#salvage conscious
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"Get in the SCRAP!" Toronto Star. September 29, 1942. Page 7.
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THIS IS WHAT YOUR JUNK WILL PRODUCE
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This chart will give you an idea what you are contributing to the armed forces when you put out for collection your unneeded metal articles. One flatiron will yield sufficient scrap for the production of steel used in 30 hand grenades. Twelve sub-machine guns would use up the scrap from an old refrigerator, and three bayonets can be fabricated from an old wash pail. The 10 shells supplied by an old kitchen stove are four-inchers. So, dig deep, folks, bring out the junk for the next collection!
#salvage conscious#salvage campaign#salvage#scrap metal#junk#munitions workers#arms production#canada during world war 2
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A generation that traveled from Free Love to a costly lack of love that seems to be shrinking rather than growing as the world gets colder hearted daily.
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cause i love to love, to love, to love you
↬ in which you have him all lovesick and smiles
includes; dazai, chūya, atsushi, fyodor
notes; i am gonna pretend i didn’t disappear for 2-3 months. this has been in my drafts for so long :( i tried to clean it up as much as i could but it’s really old jfjdks
DAZAI
dazai appears happy. present tense.
his typical inquiries for double suicides came to lessen to conscious degree, substituting in drinking sake together when the sun cowers, nothing but a string of nonsensical chatter proceeding each sip.
he was sticky like that: unannounced visits, impromptu phone calls, sudden changes in his schedule to accommodate yours. in any case, he isn’t one to shy from stooping as low as whining if it rewards him with your familiar face.
( his windpipes splinter before he could mutter it out loud, but the solitude that’s wedged deep in his bones for so long felt lighter when you were near. he questions how long such benevolence would last before becoming sullied by his hand… ).
…and yet all things considered, it hasn’t deterred him from courting you nonetheless. at times he can’t help but think he’s taken a bite of his own medicine when he’s the one skipping around like a helpless maiden.
and yet again in spite of it all, his brazenness remains perpetually untouched as ever. he entertains different approaches if only to coax out a new reaction from you and he’s not bashful in the slightest. so much so, he remains unruffled even under the scrutiny of your coworkers.
. . .
“ this is highly unprofessional.”
“ don’t be so mean, bella. don’t you know how much i missed you?”
your eyes flit down to the man currently using your lap as a headrest, the rest of his body stretching over the expanse of the couch. he was shameless, that much was certain, but his ability to remain unperturbed whilst in his lovey dovey state was impressive. you cocked a brow, sighing.
“ osamu.” his lips visually twitched at the call of his name; it’s a word warm on your tongue but leaves the hairs on his nape at your mercy anyway. " you saw me fifteen minutes ago—”
“ twenty.” he corrected, cheeky (and quite frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled that number out his ass). “ but it was the longest twenty minutes of my life.”
he was unrepentant as ever, experimentally positioning his head to rest on the plush on your thighs. by muscle memory, he began to absently draw shapes wherever he could reach, a crude rendition of stars decorating over the bend of your knee.
he smiles innocently when you squint at him, the gleam in his eyes unwavering. “ only a couple more minutes and i would have been yours,” you mutter out, your voice not as sturdy as you hoped. “ at home.”
dazai almost turns pouty at that. almost. “ but my love, i’ve missed you like crazy. twenty minutes is too long, how can i possibly manage?” the words come out through a breathy exhale and you watch as his lashes kiss his cheeks when he flutters them closed. “ all i could think about is you. and now i have you right here.” he hopes his words carry as much truth as the way his heart does, scurrying away the cold that's mocked him for so long. “ can’t we just stay like this a little longer? pretty please?”
resigned to your fate, you could only clamor your palms over your features— if only to salvage your waning dignity from your coworkers.
unfortunate though… that in doing so you miss the blissful smile curling on his lips as he peeks at you from below. and atsushi notes(after throughly grimacing, not expecting him to be so blunt), it reaches his eyes too.
