life and she’d fuck herself while listening to your voice… she’s that obsessed 😳😳 see she’d have this great elaborate plan to turn you into her little slutty doll but you’d unfortunately catch her on a bad day one day and suddenly you’d find herself alone with her on a small, empty room in the building and she’s sitting on a chair while you’re on her lap, sobbing and crying from both pleasure and pain while your favourite unnie fucks your cunt relentlessly 😔

your confusion regarding the situation wasn’t helping either… it turned yujin on how confused and embarrassed and ashamed you were… holding her face close to your chest, hugging her while she took out all of her stress on you… “always knew you’d be so willing to do this… you love unnie that much, don’t you, baby?” she’d ask, grinning up at you just to see you blushing and nodding your head bcs as much as you hated this, it was true! your admiration towards yujin was never completely innocent, so you couldn’t resist all this… why would you anyway? this was one of your biggest dreams aside from debuting.

yujinnie moaning with you while you came… not even letting you catch your breath before she was laying you down on the floor and fucking you again… this time faster and harder bcs that string of “unnie”s that you let out just for her was too fucking addicting 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 she’d fuck you until you were nearly all spent, laying on the floor holding onto only the tiniest bit of your consciousness before yujin takes your hands and pulls you up… letting you see how she’s stripped herself of her pants and underwear and has taken a seat back on the chair… spreading her legs wide open and beckoning you over… 😳

“come on… don’t keep unnie waiting any longer.”

oh, how you worked that tongued on her cunt…you know what? yujin can say that you were the best risk she’s ever taken 🤭🤭

#ive smut #ive x fem reader #ive x reader #ive imagines #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x fem reader #ahn yujin imagines #yujin smut #yujin x reader #yujin x fem reader #yujin imagines #girl group smut #girl group x reader #girl group x fem reader #girl group imagines

[michelle-is-writing]

Welcome Home, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.7k~

When Spencer returned home from a long case, he sometimes had to ask himself whether or not he was truly helping people. Yes, his job did involve saving victims and keeping criminals behind bars, but was it all worth it? Did the good outweigh all of the bad? Or was it the opposite, and his job really wasn't worth any of the time he devoted to it?

Questions like these wrestled throughout Spencer's mind, but they only went away once he arrived home from those long cases. He was reminded of two, soon to be three, reasons why he continued working his job. Once Spencer saw them, he reveled at the fact that his job consisted of protecting families like his. Even though Spencer didn't see it this way, his wife, four-year-old daughter, and soon to be newborn-daughter all knew they had a true hero in their lives.

However, despite all the encouragement and love he received in return, Spencer still felt a little ashamed when a case happened to go awry. This time, it was a case that involved children, and Spencer wasn't the only one to be affected by the outcome of the mission. The only difference between him and the rest of his team was the fact that most of the kids taken looked like the very little girl that he held closest to his heart. On the way back, Spencer was plagued by never-ending predicaments.

What would Spencer do if he was ever put in a predicament such as the ones he sees parents go through on plenty of cases? How would he and his wife be if they were to go through something horrible like that? Spencer knew he should never think these things as they never lead to anything good. Most of all, he knew that worrying about such things wouldn't get him anywhere, and instead, it would just cause him more anxiety and stress that he didn't need.

So, once he got off the plane and headed home, Spencer pushed all those thoughts aside and instead decided to focus on what was most important to him - his family. He had been missing them for the duration of the time he was gone, and now, all he wanted to do was hold them close. Although this was the case, he decided to wait to do anything until the next day. It was three in the morning, and he wasn't going to wake up his family and ruin their night's sleep.

After unlocking his front door and walking into his dark house, Spencer placed his bags down on the ground as quiet as he could before heading to his bedroom with the softest footsteps. Although, he soon found his gentle movements to be useless as his wife was already up and awake, her bedside lamp illuminating the room for him to see. Despite it not being the sight he wanted to see, Spencer still found himself smiling at his beautiful wife as she sat up against the headboard, one hand on her eight-month-baby-bump while the other rested a book against it for her to read.

Once her eyes caught Spencer's form emerging form in the doorway, she smiled back at him before getting up from the bed with only a little struggle after Spencer helped her up. "What are you doing up so late?" Spencer couldn't help but ask, wrapping an arm around his wife as he held her close to him. He knew that the growing child in her was becoming more of an issue for her each day, but she refused to ask for help. She was the same way when she was pregnant with Sophia, and when she became pregnant once again, Spencer knew it would be no different this time either.

"Couldn't sleep," (Y/n) simply explained, resting her hands on Spencer's shoulders as she gazed up at his face. She could tell that something was wrong with him. She could see it directly through his eyes. Spencer had a good habit of putting up a facade that everyone usually fell for - not his wife though.

"You okay, baby?" (Y/n) asked, moving a hand up to brush his wild curls from his face. At the feeling of her gentle touch, Spencer relaxed, but the reminder of the case still lingered in his mind. There was no sense in hiding it from her either. He knew that (Y/n) would eventually make him breakthrough his wall and admit something was wrong. She knew him inside and out just as much as he knew her.

"Today was... horrible," Spencer murmured, leaning forward to lay his head against his wife's soft chest. Despite the slightly awkward position Spencer was in, he welcomed his wife's touch with another small sigh as she slid her arms from his shoulders to his neck. "I can't get the case out of my head, and even though we solved it, I still feel like it's ongoing, and in a way, it is. It's never over for either party.

Understanding his words completely, (Y/n) nodded her head and kissed her husband's temple before gently pushing him onto their bed where he fell back with a small thud. Just as he began to pull his wife to lie beside him, she gave him one last kiss before walking out of their room and into the hallway. She had a plan - Spencer could see this plain as day.

Choosing to stay in their room as his wife directed him to, Spencer quickly changed out of his wrinkled and worn clothes and into soft pajamas that smelled just like the person he loved with all his heart. (Y/n) did do the laundry, after all. When he was away for work, something as simple as that could remind him of home; plus, it didn't help that she was always there to help him unpack when he did make his way home. She always did this without Spencer asking her to, and he wondered perhaps she was just happy that he was home.

Now wearing more relaxing clothes, Spencer sat back down on the bed with his head against the headboard as his wife had been doing when he first arrived. Although, before he was able to start questioning why it was taking so long for (Y/n) to come back to their room, her figure emerged from the doorway with their half-asleep four year old in her arms. Immediately, two things crossed Spencer's mind. He had been missing his daughter for the past week, so this was a blessing. On the other hand, his very pregnant wife was carrying over forty pounds when she shouldn't have been carrying any at all.

Within a quick second, Spencer was off the bed and onto his feet where he took Sophia from her mother's arms gently and held her close to him. Her arms went around her father's neck quickly, her soft hold on him like magic to him. Within an instant, Spencer felt like he could fully breathe again. His wife just with her appearance alone assured him things would get better, but the little girl that she gave him four years ago showed him things were in fact already better.

"I missed you, daddy," Sophia muttered, clutching onto his cotton sweatshirt with her small, yet strong hands. Her little voice made Spencer thankful that he even got the chance to hear it. This previous case had done a huge number on him, and somehow, (Y/n) and Sophia were conquering his bad thoughts with just their love.

At that, Spencer smiled, and as he turned his eyes over to stare at his glowing wife, he felt the emotions he always felt when he came home from a case. He felt welcome and whole. No matter what, he could come home and always have his family eagerly awaiting his arrival. Without them, Spencer wouldn't be Spencer, and he certainly wouldn't have something to look forward to in his life in general. Ten years ago, Spencer's heart and mind were consumed by books and his grueling job, but now, they were currently in the possession of his family - much better than plain texts on pages.

"I missed you guys too, sweetie," Spencer murmured, kissing the top of his already-sleeping daughter's head. At the same time, (Y/n) stepped closer to run her gentle fingers through Sophia's brunette curls. Her hair was just like Spencer's, and as he looked back at (Y/n), he saw her curling her fingers around Sophia's messy ringlets like she always does with Spencer's own wavy locks.

Smiling back at Spencer, (Y/n) leaned up a bit to kiss his lips, only to be pushed back down onto her feet by Spencer. The last thing he wanted was for her to strain too much and go into premature labor. Carrying Sophia was enough heart-attack material for the night, and Spencer definitely didn't need anything else that could cause a panic.

Copying (Y/n)'s actions from earlier, Spencer moved his free hand from her arm and up to her shoulder where he nudged her to sit down on her side of the bed. Already tired of being on her feet, she obliged without arguing and slowly laid down in her previous spot with her hand resting atop of her bump. Soon enough, Spencer was beside her with Sophia lying between them, her hand subconsciously finding its way to her mum's stomach as she got comfortable under their covers.

Quietly laughing from their daughter's movements, Spencer and (Y/n) looked at each other for a short second before Spencer moved forward and returned her kiss. It was only a few moments later that they pulled away as Spencer laid his arm over three of the most important people in his life, earning a happy smile back from his wife. "I'm really happy to be home," Spencer repeated himself, resting his head on his perched arm to look at his family before him. "There's no where else I'd rather be."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds x reader #Spencer Reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x pregnant!reader #Matthew gray gubler #Matthew gray Gubler x reader #Matthew gray Gubler imagine #matthew gray Gubler imagines

[tojigasm]

I can't be the only one who's thought about DilfJake and spanking. The man is for discipline and would not have a problem with correcting his tiny human's behavior.

I am going rather insane for this ideer cus he would be concerned with keeping you safe and you just can't help yourself from acting on last minute decisions sometimes and he's just a stressed out dad trying to keep everyone safe!!

Jake's got you bent over his big lap, bottom already raw from the heat of his palm. You'd been bed. very, very bad. Ignoring his directions during an ambush was a big 'no, no' and all though you meant well, it didn't take away from the fact that you'd deliberately went against what he'd expected from you.

"Gonna keep actin' like a spoiled brat, m'gonna treat ya like one." his voice is laced with heat as he brings a hand down to your bottom again, giving you no time to adjust before he's spanking you again.

You can tell he's holding back from actually hurting you, not placing the entirety of his palm onto you but the sting is still there, and you'll defiently have bruises littered over your thighs and plush cheeks in the morning.

Jake slaps his hand down onto your bottom again, using his other hand to grab your jaw, pulling your head up when you try to hide in the crook of your arms.

"What are you not gonna do?" he leans over to look at your flushed expression - your cheeks are soaked in tears and your hair's stuck to your forehead. You can only sob and he squeezes the fat of your ass, the burn from his hits coming back in full. "What are you not gonna fuckin' do?" he asks again through clenched teeth.

"Ignore your orders, daddy" you choke through a broken sob.

He drops your jaw roughly, "fuckin' ridiculous," he mutters, slapping his hand onto your ass again.

You're so small beneath him he nearly caves at your small sobs and mewls, stroking a hand over your sensitive skin to soothe the ache. Slowly, he makes his way to your cunt, thrusting a finger into your soaked heat before bringing a hit down to your bottom.

This time you moan at the touch, the pleasure of his digits stretching your gummy walls and the sting of his hand pressed into the raw skin of your ass forces you to kick your legs with a cry.

"Hmmph!" you bite into the skin of your arm, earning another strike to your thighs.

"Daddy can do this all night, stop actin' like a fuckin' brat." Jake scolds from above you. And he's so mean, squeezing the fat of your ass again when you sob.

"M'not," you sniffle, too ashamed to look back at him.

"Oh, but you were," Jake's tone drops and you know a lecture's coming, by the way he stops his hand on your lower back, "what made you think for a second that directly disobeying my orders – orders, I have to keep you safe, mind you, would ever be acceptable?" And you know the question is not rhetorical.

Gathering up your pride, you mumble into the soft of your arm and Jake inhales from behind you, "look at me when I'm talking to you."

It's enough to have to turning in an instant, teary-eyes meeting his sharp ones, "I was being reckless, m'sorry." Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the back of your hand before you're blown out sobbing. "M'so, so sorry, daddy. I should've listened to you and I shouldn't have disobeyed your orders because i could've gotten hurt and it was selfish of me and i–"

He cuts you off by pulling you to sit on his lap, his arms dwarfing your size tenfold when he cups a large hand to your head, tucking you into his chest.

You're heaving with sobs, overstimulated and tired from the ambush and paired with Jake's anger and sting on your bottom, you can't focus enough to calm down.

Jake strokes a hand up and down your back softly, soothing you, "honey, calm down," he kisses the top of your head, "you're okay, m'not mad at you."

Pulling back, you look up at him and he strokes a hand over your cheek, kissing the tip of your nose. "You've had enough, m'not mad at you." He scoots you closer to him by the hips, cautious of your bottom, "but that doesn't mean you can go around doing that shit again. You could've died, sweetheart."

You nod at that, eyes drifting to your hands in your own lap, "m'sorry–"

"What did I tell you." Jake scolds softly.

Immediately, you look back up, apologizing once more, "I won't do that again, if I think of a plan that might work, I'll ask you beforehand."

Jake's eyes fall shut at that as he nods. Sighing shakily, he takes you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin, "I cannot lose you, baby."

He pulls back, cupping your cheeks, "you understand me?" And you nod, letting him guide you under his chin again.

He doesn't tell you much about his past or his family since you've become a part of his life. You knew of his mate Neytiri and the complexity of his relationship with her and how you fit in. You knew of his children, Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tuk and the stray, Spider. But he hadn't told you much about the oldest, Netyam, who you'd assumed passed away some time ago.

A part of you harbored the guilt you felt for possibly retraumatizing him in the form of your own reckless action while another part of you was a lot more understanding of his fear. So, you place your hand at his heart and Jake's immediately cupping your small one with his larger one, keeping it pressed into his striped skin.

That night, when the two of you fall asleep, Jake holds you to his chest and you spend a few soft moments looking over his features. Imagining what you'd look like if you had an avatar or had been born na'vi.

"Why are you staring at daddy?" Jake asks, peeking an eye open to look you over. You don't answer, opting to just smile at him. Jake gives you a small smile back, stroking your back gently, "Wanna introduce you to Neytiri n'my kids soon."

A strike of anxiety settles into your core at that, "r-really?"

Jake nods, already falling back asleep, "now go to bed."

It was much harder to fall asleep that night.

#jake sully #jake sully x reader #dilf jake sully #avatar #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x reader fluff #jake sully smut #jake sully fluff #avatar smut #avatar fluff

[rabbitbandit05]

Head-canon: Mizu/Reader while on their Period

First official post for BES fandom, thats exciting!

I have recieved a few requests and have started working on them, so those will be posted very very soon! Reminder that if you have a request to please either comment or to submit an ask on my page (anonymous is on if that matters).

Ok, now getting into the actual post: Im not sure why I wrote this, could be because I was on my own period and it seemed like a fun topic to cover since it isn’t always talked about. These are all my own personal head-canons and may differ from what others think, so take all of this with a grain of salt.

I feel like Im also not sure weather to use You when refering to you, the reader, or to use Y/N, so for my first post I kept it very general (I use reader in this post isntead of 'you' or 'Y/N'. please give me feedback on this and weather you would prefer me to use something different.)

Warnings: Mentions of Blood (duh), Mensuration, and NSFW

🚫Minors DNI!🚫

Mizu on her period: 

Her periods are irregular, mainly due to her inconsistent diet and stress she is usually under

But when they do come, she can usually handle them pretty well. She doesn’t mind the blood and the pain isn’t terrible either (considering the pain she has felt before)

It does bother her though that she is slightly limited in movement and has to wrap herself either 1.) very very well so that she doesn’t bleed through or 2.) rewrap herself every other hour, which is annoying and costly of time

She also hates that it’s an indicator of her gender and one wrong move could expose her

During the worse days of it, might just stay at an inn for the night rather than staying outside (if that’s an option)

Reader is particularly attentive during this time for Mizu and is doing anything to comfort her (even if on the outside she doesn’t show that she is in pain, reader still knows she must be) 

Reader heats up water, messages her tense shoulders, ect. Really anything to ease the pain (reader usually does this, but does it more so while Mizu is on her cycle)

Reader also helps to clean her wraps, since it would look suspicious if Mizu did it herself and wasn't injured. 

Reader on Their period:

Not gonna write too much for this section since everyone's periods are different and don't wanna generalize

When reader is on their period, Mizu is more attentive for sure, and more affectionate since she understands reader is struggling a bit

Might make sure to take longer breaks while traveling, so that reader has more time to gather and situate themselves 

Mizu gives lots of hugs and cuddles while reader is on their period, especially at night when everyone else is asleep

NSFW: 

depending on weather reader is inclined to sex while on their period or not is up to readers interpretation 

If yes, then Mizu doesn’t mind fingering her partner while they are on their cycle

In fact, I think she rather likes it, considering the only other time there is blood on her hands is when someone has been killed or injured, or it’s her own blood- 

She finds it almost ironic that the same hands that have shed so much blood can also be covered in readers blood (for a good reason)-

I don’t think she would mind eating out reader either, not finding it disgusting at all

When Mizu is on her period, she doesn't mind being touched, but also doesn’t exactly initiate it 

She still views it as something to be ashamed of 

And just generally wants to ride it out before being sexual/ sexually involved with reader again (at least on her part) 

But I’d reader initiates it, then Mizu is happy to go along with it, though it’s still limited and mainly just cuddles 

Suggestions and feedback is appreciated! Thank you for reading!

-Rabbittea🐰

#mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #bes #bes mizu

[taxidermycanine]

5 WAYS TO HELP WITH SPECIES DYSPHORIA AS A THERIAN (with and without gear)

- please note that most of these are focused mainly on being a wolf therian, but i'll try my best to make it more inclusive to others.

1 •

my personal favorite, wolf quest! this one does cost money, so this isn't for those who don't have the money/don't already have the game. it really helps me feel more connected to who i am. you find a mate, raise pups, hunt prey, defend your den and pack from predators, and there's even a multiplayer option for you to play with your friends. :o)

(and yes, you can customize what your wolf looks like. all NPC wolves in the game have different personalities for immersion, including you, your pups, and your mate)

please note that the game is still in development! they plan to add a saga where you can live constantly with your pack and continue with new generations each year (and no, you don't HAVE to pass away). you can toggle whether your mate dies or not, if you play on easy you can avoid your pups getting sick by reloading saves if you're sensitive to that, there are constantly new updates being brought out that make the game feel more realistic each time and the development team are incredibly sweet. if you have the money i highly recommend this game, wolf therian or otherwise.

2 •

documentaries. a wonderful way to not only feel more connected to your theriotype(s), but to also learn more information about them! my favorite thing to do when i'm stressed is to wrap myself in warm blankets, turn off my lights and put on a documentary to calm myself down. bonus points if you DO have gear to wear during this, if not that's okay too.

i also like to have my plush friends join me so i can act like they're my pack :o) it's a nice way to feel less lonely as i watch. this also works if you're a domestic cat therian, have your plushies be your clouder! no matter what animal you are though, never feel less valid for wanting your stuffies with you during this. it doesn't matter if your theriotype isn't a social animal in the wild.

if you're an aquatic therian of some kind, i think a good idea would be taking your phone in the bathroom with you and setting it up outside of the tub to watch whilst you're in the water! (or shower if you don't have one, you can also use a kiddie pool outside in the warmer months). PLEASE remember to be safe during this though, if you worry about getting your phone wet then instead find some blue blankets and pretend it's the ocean!

3 •

going outside to where your theriotype resides in naturally. of course this won't be for everyone, since a lot of the time trips can end up being quite costly. something that i like to do is go to my local forest whenever i have the time to do so! i find it refreshing to sit by the stream and play in the water with my mate.

if you're a domestic dog therian, ask to go on a walk around the neighborhood with your friend! (or hell, go by yourself if it's safe enough, you're a free dog, you can do what you want). even as a wild animal i still enjoy this, so don't feel ashamed if you're ALSO a wild animal who wants to do things that domestic dogs do. it doesn't make you any less undomesticated.

if you're an animal that's used to deserts, i recommend going to where you can access sand (e.g. a sandbox at a playground, asking for a small sand tray to play in as a gift, a day out to the beach if you live near one). i also find that dried dirt that's very damaged can feel sort of similar to sand!

if you can't go outside for whatever reason, then there's always ways to make your bedroom feel similar to where you would be more comfortable. if your theriotype lives in dens like caves and underneath trees, make a blanket fort and pretend it's your home! if your theriotype rests in a burrow, make a tunnel with some blankets from the top of your bed all the way down to under it (if that doesn't work, pretend that anything below your bed is underground, and anything above your bed is the surface).

4 •

dressing in clothes that are the same color as your theriotype. i have this fluffy hat with ears that feels very affirming for my species dysphoria, paired with my favorite dark sweaters, warm pants and my tail. if you don't have any gear, don't worry! you don't need to have any to complete an outfit. sometimes clothing textures can also be affirming. for example if you have smooth skin like a whale, a bathing suit can feel similar to blubber. (if you have gender dysphoria, i recommend either full body bathing suits, or wearing pants on top of it and a jacket to help yourself feel more affirmed). i wear fluffy clothes because my fur is fluffy :o) it helps me, personally, but this might not be the same for everyone!

5 •

studying the behavior of your theriotype and trying your best to imitate it to the best of your abilities with the body you have. this can be as simple as copying how they act around each other as a family (for example wolves who are mates will rest their chins on each other to display affection), and as difficult as trying to vocalize what sounds your theriotype makes.

if you wanted to try the latter, i recommend looking at vocal exercises online before as a lot of creature sounds can and will strain your voice, i promise you that warming up your chords will not only help you sound clearer, it'll ensure that it won't take as much effort to do!

#canine therian #therian community #wolf therian #wolfkin #theriotype #caninekin #nonhumanity #therianthropy #cat therian #cat theriotype #aquatic therian #species dysphoria #therian help #therian advice #dog therian #fox therian #canine theriotype #therian things #therian #woofwoofbarkwoofhowl #confessions of the wolf

[horanghaeluvsinniehae]

Hi guys! Im ashamed how long i procrastinated on this BUT I’m back with a lovely request from @want2besomeoneelse who also requested this lovely fic with skz han!! Thank you so much for requesting this because it’s such an adorable idea and i loved it so much even if it took me 2weeks to finish:(

Pairing: ateez wooyoung!bf x gn!reader

Disclaimer: BBQ, kisses, mention of atz beating Wooyoung up if he hurts reader (couldn’t find anything else but please tell me if there is any!!)