CHŪYA
" chūya-"
" you can't flirt with me. i have a partner."
terse, stubborn and slurred. if the groggy voice wasn’t enough to confirm your suspicions, the shit-face look belonging to your boyfriend did. he was drunk. wasted if you were to speak bluntly.
in truth, it really doesn’t come off as much of a surprise; his ability to hold his liquor was nothing to brag of (despite what he may profusely argue) and you’re half-convinced he’s already forgotten his own name.
still, you don’t loosen your grip on his sleeve even under the figurative holes he’s burned with his stare. “ chūya. i am your partner.”
“you—! wha-!” his voice erupts into a sudden warble, eyes akin to saucers. " you… you are??"
he takes what’s left of his thinning rationality to study you proper; the style of your hair, your clothing, the smell of perfume/cologne, the familiar quirk of your lips—
oh, he thinks as you push back the loose bangs veiling his face. he doesn’t make any attempts to move, feet stalled and eyes blinking, evidently stunned.
you decide to press on. “ do i look familiar now…?” the lilit of your voice grazes against his ear, plucking out a faint memory tucked somewhere in the crevice of his fuzzy head.
oh. he thinks twice, the stern look bruising his face thawing.
without realizing it, he squares his shoulders in any attempt to remedy his current disheveled appearance, slumped posture pulled taut in— what he hopes— was a more put together frame. conversely, he wobbles on his feet when you continue to eat away at the distance, the ghost of your touch pushing pinpricks into his skin.
“ you’re- you’re really all mine…?” he cringes as soon as it leaves his mouth, coming off eager and hopeful. something like a laugh escapes you and he can’t tell if that’s what made his stomach turn or the alcohol. perhaps both.
“ that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you. you’re so stubborn when you’re drunk.” you punctuate the words with a kiss to his cheek, now warm with revelation. chūya, exhausting the last bits of his energy, shrinks beneath it, a gloved hand clutching his reddened face defensively.
“ why haven’t i made you my spouse yet?” he remarks it so suddenly, you nearly choke on air. he can’t even comprehend what you say thereafter or register the look beginning to contort your features, nothing but liquid courage keeping him afloat.
but- well, if there’s anything the haze trotting his head and his thinning cognition could agree on, it’s that your ring finger appears a little too barren for his liking.
( but not for much longer, he hopes )
ATSUSHI
the sudden change in atsushi’s behavior was a notable observation within the ADA, many of whom watched as the weretiger became stupefied by a face belonging to you. it wasn’t long before concluding it was all the result of a crush; the culprit of which being atsushi himself who played his hand poorly at discretion.
the lovesick chatter would leave his mouth without much rationality, waxing of "[name] this" or "[name] that," and effectively becoming on the receiving end of his praises. it was almost a routine of sorts, occupied by stutters, belated responses and his fidgety footfalls. by the end of it, he fruitlessly attempts to steady his rabbiting heart— if only to stop his blush from staining beyond his cheeks.
even now as he silhouettes by the agency door, the rattle of rain is deafened by the rush of blood to his ears. he anxiously worries the handle of the umbrella in his palms, bouncing from one sole of his feet to the other. should he just ask you? maybe he should wait… now that he thinks about it would be more appropriate to just leav—
“ damn it.” he perks at your sound of displeasure, his heart spiking. “ so much for leaving in a hurry…” you stiffen, realizing you have nothing but a coat protect you from the weather. the flimsy jacket you hurriedly plucked from your wardrobe only added flavor to your disappointment.
atsushi doesn’t miss the opportunity; his feet carries him to you before the unpleasant voice lurking deep in his subconscious bullies him otherwise. “ we can share,” he gestures to his own, silently praying his voice was leveled. it wobbles anyway and by now his knuckles are sheen white as a product of his nerves.
with the organ jumping around in his chest, he almost doesn’t register your ‘thank you,’ only that his fingers were quickly undoing the straps of the umbrella before you could change your mind ( he impulsively bought it earlier that day— his previous pair worned out and far too tiny for two people. but when you thank him with a kind smile, hands slightly brushing with each step, he argues it was the best 800 yen he’s ever spent ).
… that said, a more appropriate question is how you managed to remain naive to all his pining for so long— he’s become despairingly obvious against his own good and yet he can’t find it in himself to change himself, a perpetual lovesick look copy and pasted whenever you entered his proximity.
the same can't be said to everyone else however and he wasn’t particularly pleased when he caught wind of the bets exchanged among his treacherous colleagues. he fears it's only a matter of time before one of them blabs their tongue to you. at this rate, perhaps one of them should.
. . .
" y'know atsushi," ranpo once said, offering his companion a gleaming simper. " you reallllyyy talk about [name] a lot."
"oh.”
his heart flutters, eyes slowly blinking.
" yeah,” he smiles. “ i guess i do.”
FYODOR
" you've been awfully quiet, my dear." fyodor’s voice was just loud enough over the sound of clashing cutlery, fixing you a gaze of genuine interest. " is the meal not to your liking?"
you feel your lips twist into a frown. for being attentive, he (for once) falsely saunters pass the source of your displeasure, failing to recognize the extent of your internal woes. " no- no-" you fidget with your fingers, ignoring the way your propped elbows skidded against the table. the behaviour doesn't go unnoticed by the former, who takes it upon himself to hook his index fingers with yours. “ there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask of you. a… request of sorts.”
“ what is it? i’ll have it shipped to you by the end of the week,” he offers generously though it quickly fades into a confused hum when you shake your head at the proposition.
" it isn’t something you can buy…” you drop your gaze from him to the scantly poked portions of cuisine on your plate. fearing he may misinterpret your words and assume it to be unattainable - perhaps gifting you something ludicrous as a piece of land - you amended quickly. " it’s not what you assume to be either.”
at that, he bums questioningly. “ then what displeases you, my darling?” he provides a faint squeeze to your hand, igniting something warm and paradoxical to his thin layer of frigid skin. “ what can i offer to rid you that frown?”
" just your company.”
" my company?"
" yes." perplexed, he cocks his head; an invitation. willing an inhale to your lungs, you took a moment to gather possession of your words. “ these days you've been rather occupied. i was hoping for perhaps… if we may spend some time together?"
fyodor appears vaguely surprised by that, something unfamiliar fortifying around him. requesting his time felt like a hefty expenditure just in itself and it wasn’t too far fetched to assume he’ll disregard it in favor of some plot embellishing deep within his brain. but a swift refusal never comes.
“ i see,” he finally says after a brief pause. his voice was so soft you wondered if it was meant for you to hear.
it's grows quiet before he speaks again, the fingers curled around your hand withdrawing but not before providing the tips a delicate squeeze. " i can arrange some time tomorrow for you,” he proffers. “ will that satisfy your request, myshka?"
hardly anything can catch fyodor off guard, but something had to be said in the way you brightened at the suggestion, a deep curve coasting over your lips. how pleasant you are.
" yes," you hastily replied, dipping your head slightly. " more than perfect. thank you."
the way your lineaments crossed into a smile was always enduring to observe — exasperated, but one he wouldn’t mind seeing tomorrow knowing he was the cause for such elation.
( idly, he wonders what he can do to see it again ).
A/N !
i’ve been meaning to post this for months but it’s so old & i never quite (and still kinda don’t) liked it :(( fyodor’s is bit ooc jfjdkskla
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#¡! ❞ sincerely rora#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#atsushi x reader#fyodor x reader#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd imagines#dazai fluff#chuuya fluff#atsushi fluff#fyodor fluff#bsd fluff#bsd x y/n#i don’t remember how to tag things 🥹#i’m so nervous posting this. i’m lil ready to cry a bit . this isn’t particularly great but it’s been in my drafts long enough#idk if it’s obvious but i kinda gave up on fyodor’s & dazais parts. it gave me major headaches#i feel like these would have been so much better if i had dedicated a fic individual jfjdksk#kunikida was originally part of this line up. but the draft was beyond redeemable.#i was tempted to remove chuuyas part as well but i think i manage to make it decent??#dazai is so long. my favoritism is showing ha ha h a
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Dealer!remus and autistic!reader’s relationship starts off so rocky guys let me tell you!!! Angst to fluff
Remus doesn’t fully get that he can’t just say things- like he’s got to be deliberate and conscious of the words he uses and his tone.
He’s never had to do that before so it’s weird and it’s hard to learn and he slips up sometimes.
One of your biggest arguments happens when he’s frustrated and you’re just trying to help.
You’d seen him so sullen and moody on James’ story so you decided to do for him, what you do for yourself.