Word count:1372 (im sorry i just loved the idea so much😭)

The request was based on the middle photo!<3

The comfort of Wooyoung

After Wooyoung offered the cuddles with the BBQ, the idea didn't seem that bad anymore. You got a little excited and even cheered up a bit at the thought of being with the boys, listening to their banter while cuddling with your lovely boyfriend.

You honestly loved spending time with all of them, but today you were just so exhausted and felt like going out and being around loud crowds of people would just make things worse. But you also haven't seen them properly in a while and they’re like a second family to you and you miss them a lot.

Wooyoung picked you up around seven. After like ten minutes of driving and talking, you realised that he went the opposite way to your usual BBQplace so you questioned him. “Hey Woo…aren’t you going in the wrong direction?” “No babes, we’re going to Yungi! They said that they wouldn't mind if it’s at theirs if it means you're going to come with me!” He smiled at you softly and looked back at the road. Your heart melted when you heard what was happening.

The rest of Ateez are like the big brothers you wish you had when you were younger. They are protective of you and would definitely beat Wooyoung if he hurt you.

When you arrived at Yunho and Mingi’s apartment, Yungi and Hongjoong were setting up the BBQ and the meat outside while the others were half fooling around, half helping the others. After the preparations were done all of you piled outside.

You sat around the grill and when Wooyoung put his arms around you, you instantly melted into his side. You were so tired. Sleep has been terrible these days and today’s meetings sucked the life out of you. The elder knew that cuddles charge you up very well so that’s exactly what you choose to do to recover from today’s work stress.

While everyone fed themselves, your caring boyfriend also fed you as you remained glued to his side. All you had to do was point at the items you wanted to eat and you occasionally kissed him on the cheek to show him that even though you're tired, you are beyond grateful to have him.

After all of the meat was eaten everyone stayed outside around the grill and talked about anything and everything. You listened to Jongho and Mingi both complain about struggling with a new dance move in the choreography, while Wooyoung giggled at them because of course the main dancer had already mastered that move.

After a while, you started getting cold and just wanted to be inside. “Woo…do you think we could move inside, it's cold here. Would the others be okay with that?” you pouted and looked up at him with tired eyes. “Yunho hyung, could all of us move to the couches inside? It’s getting cold and I don't want any of us to get sick.” Wooyoung asked the host. You were thankful that he didn't emphasize that you were cold because you would’ve felt bad for making everyone move inside just because you felt cold. “I support the idea!” Yeosang said who was sitting on your right side. “Well then let’s go inside, but please help us clean up here!” Seonghwa instructed his dongsaengs as he stood up from his chair.

After twenty minutes all of you sat on the couch and Mingi was going through Netflix, waiting for suggestions on what to watch. “Let’s watch the one with Seongwha hyung in it!!” Jongho said enthusiastically while everyone laughed.

After Mingi put How to Train Your Dragon you felt Wooyoung move. “Baby are you comfy?” he kissed your temple softly after he asked. You turned to face him and nodded, giving him a soft peck. He smiled at you brightly and pulled you closer to his side.

Even though you've seen this movie before, you still teared up when Hiccup’s dad told him: you are not my son. While you were trying to sniffle quietly, Wooyoung suddenly lifted you up and put you on his lap. You looked at him confusedly. “Wanted to comfort my baby. I don’t like seeing you sad!” He gave you a quick kiss and wiped your tears for you. You snuggled closer to him and after a while, your sniffles quieted down. Wooyoung softly rubbed your shoulder up and down.

The movie was not even halfway when you started feeling drowsy. You were already tired but with your head on Woo’s chest, you could feel every vibration when he laughed or made a comment so that just added to making you slowly fall into a soft slumber.

You don’t know for how long you were asleep, but you stirred up when Wooyoung started moving around. You wanted to get up because Woo must’ve gotten sore by now. But you couldn't move much upward because two strong arms firmly wrapped around your middle and pulled you right back to where you were before. “Woo, I can move if you want me to-” “No baby I want more cuddles! I just wanted to lie down so it’d be more comfortable for both of us!” he interrupted you and lay on his back while also shifting your body so you’ll be comfy cuddling into his side. “Thank you Youngie!” After you thanked him, you fell right back to sleep, not even realising in your sleep-drunken state that you guys were still in Yungi’s home with the others around you.

As you dozed off again, the others around you started teasing your boyfriend with kissie faces and cheeky looks, but he couldn't care less when you were in his arms. He placed small kisses on your trample and brushed his hand through your hair. Then he rubbed your back while pointing his tongue out at his crazy hyungs and of course, Jongho who has sneakily taken generous amounts of photos of the two of you. Even if Jongho isn't an affectionate person he still loves looking at what you have. Plus it’s great blackmailing material, but that’s not the important part.

Another unknown amount of time went by and this time you woke up when the cold air hit your face. After you looked around you realised that you were at your front door still cuddled up in Wooyoung’s arms while he was opening the door. You wanted to put your legs down, but Woo still didn’t want to let you go.

After you got in Wooyoung brought you to the bathroom, gently placed you on the counter and took care of you as in brushing your teeth and changing you into pyjamas. You got off the counter and walked to your bed, but you realised that Woo hadn’t changed into the pyjamas that he kept at your apartment just in case he wanted to sleep there. You turned around with a sleepy pout on your face and looked up at your boyfriend who was following you to your bedroom. “Young-ah you're gonna leave me here?” you looked at him sadly. “You want me to stay baby?” Woo asked you before giving you a gentle kiss. “Of course I want you to stay!! I always want you here with me Woo!” you exclaimed and hugged him tightly. He chuckled lightly then picked you up and put you down on your back. “I’ll be back quickly baby, I'm just gonna change yeah?” He looked at you lovingly. You just nodded and got comfy in the bed. You closed your eyes because it was getting harder to keep them open.

You were in between awake and fully asleep when you felt the mattress dip next to you then you were grabbed by two familiar hands and pulled into his chest. “I love you, Woo, thank you for today!” you told him and gave him a quick kiss. “I love you too baby and you don't have to thank me!” he said then gave you a kiss back.

He pulled you closer into his chest again and kissed the top of your head. “Good night my love!” He said to you asleep form and then he fell asleep too dreaming about forever and after with you.

Thank you for reading this and im deeply sorry for not posting for 2 weeks:(( im also sorry if me and or my work gives of pick me vibes because i dont mean to😭

Anyways please give me feedbacks because it motivates me to write more and that way i can work on things you point out!!

You can always request and i’d love to receive requests!!

Thank you for reading my work and not forgetting about me!! Take care of yourself and be safe please❤️‍🩹🫂

Taglist: @justwonder113 @ihrtlix @want2besomeoneelse (comment or put in asks if you want to be on the list!)

#ateez wooyoung #ateez ot8 #ot8 ateez #ateez yeosang #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung x reader #ateez jung wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez fluff #wooyoung fluff #ateez texts #ateez fake texts #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez #atz #atz wooyoung #ateez recs #ateez requests #wooyoung fanfic #gn reader

[agere-buppy]

🌧️ involuntarily/negative regressing megapost 🌧️

i hope this might help regressors identify their feelings or for others to pick up on these behaviours when they see it. of course, everyone's experiences are different so if this isn't something you relate to, it doesn't make your experiences any less valid! 🩵

🩵 big feelings

it starts off with an intense, overwhelming negative emotion: stress, frustration, sadness, exhaustion, overstimulation, etc. for this post, im going to use a very common trigger for me - social conflict.

🌧️ communication difficulties

as an autistic person i find it very hard to read tone, and so arguments (even joking ones!) can cause me to become overly emotional and regress. the first thing to go is my ability to communicate properly! responses will get slower and shorter.

🩵 confusing reactions

as communication skills and emotional regulation slip away, my behaviour becomes more erratic - this includes going quiet, giving emotionally intense responses or even trying to walk away. to other people, this can be difficult to understand and might make the situation worse.

🌧️ the 'bad behaviour' spiral

though it's not my intention, responses appear combative, immature or moody. short answers or lack of answers may appear passive aggressive, overly emotional responses can seem like an attempt to guilt trip, and trying to leave can look like storming off. i feel ashamed of my childish responses, and i begin to sink deeper.

🩵 the break

eventually, the mask completely slips. at this point there's crying and attempts to hide or isolate. behaviour is pretty much infantile and i have no choice but to let it run its course.

💧a personal example 💧

a few years ago i was venting about my day with a co-worker. he began to offer solutions which i rejected and he criticised me for this: i immediately saw this as a conflict and got anxious. as i panicked my sentences got shorter, which he picked up on and questioned. the more my behaviour became childish, the more negative i felt and the more those behaviours happened. eventually i burst into tears and was trying to get him to hug me. i ended up leaving work early to go home and hide under my covers. it was very embarrassing and unhelpful!

🌀 i involuntarily regress - what can i do? 🌀

it's called involuntary regression for good reason, sometimes it just can't be helped! but it's good to understand your triggers and spirals, so that you can plan ahead.

🩵 understand your triggers - if you've regressed this way before, what caused it? is it a place, person, situation? why could it be causing your regression?

🩵 think about the basics - is there a need you've been neglecting? although it can sound dismissive when your feelings are so intense, you might need to do something simple. have you been eating nourishing food and staying hydrated, taking your medication, sleeping well, taking breaks and going outside, keeping ourselves and our home clean? these things can really affect how we feel!

🩵 be prepared - explain to those around you that your trigger may affect your behaviour and that it's not something you do intentionally. express what you'll need to do if this happens, and ask that they be patient with you. it also helps to have items such as fidget toys, sensory chews, communication cards and noise cancelling headphones with you, just in case.

🩵 communicate - in the early stages, it's important to explain how you're feeling and what you need! some helpful things to say might be:

'can we take a little break? im feeling overwhelmed'

'if i start giving short answers, it's because im overwhelmed, please be patient with me'

'i need some time to process this information'

'can you speak slower?'

'i'd like some alone time'

🩵 having a (self) care plan - if you end up regressed, it's good to have things in place! i don't have a caregiver, but if you do, reaching out for help is a good start! if that's not an option, keep a box of regression supplies, comfort items and mental health paperwork in a place that's easy to access. having an exit plan, including giving a reason for needing to leave or arranging a way to get home, are super useful things to keep in mind.

🩵 forgive yourself - it's not the end of the world. regression can be a very embarrassing experience, but it's not causing any harm. show yourself kindness.

🩵 getting help - if you find that regressing is interfering with your daily life or becoming common and disruptive, reach out and search for mental health resources or support. it may be a sign of an underlying situation that needs attention.

🩵 reflection - once it's over, consider how things went. are there behaviours you regret or things that could have been better? you might owe people an explanation or apology, but remember, this doesn't make you a bad person! like everyone else, you just had a rough day.

☔ how can i help someone involuntarily regressing? ☔

🩵 dont panic!! freaking out, asking a bunch of questions or drawing attention will only make things worse. if someone isn't responding to you, try asking simple yes/no questions that they can nod or shake their head to.

🩵 try not to take it personally - it might be difficult but involuntary regressing can be extremely overwhelming. being on the receiving end of short answers or unusual behaviour can feel uncomfortable or even hurtful, but try to remember that this person isn't in a clear frame of mind right now. being aggressive or defensive will only escalate things! only shout if you absolutely have to, for example, a potentially dangerous situation

🩵 be patient and reassuring - speak gently and slowly. offer reassurance and explanations on what you're intending to do. some helpful things to say might be:

'nobody's upset with you/you're not in trouble'

'i'll stay with you for as long as you like'

'take your time'

'youre not in any danger'

🩵 express your boundaries - it's okay to say no! if a regressor is doing or saying something that makes you uncomfortable, you have every right to tell them that you don't like it, even if they're in a bad headspace.

🩵 check in/ask questions - if you feel comfortable doing so, check in on them and ask how you can support them better if this happens again.

regression can be a fun, healing experience - but it can also be frightening and humiliating, both are completely valid. when you're online, it's easy to forget that regressing isn't always a cute, sanitised aesthetic experience. there's nothing wrong with you and it's going to get better.

thank you for reading! feel free to reply with your tips, thoughts or questions 🩵

#involuntary age regression #involuntary regression #impure regression #impure agere #involuntary agere #buppy babbles #sfw agere #sfw age regression #sfw little blog #sfw littlespace #autistic agere

[tinyidle]

Hii!

I was wondering if your requests we’re still opened and if so, could you please write a smut with Mingi X Fem.reader where you give him a blowjob while he’s driving and he gotta pull up in a parking lot cause he wants you so bad.

Thank you in advance and love your work!

Have a good day! 🥰

Make It Worse - SMG

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: you have a mouth problem. you can't really help that you never fully stopped teething, and it helps with regulating emotions. and you can't help that your boyfriend only makes your slightly strange addiction even worse.

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: mingi x fem!reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: slice of life; fluff; smut

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: established relationship; car sex after a movie date

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.15k words

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: some angst, hand kink, slight brattiness from reader, nipple play, oral fixation, fellatio, fingering, cunnilingus, tons of saliva, cum eating and cum in general, overstimulation, insatiability (on both ends), slight exhibitisionism, slightly awkward positions, unprotected sex (know what you're doing), b!gd!ck mingi, risky sex in every way combined, all fiction ofc ofc

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature

𝘈/𝘕: thank you very much for liking my things! this made my creative gears turn, i just had to do it now or id never do it. also, i hope all your days are grand too <3 and yes, requests are open, albeit me responding to them once in a blue moon lol. 2nd submission to @wonderlandnet

we all have that one odd thing we did growing up-- collecting random objects, fiddling with hair or clothing pieces, smelling certain things. what you had, however, was something you had as a child that grew into an explicable thing: you like having fingers in your mouth.

sucking your thumb was a common thing growing up that you eventually grew out of, but after becoming sexually active, it became less of a subconscious thing you do and now more of a need from your partner. at first, whenever you'd bring up your habit, it would turn of some and turn on others a bit too much, making your relationships last extremely short.

this lasted for a good while until you met your current partner, mingi. you prepared for the worst from the moment you told him about your "unsettling habit" to some, but to him, it was nothing. he just simply shrugged his shoulders as if you told him that you just finished off season one of one piece.

"really?" you asked, shocked that he seemed so nonchalant. "you're not weirded out." let out a chuckle, mingi leaned to you and gave you a chaste peck on the cheek, "it's more normal than you think. and if anyone makes you feel otherwise, fuck 'em."

you would smile from then on, always relaying that time in your head when you would feel ashamed for feeling the need to suck on your thumb due to high stress, or excitedly nibble on the tips of your fingers when a funny bit showed up in one of your favorite movies. mingi made you feel safe despite your habit, and for that you could never let go of him.

and he honestly couldn't let go of you either. when months turned to year, and you became more comfortable around him (and he with you), he would be flattered by how you shared your habit with him. now, instead of sucking your thumb due to stress, you'd silently ask for mingi's fingers to put in your mouth while he would use his other hand to gently massage any areas causing you tension. instead of nibbling on your fingers whenever something funny showed up on television, you'd subconsciously grab at one of mingi's long fingers and swipe your tongue around it, smiling when his familiar taste welcomed your taste buds.

mingi found it endearing, he really did. just like you let him lay his head on your lap for comfort and scratch his scalp when life got a bit too difficult for him, he let you use his hands as a haven for whatever you were feeling, and whenever. it was crazy that, despite his size, you were as equally his shield as he was yours.

it was even crazier, however, when you both found out how much you loved each other. the moment you decided to get intimate, your love and almost constant need for sucking off your boyfriend became that much more apparent than wanting his hands. mingi understood how much you liked the closeness, so he'd offered himself for whenever you needed in private. he knew that later he'd also get to have you, so it didn't matter to him.

tonight, however, especially since you both scheduled to have a car movie night date to a romantic chick flick, it was going to be extra hard not begging for him.

mingi drove you two to the area where the projector and sheet was with other open trunk-cars. during the entire drive, you were biting your lip, forcing yourself to not grasp at your boyfriend's fingers as he was holding the steering wheel. it was definitely not the right time to gain his attention, however, so you did your best to stick it through. it didn't help that mingi would occasionally put one hand on the wheel while the other would caress your thigh-- lovingly of course, but not-so-innocent thoughts would flood your mind every time he made the innocent gesture.

once you were there and opened your own trunk, you and mingi would push the back two seats of the SUV forward to give you two more room. opening the trunk and situating the blankets and pillows you brought with you on the interior ground, you both laid down on them while cuddling each other, face forward to see the upcoming movie while being able to feel comfortable.

the movie was funny, mysterious, and romantic all-around. you would hold onto your boyfriend's fingers and put them over your lips in case you felt like having them, but to mingi's small but fortunate dismay, you didn't put them in your mouth. in private, mingi doesn't mind you using him in any way possible, but in public (or in this case, semi-public), it would do something him that he wishes he could calm down but can't. you weren't holding up any better, as you still had that lingering need for your boyfriend since the car ride to the movie. what made it even worse was when a sex scene came up out of almost nowhere.

yes, the movie was for adults because of the curing and mildly crude jokes, but in no way did any of the descriptions say that it may content actual sex. there was the nudity warning, but you thought it would be a simple comedic "flash scene". nope. the couple had only flash spotting of humping and kissing and love-making during the five-minute scene. you could feel your boyfriend's heart race that much more, his adams apple making an almost cartoonish gulping sound. as for you, the fingers you were now fiddling with on your lips were now being held tightly by you as you begged to yourself to not get turned on. it didn't work.

once the movie ended past dusk, you and mingi got out the trunk and closed it, then got into the driver's and passenger's seats. as mingi was setting the map to drive you two home, your mind kept wandering back to the movie, along with your rekindled want to have your boyfriend. but now it was too late, as he started to drive again. you waited and waited and twiddled your own thumbs before having an idea. mingi's hands were occupied, but his length wasn't.

the man was focused on staying in his lane in the highway, awaiting further instruction from the GPS before he felt his sweats getting pulled from the front. not wanting to look down and risk being a danger on the road, mingi cleared his throat before asking almost too innocently while staring straight ahead, "baby, what are you doing?"

disregarding his inquiry, you practically clawed through his confinements until you got to your target. pulling out his half-hardened length as he hissed from both the cold air and your firm grip, you smiled up at him. you decided to answer him by lowering your mouth onto his head. "ffff-" mingi whimpered as he did his absolute best to pay attention to the road. he groaned as your tongue swiped across the pre-cum that formed on his head, nearly dipping his head down.

softly jerking your boyfriend in hopes of getting him fully erected, you warned him: "focus, mingi. dont lose focus on driving." using his unoccupied hand to caress you hair, you looked up to find him nodding as his breathing became unsteady. but you both knew it would be hard for him not to snap.

with each suck, it got even harder to focus as your tongue felt so warm and welcoming against him. you could clearly see it as you were seeing the occasional blush from his face. he quickly turned to the right side of the highway to avoid rear-ending the car in front of him, almost scaring himself. you accidentally jerked off of him from the force of the turn, but quickly regained yourself to rest your mouth back on your boyfriend.

mingi's eyes went wide when he realized you were actually trying to make him cum instead of just simply using him, evident when your ministrations only heightened. "baby-" mingi pleaded as he tried using one of his hands to gently push you off him, "please dont. not here."

as he saw that you were too cock-hungry to listen, mingi frantically searched a place to stop at. he thankfully found an area in the forest, turning right into the grass until he knew you wouldn't be seen. much to the warning of the GPS re-routing him to their destination, mingi ignored the assistant. once he parked and turned off the map, he pulled you up off his rock-hard on and feverishly smooshed his plush lips onto your now-swollen ones. because of the place you were, mingi pulled off your lips to go to the back on the still-made trunk, motioning you to join him in the back of the car.

as you went to the trunk, you saw mingi hastily remove his restrictive clothing, with you following suit. both of you are now finally free of any limitations, back onto each other's arms and mouths as mingi's hands explored all he could. he once again pulled out the kiss to kiss down your neck and chest, latching on your erect nipple.

you groaned as your hands found a resting place on his hair, massaging his scalp in tandem with hip jerks. mingi held you hips down, letting go of your breast just to simply say, "wait, baby. let me take my time." suppressing a whine, you nodded and allowed mingi to have his fun with your breasts, occasionally flicking the bud and sucking the whole of the areola part in his cheeks as a challenge to see how much of you he could fit in his mouth as you did with him. spoiler alert: he was good, but not as good as you with him. your moans were loud, but it was exactly how he liked it.

"fuck, mingi. let me have your cock again. please," you pleaded now, understanding the pain he felt when you were teasing him while he was driving. plopping off your breasts to give them each a light blow and kiss, he watched as you shivered and panted from his actions.

mingi chuckled before sitting up, motioning you to lay curled up near his now red length. "ill let you suck me off if you let me fuck you with fingers."

you frowned a bit. you wanted him to have you on his girth after blowing him. "but-"

"you almost made me hit a car," he reminded you.