You baked.
But then you realized you’re not at the stage where you know his absolute favourite type of cookie so you go a little all out.
You bake chocolate chip biscoff cookies. Chocolate chip toffee cookies, regular chocolate chip and brown butter chocolate chip.
You set them in a cute box and you text Remus that you’re coming to see him. You’re thinking everything’s going to go well, you’re gonna drop the cookies off for him, maybe he’s going to tell you what’s bugging him- maybe not; either way he won’t be alone.
Except you get there and immediately you feel like you’re inconveniencing him.
Try as you might not to take it personally, it’s really hard because he seems particularly peeved at you.
“Why are you here?” His tone is sharp and jagged and it winds you a little.
“I brought you cookies to cheer you up. Saw that you weren’t yourself on James’ story,” you keep your tone even, light- a practiced thing from your days of dealing with people that didn’t quite get you.
“Why would that cheer me up?” At this point everything’s going downhill fast and you try to salvage what little is left of your deflated cheeriness and open up the box to display the array of cookies.
Remus at the same time waves his hand and the box goes pitching across his living room floor and he explodes.
You can’t remember the last time someone had yelled at you like that and honestly, it hurt more coming from Remus who was so normally relaxed and chilled.
You don’t even tell him goodbye, you just clean up all the mess while he’s cursing and yelling and then leave.
What’s twists the bloodied blade in the wound is that he doesn’t even try to stop you or reach out to you for three days.
By which point you’ve already gone mostly nonverbal and you’re in no mood to entertain or fake a personality for the sake of your friends when you do see them.
Remus stops at your house after you ignore three invitations to his place.
“Dove, I know you’re at home. Can you open the door please?” His voice is muffled through the hard wood of the door and you have half a kind to leave it shut- he’d been mean, he’d said things that were very hurtful now that you’ve actually processed what he’s said fully.
You don’t know if you can stand to see him. Then he knocks again, “I want to look at you when I apologise, sweet girl. Please open the door.” And the wholesale remorse in his tone shakes your core and you cave.
He steps inside with a box and three tulips. “I figured I’d have had to do it face to face for it to really mean anything and because I realized I was an absolute prick to you when you just came over to help.”
You don’t even hum. Usually, when he was nice Remus- as you’ve differentiated in your head - you’d be able to look him in the eyes every couple of words, but right now you just look over his shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have yelled or sworn at you like that. It wasn’t cool and I never want to speak to you like that- ever. I was an idiot and I just want to make up for it.”
There’s about a minute where Remus thinks he’s just fucked every single bit of progress you’ve both made with each other and then you let out a big breath.
“You can’t say things that you don’t mean just because you’re upset. What you said really hurt my feelings and I don’t like feeling the way you made me feel when you were that angry. If we continue to be friends you can’t do that because it makes it hard for me to trust you and find what you’re saying believable.”
Your voice is hoarse and crackly from lack of use and Remus feels even worse. “I’ll do better, I swear. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you- it’ll never be, but I am sorry that I did.”
You nod once, succinct and definitive. Remus holds out the box to you, showing a puzzle you’d been eyeing for a while.
“Can we build it together?” He asks softly, an ebb of vulnerability given away as you catch his eyes.
“Okay, but we have to do corners first, then work our way in.” Remus nods, his other hand holding the flowers for you. The tulips are a pristine white.
“The lady at the shop said they’re good for conveying apologies.”
You smile a little, “These ones are also for condolences.” Remus shakes his head,
“Not this time,” he watches you put them in a vase of water. “Also, ‘if we continue to be friends’, thought we were a little closer than friends, sweet girl?”
He relishes in the way you bite your lip to hide your grin as you take the puzzle box from him and set it up on your coffee table.
“Well I wasn’t sure if you wanted to acknowledge it or not.”
Remus says very seriously as he sits opposite you at the coffee table, ducking down so he can catch your eyes as you take out the numbered bags. “I’m always acknowledging it, we’re more than friends dove. When everything’s not so fucked, I’ll take you out and do it with pink and red lilies.”