"i told you to focus!" you tried your hardest to gaslight. the man raised his hands to pinch and twist your used nipples, making you yelp and recoil from mingi. "hey!" you called out as your boyfriend laughed at your reaction before crying out when you tugged and twisted the same to his testes. you stuck your tongue out, "you're mean."

of course, you both know it was the brat in you talking, but knowing what type of man you were with, mingi looked past it and simply gave you the ultimatum. "either we do what i say or you get no fingers or dick for a week." you widened your eyes and whined clearly getting stress from not being able to get you way. leaning down to kiss your temple while rubbing your hip to relax you from the current space your body was dragging you to, he loosened the ultimatum a bit. "it's okay. if you be good for me and cum on my fingers, ill get you off on my cock any way you want."

your eyes lit up instantly, causing mingi to smile. "really?" you asked, hoping he wasn't joking.

he nodded as his hand now went to rub your pelvis. "i promise baby."

leaning down to give you a reassuring kiss, you reciprocated before reaching up to hold the hardened length in front your face. mingi did his best to not jerk his hips up as he sighed from your hot mouth once again sinking into your mouth, immediately slurping off any pre-cum that beaded his tip. using the hand he was massaging you with, he pushed your legs enough to have access to your pussy. mingi slowly and leisurely pushed his middle finger into your wetness. as soon as his digit touched your skin, you gasped from the sudden shock and immediately cried out. without thinking your throat clamped down on mingi's shaft, making him choke out as he worked you open for his second finger.

"shit, your mouth is always so damn good," he panted, his fingers now steadily pushing in and out your gushing cunt. the car was filled with your muffled gags and whines while mingi's deep exclamations along with your loud core rung in your ears. "you're truly gonna be the end of me. ah, fuck..." his actions on you plus his facial expression told you how close he was to release.

wanting to make you cum first, mingi leaned over and held your leg open while his other hand curled inside you, occasionally using his thumb to rub against your previously-untouched clit. shaking from your release coming, you patiently until mingi gave you the go-ahead to let go. "mingi, im- ahh!" you exclaimed as his length fell off your mouth while your hips jerked into his hand, breathing heavily from the overstimulation creeping up on you as mingi prolonged your orgasm from pulling out your hole and furiously rubbing your clit.

remembering your boyfriend, you took his length back in your mouth, clamping down as sucking on it as you were lazily jerking off the large part of him your tired mouth couldn't reach. "oh, fuck. im gonna-" holding you to himself as you kept your iron grip on his girth, you felt ropes of cum spill from mingi's girth to your mouth as he groaned in relief. you happily sucked off all you could, swallowing until his length was clean.

mingi sighed while in a now sit-lying position, pulling you upwards and in for a loving kiss. "good job," he congratulated you, rubbing his cleaner hand on your cheek before sucking off the other of your juices into his mouth. you both enjoyed each others' tastes very much, making it easy for you two to get each other off for the sole purpose of tasting each other. when he cleaned off his fingers, mingi asked, "now, my flower, how would you like to be fucked."

you didn't mean to moan, but being reminded that you were going to be able to choose your reward, especially when this was your reward, you couldn't help but exclaim in the only coherent way you could right now. mingi chuckled before waiting for you to gather your thoughts on your decision on the desired position. "i want to ride you while i suck your fingers," you concluded, blushing in spite of the exposed state your were at.

your boyfriend simply nodded before saying, "okay, we can make that happen." mingi sat straight up and brought you to his lap, chest-to-chest. he watched at how utterly beautiful you looked from his current line of vision. bringing his hands to your waist, he ran them from up your shoulders down to your hips before carefully lifting you up by your ass. as you held his girth to where your hole, and he would meet, he wants to make sure you're ready. "you ready?" he asked, thumbs stroking as much of the skin of your ass it could.

you nodded, "yes, baby."

you both smiled as you shared a kiss, gently making out as mingi lowered you down on his firm girth. you both broke the kiss to gasp from the intrusion of love through the penetration. you had to adjust to mingi's size, even if you were on him just a few days ago. he was just so huge that, while your mouth got used to him, he would have to continuously open you up for him. it hurt at first, having him in you so deep, but after a few minutes of slow grinding and praises from your boyfriend, you started moaning more from pleasure than discomfort.

mingi placed his hands on your sides, pulling you closer to him as he slowly lifted you up and down his slick length. you inhaled sharply and shivered as you were felt every ridge of your boyfriend, with mingi breathing heavily from your cunt practically choking and soaking him. when the pace sped up, your cunt would clearly be hard wetting your boyfriend's lap.

as you were set to emptying your mind from how your boyfriend was fucking you, mingi helped turn you to lay your back on his chest without coming off him. he brought his fingers to your mouth, to which you happily invited in your saliva-slick mouth. "mmmh," you moaned as you now bounced and ground your hips on your boyfriend's girth, feeling proud of yourself in how you got to be so lucky with such a man.

mingi moved his other hand to rub tight circles on your clit, causing you to make high pitch moans from the extra stimulation. he wanted you to fully let go, and you knew it. "come on, baby. cum for me," he kissed under your ear, making you twitch and cry out. "let that tight pussy make a big mess on this cock. im all yours." he stopped circling your clit to tap against it, fully sending you to the edge as your eyes welled with tears as you came hard.

"fuck!" you exclaimed loudly on mingi's fingers as you greatly wet his length. "m-mi-ngii~" you hiccuped as your mind focused on pushing yourself harder on your boyfriend, trying to milk every drop of cum that could come out of him. and so you did, with him chanting your name before releasing another rope of cum into you as he held your hips down to fully enjoy his orgasm.

both of you were panting heavily, you especially exhausted from the overstimulation you just experienced. taking a minute to catch your breath, you felt your boyfriend remove his now limp length from your cunt. you instinctively grabbed his hand to move his fingers from your clit and sucked on it, smiling from how sweet you tasted.

mingi snorted before lifting you off his lap and folding you in half. "gi, what are you- oh my god!" your mouth as now hung open as your boyfriend held your thighs open, slurping up all the cum he emptied in you. ignoring your legs shaking and your desperate pleas to slow down, he cleaned you up, licking and nibbling your puffy folds until you were pushing his head away, sounds of shivering only being made from you as you lost almost all your thoughts.

going up to cuddle you and calm your shivering down, mingi smiled as he saw you slowly fall asleep. when sex was intense, you'd tend to sleep fast instead of go through the normal aftercare routine. giving your forehead a peck, he did his best to put your clothes back on as well as his own, move the dirty blankets and pillows to the front, and took a spare pillow and blanket to help you rest soundly while he drove you both home.

#ateez smut #mingi smut #wonderlandnet

[akutasoda]

Hello! Can I request fyodor, Nikolai and chuuya having a dream that their s/o cheated on them?

you'd never leave, would you?

synopsis - they dream you've cheated on them and even though they know it's not true they can't help but seek reassurance

includes - chuuya, fyodor, nikolai

warnings - gn!reader, angst to comfort, mentions of cheating, accusations of chraring?, petnames, reader hot on in nikolai's, wc - 1.2k

chuuya nakahara ★↷

he hadn't really been having a great day. the boss kept assigning him work after work and therefore he had to spend a fair share of evenings stuck at his desk or put on the field instead of the comforting embrace of you. what made it worse for him was that your schedule didn't align either.

so when he was finally having a rest, you were busy with either work or something else. so he hadn't properly seen or hung out with you for a while and somewhere in his stressed filled mind he started imagining the worst. and as he walked into your shared bedroom he almost forgot everything.

seeing you so relaxed made him feel more relaxed. he quickly got ready for bed and slipped under the covers beside you, careful not to wake you and eventually drifted to sleep. except it wasn't pleasant. within a short amount of time he began tossing and turning.

why? because somewhere in his mind he had the awful thought that all this time you were out, you were cheating on him. his dream reduced him to a nervous wreck and he was shook awake. you had been woken by his tossing and turning and seeing the look of discomfort and pain on his face made you quickly shake him awake.

he was startled as you look at him concerned asking him something along the lines of 'is everything ok?'. he could only stare at you. he was ashamed he even considered the thought of you doing such a thing and he didn't want to say anything as he didn't want to seem as though he was accusing you of anything.

so he responded with a shake of his head as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulling you back down beside him. and before you both began sleeping again, he lifted his hand, his pinky out infront of you. you could faintly make it out in the dark and linked yours with his as he said 'promise to stay with me?'

fyodor dostoevsky ★↷

alot of the time, fyodor spent a longer than average time sat infront of his rather excessive amount of monitors. sometimes you would join him but you honestly couldn't see how he could sit there for as long as he could as you got very bored after a while.

especially because the most response you could get out of him was a simple hum or nod. and besides you did have a life outside of your relationship. but nowadays you found yourself more and more busy with said life. whether ot was hanging with friends or working, you barely had time to spend time with fyodor.

and it's not like he made an effort. so the most you would see of him would be briefly before you went to bed. and fyodor was a rather rational person so he assumed you were always just so exhausted and he respected that.

but as his eyes drroped a bit from exhaustion, he couldn't seem to help but let his mind wander, to drift to less than desirable scenarios. some of which involved you and other people. he immediately stilled and thought over the absolutely horrific scenario his mind played him. you. you with someone else. someone that wasn't him.

now he would never accuse you of doing so as a small part of him was arrogant enough to be rather cocky of your relationship, but considering the past weeks he felt more inclined to indulge that idea. he cleared his throught as he stood up, he wasn't going to allow such scenarios to distort his view but he had to check.

he saw you were fast asleep by the point of which he entered the bedroom and he felt a little bad for waking you. you stirred before waking up as you sleep filled voice ran out a simple 'what?'. he didn't really want to be direct about the subject but he still wanted to address it.

so he settled for the simple statement of 'dear, would you ever consider cheating on me?'. he secretly feared you answer as he dreaded you uttering the words yes but instead you returned a very sleepy 'no, whatever gave you that idea?'. he smilrd to himself before uttering a 'nothing before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

but you reacted quickly and dragged him next to you. nestling into his side as you muttered a 'now stay' as you caged him in your arms.

nikolai gogol ★↷

he was never one not to create elaborate scenarios in his head. he also enjoyed dragging you out with him. so after a very long day he decided he just wanted to see you and be with you for the evening. but he could barely sit still for five minutes.

and that's what lead to you beibg dragged around by him until he found a bar suitable for his mood. and whether or not you were one for this kind of scene, today you really just didn't feel like doing much. completely ignoring everyone else around you and focusing on your conversation with nikolai.

eventually nikolai excused himself for two minutes and so you turned your attention to idly swirling around your drink as you zoned out. you heard someone sit back next to you and assuming it was nikolai you looked up with a smile, just for that smile to drop as you realised it was a stranger.

they started talking to you and no amount of disinterest on your end would stop them. even as you internally wanted to just leave, you wanted to wait for nikolai. you thought they would never shut up and that was until nikolai came storming back over immediately grabbing your hand and dragging you back home.

you were silently very glad and much enjoyed just staying at home with nikolai. but he seemed off. and that was due to the fact that he saw someone else trying to hit on you and for some reason, tonight his mind drifted to rather different scenarios.

his mind was clouded with questions suxh as would you ever cheat on him? did you have any interest in anyone else? and more. you noticedhe seemed distant so when the front door closed you turned him to face you.

you brought your hands up to his face, cupping it as you asked what was wrong, even though you had a pretty good idea. he'd never looked so sad before and it made you worry. he pushed your concerns away before resuming his normal cheerful mood. but you weren't convinced.

so when nikolai was shaking you awake you knew exactly what was up. he couldn't shake the questions away and eventually shot up like a bullet from his nightmare. taking a minute to assess where he was he immediately looked for you. a bit surprised he hadn't woken you but he needed you so he begrudgingly woke you.

he seeked out your embrace as he expressed his concerns with his head buried in your shoulder as your sleep muddled brain barely worked out much but you knew what was happening. you returned the words by offering nothing but comfort and promises that you'd never dare such a thing.

eventually you both drifted off to sleep and he felt more content. he did have faith that you'd never dare cheat on him but he still couldn't help it, especially when he got jealous.

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai x reader #bsd x you #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd nikolai #nikolai x reader

[kangen-wanshi]

Hi! Could you do Kisses ft Alhaitham, Diluc, & Zhongli? Only if you want to!

Kisses ft. Al Haitham, Diluc, Zhongli

How they kiss, the feeling behind it, and overall how they convey their feelings through it.

Tags: mwah mwah kisses, slightly suggestive on Diluc's part

Al Haitham, Casually and bold

Al Haitham is a straightforward individual with his needs, and it shows with how he treats his feelings.

He doesn't want to take overtime because his time outside of work is for you. He doesn't accept a sudden invitation to a party should his time be already reserved for you.

When asked why he would just deadpan at the opposition who asked the question and said it directly that that very specific evening, is his time spent for you.

Al Haitham divides his schedule well so that he can fulfill his duty while paying attention to you.

So when he's finally free of the shackles that is work, when his attention can finally be yours, when you're finally in his presence, he will start all of it with a kiss.

On your cheek, your lips, the top of your head, your forehead, nose, anywhere is fine.

Just let him finally enjoy your warmth on his lips, and he's content to do whatever it is you have in mind.

While the first kiss of the day is absolutely mandatory, the rest of his kisses are all instinct.

Reaching over to your cheek when you're close to him, kiss. Finding you busy with your own work, your shoulder tensed up due to stress, kiss. When your hand falls into his, kiss.

He's so casual about it, even at the beginning of your relationship to the point that you have to ask him to calm down or you'll have a heart attack everytime he becomes too sweet to you.

All of that happened behind closed doors.

— not.

This man is shameless. He doesn't get embarrassed and he will laugh at you if you're turning beet red from a kiss on the cheek in front of your friends.

Look, he likes you. His friends - and probably nearly everyone who knows about you knows that he's absolutely into you. So he's just, what's wrong with showing his love?

Although if you're not comfortable with it, he'll stop.

Al Haitham is bold and direct with what he wants. Personal feelings aren't something that he can rule out with logic, so acting on it is the only thing he can do rather than dwell on it.

But if you'd like him to tone it down, he'll do it. Would grab your hand in exchange, though.

He can't help it. If he can't kiss you, at least, let him be close to you.

"Is there something wrong, dear? You seem a little red."

Diluc, Desperate and breathtaking

Cool, and composed, is what Diluc is.

Often brash and bold with his secret profession as the Dark Knight, and that often follows you. Although, it usually shifts to a sense of possessiveness.

By status, Diluc is someone who is born to wealth, and fortune. Owning the most famous winery of all Mondstadt, born in a family of noble, good looks, etc. He practically grew up with material wealth.

So when he finally has compassion as one of the things he enjoys in life, you bet he'd grow obsessive over you.

Hands would always sneak around your waist, another would hold your cheek, and give you a passionate kiss.

He's not ashamed of PDA, too. He knows that he should let people know that you are, in fact, with him. (They know). So Diluc is not one to hesitate to put an arm around your waist or a hand on your lower back.

In front of others he won't exaggerate his kisses though. He won't hesitate to kiss you on the lips, yes, but he's also not one to straight up devour you on the street. (Though, perhaps in a dark alleyway.. )

But in private he's more.. Desperate.

Whenever the chance is given, he will press a kiss on you. Yes, whenever, and wherever (in private).

Your cheek, your lips, your hair, your hand, or even your thigh. Wherever that is reachable by his lips, rest assured he will kiss it.

Usually it's only pecks. He doesn't mind however long it is as long as he can somewhat savor you with his lips. Though other times, when he feels quite just a bit more desperate than usual, is when he truly shows his possessive side.

Nibbles and bites are common. If your clothes are in the way, his hands are swift to pull them aside just enough for him to plant a firm kiss to your skin.

With his pyro vision, his touches are often warm. This applies to his kisses, too.

Hot breaths, sometimes paired with a few links and graze of his teeth, often sends shivers down your spine. And with how close he is in holding you whenever he does it, he knows how his actions affect you.

This often leads to more, if you're up for it of course. But even if you don't, Diluc doesn't always strive to love making whenever his kisses leave a mark on you.

He just likes marking what's his.

"Sorry.. I couldn't help myself. You're beautiful, darling."

Zhongli, Soft, slow, and passionate

— Like writing a poem, or taking care of a plant, or reviewing old memories. His kisses are slow, as he enjoys taking his time and savoring every intimate moment shared with you.

Being the former representative of the Geo element, Zhongli is aware of how time can easily erode every stone he's erupted. Time has always been the enemy to his eternal strength. Even if he's unaffected by it, everything around him often is taken away faster than what he had expected.

Including you.

Whether you're ageless like he is, or just a mortal who captured his heart in your hands, he knows that one day time will take you too.

So he does what he does best, savoring and preserving memories of you slowly and carefully.

Unlike the history he's left behind, memories of you are for him only to carry, so he doesn't mind taking his time engraving it to his memory.

A hand on your cheek, another holding your lower back, pushing you towards him. His slender thumb carefully strokes your cheek, and your lips, before finally kissing you with a content smile.

His kisses are often soft, as if he feared he might break you if he becomes too overwhelming. But even so, you can clearly feel how loving he is with how he tilts your head, and pulls yourself against him. He often longs for more.

A favorite part for him to kiss is your lips. Yes, he is a gentleman and often kissing on your knuckles can easily send butterflies flying in your stomach, Zhongli prefers the traditional way.

A peck, a kiss hello, a kiss goodbye, aim for his lips, and he would absolutely adore and be willing to lean down to you.

Of course Zhongli would never turn down anything that comes after a heated session of kissing, but just make sure that no one is around or that you're not in his office.

He loves you, but he really got to keep his cool and image at work.

Kissing you a promise for things to expect later when you're alone, though. So don't worry about him abandoning you.

He would never.

"Greetings, my love. How was your day?"

#x reader #reader insert #les does writing #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader

[urarakasdiary]

-LILY OF THE VALLEY

Jjk men as your lover!

GOJO

He's head over heels for you and isn't ashamed of showing it.

Protective but not so much so that you feel controlled. He knows the limits.

Always picking/dropping you off. When you're out somewhere: spending time with friends, clubbing, etc. it doesn't matter, he's always beside you, looking over your shoulder. Staying alert.

Definitely spoils you with wayy too many expensive gifts and if not gifts, date nights, picnics and movies are his thing.

Might be a bit too cocky and touchy but will stop when you ask him to.

GETO

Public show of affection is not his first preference but if you like it, he'll do it.

I can see him being overprotective. He knows it's wrong so he tries not to show it.

Is always on the lookout for bad company you have, and will warn you about them.

Doesn't necessarily spoil you but he'll buy you anything you ask him to.

He can be a bit manipulative sometimes, but he knows his flaws and tries fixing them for your sake.

NANAMI

He's an old money guy. Flowers and chocolates every week. Showers you with affection.

Covers you with his jacket when it's cold, and never lets you open any doors, that's his responsibility. And trips to your dream places every month.

Also a big spoiler, more on the high-end stuff. Designer bags, jewelry, coats, clothes whatever you have an interest in. If you're not interested in stuff like that he'll buy/make anything you like.

Acts cold, more so if his work is stressing him out. Random bursts of anger that surpriseur you, but he would never, ever hurt you.

MEGUMI

Also a guy who does not like public display of affection. Will try his best to avoid it. But at the end of the day, if you do show affection in public, he'll gladly accept it.

I don't see him spoiling you. Quality time with you is more important than giving gifts.

He would never admit it but he loves it when you play with his hair.

It takes a bit for him to open up to you and express himself freely, but you'll get there sometime.

SUKUNA

I have no words.

This dude will not let you breathe. Hyperfixated on you and you alone.

Going out? where? when? with whom? what are you gonna eat? why? you already have me, why do you need anything else?

Possessive, over-protective, ANGER ISSUES.

Loves you more than you could imagine tho.

CHOSO

He's definitely very shy. Even with you.

Wants you all for himself. If someone even looks at you a bit too much, he's picking up a fight.

Doesn't really know how to express his love so he does everything. Acts of service, Gift giving, Quality time, and maybe even physical touch (sometimes).

Gets upset very quickly but he knows how to handle his temper.

I wrote this in a single day because I want to revive my blog 🥲 Very very sorry if it did not meet your expectations Im trying to get back to writing and English being my second language doesn't help either 😭 Requests are now open :) <3

If you want a part 2 just let me know. I'll try to respond as soon as possible 💗

#urarakasdiary #jjk #jjk men #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo headcanons #satorugojo #gojo saturo x reader #geto suguru #suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto headcanons #suguru headcanons #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu choso #jujutsu sukuna #nanami #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #head canons #choso x reader #choso kamo #choso head canons #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk megumi

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader, Sam Kiszka x f!Reader (STAY WITH ME)

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 24.6k+ (i am so sorry)

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering: MDNI 18+ ONLY struggles with body dysmorphia/eating, heavy emotions/ talks of an absent parent, *extremely* sick & terminally-ill parent, mentions of sexually explicit scene on film being shot, anxiety/stress, stressing about college grades, worries/anxiety about failing, test anxiety, over-indulgence of alcohol (drunkenness lol), spook/haunted houses, people in scary clown makeup, mentions of jumps scares, *consensual* relations where people put their mouths in *certain places*(not full smut. yet.), ambulances, someone being wheeled out on a gurney (with a lifeless-looking body), JEALOUSLY. lots of jealousy.

a/n: i apologize for this chapter taking me literal years, lol. this one is a bit heavy & was a little hard to write at certain points. but, it's been my brainchild for over a month now & i had to be sure it was perfect before i posted it. i hope you enjoy & as always, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d'Arthur Masterlist

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The midterm pressure is now properly underway. With tests nearly everyday this week, a rigid filming schedule, work, and taking care of your mom, you’re on the edge of being worn completely thin. 

Not to mention, you’re awfully distracted these days. 

Filming has continued as normal. And you finally tackled that scene with Sam just weeks ago, and it went perfectly. Josh had a vision— to show the first fully intimate moment between the secret lovers. The first time their bodies become entangled in their heated passion. The ‘most significant image of the film in its entirety,’ as Josh had put it. 

You’d been scared. 

But after the kiss you shared with Sam, the one that moved far beyond the legendary characters you were portraying, the scene was performed to utter perfection. It was seamless; it felt completely natural. 

Something ignited within once you put the costume on; something you’ve never felt before. A new kind of assured confidence in your body that has never once exuded from you. Your body that you’ve hated since your first cognitive memory, the body that you’ve opted to shield with oversized clothes to hide yourself beneath their stitched fabrics. 

But, something happened.

After draping the thin lace over your frame, you were no longer you. You became a queen with a body worthy of being desired. 

Josh and Malachi knew just what they were doing when they chose that (extremely erotic) dress. 

For once, instead of being ashamed of your skin, you were fucking proud of it. You looked goddamn good.

And by the way Jake had been frozen solid in the door frame with his eyes locked on your exposed figure, you’d say he thought so, too. 

You’d half expected him to drop to his knees right then and there, to fully submit and hand himself over to your will. And he probably would have, had it not been for Nat physically throwing him out of the way. (Had you not been so utterly turned on in the moment, you probably would have busted out laughing at the sight.)

The scene was filmed the very next day (with tattoo makeup, of course) and you used that exact heated tension within you to perform your very best. 

When Sam saw you in the gown, his reaction was much the same as Jake’s. He was entirely transfixed by you; his eyes never diverting from your body. Not even once. 

You had belatedly decided to forgo nipple pasties, much to Natalia's surprise. There was something about the way you felt, with your breasts still hidden, but your buds peaking through the thin fabric. In a weird sense, it made you feel even more in control of your body. 

And the way Jake looked at them…

You couldn’t get his lust blown eyes out of your mind. He was, inadvertently, the reason why you felt so self assured during that scene, why you were able to give Sam such a heated performance… even if only a little. You had to credit his reaction for the help it had given you. It had been what your brain kept going back to time and again, anytime you swept the lace over your body. It was him who had helped you to have this overwhelming, new confidence when wearing the revealing piece.

(And you’d never admit it to anyone, but every time you put the costume on, you only ever thought of Jake. Not even his initial reaction—just him. When you felt sexy, he came to mind. And the thought of him alone helped your nipples to be prettily peaked for every intimate scene Josh would shoot.)

But Sam. Sam is the one who actually uses his words to reassure any unsureness you may have every single day. 

Sam is the good one. The sweet one. The brother who never fails to put a smile on your face.

“Y/n…holy fuck.” He had said as you met him on set the first day you’d worn it.

And fuck, he’d looked damn good himself. No shirt, tight satin pants of the purest white. His hair was fixed to look disheveled and tangled, framing his features and giving him a look of pure sex ridden lust. 

As heavy as the kissing scene had been, this one was levels heavier. 

According to the script, you were meant to be laid out on a bed of red satin. You, sprawled out before him, and he on his feet at the foot of the bed, admiring the vision that is the ever lasciviousness Queen Guiniverre. (The vision of you.) 

And admire you he absolutely did. 

With the same look his brother gave you the night before, sending flutters to your heart and a pulse to your core. You envisioned Jake, but you saw Sam. 

These two have entirely consumed your every thought. Sam has been in communication with you nearly every day, even outside of filming.

He conned you into giving him your number (not that it took much convincing) and he texts you, even calls you, multiple times a day. 

Just innocent small talk, usually. Something little will make him think of you and he’ll send a quick message to tell you what it was. Sometimes he’ll send a joke or two that will force a laugh out of you, along with an eye roll. However there have been a few times that he’s taken it upon himself to make sure you know just how much fun he’s having with you on this film, that he knows his body sometimes speaks his infatuation with you louder than his words ever could. 

And complain you will not. He’s a fucking dream, the sweestest man you’ve ever encountered. And so outlandishly beautiful. 

It would be strange for you to not develop feelings for him, especially given just how close and personal the two of you have become during filming. 

But,

Jake. 

He wrapped you into all of this. He showed you a side of him that you’ve yet to see since. You couldn’t deny him, although you had every reason to. 

It’s like he only wanted you to keep his promise to his twin of helping him find someone to play opposite of him (Sam, mostly, of which he clearly didn’t realize) and he only did so because you’re partners in this blessed project. Not because of who you are. 

He buttered you up, to convince you to say yes, and that was the end of it. 

Then, he went right back to his asshole ways. 

That’s why for the life of you, you can’t fathom the idea that you’ve developed much stronger feelings for him than for Sam. (Who is, obviously, the far better candidate.)

And Sam is the one who gives you the attention you deserve.

But fuck. 

The way Jake stared at you in that costume. And the way he didn’t take his fierce eyes off of you during the filming of your scene in that gown.

His jaw clenching with every kiss shared between you and Sam, his fists bunching up with each touch that connected your bodies. You heard deep, drawn signs coming from him when Sam caressed you. Furious sighs from flared nostrils. 

He ended up storming out mid scene, slamming the door so loud you all nearly jumped out of your skin. Thanks to that, you had to redo certain parts of the scene. Sam had made a joke about how he “wasn’t upset” to have to do it more than once. (And you weren’t, either.)

But not having Jake in the room made it slightly more difficult to put yourself back in the mood. His presence alone, the deep breaths filling his lungs, his stare casted on you each time you glanced his way— that was plenty of inspiration to perform your sexiest. 

But without him there, all you could do was picture him in your mind. Which you did with no problem. But it just wasn’t the same without his body in the same room as yours.

Before you left that night, you heard yet another fight commence between the twins.

“You should’ve told me it would be like this,” Jake fumed.

“I abso-fucking-lutely did, Jake. You just don’t listen worth a single shit.” 

Jake slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, “I helped you write the goddamn script and those scenes were not in there. You know that for a fucking fact.”

“Okay— so I took a little creative liberty and added a few things. I am, after all, the director for god's sake. I think I’ve earned the right. But you knew the plot, Jake. Don’t act like you didn’t,” Josh spouted. 

You’d gone to walk out the door before more was said. You felt guilty for listening, them both under the impression that you’d left. 

But you’d heard something more that kept you from fully shutting the front door on your way out. 

Sam was apparently in on this argument, too. And you’d overheard some rather interesting things regarding you— some things you haven’t been able to let go of since. 

“Just admit it, Jakey boy. You thought you would be the one enjoying all these scenes with y/n. That’s why you asked her to join the cast, isn’t it? You’re just pissed that I get to share these moments with her and not you.” 

Hearing those words come out of Sam's mouth was something you were not prepared for in the slightest.

You needed to just close the door and leave, to stop listening in on this conversation that you were most definitely not meant to hear.

But after hearing that, you just couldn’t bring yourself to take a single step. You had to hear Jake’s response. 

“That’s true isn’t it, Jake.” Josh agreed. “That’s why you’re all out of sorts with this whole thing.”

“First of all,” Jake raised his voice with yet another loud crack against the granite countertop, (His fist must’ve fucking hurt like hell that night) “I only asked her because I had to. We were assigned this ridiculous project together and I was not about to work on something alone with her.”

…that was a fucking blow to the heart.

“Secondly, Sam, I don’t give a fuck one about your special little scenes with her. What I’m pissed about is that you’ve made this entire plot about fucking, Josh. That is not the only goddamn thing that happens in the original texts.”

He did make a solid point there. But from everything he’d told you about the plot before you agreed, (which wasn’t much, if you’re being honest) that was the whole point of the film. At least to show their adulterous human desire, that their love for one another wasn’t a strong enough force that others couldn’t break their way through.

“Jesus, Josh.” You heard footsteps coming closer to where you were hidden, so you quickly made your way out the door to conceal yourself. Before fully closing it, you heard Jake say, “I don’t want to be part of a fucking x-rated film. That isn’t what I signed up for. And you’ve basically taken everything I’ve helped you with and thrown it in the trash. Why did you even ask me to help if you didn’t want to use me for anything other than your precious fucking Arthur that you’re ruining with these worthless rags you call costumes?” 

You quietly padded your way to the car as you heard Jake coming closer to the door. You felt you had heard enough, and you weren’t sure if you could mentally handle hearing much more. 

As you drove home that night, your car squeaking and rattling its way through the middle of Detroit, the sound of Jake’s words in your mind were far louder than that of your beat down Firebird. 

“I only asked her because I had to…I was not about to work on something alone with her.”

You couldn’t control the stray tears that fell down your cheeks. You’d always known that was the only reason he asked you, but hearing him say it…was something else entirely. 

At that point, you’d decided that you’re not doing this for Jake anymore. Not even for the sake of your class. 

You know it’ll get a good grade. That’s no longer a worry of yours. 

No; You’re doing it for the friends you’ve made in the process of this goddamn thing that you would regret doing if it weren’t for them. 

They way Jake’s family has treated you, especially in comparison to how he has treated you…you’re only sticking it out for them. Fuck Jake and his shit attitude that he’s given you since the first moment he met you. 

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You dramatically set your cold brew on the plastic table, throw your bag on the sticky floor and plant your ass so hard in the metal chair you’re sure it’ll be purple in a few hours. 

Elbows resting on the table, you let your head fall in your hands as you let out a long sigh.

“That good, huh?” Nat questions.

You peak at her through your fingers, taking in her almost apologetic smile. “I’ve not scored anything above seventy percent on a single midterm. And I still have one more to go.” 

True to her character, she pulls your hand away from your face. She’s told you before that she likes to see your full face when she talks to you— just another reason, that even in the short time you’ve known her, she’s been the best friend you’ve ever had. 

“And what is wrong with that, might I ask? Seventy percent is a C. And last I checked, that’s a passing grade,” she says with her slim fingers still held tight to your wrist.

You move your other hand away from your face as it falls limp into your lap. “I didn’t move over fourteen hours away to go to the school I’ve dreamt about since I was a child to make C’s, Nat. I want to excel. I want to make the dean's list. I want to leave my mark. I won’t be doing any of that with anything less than all A’s on my transcripts.”

She just smiles at you and softly shakes her head, a few perfect ringlets falling from her silken scarf.

“You will make your mark with or without a perfect 4.0, y/n. Your life is more valuable than a silly cumulative number that isn’t reflective of the person that you are.” She lays your hand down on the table with a soft pat against the back of it, her long acrylics leaving the gentlest, comforting scratches. “You have to stop being so hard on yourself, babe.” 

She’s absolutely right, and you know it. In the grand scheme, grades don’t matter as long as you’ve passed. But dammit– that’s just not enough for you. You can’t, you won’t accept anything lower than an A. 

You have to prove it to everyone who said you’d never make it. Everyone from your tiny hometown, everyone in this city who expects you to fail.

Everyone. Even your father who left you and your mom when things were at their outright worst. The man who cared more about his own well-being than that of you and your disabled, ill mom. You have to defy the standard, beat the odds. You refuse to become merely a product of your shitty situation. 

You have to show him. Show him that you’re worth more than he thought you were. That you can do just fine taking care of your mom and yourself. Without him. 

“It does matter, Nat. If I don’t do well now, I’ll never get accepted into a grad school and if that doesn’t happen, all of my hard work has been for nothing. I’ve proved fucking nothing.”

The sternness in your voice causes her to withdraw her hand from yours and sit herself all the way back in her chair, arms crossed in a state of defiance. “Who the hell do you need to prove yourself to? Why do you care so much about what other people think when I’m sitting right here trying to convince you that you don’t need to do that?” Her voice matches your tone perfectly, with seriousness and irritation present in her inflection. (Perhaps a bit more than you had anticipated. She’s passionate, you can’t deny that for a second.)

You pause for a moment, taking in the vast realization that you’ve never gotten that personal with Natalia on your behalf. She knows of your struggles with your body, and she’s done everything in her power to make you see yourself the way she sees you ever since you opened up to her.

She knows where you live as she’s had to pick you up and drop you off a few times for filming, so you’re sure she realizes that you live in a complex for low income, disabled tenants. She knows you leave and come back periodically if filming runs a little late, unbeknownst to her that it’s to take care of your ailing mom. But not once has she ever pried with a wandering mind. She’s been waiting for you to tell her. 

Talking about these things is just something you’re not keen on doing. It presents an awful lot about you that you wish you could’ve left in Oklahoma. 

It’s just hard. 

And it’s hard to know who you can and can’t trust, who will take advantage of you and who won’t.

But as far as Natalia goes, you’re certain you could tell her just about anything and she’d be the last person to use it against you. But that doesn’t make it any easier to say everything out loud. 

Suddenly, she stands up from her chair, the sound of the metal legs against the tile floor sending a shiver throughout your body. “W-where are you going?”

“Come on,” she responds, swigging down what’s left of her coffee. “We’re going to my car.” 

Instead of arguing, you stand up with her and gather up your things, following her as she takes quick strides towards the glass doors. 

“Why are we going to your car, again?” you ask.

“So you can tell me what you’re not telling me.” 

At first, you’re a bit confused as to why she’d prefer to go to her car to talk. But as you open her passenger door, you remember that car talks are always the best place for deep, emotional conversations to happen. That’s exactly what she wants from you, and as soon as you take residence on the black leather of her Escalade, you feel the unrelenting urge to spill it all. 

She slams the car door before adjusting body so she’s facing you. She rests her elbow on the center console, placing her face in the palm of her hand as she scans you with her chocolate eyes, waiting for you to speak. 

“It’s just…” you sigh deeply from your chest before you begin telling her everything. “I’m the sole provider now. My mom isn’t much longer for this earth,” The sting in your heart upon hearing yourself say those words feels like an electric shock to your system. Speaking them feels like pure bile leaving your mouth. But it’s true. And not saying it doesn’t make it not true. “So it’s up to me to take care of her. She doesn’t have anyone else.” 

Nat’s eyes soften at your vulnerability. Where they were once inquisitive, they’re now full of warmth and realization.

“I can’t fail her by failing myself. My education is just as important to her as it is to me. She didn’t even question it when I told her I wanted to come here for school. She showed me nothing but support, even coming with me when it was most definitely too dangerous for her to make the move. She did it anyway— she wanted to do it. She wants to see my education through as much as I do, and I’ll be goddamned if she doesn’t.”

“Is that why you go home so often? Why you can’t always stay very late for things?” she asks with a timid, sweet voice that calms your spirit a bit.

“I have to take care of her. Make her dinner, sort out her medications, make sure her oxygen tank is well tended. I’m terrified to be away from her, Nat. But she insists that I still live my life. I feel like I’d be doing her a disservice if I wasn’t, you know? But my biggest fear is that I’ll come home and she’ll be gone…and I wasn’t there to save her.” 

“Shit, y/n,” she says, hardly above a whisper. “I hate that there’s so much pressure on you, girl. What about a live-in nurse? Or home health? Is that something you could do?”

“Her insurance won’t cover a live-in, unfortunately. And there’s no way in hell we could ever afford one on my paychecks alone. Her disability plan claims she doesn’t need home health, and that is something I just don’t understand,” you respond. 

“Do you have any other family that could step in and help? What about your dad, where is he?”

You haven’t spoken of your dad since he left. You’ve hardly given him a single thought, even. The move was another way of purging him from your life completely— leaving the home you had once shared with him, getting rid of all of the stained memories once and for all. 

You know that deep down there are plenty of happy memories of him somewhere, buried, in your psyche. But after the way he just up and left you and your mom as soon as her diagnosis was confirmed, the way he left in the middle of the night with no warning and leaving you to manage it all yourself, it’s hard to muster up a single pleasant feeling towards him. 

“I wouldn’t care to know, if  I’m honest.” You chuckle rather cynically,  “The very moment he found out my mom could no longer serve his needs, that he would have to actually take care of someone for once in his goddamn life, he fucking ditched. Left over a year ago, haven’t seen nor heard from him since.”

Your life changed forever when you woke up that morning to his stuff cleaned out of the house, his oil stained spot in the driveway missing his pickup truck, and nothing but a handwritten note on the fridge that said ‘I’m so sorry, baby girl -Daddy.’

From that very moment, you became your moms entire world. Her one and only ‘person.’ It was no longer your life you were living for. She needed someone to take care of her, and the person that vowed to do that in ‘sickness and in health’ left. Just fucking left.

“He is who I have to prove myself to. That fucking asshole needs to know just how well I’ve done— how well we’ve both done without him. I don’t need him to take care of her, to get myself through school and graduate with fucking honors, and then go on to get my masters. I can do it all without him.”

Heavy tears begin to well in your tear ducts, tears that have been begging to be shed since the day he left. But you haven’t allowed yourself to cry over it. You swore to yourself that you’d be strong for your mom. 

“Y/n I–I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have asked.” She most definitely picked up on the sudden onset of your emotions. As much as you try to hold it back, you just can’t any longer. Your flushed cheeks become soaked with your tears. You're sad, but more than anything, you’re angry. Angry for you, angry for you mom. You haven’t allowed yourself to properly feel any of it. From finding out your moms terminal diagnosis, to your dad abandoning you the very next day. You haven’t done a bit of healing since. 

But something about her presence makes you feel like it’s okay to show your emotions, to at last let them come to the surface for the first time since everything has happened. 

You try to tell her it’s okay, that you actually really needed this. But the words are incoherent behind your sobs. 

She takes note and doesn’t say anything more. She reaches her arms out towards you and you lean forward, falling into her embrace. 

She rests her head on yours, her own tears falling onto your hair. Her empathy is something you treasure most in your friendship. 

She always knows the right thing to say, and she always knows when words aren’t necessary. Right now is most definitely one of those times. 

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“I can help whoever’s next!” You shout to the small line of students filling the lobby, each one hugging a pile of books flush to their chests as they patiently await you and Natalia, stationed at the other computer behind the desk, to lend them their study tools.

Work has been especially hectic this week as everyone is cramming in their last minute studies. Each computer designated for student use has been occupied nearly everyday this week, but even with the prominence and accessibility of the internet these days, there have been plenty of students checking out real hard backed, leather bound books as well.

As an avid reader yourself, it brings a spark of joy to your heart to see so many people still reading physical forms of literature.

You’ve loved seeing the mass array of books that have come through the counter this evening, ranging from the iconic literary classics all the way to the Fundamentals of Trigonometry.

Next in line is one you recognize from your beloved (sometimes) class on the mysterious King Arthur. 

Toney Carmichael. The six foot something, brawny, platinum blonde wide receiver for the Michigan Wolverines. And one of the most academically scattered people you’ve ever encountered. 

You’ve made up your mind that the only reason he’s taking classes is to play football. He couldn’t care less about the school aspect of it all. 

He makes the most outlandish, blatantly incorrect comments during class each week. You question how he managed to weave himself into such a high level English course. 

Your first thought: rigged. Absolutely rigged. Someone pulled some tight strings for him to be able to continue his education so he can keep his precious football schedule. 

From what you’ve heard, he’s quite good. One of the best on the team.

Not that you would know (or give the slightest shit) about a single thing to do with that area of the university. 

You’re far too ‘liberal arts’ brained to understand the intense lore behind competitive sporting. 

You fight off the urge to roll your eyes as he quickly pads his way to the edge of the counter, plopping a mass amount of books before you, one even falling behind the counter and onto your keyboard. 

“Hey, Toney,” you say, with little to no enthusiasm.

You begin scanning the ISBN tags on his books, noting that they are a cumulative of the required semester readings for your shared course, all of them pertinent to the first half of the class.

You snicker to yourself, realizing that he’s waited until the very last opportunity to read these novels before the midterm test, which is tomorrow.

This class is very reading intensive; you can’t fathom waiting until the last moment to tackle all of these incredibly difficult reads.

Nine books in, you’re finally down to the last two to scan into his account. With a limit of twelve books that can be checked out at once, he’s cutting it awfully close.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight are next, scanned in and bagged with the rest.

At last, the final novel.

It's so torn up and ragged that you can’t even make out the title on the tattered cover. 

You scan the faded tag placed on the spine; Le Morte d’Arthur. 

Not just that, but the exact one Jake had returned months ago.  The one you wouldn’t loan back to him because you had a far better version that you let him borrow in lieu. (That he also hasn’t given back yet, you suddenly remember.) You recognize it as such now, though you didn’t realize it at first. But the computer also conveniently notifies you of the last six students who had possession of the book. 

You twinge a little upon seeing the name Jacob T. Kiszka in bolded arial font on the desktop screen.

But, no matter. It isn’t Jake in front of you right now, it’s Toney Carmichael. Star football player. (Sadly.)

You finish the last few steps, placing Mr. Carmichael’s receipt with the date of return stamped on the top in his bag. 

“Here you are, Toney. Good luck on the midterm tomorrow!” you say, bidding him adieu while handing him his stuff. 

“Shit, that’s tomorrow? I thought it was Friday!”

Idiot.

“Nope, it’s tomorrow. Better get to reading,” you tell him. He flings his plastic bag of books over his shoulder and nearly sprints out of the building. Again, you ask yourself, how the hell did he manage to get enrolled in his course?

You turn your attention back to the led screen, fully intending to clear the display in preparation for the next student. You’re met with the harsh realization that a certain name is still grievously present. 

It serves as a reminder of the very night he asked you to do this confounded film for his brother. Where the very seed of his kindness was planted, only to never be watered and die in the soil with his shit personality. (That somehow still hasn’t turned you off entirely. What the fuck, y/n.)

You see a student walking up out of your peripheral, and before you can tell them you’ll help them in just a moment so you can finish ridding your computer of Jake’s name, they slyly place a venti cold brew next to your hand situated on the mouse. 

You pause your task to snap your head up to see who in the hell brought you your go-to drink.

What’s the perfect distraction from Jake? His charming and equally stunning younger brother.

And god, stunning doesn’t even begin to describe the vision before you.

This is the first time you’ve ever seen his hair pulled back, tied in a loose messy bun sitting at the nape of his neck with a few strayed pieces framing his cheekbones. 

He’s wearing the most lovely blue button up embellished with cream colored flowers, left partially unbuttoned on the top to frame a dainty silver charm hanging from a matching chain, complete with a black and white canvas belt bag draped across his midsection. 

Fuck, the way that these colors accentuate his flawless complextion is rather elating. Your heart jumps a few extra beats when he makes eye contact with you.

“Sammy! What are you doing?” you inquire with an embarrassingly huge smile plastered to your face.

He flashes a smile that matches yours, the corners of his mustache curling with his sweet grin, his round eyes crinkling above his cheekbones.

“Figured you could use this,” he says while nudging the cold brew a bit closer to you. “Oat milk and extra vanilla, right?”

You pick up the drink and take a long swig of the cold coffee, sighing in relief at the feeling of the caffeine entering your worn down system. 

“I most definitely needed this. How did you know this is my favorite?” you ask him, taking another sip.

He looks to Natalia who’s standing near you behind the counter and throws her a sly wink. “A little bird told me.”

You turn your head to look her in the eye, while she quickly looks away and pretends to busy herself with something useless.

“Natalia Dolores! Are you the little bird?” you say with a shocked tone, a massive smile threatening to make an appearance as she attempts to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Woah, she middle named you, Nat. This is serious,” Sammy jokes, his lips tucked in a patronizing grin and his eyebrows hiked.

“Don’t look at me, girl! He’s the one that asked!” She wags her finger towards Sam, her other hand planted firm on her popped out hip. 

It’s staggering how the smallest act of genuine kindness, something as simple as surprising someone with their favorite coffee, carries a meaning far beyond the gesture itself.

Also, it just so happens that coffee is one of the direct lines to your heart. 

You snicker at her response as you shift your attention back to Sammy, catching the twinkle in his drowsy, honey eyes as they set their gentle gaze on you.

You can see so much behind them, so much that he isn’t afraid to hide from you. His unfeigned honesty is captured perfectly beyond his feather lashes.

But the only thought pounding from the screaming voice in your head…why couldn’t it have been Jake instead?

You quickly force yourself to shove that thought down immediately. It’s quite simple; Sammy gives a shit, Jake doesn’t. It’s time to put an end to your sad, unreciprocated little crush on Jake. His disinterest is unequivocally clear, he’s even said so himself. (Even though he had no idea you were listening in.) So why bother with your silly infatuation any longer when there’s someone far better giving you the attention you deserve?

“Thank you, Sammy,” you tell him, the feelings for his insolent brother waning as you catch the genuinity behind Sam’s smile. “You’re truly my knight in shining armor.”

“You’re quite welcome, your majesty,” he counters with a regal bow of his head. 

You smile at him as you take another sip of your gifted liquid gold, humming at the bitter sweetness as it falls down your throat. Perfection in a cup.

“You know,” Sam resumes, shifting his body to get a good look of the old building in which he resides. “I’ve never actually stepped foot in this library. Not even once. It’s quite beautiful.”

Nat, still standing behind you, huffs a rather obnoxious laugh that makes you jump a bit. “That’s because you’re never on campus, Sam. It’s a wonder to me that you manage to pass all of your classes.”

“Geniuses rarely have to try,” he retaliates, placing his elbow on the counter in front of him, resting his head condescendingly in his opened palm. “Which one of you ladies wants to give me the grand tour?”

“That’s a big fat hell no for me. Y/n, show the man around. I’ll take care of the front desk,” Nat says, logging herself back into her computer on the opposite end of yours. “But make it snappy. And don’t forget we’re closing early tonight! I want him out of here by 5:15 and not a second later.” she says with a cunning grin. 

You grab your coffee and walk around the other side of the counter, giggling as you get a look at Sam’s full outfit. He paired his rose patterned shirt with gray drawstring pants, covered in contrasting white stripes. 

 Sam matches your giggle, asking “What’s so funny?”

“Sammy,” you say through your almost uncontrollable chuckles, “you look like the fabric section of a craft store.”

Another boisterous laugh echoes from behind you, as Natalia chimes in with her agreement. 

Sam looks down at this outfit with knitted brows, smirking to himself while drawing a deep breath to say, “Well, jokes on you both. I happen to love the fabric section at craft stores.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“And this is my absolute favorite spot; the British Literature section.” You tug on Sammys arm to pull him closer as he smiles at your unbridled passion. “You’ll find all your British classics here. The Once and Future King, The Mists of Avalon, The Canterburry Tales,” You list them off as you read the titles off the exposed spines, stopping once you get to one you’re sure he’ll be intrigued by. “And, of course, The Adventures of Sir Lancelot The Great.” You pull the book from the shelf and flip through the first few pages, quickly noting the intense worn smell emitting from the bound paper. It’s clear that this book has been sitting here for quite some time. “God, I just love this smell. I could make a candle out of it.”

Sam gently takes it from your hands and takes a whiff himself, making a face that tells you he’s not as entranced by it as you are. “That’s an… interesting scent. Kind of smells like Jake’s musty room when we were growing up. Makes sense, with all of his old books he used to keep in there.”

No. Please don’t say that. 

“I know absolutely nothing about our beloved Sir Lancelot,” he continues, glancing at the words printed on the first page. “Well, other than what we see in the Monty Python masterpiece.” 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, The Holy Grail is, in fact, a masterpiece. You’re pretty sure you could quote the whole thing word for word.

“And,” he proceeds, “that he likes to bone the king's beautiful wife.” 

His eyes flick up from the book to meet yours. You can’t help the flush of pink that encompasses your cheeks upon his brash statement. (Or the heartbeat that is pounding at your very core.)

“I guess you could say that’s a pretty significant trait of his character,” you say, your soft tone cracking a little. 

He smiles at you as you smile back, quickly casting your eyes downward to avoid the prolonged contact that’s only intensifying the blood rushing to your face. 

You hear his feet shuffle a little closer to yours. That heartbeat you were feeling a second ago has now tripled. He gently takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, lifting it ever so softly so you have no choice but to look in his eyes. “Guiniverre could only wish to be as beautiful as you.” 

You move your glare to his lips, so soft and pink. You’ve lost count over how many times you’ve kissed them the past few months. How many times you’ve wished the camera wasn’t there during those moments. 

His gravity is pulling you closer to him, urging you to crash your lips with his in a kiss that would put everything you’ve ever done on camera to shame. 

But just as you’re about to…

“Sam? Y/n? Where the hell did you go?”

Natalia. Like clockwork. Here to ruin a special moment just as she did with Jake all those weeks ago when he saw you in the black lace gown for the first time. When she removed him from your sight. 

You curse under your breath, reluctantly stepping away from Sam as she stomps up the old wooden stairs and finds you both.

“You guys! I told you 5:15 and it’s…” she pauses to pull her phone from the back pocket of light wash mom jeans. “5:21! Sam, you need to leave. We have to close.” 

Sam hands you the book and you place it back in its designated spot.

“I can’t wait to hear more about his story,” he says as he walks away. 

“What? Whose story?” you ask absentmindedly. Your mind has become so jumbled with everything that transpired in the last few minutes, you’ve completely forgotten what you two had been talking about beforehand.

“Our good old Sir Lancelot. It’ll help me perfect his character on the screen, you know, like you said.” He throws you a little quick wink as he makes his way down the stairs, leaving you alone with Natalia. 

“Do I want to know what you two were doing up here?” she asks, her eyes opened wide and her hands settled on both of her hips.

You look back to the book you’d just put away, running your finger along the spine, stopping on the engraved Lancelot in gold lettering. “Just as he said,” you tell her. “We were talking about his character for the film.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

An air of confidence fills your lungs as you walk into Movack’s class. Finally your last midterm of the semester, and while the others haven’t gone as well as you’d hoped, you feel good about this one. 

This is the class you’ve felt the most prepared for. And admittedly, this is the one you’ve studied for the least. But, you feel you can get away with that. 

If there’s anything you’re sure of yourself in, it’s your knowledge of this lore. You’ve studied it on an academic and scholarly level for more than half of your life. Needless to say, you’re pretty well versed in it all. 

The only issue with this class: Jake.

He’s proven to be a bit distracting during quizzes, resulting in you receiving less than satisfactory grades. But you’ll be damned if you allow that any further. 

He’s disrupted things long enough since you’ve started classes, it’s time to forget about him once and for all and focus on what truly matters. 

He’s already seated in his spot, books opened flat on his desk as he does a little last minute reading before the exam begins. 

You don’t even look his way as you sit in your chair. You simply pretend he isn’t there, a method you’re planning to use for the entirety of his test. (And the rest of this semester, if you’re lucky.)

You sure as hell don’t smell his cologne, vanilla mixed with a musky sandalwood, that has bewitched you since the very day you met him. Nope.

And you certainly don’t care that he’s wearing a white button up that gorgeously flatters the leftover tan he still has from the summer. Or that he’s not wearing his John Lennon sunglasses that you’ve hated (sort of) for months now, allowing for you to see his sparkling, whiskey colored eyes underneath the shadow of his brown leather wide brimmed hat. 

No, you don’t care at all about these things. Your heart isn’t racing erratically at feeling his body heat radiate on you in the cold classroom from just how close your seats are.

Fuck. You can only tell yourself that for so goddamn long. And no matter how much you try to fill your head with other thoughts, when he’s sitting right next to you, drawing deep breaths as he’s focused on his reading, he’s the only one you can conjure up. 

Of course he would choose today to look the best he’s ever fucking looked. 

You hold your breath as you hear the clinking of his necklaces each time he moves to open and close his books, the ridiculous amount of silver charms he wears being one of your favorite things about him. 

He seems a bit flustered, sighing and anxiously rubbing his chin (a nervous habit, according to Josh) with each page he turns. 

Surely he’s not nervous for the exam…right? 

“The exam will begin in one minute. Please place any books you have under your chairs and silence all cell phones. The link to the exam has been sent to your school email through LockDown Browser. Please be sure all other tabs are closed as the system will not allow you to open the test otherwise,” Dr. Movack announces.

You tuck your bag beneath your chair and open your laptop, scrolling through your emails until you find the one from Dr. Movack for the test.

“Good luck,” Jake says in a monotone voice, still so alluring and sexy despite lack of tone.

He’s shocked you almost completely still as you sit there staring at the homescreen for the test. You don’t say anything just yet, giving yourself a moment to register that he actually spoke real words to you. Words that didn’t sound angry or annoyed for once. Something kind of sincere, even.

“Uh- yeah, you too,” you stumble in response. 

“The test will begin now,” says your professor. 

You try to read the first question, however your mind is turning it into a jumbled mess of incoherent words. You read it over a second time, slower to really focus on what it’s asking. 

But it’s no fucking use. 

Jake is clicking away at his keyboard, typing his answer with hardly a second thought it seems. You hear his silver bracelet (that you find rather appealing) hitting the side of his laptop and causing a hitch in your breath. 

The sound of his heavy breathing as he types should annoy you, but of course, it’s only affecting you further in your distraction. 

No. You need to focus.

You shake your head a little to snap yourself out of it, realizing it’s taken you more than two minutes to just read and comprehend the first question of the test. 

You're wasting time. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let this happen. 

In yet another attempt to reread the question, it finally proves worthy as your brain can make sense of it this time. 

Rank and briefly describe the Three Estates of medieval society. Then, describe their individual significance and contribution.

You rub your temple and your eyelids to relieve the tension before you begin writing out your answer, going as fast as you can as you’ve already wasted more than an appropriate amount of time on the very first question. 

As you type out your response, you can’t help but notice that Jake hasn’t stopped typing since this whole thing began. Curiosity has you wondering what question he’s on, since he’s clearly flying through this thing with absolutely no problem. 

You glance up at Dr. Movack to see him seated at his desk, eyes cast downward at his own computer. You then look around the room a bit, each student fully attentive to their own test. 

Turning your head to Jake, you sneak a look at his computer to see what question he’s on. 

Number five. Already. And you’re still stuck on the first one. Pathetic. 

As you turn your attention back to your screen, you hear someone clearing their throat rather loudly. But it’s not coming from just anyone, it’s coming from Dr. Movack. 

“Ms. Y/n.” His deep voice startles you, your body jolting a bit at the aggressive tone bouncing off the walls. He’s now standing at his podium, looking directly at you while every student follows in his suit with nosey eyes cast on you. “This is your first and final warning. Keep your eyes on your screen and off Mr. Kiszka’s, or you will leave my classroom and take a zero for the exam.” 

Great. He thinks you’re trying to fucking cheat. And so does everyone else in this goddamn class. 

You’re not cheating. Didn’t even think about cheating. But how the fuck do you even begin to defend yourself?

“Sir, I-I wasn’t-“ You trip and stutter your words, trying desperately to make yourself look any better than you do right now. But you quickly realize just how terrible it truly looks as you scan the room to see forty nine sets of eyes glaring at you, judging you. And yes, even Jake’s.

He abruptly cuts you off before you can somehow explain yourself. Although there’s really no good way to explain it. “I didn’t ask for a response. Cheating is strictly not tolerated here and you should find yourself awfully lucky that I’m letting you off with a warning.”

Lucky. That word isn’t even a part of your vocabulary these days.

You nod your head in understanding, shamefully setting your attention back to your laptop. But the words are even harder to read now, as you’re trying to comprehend them between welling tears sitting in your ducts. 

The humiliation is settling in as you’re trying to finish your exam, but it all feels in vain now. 

Everyone in here, including Jake, thinks you were cheating. On Jake’s test, no less. 

So much for your fucking method of pretending he isn’t there. In no way did you manage to be even remotely successful in that pursuit. 

And not only did you fail yourself in that aspect, but now the whole class, including Jake, knows it was his screen you were peering at.

Humiliated doesn’t even crack the surface. 

You can’t win in this class, nor can you win with fucking Jake. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Walking out of class feels like the ultimate walk of shame. Worse than a walk of shame. Like utter defeat— an ignominy.

The most painful part is this is now the third time you’ve been the center of attention in the class— for the worst reasons. 

And to add even more salt to the wound, you only received a sixty eight percent on the test. A fucking D. In the subject you’ve considered to be your best since you can remember. 

And it’s not for a lack of knowledge. It’s because of the string of shit luck and continuous distractions that seem to follow you as of late. 

The uncontrolled tears are soaking your cheeks as you speed walk down the halls of Angell Hall, considering never coming back as you run down the concrete steps outside. 

You heard footsteps following closely behind you, but you couldn’t be bothered to turn around to see who it was. In fact, you were hoping that whoever it was would just fucking give up and stop following you. You thought that if you ignored them long enough, they’d just give up. 

But, no. They followed you all the way out the door, and now you hear them continue down the fucking steps after you. Relentless. 

You stop on the last step, having every intention of turning around and giving whoever the fuck is behind you what for.

But just as you’re about to, you hear, “Y/n. Will you please talk to me?”

Of fucking course.

With the sleeves of your U of M hoodie, you wipe away the streaks of tears sitting on your face, looking at the black marks staining the cuffs from your running mascara. You don’t want him to know you’ve been crying, but the state of your makeup is most likely a dead giveaway and there’s not much you can do about it right now. 

You snap around to see him standing at the front door of the building, hands tucked loosely in the pockets of his blue patchwork pants.

“What, Jake? What is there to talk about?” you say, your voice quivering from the tightness in your throat.

He walks down to the step you’re standing on, and you catch his eyes widen at your confrontational tone before he takes his sunglasses from his breast pocket and places them on his face, tucking a few hairs behind his ear.

“Well, first,” he says, using his index finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose the rest of the way. “Movack can be rather gruff at times, so just turn a blind eye to him. But second, I just want to know why you were looking at my test. You’re smart as fuck with this stuff, I can’t fathom why you would need to read my answers.”

You’re struggling to think of an answer. You want to explain yourself, to defend yourself. But where do you even begin?

Do you tell him that you were so fucking distracted by him that you couldn’t focus, inevitably causing you to take far too long to answer even the simplest questions, and that you just wanted to see how far along on the test he was to compare to your sudden ineptitude?

No. Not a goddamn chance. While the whole thing looks terrible, you find the true reason behind it all to be much worse than the cheating allegations. 

“I wasn’t reading your answers, Jake.” Your voice is still restricted from the lump in your throat that just won’t go away. But you shove it down as much as you can. The only thing that would make this entire thing worse is to cry about it in front of him. “It wasn’t anything more than my eyes needing a break from my own screen for a tenth of a  second. Movack already has it out for me, so I’m sure he was eyeing me the whole time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.”

He chuckles softly to himself, and you can’t help but watch the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down. And his pretty smile that illuminates his entire face, his cheekbones sitting high atop his glowing features… it sends an electric shock to your heart. You don’t get to see him smile nearly enough, and you wish so much that you did.

“You’re probably right about that one,” he agrees. “I swear Movack picks and chooses students each semester to single out. And you made it easy on him with those first few days in class.” 

There’s his sweet smile again, prompting goosebumps to rise on your skin and forcing out a smile of your own. 

You can’t tell if he’s being genuine or not; being the utter enigma that he is makes him incredibly difficult to read. 

And after hearing him angrily spit out his true feelings for you a few weeks ago, your brain won’t let you forget his harsh words. Of course, he doesn’t know that you heard. And you’ll continue to act as if you don’t know.

But, knowing what he said makes you wonder if anytime he’s being “sincere,” it’s just a facade. 

Still yet, you’re appreciative of the fact that he’s not outright accusing you. Almost coming to your defense, even. Not only that, but he sort of complimented your knowledge and academic abilities. 

At this point, you’ll take whatever you can get from him. 

“If you have any tips on how to survive his class the last half of the semester, I’m all ears,” you tell him, nervously twirling a strand of your hair  between your fingers. This is the closest you feel you’ve ever gotten to a ‘normal’ conversation with him. 

“At this point,” He places his hand on your shoulder, gripping it tight. You don’t even notice the breath you sucked in at his touch, feeling like you’ve suddenly forgotten how to blow it back out. “you’ll have to go above and  beyond to put yourself in his good graces.” 

He wraps up his advice with a soft squeeze of your shoulder before he steps down onto the sidewalk.  

“Above and beyond?” you repeat, matching his tone with an added sarcasm. “Got it. No problem.”

Although it would be a lot easier if you weren’t there to distract me. 

“You can do it,” he says as he’s beginning to walk away, adjusting his leather satchel over his shoulder. “Remember how you put me in my place on the first day?” he recalls through a laugh. “Yeah, just keep doing that.”

You dramatically cringe at the memory of your first day of classes, not really in the mood to ponder that mess just yet.

But he is right. That’s the only memory you have of Movack actually being somewhat kind to you.

“Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t have any problem doing that,” you say with a devious smile.

“That’s only if I let you do it,” he remarks with a smirk as he’s already halfway down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow.” 

Your tummy immediately fills with butterflies as you watch him saunter away. You weren’t sure how to feel about him being a decent human being… you just know you wanted more of it. More of the Jake you’d come to fantasize about from time to time in your cluttered mind. 

Like the one who throws one more small (devastatingly handsome) smile over his shoulder at you, still standing in the same place where he’d left you, before he turns the next corner.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Filming has just ended for the night. Jake filmed one scene and left just as you arrived for your shots, so it’s just been you, Josh, Sam and Malachi for the better half of the evening.. Things tend to go much more smoothly with this crew; you quite enjoy nights like these. 

You’re seated on their fluffy beige couch in the living room next to Sam, Josh and Malachi perched on the opposite end. With filming ending a bit earlier than usual, (given that Jake wasn’t here to cause any delay with his constant arguing) you’ve got a little time to sit around and enjoy a movie with everyone. 

Josh did ask everyone what they wanted to watch, however it’s clear he never intended to let anyone's preference determine what would actually be viewed. 

Once he turned on the television, he’d already had A Clockwork Orange queued up on the roku— it appears it was predestined for that to be tonight's film of choice. Not that you’re complaining, though. You do rather enjoy the madness that is this classic Kubrick film.

You’re no more than thirty seconds in the beginning of the movie when Josh says, “You know, Kubrick never really wanted to make this film. He thought the book was a yawn fest when it was presented to him. Just didn’t find much interest in it.” 

Sam and Malachi basically ignore him, merely nodding their heads while their eyes stay fixed on the blue lit screen. 

Still yet, he continues. “It was only when he imagined Alex being played by Malcom McDowell that he decided it’d be worth a shot. Can you believe McDowell didn’t even know who Kubrick was? He’d seen 2001: A Space Odyssey, obviously, but didn’t know Kubrick by name. It’s mind blowing, truly.”

Now that is a fact you most certainly did not know. And being the massive Kubrick fan you are, you’re surprised you didn’t know that. 

“Wait, really?” you ask with genuine curiosity to discover more that he might know. 

Sam places a hand on your knee and squeezes ever so gently. “Don’t encourage him, y/n. Or he’ll never stop,” he says with a half grin. 

From where you’re seated, you can see Josh’s face perfectly. And even with nothing but the bright screen illuminating him, you see him roll his eyes and toss his hand in Sam’s direction. 

“Yes, really! Isn’t that wild?” Josh proceeds despite Sam’s interjection. “I bet you also didn’t know that his nod to Gene Kelly was improvised.”

“It was?” you respond with a bit more shock in your tone than you had wanted. You can’t help it; this stuff fascinates you. 

“Indeed my dear, it was. Kubrick directed him to do anything that would serve as a major contrast to the violent and sinister nature of the scene, told him to dance around or something. So, that’s exactly what he did. Took one of the most convivial moments in cinematic history and turned it into an example of Hollywood’s gift of euphoria, using it  against the very corporation it came from.” 

“How on earth do you know all of this, Josh?” you question.

“Because he spends all of his time studying this useless stuff,” Malachi jokes. He pulls Josh in by the shoulders and hugs him tight to his chest while they both bust up in a fit of laughter.

“Watch the hair, please!” Josh says, his voice muffled by Malachi's shirt.

You’ve truly come to admire their relationship over the short time you’ve known them. The love they have for one another and the love they each give to everyone around them, so selflessly and without condition— they are just wonderful, beautiful people.

You still can’t help but question how Jake carries the same DNA in his body as Josh, because they are so vastly different from each other. 

The movie continues while Josh throws in a few more tidbits, piquing your interest and subsequently annoying Sam. (That’s almost more entertaining than the movie.)

Sam seems to be a little antsy. Antsy over something else other than his older brother talking away about mindless things. 

You’ve noticed him glancing your way periodically out of your peripheral, and he keeps taking a breath as if he wants to say something but stops before he gets a word out. 

You can’t take it any longer. “You okay, Sammy?” you ask in a hushed voice, trying not to disturb Josh and Malachi. 

“Y- yeah, I’m okay,” he whispers. But you know better. Something is plaguing him, and you will get to the bottom of it. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, a little bit of inflection on the last word.

He nods his head and hums in confirmation, setting his eyes back on the sci-fi film while you shrug him off and do the same.

As many times as you’ve seen this movie, you still can’t help but cringe during the infamous torture scene. 

You verbally express your disgust over the torture being inflicted on Alex, holding your hands over your face and barely peeking through the space between your fingers. 

The guys all snicker at your squeamish recoil, opting to watch you versus the movie as your reaction is probably more riveting than the horrid images on the screen. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The early evening has now cast a full, lunar glow as time has drawn on with the movie now running its ending credits. 

Josh and Malachi have long since fallen asleep, cuddled up in an impressive knot together. 

You peel yourself up off the soft cushion and stretch your stiffened limbs as Sam remains tucked deep between the pillows, still awake as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone as you suddenly remember you haven’t checked yours since filming came to an end hours ago.

You reach in your bag to fish it out, only to find that the battery is now completely dead. 

“Shit,” you mumble more to yourself than anything else. 

Your mind is instantly filled with the worst case scenario. Is your mother okay? What might have happened in the time between your phone dying and now? If she was in trouble, there is no way you would’ve known. 

“You okay?” Sam hushes from his cocoon in the couch, lifting up a bit as you give him a sideways glance. 

You had just tried to turn your phone on, to no avail. Only being met with the red battery telling you that you’re shit out of luck. Deciding to play it off, you do your best to not overthink it as you toss your phone back in your bag. 

You feel your heart plummet with the phone the slightest bit. “Y-yeah,” you stutter, keeping your tone quiet for the sleeping lovers. You throw a thumb towards the door, connecting your eyes with his again. His expression is so concerned, his eyes mimic that of a baby calf. “I’ve just gotta go. Just a grade I’ve been dying to check and my phone is dead,” you lie through your teeth, starting to head to the door.

But just as you get to the door, his hand is over yours on the handle. Your heart rate admittedly speeds up at the proximity. Cute, sweet guy who you’ve been sitting closely with all night? Touching your hand? 

You turn your head back and upwards to get a look at where he is standing behind you. 

“Let me walk you out,” he offers, his tone kind but leaving no room for argument. “I don’t like the idea of you being out there at night by yourself.”

Little does he know where I fucking live. This place is nothing. 

But, again, you play it off. Company on the way to the car wouldn’t be bad.

“Okay,” you grin. And he’s so close, you can’t help but blush as you open the door under his hand, still covering yours. 

Once you get out to your car, you’ve built up a little bit of nervous energy from Sammy following you out. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a bit of a crush, and having him so near was doing funny things to your heart. 

You turn to the driver’s side door and go to put your key in the lock. 

“Thanks for walking me out, Sam,” you look over your shoulder, trying your best to look as cute as possible in front of your beat up, jank-ass car. “I really loved hanging out with you tonight,” then you turn back to open the door. “Have a good night, Sa—.”

“Wait—,” you hear him say, his voice anxious. You follow the tone of his voice, and turn to face him front on. You can’t help the grin that flutters to your features as you wait for him to finish. “I’ve—I’ve actually been wanting to ask you something. I just wasn’t sure how to do it, but— fuck it. Do you want to go out this weekend? With all of us, I mean. Well, with me, but everyone else will be there too.” he utters, stumbling all over himself as he does so. “Josh wants to have a party here with all of the cast and crew to celebrate being halfway done with the film, and then we’ll all go out afterwards. Well, just my brothers and I. Of course Malachi will come. And you, I hope.” He’s spitting this all out so quickly, it’s like whiplash trying to keep up with everything he’s saying. 

He seems…nervous? That is quite shocking to you given how close you two have been for filming. He seems to never have an issue in those circumstances. He’s incredibly confident and sure of himself while he kisses you like no one has ever kissed you before. All for the sake of a silly college project. 

You smile at him and grab his hand before you respond, attempting to reassure him and make him feel more comfortable. “I’d love to, Sammy.” 

You can visibly see the anxiety wash away from his body as he relaxes a bit, loosening  his stiffened posture. “Great! How do you feel about haunted houses?”

“Haunted houses?” you question. “Like, spook houses?”

Your Oklahoma is showing, y/n.

Sam chuckles, “I forget you’re from down yonder,” he jokes with the worst fake southern accent you’re sure ever heard. “Yeah, like those. We go every year to them, kind of an annual ritual for my brothers and I. I’d really, really love it if you joined us this year. It’s a blast. That's what we’re planning on doing after the party. There’s a new one we’re wanting to try out for size.”

You’ve been so caught up in the chaos of everything consuming your life at the moment that you’d completely forgotten that Halloween is this weekend. Time has utterly flown by since your move. It still feels as though you’ve just begun classes at the U of M only days ago, when in fact, it’s been months since the semester started. 

“God, I haven’t gone to a spook hou– sorry, haunted house, in years.” you tell him. 

His face scrunches up in a tenderhearted grin at your correction. 

“It’s a date, then!” he exclaims with an enthusiasm that swarms your belly with tiny butterflies. 

He opens your car door a little wider as you climb yourself in the driver's seat. “It’s a date,” you repeat through a full toothed smile. He matches your grin as he gently shuts your door, bidding you a farewell with a sweet salute. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Each outfit you put on just doesn’t flatter you in the slightest. Every shirt is either too tight or too low cut, each pair of jeans has a weird gap in the crotch, your leggings only look good with a baggy sweater. And even though that’s your go-to comfort outfit, that is not the vibe you're going for tonight. 

No; you have to look damn good tonight. You want to look good for Sam, for him to see you in something cute that’s not just a film costume. (But there’s also the incessant part of you that desperately wants to impress Jake, too. And your usual attire just won’t do the trick.)

You dig through to the deepest crevices of your closet in hopes to find something that looks good, but also makes you feel confident in your body. 

The only thing you do feel confident in these days is your seductive wardrobe for the film. But, for obvious reasons, you can’t wear those to the party or the spook house. That is not the kind of attention you’re attempting to draw this evening. 

You stumble upon a black velvet skirt, short with a small slit on the left thigh. You’ve never worn it. You bought it years ago for a reason that you can’t seem to remember at the moment. But it’s managed to withstand the multiple closet purges you’ve done over the years, so part of you has clearly always thought it would come in handy at some point. 

Holding it up to your hips, you figure it’ll probably still fit. (Fingers and toes crossed that it does.)

It’s supposed to be a bit chilly out tonight, so you rummage through the second drawer in your dresser for the pair of  black tights you have tucked away at the very bottom under all of your other undergarments. 

You sit on your bed as you pull the tights over your calf, up to your thigh before repeating the same thing on the other leg, standing up to awkwardly pull them the rest of the way up over your hips and ass, covering the cute black boy shorts you chose to wear underneath that match your black t-shirt material bra. These particular tights have some serious tummy control— something you’re quite grateful for. 

Now, for the brutal moment of truth. Will the skirt fit?

You certainly hope so. Trying on anything can be incredibly difficult for you. You live in fear that nothing will fit you. Too big or too small, it doesn’t matter. Dealing with the size of your body in any aspect is paralyzing and far too triggering. So, doing this right now is a massive step for you. But, if it fits, it’ll be worth it. 

You undo the zipper on the back and step into the skirt on one foot at a time, sucking your stomach in fiercely as you zip it back up at your waist and clasp the small hook and eye at the top. 

As you let out the breath you’d been holding, you’re delightfully shocked to find that the skirt fits. Not too tight, not too loose— it’s perfect. A wonderful surprise that you truthfully weren’t expecting.

You walk over to your small vanity to take a look in the mirror sitting on top of the white wooden table. You bend down a bit to get a better look at the skirt, and holy hell. 

Your ass looks fantastic. And the little slit sitting on your left thigh is tastefully sexy as hell. The tights were a great choice as they make your legs look smooth and complement the black velvet beautifully. 

Now, to find the right top. 

Giant sweaters are your comfort, but you’re feeling like trying something a little different tonight. 

You have a dark gray, long sleeved mock neck that’s been hidden away almost as long as your skirt has. The fit of it has always given you wild amounts of anxiety. It’s tight. Like, skin tight. Yet, it’s remained part of your wardrobe for a long ass time. So, why not give it a try? You’re feeling a little more brave at the moment, and it might surprise you just as the skirt did. 

Shifting through the hangers holding your shirts, you finally find it. Still brand new with the tags. You can’t remember why you bought this, either. Perhaps past you was looking out for future you to have something hot to wear on this very night? Who the hell knows. 

You rip the tags off of it, figuring it’s probably much too late to return it now. You stretch out the mock neck a bit before pulling it on over your head, smoothing it over your breasts and down your stomach, tucking the length into your skirt and tights. 

You adjust the arms a bit, feeling a tinge of apprehension at just how snugly the material is clinging to your biceps. A body part of yours that you’re not so keen on accentuating. 

But as you take a look in the mirror, you’re shocked yet again— over just how good this looks on you, too. The tight-fitting fabric is actually doing you a lot of favors, particularly in the region of your breasts. 

The shirt isn’t cut in a way that would show any cleavage, but the way it fits around them emphasizes their shape, making them look rather perky as they sit perfectly upon your chest. 

The whole outfit is flattering you in ways you’ve never explored. The anxiety about trying something so far outside of your comfort is still ever present, but as of late, you’ve convinced yourself that it’s okay to do that every once in a while. 

You’re tired of being trapped in the prison cell that is your self conscious brain. It’s time to break free, and the confidence that filming has brought to you feels like the very key to unlocking the bars that keep your thoughts in confinement. And so does this moment as you’re seeing yourself in yet another new light. It makes you feel utterly silly for feeling as shitty as you always have. 

You glance at your phone to check the time, and you still have over an hour until you have to be at their apartment. You’re thankfully making good time, so you have plenty to dedicate to your hair and makeup to perfect it. 

You decide to throw a few loose curls in your hair, letting the waves fall around your face to frame it. Keeping your makeup a bit on the light side, you choose to go with a small, subtle black wing and black mascara to accent your eyes. You decide on a daring red lip, but not just any red lip– the same shade of red you’ve been wearing while you’re portraying the highly coveted Guiniverre. You grin as you swipe the scarlet color across your lips, thinking back to all the times it’s become smeared on yours and Sammy’s. The giggles that you two have broken out in over the mess you’ve created on his face. 

Digging through your jewelry box, you find some silver and gold chains you like to pair together. You place them meticulously around your neck, making sure they’re stacked to perfection. Then a pair of big hoop earrings that show beautifully through the loose curls around your face.

But just as you’re closing the lid to the floral painted ceramic box, something catches your eye. 

A little golden charm in the shape of a heart with your initial engraved on it. Your fifteenth birthday gift from your dad. You used to wear it every single day, up until the very day he walked out of your life for good. 

You threw it away that day. Tossed in the garbage the second you realized what he had done. 

While you’re not entirely sure how it made its way to Michigan with you, you’re willing to bet your mom dug through the trashcan to salvage it for you, hiding it in your box for you to discover later on. 

As much as you’ve struggled to contrive a single memory of your dad that doesn’t involve him leaving, looking at the necklace has your mind venturing back to the moment he gave it to you. Wrapped up so elegantly in a red velvet bag, with a letter from him that told you the story behind your name, how he chose it special after his grandmother that helped raise him when his parents gave him up. (Seems a little ironic.) 

You suddenly begin to panic. Where did that letter end up? Did you throw it away, too? God, you really hope you didn’t. But it seems like something you definitely may have done in the midst of your unforgiving anger with him.

But you loved that story. You used to make him tell you about your name all the time, and having it written down in his handwriting was something you held rather close to your heart until he up and left.

You start scrambling, pulling your tangled jewelry out in handfuls to see if it’s buried in there, but it’s no use. It’s not here, and you truly feel in your heart that it’s somewhere in the landfills of Cherry Tree, Oklahoma. Disintegrated to near nothing. 

It breaks your heart to think of it in that state. But maybe it’s for the better. Maybe that’s the universe trying to tell you that it was meant to stay back in Oklahoma with the life you no longer have with him. 

One thing is for sure, there’s no use in shedding tears over it. It’s in the past, and that’s probably the best place for it. 

You check your phone once more, realizing that you have to leave in no less than twenty minutes if you want to be there on time. 

You begin rushing around, looking for your black thigh length leather jacket (faux, of course) that you know will match your outfit perfectly. 

You find it buried under a few other coats on the shelf of your closet. You swiftly grab it and start heading out of the door of your bedroom, realizing that you’re still clutching the heart necklace in your right hand’s grip.

Mindlessly, you slowly place it around your neck, lining it up with your others so it sits in just the right place. You hold tight to the engraved charm, swiping your thumb over the initial a few times, just as you always did for comfort  in the years that it was worn.

The comforting feeling is still there, strangely. Everything has changed since you last wore this, yet somehow it all feels the same. 

The memories start to flood back like a tsunami, but you don’t have time for them right now. You don’t want to overwhelm yourself with it all. Wearing the necklace is just one step towards forgiveness, and that’s all you have the mental capacity for at the moment.

Throwing your jacket on your shoulders, you walk down the hallway to the living room to search for your purse and keys. 

Your mom is seated on the couch, watching her favorite television show and cleaning up the plate of food you made her. She starts to get up to take her dishes to the kitchen, but you stop her before she can stand all the way.

“Let me get that, mom.” You take them from her,  rinsing them off in the kitchen sink before placing them in the dishwasher. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with me gone for so long?” 

Tonight will be the longest you’ll be gone from her since you made the move, and the worry sitting on your heart is almost too heavy for you to truly feel okay with leaving her tonight. 

Your biggest fear is playing over and over in your head like a damaged record. But when you told her about tonight, she wouldn’t accept anything less than you going and having a great time. 

“You look beautiful, sweetie. Does my poor heart some good to see you like this,” she says as you saunter your way back into the living room to meet her warm, smiling face. “And I told you, honey. I will be fine. Don’t you dare fret about me tonight.”

Triple checking that all of her nighttime medications are out and within her reach, you also take a moment to check that her oxygen tank is full and that her mask is nearby should she need it.

“Y/n.” She takes your hand away from the tank and pulls it close to her. “I am just fine. Now get on out of here and enjoy yourself, sweet pea.”

She pats the back of your hand with her other, something she’s done since you were a child. 

“Okay, mom,” you utter through a deep sigh. “But please promise you’ll call me if you need me for anything, okay?”

She nods her head in agreement, sending you a warm smile yet again as she lets go of you and softly nudges you in the direction of the front door.

“Love you, mom,” you tell her as you step through the threshold. 

“Love you more, y/n.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You nervously pull your car in the lot of their complex. It’s been clanking around more than usual tonight and there’s an odd smell emitting from the engine. You’re counting your lucky stars that you’ve made it here in one piece. You’re hoping that having it sit and rest for a while is just what it needs. 

Your dad was always your right hand in fixing any issue that arose with your old piece of junk. Without him, you don’t even know where to begin. What shops to take it to, who will overcharge you and who won’t. Car mechanics are a foreign concept to you.

He even promised you a new one by the end of your junior year. It’s a pretty safe bet that that won’t be happening. 

Josh answers the door before your fist even collides with it. “Y/n, my sweet dove! I’m so happy to see you!” he exclaims, clearly more than a few drinks in as he holds one tightly in his hand.

He practically pulls you into their home, wrapping you in a Josh-famous hug while nearly spilling his glass filled to the brim with some stout, honey colored liquid. The same one that you smelled on his breath as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Joshua!” you huff, laughing at his loose state. “The night has barely begun and you’re already drunk?”

“Ah, yes! The night is still young, and there’s plenty more trouble to get into!” 

Your hand covers the sound of the giggle that erupts from you. “It sounds like you’ve gotten into enough already, Josh,” you say through your fingers.

His drink meets your empty hand in a clumsy ‘cheers,’ a few drops of his drink landing on your skin before he lifts his glass to take a big swig.

“The queen is here, everyone!” he shouts while stumbling through the crowded living room. You cringe at the sudden influx of eyes staring at you from Josh (loudly) announcing your arrival. 

You flash an uncomfortable smile, waving stiffly at everyone while you take your jacket off and hang it on the coat-stand in the corner of the foyer. 

“The queen, the queen!” Sammy roars from the kitchen, setting his glass down on the granite before swiftly padding  his way across the living space to meet you. He instantly envelopes you in a warm, soft hug, digging his chin in your shoulder. His coarse facial hair tickles your neck as you playfully squirm away from his embrace.

He takes a step back, amorous eyes flicking up and down your form. “You look intoxicatingly lovely tonight,” he whispers, taking your hand as he gives the tops of your knuckles a quick peck. 

Although he’s not quite as inebriated as his older brother, you can tell he’s had at least a few. Enough to sustain a pretty decent buzz. So, you don’t think his actions are completely due to the alcohol. Perhaps a bit, though. 

“Come with me,” Sam says while he drags you by the same hand his lips just met. “Your lack of beverage is deeply concerning.”

As he leads you to the kitchen, your eye is caught by Jake standing by the array of finger foods intricately splayed out on huge charcuterie boards. 

And fuck, does he look sexy as hell. 

His dark beige collared jacket over his loose, worn white t-shirt is something brand new to you, and his denim button up tied around his waist above his black skinny jeans shouldn’t be nearly as inviting as it is. 

You instantly notice the slightly cropped nature of his top, revealing just enough skin. Even the slightest vision of his lower stomach has your head spinning. 

But then you realize… he’s not alone.

And she’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. 

Her sun bleached hair falls just below her impossibly tiny waist. Her green eyes are complemented beautifully by her mulberry sweater, the deep neckline emphasizing her perfect breasts.  

He’s smiling, laughing, and she’s laughing right along with him, making doe eyes as he talks to her. She’s holding some bright pink concoction, of which she’s taking the daintiest sips, never breaking contact with his eyes.

You’ve never seen him so outgoing, so talkative. And it’s all thanks to her.

Sam notices your stare in their direction, and switches directions so you’re now heading towards them. 

“I don’t think you two have properly met!” Sam interjects. “Y/n, this is Stacy. She’s playing the woman that steals your man.” 

He laughs ridiculously loud at his own joke, obviously not understanding where your mind is at all. (How could he possibly know? But, still. Poor taste, Sam.)

She is Stacy. Of course she is. 

You’d heard about Stacy, but you hadn’t met her yet. All you knew was that she was the one cast as Camille, Arthur’s very own secret lover who will later turn out to be as evil as Morgan le Fey herself.

Nat has mentioned her briefly, telling you that she’s “kind of a moron, but a fantastic actress,” whatever the hell that means.

Her availability has been much different than yours for filming, so your paths have yet to cross. And since Josh has a strict ‘no pre-edit viewing’ rule, you haven’t seen any of her scenes with Jake.

And part of you isn’t entirely sure you want to. With how titillating your scenes with Sam have been, and the rather exposed nature of your own costuming, your wandering mind can only imagine how similar Jake's scenes are with Stacy and the costumes they’ve chosen for her. 

The script you possess only includes scenes with you, so you haven’t even been able to read any of Jake’s that don’t include you, which also means you haven’t even read any of hers.

You’d already made it up in your mind that she was probably quite beautiful. That Jake probably believes she’s quite beautiful, too. 

And you were unfortunately right. She’s a fucking goddess. You can’t hold a candle to her. And given the way Jake is looking at her, it’s safe to assume that he would agree.

Does he feel the same things for her that you feel for Sam? Why does it seem he gives her the attention you so desperately crave from him? Is she the reason why he has next to nothing to do with you?

It shouldn’t matter to the extent that it unfortunately does, but the thoughts are deafening nonetheless. 

You’re jealous. And there’s no reason to be jealous, but you can’t begin to help it.

Out of instinct, you bring your arms up to fold them over your chest. You suddenly feel like hiding once again. 

The thrumming bass from the loud music is keeping perfect time with the amplified beating of your heart.

Why do you have to care so much?

You swallow it all down, breaking free from your thoughts to be cordial with her. Because she has yet to give you a reason not to be, and you don’t want to be that jealous bitch.

“Hi, Stacy!” you exclaim with a forced smile and a reach of your hand to shake with hers. “It’s so great to finally meet you.”

She disregards your outstretched hand, opting to pull you in for an unexpected hug in lieu and nearly causing you both to topple over.

She smells fucking incredible. Like fresh cherries and oranges. 

She breaks from the hug, still grasping hold of each of your shoulders as you’re standing completely stiff in shock over the way she’s greeting you, as if she’s known you all her life.

With a giant smile, (displaying her perfectly white, straight teeth) she says, “I am so happy to see you! The boys have told me so much about you— well, mostly Sammy. He told me you’re a super awesome actress and has gone on and on about how pretty you are.”

Sam wraps his arm around your waist, giggling and blushing at her statement. You find his sudden onset of embarrassment to be absolutely adorable. You catch yourself smiling at the thought of him speaking of you in such a way. His sweetness more than makes up for the lack thereof from his older brother, who is standing stiff as a board behind Stacy. 

His eyes flick to yours, and they burn a hole through your own gaze before they land on Sam’s arm that’s hugged tightly to your body. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches before he gives Sam a look that you’re pretty sure could actually murder him if it were possible.

You can’t discern how he’s feeling, but whatever is on his mind, he certainly does not appear to be happy about it. 

You look up to Sam to see that he’s staring right back at Jake, even throwing him a sly wink before Jake abruptly walks away from the three of you without a single word.

What the fuck is his problem now?

You all stand there in silence for a moment, Stacy’s head quickly whipping around in the direction he left in.

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat to draw the attention elsewhere. “I’ve heard plenty of wonderful things about you also, Stacy. I am so excited to see you in the film. I bet you’re absolutely great!” You’re more so telling her this in an effort to relieve the tension that Jake so lovingly left behind.

She smiles before taking a few sips of her drink, licking the rememints off her full, rose colored lips. “Jake is just a dream to work with. He’s so patient and kind with me. And he’s just the sweetest guy! When he asked me to come to the party tonight, there was no way I could say no.” 

No. There’s no way she’s using ‘patient’ and ‘kind’ to describe the same Jake that’s been a rude, arrogant pain in your side for the past few months. He is most definitely not the ‘sweetest guy.’

You’re practically biting your tongue in half to stop yourself from saying anything. 

Why the hell has he been treating her so much better than you? What is so special about her that you’re lacking?

Well, aside from her Barbie-like beauty. That is something you can’t compare to, sadly. You’ll never equate to girls that carry her kind of flawless, graceful allure. 

And that is probably why you don’t receive the same respect as her. It makes perfect sense.

What a vain, fucking asshole.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You’ve been subtly eyeing them all night, watching as they’ve kept themselves tucked away together in a desolate corner of the living room, completely separated from the rest of the party.

He’s been ogling the hell out of her while she rambles on and on, talking his ear off for what feels like hours. (About something mindless and irrelevant, you’re sure.)

But whatever it is has acquired his full attention as they’ve basically not lost sight of one another since the night began. (Aside from the numerous times you’ve caught him glancing your way tonight. Maybe this outfit was a good idea.)

Sammy thankfully hasn’t taken notice of your wandering eyes. In fact, he’s been just as glued to you as the two of them seem to be. 

And if you’re honest, he’s been a welcome diversion. 

The drinks have made him a little extra clingy to you, and even more complimentary, as if that were even possible.

You’re asking yourself yet again why you care so fucking much about what Jake is doing, when you have Sam practically falling all over himself for you. (Almost literally, thanks to the alcohol flowing freely through his system.)

You’re still working on your first drink that Josh mixed for you, and you now know what Malachi meant when he told you to beware of an infamous Josh cocktail. There’s just a hint of lime juice swimming in an endless sea of Camarena tequila. (A Kiszka staple, you’ve come to find.) 

You can only sip on it gingerly as a full gulp would probably cause your blood alcohol levels to rise rather quickly, so taking it slow is necessary. 

“I think I’ll go pour myself another refreshment. Anything I can get you?” Sammy asks, effectively pulling your attention away from them again for the umpteenth time tonight. (Thank god he hasn’t noticed.)

“I think I’m good. Thank you, though.”

He gives you an inquisitive look as he downs the last few drops of what's left of his drink. “And you’re sure you don’t want something to eat? There’s plenty up there.”

You’ve turned down his offer at least three times now. He’s been questioning you all night about eating, but you just can’t right now. 

The fear of becoming bloated while in an outfit as tight as this, clinging to every square inch of your body, is far too great to allow yourself to indulge. 

If you want to look good, especially around the likes of Stacy, food is out of the question for tonight.

“I ate with my mom before I came over, so I’m really not very hungry.” That’s a lie. And you hate to lie to him, to anyone. But you don’t want to be tempted by him bringing you a plate of food. You’ve hardly stepped foot in the kitchen for that very reason. 

He just smiles and says “okay” as he stands up from the couch to grab his refill, leaving you sitting there by yourself. 

Normally you’d be grateful for the moment of solitude amongst the wild party goers as they dance and galavant around. 

But all it’s doing is setting your attention right back on Jake, who’s still conversing with Stacy. 

Only now, it’s much worse. 

Your stomach tightens and drops when you see him mindlessly run the backs of his fingers up and down her forearm, landing loosely on her waist as their proximity has become even closer somehow. 

You shouldn’t care. You really shouldn’t fucking care. But goddamnit— how you wish it were you. 

You’ve told yourself over and over again to let go of this idea that he could ever possibly like you. It’s pointless, useless. He’s made it plenty well known that he isn’t and never will be interested. 

But suddenly, he makes eye contact with you again as he’s wrapped up with her, and she doesn’t notice. She just keeps talking to him as if he were still listening.

But you can tell he’s not. His eyes are tightly fixed with yours, and this time, neither one of you are quick to break the contact. 

There’s close to twenty people between the two of you, yet they all suddenly disappear. The music has turned into a muffled, incoherent beat. It’s as though you’re both standing on either end of a tunnel, the rest of the world stuck on the outside, unbeknownst to what’s occurring beyond the cylinder walls that encompass only you and Jake.

Your trance is broken by Stacy taking hold of his face and turning it back towards her. You can’t hear what she says, but based on the movement of her lips, you’ve gathered it was something along the lines of, ‘who were you looking at?’ 

She turns her head in your direction, looking around intently to answer her own question.

But she doesn’t look at you. Because in her mind, why would Jake ever look at you when she, perfect and beautiful as can be, is standing right in front of him?

No. She’d never suspect it.

And maybe she’s right, anyway. You turn to look behind you to see a slew of beautiful girls standing close by. Friends of some of the crew for the film, you assume. 

He was probably just looking at them. Not you.

Never you.

You feel the couch cushion sink in next to you with Sammy sitting back down, clutching his newly fresh drink, completely oblivious to everything happening within your mind.

You suddenly feel your phone vibrate from your purse, and you unlock the screen to see a text message from Natalia.

It’s suddenly registered with you that she isn’t here yet, which isn’t like her to be late to anything.

Nat: “So, about tonight…”

You: “Are you okay?? Where are you, dude?”

Nat: “I *may* have a date planned, & I *may* not be making it to the party because of said date. ;)”

You: “A date?? With?? SPILL IT!”

Nat: “A certain curly headed boy who was also supposed to be there tonight. :p Any guesses?”

You glance around the room to determine who should be here but isn’t.

You still don’t know very many people in this town just yet, so the possibilities of who it could be are rather limited. 

It clearly isn’t Sammy. And it most definitely isn’t Jake or Josh.

Then, it hits you.

Daniel. Sammy’s best friend who has been nowhere to be found all night, who was most definitely supposed to be here.

You’ve loved getting to know him over the last few months. Everything runs extra smoothly when he’s around to help with the camera work, and he serves as the best mediator for the twins. (And Sam when he’s feeling extra ruthless.) Fights are almost non-existent when his presence is looming.

And he is absolutely sexy as fuck. The tallest of all the boys, and the most muscular. 

With Nat’s unmatched beauty along with her kind heart, the two of them would make the most ideal, movie worthy couple.

You’re sad she won’t be here tonight, but the thought of her going out with Danny has you far too excited to care. She deserves this.

You: “Danny?? SHUT THE HELL UP? I’m so happy for you!”

Nat: “Maaaaybe. ;) I’ll keep you updated! Sorry for ditching you tonight, love you & have fun!”

You: “You’re such a shit. Love you!”

“What are you so smiley about?” Sam asks, nudging your shoulder playfully with his as you grin at your phone. 

You lift up your screen to show him, his smile matching yours once he discovers what has you so giddy,

“No fucking way!” he shouts, taking your phone from your hand to get a better look at the messages. “He’s been wanting to ask her out for ages. Way to finally grow some balls, Daniel!”

Sinking into the cushions a little further, you accept your fate of not having Nat with you for the night. You’re going to miss her. You are not sure how you’re going to make it without her perfectly timed buffering. And tonight of all nights is the one where you need her as a distraction. A distraction from the continuously ridiculous display that Jake and Stacy are giving with their secret giggles in the corner. 

Next to you, Sammy’s small, drawn out cackle pulls you back. It brings a small smile to your face as it’s an honestly endearing sound–reminiscent of a laugh influenced by weed. You’ve gotten used to hearing it often, as Sam is always laughing if there’s a laugh to be had. 

He’s a good distraction. A good buffer. You’ll have him to lean on all night. You’re assured of this as he looks down at you with his big, beautiful, deep brown eyes. He’s pulling you in, making you feel safe in this overly crowded room. 

But another drink would be nice. Just to alleviate any tension that could unintentionally make its way into your muscles. It’s a humongous risk as Jake and Stacy leave their cocoon in the corner to make their way back to the kitchen. 

Yeah, you don’t want to go back there. You need a drink, but you don’t want to accidentally see them canoodling when that’s the last thing you want to be privy to. The drink’s a necessity, though, you realize as you already feel irritation flare in your veins at the thought. 

“You need something, hun?” Sam asks. 

You bring your eyes, zoning out on nothing, back to him. God, he’s so sweet. Why can’t he be the Kiszka you want most?

Not knowing what else to say or do, you figure asking him to run to the kitchen for you might be a good idea. You need the alcohol, and he would surely love to help. Perfect combo.

“I need a drink,” you say, a shy smile taking over your features. “And I’m too comfy to get up.”

You really feel bad making him be your errand boy. Especially when his face lights up at the prospect of possibly helping you. 

“Yeah!” He eagerly responds, getting up in no time. “Whaddya want? Mixed? Beer? Wine?”

“Glass of wine, maybe?”

“Dry? Sweet? Sour?”

“Sweet,” you respond, without thought. Sweet wine is always the only route. “Thank you,” you offer, blushing with the quiet thanks. 

“Sure thing,” he winks. Then, he’s crouching in front of you, his hand landing on your thigh. Your skin heats under his touch. He’s so fucking gorgeous. And he’s so close. And he’s leaning in. 

You lean forward, too, and capture his lips in an effortless kiss. So soft, his mustache tickles your upper lip just right. 

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and your tummy does a funny twirl before he’s standing back up with one more wink and a little grin that makes your cheeks flare red. “Be right back, sweet thing.”

As long as you can without having to move from your spot, you watch him lazily (and sexily) walk to the kitchen for your beverage. You’re biting your lip, still, when you turn back to face the rest of the party in front of you. 

Then you see Jake leaving the kitchen right as Sammy enters it. And with Stacy momentarily distracted, he lets his eyes wander. But, you realize, they don’t really wander– no, they go immediately to you. 

You’re still biting your lip, but you let your teeth slip just the slightest bit with the look he’s giving you. It’s haunting–almost as though it’s a best-kept secret. He looks…pensive. But his eyes are open, wondering and curious with his lips parted just slightly– so prettily. 

You let your gaze stay on his face–continue looking in his mysterious eyes–until Sam is the one exiting the kitchen. So, you turn your attention back to his face. He’s smiling at you, holding up a clear plastic cup, holding what looks like Pink Moscato. Your lips turn up at the sight, but let your eyes float back to Jake’s of their own accord… but he’s no longer looking at you. 

No, he’s looking at Malachi, who is still engaging in conversation with Stacy. 

But he’s not smiling along with their conversation. He’s scowling, his jaw clenching enough to make your skin feel hot. Why’s he so mad?

You choose not to think about it, instead averting your eyes to Sam, now back in front of you with your wine, setting his new drink on the table. You let your eyes settle on his ass in his gray jeans and you can’t help but appreciate the view. 

Then he’s turning around and his phone is getting clicked open from his pocket. 

Peering at the screen, you wrinkle a brow. 

“What’s–?”

“Twenty Questions!” He excitedly says as he hands you your wine and settles in next to you again. “Thought it could keep us busy for the next bit of time.”

Your eyes twinkle. He’s adorable. 

“Okay,” you smirk, taking a drink of your wine, which settles immediately into your cheeks. Warms you right up. And, yes, it’s Pink Moscato. “How did you know I love this type of wine?”

“Lucky guess,” he chimes, the apples of his cheeks pink after a swig from his brand new mixed drink. “You wanna play?” He flashes his screen at you again, lit up way too bright with the questions he’d found online. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a sure nod. “Give me your worst.”

And, without being able to help it, you’re peeking over your shoulder once more. 

You find Jake’s eyes, dark and waiting for you, before you’re both turning back to your tasks at hand. 

Your tummy is positively fluttering as Sammy asks his first question.

“What’s one of the craziest things you’ve ever done?”

Not helping the giggle that bubbles out of your chest, you know exactly what your answer is.  

Ironic. 

“Craziest things I’ve ever done…” you hum, already knowing what you’re going to say when you give him a tiny smile. “Well, one of the craziest things I’ve ever done is definitely agreeing to star in a project film with a bunch of people I really didn’t know worth shit.”

His signature cackle comes to join your giggle, and you feel totally at ease in the moment. 

God, he’s easy to talk to. 

“That’s fucking hilarious,” he responds. Then, there’s a wholesome smile under his mustache, his eyes encompassing a brand new emotion. “But I’m really glad you did it.”

And, with Sam’s precious face making you feel a little giddy, and the feeling of eyes burning into the back of your neck making your stomach feel heavy with want, you say the only thing you can think of. 

It’s simple.

“Me too.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The chill of the night is nearly unbearable as you’re waiting in the line for the hayride that takes you to the haunted house, and you’ve found yourself regretting your choice of attire.

Your pleather jacket isn’t doing a damn thing to block the crisp breeze, and the small amount of alcohol you had ingested earlier has completely worn off, so you can’t rely on that to warm your system. 

Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest in a desperate attempt to use your own body heat to warm up, but  there isn’t any heat left to be used. You’re sure everyone can hear the incessant chattering of your teeth and the jingling of your jewelry from your uncontrollable shivers.

Michigan cold feels different than Oklahoma cold. Your body clearly hasn’t adjusted to the northern weather as of yet. (It also doesn’t help that you haven’t eaten a single thing since you woke up early this morning, but you turn that thought away fast. You’re not ready to confront that just yet.)

You half expected Sam to offer you his coat by now, but he’s too busy cutting up with Josh and Malachi at the moment to pay you any mind. You feel too awkward to ask, so you’ll just stand here and wait for your body to completely ice over while you wait for this fucking hayride that won’t allow you to be any warmer than you are right now. 

Hell, even Jake gave Stacy his coat, and she didn’t even have to ask for it. He just did it. 

And it doesn’t help that she can’t stop making her ‘pick me’ comments about how his coat is so big on her that she looks so tiny in it.

You’re annoyed as fuck that she’s here. The way she chimed in before you all left, nosing her way in to figure out where you all were going, just to get Jake to ask her to come. And of course he did. Of fucking course. 

So, she’s here. Bumbling about and talking about whatever comes to her dull mind. But, her looks give her a pass. You’ve found yourself wondering more than once tonight why they didn’t cast her as Guiniverre. Her beauty alone makes her more than qualified for the role. And if her acting is as good as everyone says, it just doesn’t make sense why she wasn’t chosen.

You’re really wishing Nat was here. She would just get it and share along with your annoyance. But she would definitely say something along the lines of what you’re thinking. She’s not one to hold back like you are.

(And you’re starting to understand why she referred to Stacy as a ‘moron.’)

The line has been still for well over forty five minutes at this point, and you’ve not even moved a quarter of an inch since you’ve been here.

This better be worth it.

Stacy decides to join in on the guys’ fun, making an obnoxious show of herself as she does so. You know she’s only doing it for the sake of Jake’s attention. 

And apparently Sam’s, too. 

She’s got her arm interlocked with his as they stand in front of you, making ‘jokes’ with one another that might actually make you hurl. 

Sam is too naive (and still a bit too inebriated) to understand her little game, but you’re not. 

And it should be pissing you off that she’s suddenly all over your date, but at least it’s keeping her from clinging to Jake.

The vexed look on Jake’s face says everything you’re thinking— his annoyance isn’t quite as subtle as yours. 

You’re a little relieved to find that he is also not thrilled about the situation. Everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves, and it’s not that you’re not, you just wish you weren’t so damn cold. 

A sudden gust of wind hits you like a frozen freight train. It’s nearly painful, piercing through your skin to your chilled bones. 

“Jesus!” You exclaim from the sharp gale, causing everyone to startle and snap their heads in your direction. 

“You alright?” Jake asks.

You notice the bright pink hue on his cheeks and the very tip of his nose, and you’ve heard him sniffle every few minutes since you’ve been here. You kind of feel bad for him. Having given up his coat to the little blondie keeping Sam’s attention far away from you, he must be as cold as you are. 

“I’m fine,” you fib through your jittering teeth. “I’m just so fucking cold.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad out tonight. Actually this whole month has been much colder than normal, I believe.” He cups his hands, bringing them up to his lips to blow warm air on them before sticking them back in the pockets of his skinny jeans.

You’re definitely not used to this kind of simple, small talk with Jake. And his annoyed demeanor has suddenly vanished. He no longer looks completely miserable, probably because he’s now ignoring Stacy’s obnoxious, forced laugh as she’s still messing around with Sam, Josh and Malachi just a few feet in front of you.

You’re absolutely over her at this point. The way she will snort out a fake laugh and casually peek over at Jake to see if he’s looking at her— it’s nauseating to watch, really.

“I think there’s a hot chocolate stand over there if you wan-” Jake starts, but he’s interrupted by Sam.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t realize you were so cold.” Sam says, wrapping his arms around your frigid body and rubbing his hands up and down your back to warm you up.

You’re grateful for his body heat, the way it instantly puts your endless shivers to rest.

But you wish he would’ve waited until Jake finished his thought. (And you wish Jake were the one warming you up instead.) 

But while in Sam’s embrace, you catch Jake watching, glaring. 

His jaw becomes tightly clenched, his chest rising up and down rapidly with his deep breaths, his eyes narrowed in on you wrapped tightly in his brother's arms.

And even as Stacy waltzes her way to him, tucking herself into his body, seeking his warmth, (quite literally just mimicking you and Sam) Jake's burning gaze doesn’t cease.

You’ve stood like this for so long that you don’t even realize you’re all next in line for the hayride. 

Sam helps guide you in the back of the wagon, being sure you don’t slip on the unstable wooden step. Josh and Malachi pile in shortly after you, then Jake and Stacy. 

You wince as you take a seat on the sharp hay, wishing even more that you would’ve chosen something thicker than your skirt. The hay is stabbing you through your clothes, and no efforts in situating yourself to find a comfortable spot are proving to be successful. 

“Here, “ Sam says, patting his thigh. “Sit on my lap, you’ll be a lot more comfortable.” 

The dry hay may as well be needles poking your ass, so you don’t turn down his offer. Plus, his body heat will also come in handy as you’ve got a pretty substantial way to go before you reach the haunted house. 

He holds you close to him by your waist as you situate yourself on his warm thighs, but you hear a rather unpleasant scoff coming directly from Jake’s mouth as you do so. And so does everyone else, apparently, as everyone looks his way at the sound.

Sammy snickers, asking “You good over there, Jacob?” 

His condescending tone catches you completely off guard. And clearly has pissed off Jake. 

“Sam, it’s in your best interest to shut the fuck up.” Jake angrily retorts. 

Stacy is seated next to him, a ridiculous smile splayed on her unaware, perfect face. Giggling and laughing when she has absolutely no clue what’s going on between the brothers.

(If you’re completely honest, you’re not entirely sure you do, either.)

But the tension is evident, nonetheless. And she is obviously incapable of picking up on it. 

But what she does pick up on, is how you're seated comfortably on top of Sammy's lap, giving her the idea to also do that. Because for some fucking reason, she feels the need to always do the exact same thing you and Sammy do. 

You have to hold back your laugh as she moves to sit on Jake, and he tells her it’s not a good idea and makes her sit back down on a dirty piece of hay. 

Serves her fucking right.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

A slew of bloody, killer clowns lead you all out of the hay covered wagon. Their makeup is…mediocre at best. Not the most realistic you’ve ever seen but you can tell there was at least a little more than minimal effort put into their costuming.

Stacy, of course, is screaming at the top of her lungs with each move they make, attaching herself to Jake in an obnoxious manner that almost prohibits him from being able to walk. The look on his features tells you he’s less than pleased with her actions, but he doesn’t stop her. 

They then lead you all to the beginning of their ‘Three Ring Maze of Horrors,’ guiding you through the dark black lit entrance. The sounds of exaggerated screams and wails can be heard through their less than adequate sound system, playing on an endless loop along with circus music in an eerie minor key. 

A typical cliche; nothing you haven’t seen adapted a hundred times before. The concept is a bit overdone in your eyes. Being the horror fan that you are, you’re pretty desensitized to things like this. It takes a lot to scare you anymore. But, you still enjoy the atmosphere nonetheless.

Not only was Jake chosen to be the designated driver tonight, it was a collective decision to have Jake lead the whole group through the haunted house. Of course, Stacy is close behind, clutching his back and burying her face into his jacket, seeking her pick-me attention yet again from him.

You and Sam are close behind, with you in front of him. He’s not quite as brave as you are, closely mimicking the reactions of  Stacy, much to your annoyance. 

Josh and Malachi are the tail end, clinging to one another as they both share in their fear together.

You and Jake seem to be the only ones who aren’t phased in the least. He’s hardly even winced at a single bloody clown threatening to have him for dinner. 

But with every jump and yell of a clown, comes a blood curdling scream from Stacy that is far more dramatic than necessary. 

Again, you have to fight back your laughter at the fact that Jake quite literally shrugs her off and ignores her every time. It appears he’s not buying any of her shit anymore tonight.

Sam, on the other hand, is much more fearful than you would have initially thought. (Especially considering they do these every year. Surely he doesn’t think this one is bad, right?) 

He’s basically using you as a human shield everytime a clown reaches for him, squealing and bending down to your height to hide himself behind you while you simply look at the clowns and wave, being the pretentious asshole you are. 

You’re thankful that both him and Stacy can’t see the ceaseless rolling of your eyes each time they make a fuss over something that is not as scary as they’re making it out to be. Yeah, you’ve jolted backwards from a jumpscare or two, but the whole thing is planned out in a way that you can almost guess exactly when and where an actor will strike. It’s textbook for spook houses. Some of them (including this one) are incredibly predictable. 

As you’re finally nearing the end of this poor excuse of a fear seeking thrill, you catch the smallest glimpse of a grotesque clown's meticulous hiding spot. But he’s not hidden as well as he thinks, since you can still spot him even with the neon lights flashing about in an attempt to disorient your vision.

Jake is walking closer and closer to his spot, and you have a pretty good feeling that he’ll strike once Jake is within the appropriate distance. 

You see the clown prepare himself and just as Jake is in the perfect spot, he jumps out in front of him, letting out a rather deafening wail. 

Jake clearly did not see him, having the ever loving shit scared out of him and raising his fist to throw a punch at the actor. 

Thankfully, the clown tucked himself back away in his little hiding spot before Jake could throw his self-defense punch. 

Why was that so fucking hot?

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

After a rather interesting time out, you’ve all finally made it back to their apartment.

The night ran a little later than you intended, so you’re making haste in preparing to leave so you can get home. Sammy isn’t too keen on you leaving just yet, offering hug after hug in an  attempt to keep you here a little longer with him.

I don’t deserve him.

“Do you really need to leave?” Sam asks, his tone of voice telling you he’s got something special in mind. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t intriguing to you. “It’s pretty late, you know. I’d hate for you to drive all the way home at this hour. You’re more than welcome to stay here.” His wink sends a swarm of butterflies to your undeniably  eager tummy.

You hear Josh agree that it’s a good idea as he and Malachi are making their way up the stairs to their room. You instinctively look to Jake to try and gauge his thoughts, but, as usual, you can’t read his stone cold face.

If circumstances with your mom were different, you might agree. But you’ve been gone from her for far too long. And being away from her overnight just simply isn’t an option.

“I wish I could, but I’ve got piles of homework sitting on my bed waiting for me.” Again, that’s a lie. But telling everyone the true reason is a task for another night. 

“Will you at least text me that you’ve made it home safe?” Sam asks. His request sends a wave of warmth to your heart. The fact that he just fucking cares about you, and makes it evident.

“I will, Sam. I promise.” 

You start gathering your things that you left on the couch earlier, and as you’re about to open the front door, you hear something that sends a boiling heat to your blood.

“Sam's right, Stacy. It isn’t safe to be out driving at this hour. I’m going to insist that you stay here tonight.” Jake tells her. 

Don’t stay, don’t stay, d-

“I’d love to, Jakey!” her squealing voice answers.

Jakey?

“You can just sleep in my room, if you want,” he continues. 

As if your blood wasn’t heated enough, now it’s blistering. 

You cock your head in Jake’s direction, and his eyes are frozen solid on you.

He’s doing this on purpose. He’s getting even with you for all of your antics with Sam tonight.

Fuck you, Jake. 

She follows him down the hall to his room, and when you hear his bedroom door shut after they walk in together, you decide that enough is enough.

You throw your stuff back down on the couch and stomp your way towards Sammy who’s staring at you with wide eyes.

Non verbally agreeing to his inquisition, you wrap your arms around his neck and attach your lips to his with everything you’ve pent up from the entire night, letting it all out on Sammy who’s willing to take it with no question.

He doesn’t break away to ask what changed your mind, he just reciprocates the same passion you’ve bestowed upon him. He’s practically clawing at your body to bring you closer, shoving his tongue past your lips and moaning straight into your open, hungry mouth.

With no more thoughts running through your mind, you leap into his ready arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands reach to cup your ass. 

He starts carrying you up the stairs, holding your body as if you weigh nothing. His lips only detach from yours long enough to open his bedroom door and carry you in, carefully letting you to fall on his mattress. 

He wastes no time crawling on top of you, sucking the skin of your neck before finding your lips once again.

You grab hold of his white button up and tug on it until it reaches his shoulders, digging your nails into the now exposed skin of his back.

He lifts up to take it all the way off his body, tossing it across the room somewhere before gracefully flipping you both so you’re now on top, straddling him, your skirt now fully bunched up around your hips as his hands begin kneading the flesh of your thighs over your black tights. 

You grind yourself on his body in desperate search for a release to ease the built up tension tonight has caused you.

“Shit, y/n,” he hisses, moving his hands to your hip bones to help guide you even further into him.

The moan you let out is one you’re sure everyone else in the apartment heard, but you couldn’t begin to care even if you wanted to.

I hope he fucking heard that. 

You lean yourself down, your lips flush against his once again, making a show of sticking your ass out as much as you can.

“Y/n,” Sam pulls away from you. You chase after him, but he stops you again. “Hey, are you sure you want this?” he whispers.

You find his question to be utterly ridiculous. Of course you want it. 

Even though it may not be for the right reasons…

You lift yourself up to look him in the eyes, “Do you not want this?” you ask, a bit of defensiveness in your tone.

His hand reaches out to pull you back down to him, enveloping your lips with a long, drawn out kiss that steals every breath of air from your lungs.

“I have wanted this since I fucking laid eyes on you,” he utters against your parted lips. “I just want to make sure that you are ready.”

You don’t want to think anymore, you don’t want him to think anymore. 

Instead of using words to tell him just how badly you want this, you lift back up to tear your shirt off your body, leaving just your black bra on your top half. There’s no use in overthinking that, considering he’s already seen your breasts due to the sheer nature of your black lace piece for the film.

“Fuck,” he whispers, running his hands up your bare stomach, reaching to gently cup your still clothed chest. His thumbs trace delicately over your hardened nipples through the fabric, a rise in goosebumps enveloping your body. “You are so goddamn sexy, y/n.”

Just as you’re about to lean back into him, you notice something catching his eye. You instantly realize what it is. 

Fuck. You weren’t ready for that yet.

“What’s this?” He traces the outline of your tattoo etched under your right breast, no longer disguised under the heavy stage makeup you’ve used during filming. Your body stiffens at the realization. 

Now that he’s officially witnessed the most personal part of you, it suddenly registers what you’re doing. 

And the anxiety becomes all consuming. All you want to do is cover up, to hide.

At this point, you’re only doing this to get to Jake. It’s absolutely not fair to Sam, using him and his affection for you like this. It’s not fair to yourself, either.

This isn’t what you want. But you’ve convinced yourself that it is, letting it go so far that your best kept, most intimate secret has officially been revealed. 

You begin feeling a loss of your sacred identity, a piece of yourself that you weren’t ready to share just yet. 

It’s much deeper than the tattoo at this point. 

What the fuck am I doing?

You swing your leg over Sam, removing yourself from his body and searching frantically for your shirt.

You have to get out of here. You should’ve just fucking gone home.

“Y/n?” His voice sounds shaky and unsure. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it so far.” He stands from the bed to meet you, the concern painted on his features shattering your heart. 

As bad as you feel right now, you would’ve felt a thousand times worse had you continued this whole thing for all the wrong reasons.

“You didn’t do anything, Sam. I need you to know that. I just—“ Fuck. You don’t want to hurt him. And you don’t want him thinking any of this is his fault because it absolutely isn’t. “I thought I was ready, I don’t think I am. I’m so sorry, Sammy.”

You swallow down the massive wave of tears threatening to fall, but you can’t help the wetness forming in your ducts.

You’re angry with yourself for letting it get this far. You’re angry that you almost used someone who’s been nothing but kind to you to get to someone else, for your own selfish purposes. And you’re angry that you almost gave yourself fully to him without being ready to do so. 

And for allowing him to see a part of you that practically no one knows about. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, cupping your cheek. You know he can see the tears welling in your eyes, as much as you wish he didn’t. “Please don't be sorry. I’m only into this if you are. You call the shots, okay? I don’t want you to ever feel rushed.”

“I think I’ll just go home, if that’s okay.” You pull your shirt back on over your head, wanting nothing more than to be in one of your giant sweaters for just a semblance of comfort right now. 

“Of course that’s okay. Do you want me to walk you out?” He asks. His sweet, quiet voice is comforting you a little, but you can’t shake the guilt you’re carrying heavily on your shoulders right now enough to find enough solace.

You tell him no, that you’re okay to walk out on your own. You can’t bear letting him do anything else for you. You just need to go.

He hugs you goodbye, telling you to be safe and reminding you once more to text him when you get home.

You tell him you will, and walk out of his room, shutting the door behind.

As you run down the stairs, you’re immensely hoping that no one is down there to see you leaving but as you reach the last step, that hope you were clinging to is no more.

It’s Jake. Rummaging through the fridge in the dark kitchen, and to make matters worse, (and slightly more awkward) the only thing on his body is a pair of black sweatpants. 

And when he turns to face you, you realize how low they’re sitting on his waist. Low enough that you can see his hip bones and a small trail of hair sticking up from the waistband. Fuck. His hair is an absolute mess, tangled and sticking to his sweaty, flushed face.

You would enjoy the view, but you know good and well why he looks like this. And you know Stacy is still in his room, probably in a very similar state. 

He watches you while your hurriedly head to the door, not stopping to say a single fucking word to him. He mutters something to you as you shut the door, but you don’t bother turning around to catch what he said. You just ignore him, practically racing to your car to get the hell out of here. 

You throw the driver's side door open, slamming it shut once you’re seated. You sit in silence, laying your head on  the steering wheel while the levees in your eyes finally break. The tears are uncontrollable, and leaving right now would prove useless as your vision is completely blurred.

The disappointment in yourself is ripping your soul in two. 

And you feel so fucking bad for Sam. You made him feel as though he was to blame. But the real reason for everything that transpired is so terrible. This isn’t like you, to take advantage of someone for the sole purpose of making someone else jealous. 

Someone as lovely as Sam who absolutely doesn’t deserve something so cruel. 

You’ve successfully lead him on in ways you never intended, all for the sake of someone who can hardly hold  a normal conversation with you. 

You feel like you’re beneath the lowest levels of the earth right now. 

You’re just ready to be home. All you want right now is to be tucked away in the comfort of your bed, to finally go to sleep and forget about everything for a while.

And the reality of how long you’ve been away from your mom is setting in, yet another thing to feel guilty about. 

You choke back your sobs, fanning your eyes with your hands to dry them enough to see. 

You take your key and turn it in the ignition, waiting for the car to start.

Nothing. 

You pull it out and try once more. It almost starts to turn over, but the laggy engine isn’t doing anything other than sputtering and heaving. 

You wait a minute before you try again, giving it a second to breathe and praying to every god in the universe that it’ll start.

In one last ditch effort, you hold the key as long as you possibly can this time until you hear a loud pop from under the hood. Then, total silence. 

This isn’t happening…

You try the ignition once more just to see if by some miracle it’ll start, but it won’t even try to turn over now. There���s no more power.

Your car is fucking toast. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. 

The last thing you want to do is go back inside to ask for a ride. But at this point, your options are rather limited.

Your first thought is to try and call Natalia. But both times you try, it goes straight to voicemail.

Great.

You have to get  home, even if that means swallowing your shame and going back for Sam’s help.

With a reluctant and heavy sigh, you leave your car and drag your feet back to their apartment.

You turn the knob of the front door to find that it’s still unlocked. (Thank god you don’t have to knock.)

But when you quietly step in, you’re mortified to see Jake and Josh now awake and in the kitchen, snapping their heads sharply upon you entering.

“Jesus Christ!” Josh shouts, his whole bodying jolting forward into Jake’s in a dramatic display. 

You feel bad for scaring him so bad, but his comical reaction does bring a hint of a smile to your face. Although you’re far too upset to laugh right now. 

“You okay, love?” Josh asks with a gentle voice while he quickly walks over to you, looking at you with sweet concern.

You know for a fact that your mascara has left streaks of black down your face, so you’re sure you look absolutely insane right now but you couldn’t be bothered to fix it before you came back inside. 

“Um, my car-“ you start, clearing your throat to strengthen your weak voice. “My car broke down and I need a ride. I really have to get home.”

Without as much as a single question, Josh takes his coat off the rack and grabs his keys off the hook beside the door, but he’s promptly cut off by Jake swiping them away from his hand.

“You’ve been drinking, Josh,” he says while hanging the keys back in their spot. “Driving isn’t a good idea.”

“She needs to get home,” Josh argues, ripping his keys off the hook yet again. “I’m completely fine. I’ll take her.”

Jake takes the damn keys back again, this time shoving them in the pocket of his sweatpants to ensure Josh can’t get ahold of them. “No. There’s goddamn liquor running through your blood. I’m not letting you drive. Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

“Do you want to take her, then?” Josh asserts, rubbing a frustrated hand across his forehead. 

God, please no. 

The thought of being in a car alone with Jake is enough to make you put your foot down on that idea. But you’re also not too keen on him seeing that you live in one of the most rundown, shitty complexes in the entire city. 

But Jake is right, as much as you’d hate to admit. With as intoxicated as Josh had been earlier, it’s not smart that he drives you. You can still smell the alcohol on his breath and he’s not even standing that close to you.

“Just go get Sam,” Jake responds, stomping off to his room. 

Josh grunts and matches his heavy footing up the stairs to Sam’s room, leaving you standing there alone and wondering what the fuck this whole night has become. 

A few minutes pass, and as Josh is heading back down the stairs, you notice he’s alone and appearing even more irate than he was previously. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n. He’s completely passed out and won’t move. I’ll just have to get Jake to take you since he’s so insistent that I can’t drive.”

Fuck. 

Before you can oppose, he’s already knocking on his door.

“Jake, put a goddamn shirt on and take her home.” He yells, not caring enough to quiet his voice for the sake of the others who are fast asleep. 

You take a peek down the hallway to catch Jake tossing open the door, damn near slamming Josh with it while aggressively putting on a Jimi Hendrix hoodie.

Stepping into a pair of black vans, he takes what you assume are his keys from the hook, already halfway out the door before he asks, “Are you coming, y/n?”

His tone pisses you the hell off— he’s not hiding the fact that he’s not thrilled about this. Both with his tone of voice and his assertive body language.

Sorry to inconvenience you so goddamn much. 

You’re not in any mental state to argue; getting home is your only goal right now. 

“Yep.” You sneer, grudgingly following him out the door to his car.

You had seen the practically brand new, matte black Range Rover sitting in the parking lot plenty of times, but you never gathered that it was his. 

Although you should have guessed, given the way it so perfectly matches his aesthetic. You recently discovered his affinity for all things piratical, learning from Josh that the medallions he wears around his neck are ancient coins found amongst the ruins of old shipwrecks. He also told you about Jake’s childhood obsession with Johnny Depp's famous portrayal of the beloved Jack Sparrow character, so you’re not the least bit surprised when you see ‘BLK PRL’ engraved in the metal license plate. Clearly a nod to that part of himself. (That you can’t help but find awfully endearing.)

It’s nice. Really fucking nice. And clearly very well taken care of as there’s not a single flaw to be found.

The question remains– how the hell does a college student afford one of the nicest apartments you’ve ever seen and a new Range Rover? 

You still don’t know what he does for work, but you don’t care enough at the moment to find out.

To your shock, he pulls a pure gentleman move by opening the passengers door for you and helping you in his car. Something you certainly hadn’t planned on but found rather charming. 

Once he verifies that you’re in and secure, he shuts the door and heads to the drivers side, letting himself in and starting the engine. 

He begins backing out of the driveway, one hand on the steering wheel and one on the headrest of your seat, his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth in concentration. You find it all to be inexplicably attractive and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

But when his eyes catch your stare, you look away, hoping he doesn't realize just how long you’d been watching. 

“Where do you live?” he asks while putting the car in drive. 

You don’t want to tell him. You don’t want him knowing that you live in one of the worst areas in the entire Detroit, Ann Arbor area. 

But you no longer have a choice. 

“Redwood Apartments,” you say quietly, wishing that this whole thing wasn’t happening. “Down on north Highland, just a block away from Meijer down the road.” 

“Yeah, I think I know where that’s at.” He nods his head as he begins to take off in the direction of your home.

The car is completely silent, the rumbling tires against the pavement being the only thing you can hear. Neither of you says a word for what feels like hours, but when you look at the clock, you realize your trek began only ten minutes ago. It’s a solid twenty minutes between your place and theirs, so you still have another agonizing ten minutes left to go. 

Once you hit a red light, Jake reaches to the center console for his phone and unlocks it, handing it to you with his screen open on his Spotify page. 

“Pick something to listen to,” he says as the light turns green once again. 

It feels utterly illegal to be in charge of his phone right now. But you’re also a fan of having something to listen to that isn’t your combined breaths and the sound of his heavy tires rolling against the road. 

You take the opportunity to scroll through his playlists, seeing literally hundreds of them categorized quite specifically. 

Picking the one titled ‘Fave Psychedelic,’ you scroll through until you find Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix. An old favorite of yours and the song you instantly thought of when you saw him put on his hoodie. 

You set his phone back down as the song begins, feeling your spirits beginning to lift upon hearing the transcendent tonality that can only be described as the Hendrix experience.

Even Jake can’t sit still, nodding his head to the beat and tapping his fingers to the rhythm of Jimi’s strumming. 

“Good choice,” he mutters, humming along to the classic tune.

“I must say, though,” he continues. “I actually prefer Stevie Ray Vaughan’s take on this one, especially when he played it live. He just exuded the very essence of Jimi, took everything he did and amplified the hell out of it while showing nothing but respect to the original masterpiece.”

Stevie is another favorite of yours. God, the hours you spent during your childhood watching him play, appreciating the passion and time he put into his art. 

You went through years being bullied relentlessly for your taste in ‘old people’ music, having never found anyone else who shares the same musical palate with you.

Until now.

Having this conversation with Jake is something you so desperately needed right now. 

“I completely agree,” you say, searching for his cover on Spotify and adding it to the queue. “The way he could make his guitar sing, like you can hear his emotion through his strings. One of the only guitarists worthy of being compared to Hendrix.”

You’re thinking about Jake’s style, his hats and choice of mostly black attire, his mass amounts of jewelry… it suddenly dawns on you that he must really love Stevie because his style is so closely linked to his. A style you’ve been attracted to since you can remember. 

You’re shocked that you’ve not picked up on that until now, but it perfectly explains your instant infatuation for him.

“Absolutely,” he responds. “They’re both my biggest inspirations with my own music. I have so much admiration for them, and Clapton, Petty, Harrison, all the rock and roll greats who incorporated the deep roots of the blues in their playing.”

Imagining him playing like some of your favorites… it’s nothing but elating. Your imagination is running rampant with picturing him playing the kind of music you’ve spent so much of your life deeply appreciating. The music that connected your soul to things far beyond the physical realm. 

“I’d love to hear you play sometime,” you say, turning a bit shy at your sudden valiant request. 

Stopped at another red light, he looks to you with the most genuine smile you’ve yet to see from him. “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You suck in a deep breath as Jake makes it closer to your apartment complex. 

Lights. Flashing of blinding red and blue. 

In the parking lot of your complex.

Fire trucks, police cars, an ambulance. All situated in front of the run down building. 

“What the hell is going on? I can’t even make it in the parking lot, jesus.” Jake is driving around in slow circles trying to find a place to enter that isn’t blocked by cops.

It’s all beginning to set in. You feel your heart plummeting to the depths of your stomach, your breaths barely filling the capacity of your lungs.

Your worst fear. 

You shouldn’t have fucking left her.

“Jake. Pull over. Now.” 

You pull your seatbelt off, grabbing the handle of his passenger's door but it won’t open. You try tugging on it further, realizing it’s locked.

Jake picks up on the urgency in your voice and abruptly slams on the brakes, throwing the gear shift into park to unlock the doors. 

“Y/n, what are you–” he tries to ask, but you’re already out of the car and sprinting towards the maelstrom of lit up vehicles. 

But as you’re stepping over the curb into the lot, an officer stops you. 

“Ma’am, you need to stay back. They’re about to carry someone out and we can’t let you over there just yet,” he says, holding your forearm to stop you. 

Using every bit of strength you can muster in the moment, you pull away from him and continue running. You hear him yelling for you to stop, but his shouting is muffled by the voice in your head telling you to get to your mom now.

As you make it closer, you see them pulling a gurney down from the second floor. 

The floor your apartment rests on.

They pull it down the stairs slowly, and they’re angled in a way that you can’t see who they’re carrying. 

All you can do is stand there and wait amongst the paramedics and EMTs who are trying to tell you that you’re not supposed to be here. 

But they’re blurred images to you. The only thing you can see clearly is the gurney being wheeled in your direction, squeaking metal being the only sound that fills your ears.

And as it finally reaches you, your fear is imagined. 

Her swollen face is distorted by an oxygen mask, her weak body bound to the flat table by straps holding her tight to its cold metal. 

Her right hand dangles off the side, swaying back and forth lifelessly with every push and pull of the wheels. 

You lunge yourself forward towards her, being stopped forcefully by two officers who’ve been telling you this whole time to step back. The weight of their bodies against yours knocks the wind from your lungs, hardly allowing your choked cry for her to be heard. 

“I have to go with her!” You scream as they situate the gurney in the back of the ambulance. 

One of the paramedics steps between you and the cops, taking your hand and looking you in the eye. The kindest  gesture you’ve encountered in the midst of this whole thing.“Honey, you can’t be in there when they take her. You can drive yourself and meet them at the emergency room, okay?” she tells you.

But your car. You don’t have your fucking car. It’s sitting completely useless at the Kiszka’s complex. Without it, you have no way of getting there.

You suddenly feel another hand on your body, your left shoulder. It’s warm. Firm. Yet soft and assuring all at once. 

It pulls you from your disorientation, grounding you. You peek over your shoulder to see Jake standing there, his presence crashing in like a wave of peace over the chaotic storm that has become your reality.

Your eyes become wet at the mere sight of him. 

He’s still here. 

“Come on,” he utters calmly, moving his grip down to your hand, interlocking his fingers tight with yours. “I’ll take you.”

a/n: i'd love to hear your thoughts about everything! as i said, this one was tough for me to write, but it was something i desperately needed to do.

i hope you all love it as much as i do. 🤍

(i would also like to apologize again for taking so long with this one. i promise the next chapter won’t take nearly as long.)

if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. ☺️

sending all my love!

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @klarxtr @watchingover-hypegirl @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface  @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflame4goinghome @heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @nina-23-45 @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon @gretasfallingsky @i-love-gvf @styles-canvas @mackalah @gvfmarge @sarafrusciante2 @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @highway-tuna @vikingsisthenewsexy @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @citylight-delight @blacksoul-27 @hippievanfleet @jazzyfigz @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @smoking-jakelane @hernameis-heaven

i'm fairly certain i've included everyone but if i've forgotten you, please let me know! (& i sincerely apologize)

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #sam kiszka fic #jake fic #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka fluff #greta van fleet smut #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #greta van smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet #le morte d’arthur #gvf