#remuslupin#remus lupin#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fic#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x yn#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x black!reader#remus lupin angst#dealer!remus lupin#dealer!remus#tism🤝
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sequel pt. 2
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“why were you ignoring my calls?”
after two weeks of purposely dodging haechan’s presence, he had finally cornered you by ringing your doorbell on a friday night; a night when he knows you would be wide awake until god knows when.
haechan peeks at the television at your back, “and watching a film without me, too?”
good for you, though. you are good at making excuses.
realizing you were in love with your best friend haechan made it seem difficult to get by. ever since mark pointed out you would literally do anything for him in a heartbeat, you became extremely conscious. sure, there was a distinct line between liking and loving. you were aware you liked him, but loving sure is a big word.
and everyone saw it except you.
and the worst thing that could probably happen is haechan seeing it, too.
usually, haechan would walk directly toward your living room, but you’re still holding the door. haechan attempts to put one foot forward, but you are doing all your might to block his way.
“i was busy.”
“bullshit.”
“i can’t be busy now?”
“it’s 11 pm.”
“i can’t go beyond that?”
“you never work at this hour.”
“i have a lot of…”, you turned your head at the back, attempting to look at your surrounding to salvage your excuses but miserably failed. fuck, a deer caught in the headlights. "stuff.”
“holy shit.”, haechan exclaimed. “you’re really bad at this.”
“jesus, fuck! what do you want?”
“i wanna be with you.”
maybe if you were really not into your best friend who has a way with his words, you would completely laugh it off. but no, you were dumbfounded, hopeful, and taken aback.
“what?”
“said i wanna be with you.”
you just stared at haechan. could he possibly be…?
“who’s gonna take care of you, huh? who’s gonna be there when you trip on the sidewalk when you’re shitfaced? who’s gonna buy you dinner when you refuse to move until you finish your work?”
you tilted your head and leaned against the doorframe. your faces are just inches away from each other. haechan cupped your cheeks until he reached down your chin. “who’s gonna wipe your tears away when you’re sad, hmm?”
your lips ajar, trying to comprehend what he had just said. haechan lee just might have listed down the things he would willingly want to continue doing with and for you. and your heart might just have liked every bit of the sound he uttered.
“so… are you gonna let me in or what?”, haechan stared intently at your eyes. you just wanted this moment to last longer. this close, this proximity, you hope it gets a little closer. your gaze grazes on his plump lips, and it takes a lot of your courage right now to not kiss him.
“oh, yeah.”, you opened the door wider and haechan took a few steps forward, almost reaching the center of your living room.
but his steps faltered when his phone rang.
haechan stood just there and answered.
“yeah, yeah, yeah. just stay there. i’m coming.” — these were the words you heard, and in a heartbeat, he was on his way to finding the exit.
“but you just dropped by, haech…?”
“sorry. she needs me.”
“she?”
“oh, yeah. i’ll introduce you to her.”, haechan did not even spare looking at you. he was just texting on his phone, a bit in a hurry. “she’s a keeper. you’re gonna love her.”
you felt your heart sink but your feet did you no justice; you followed him like a little kid full of wonder and questions. and when your stop reaches back to your door, he slowly turned around and said:
“please don’t… don’t leave me ever again.”, haechan bit his lip. you can see how his eyes glisten, almost teary-eyed. “you’re my everything and more.”
there you saw haechan go. slipping through your fingers, just when you thought you had wrapped him around your finger just like what you are for him.
and you might just have another excuse to continue distancing yourself from the things he made you feel special and needed, and everything and more. no more trouble because the answer was plain and simple all along:
it’s because i love you, haechan lee.
#haechan angst#haechan oneshot#haechan fluff#haechan fic#haechan smut#haechan x reader#haechan scenario#haechan imagine#haechan imagines#nct dream donghyuck#nct scenarios#nct x gender neutral reader#nct x reader#nct fic#nct imagine#nct 127#nct imagines#haechan#nct fanfic#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#nct dream oneshot#nct dream drabble#nct dream#haechan x you#haechan x y/n#haechan x oc
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made for you - puppet au
Summary: In a steampunk-esque setting, your guardian-slash-mentor left you with one thing after their passing—a self-autonomous puppet that was designed to blend in with humans, who would protect and accompany you in your mentor’s absence.
Characters: Floyd, Ace, Cater, Lilia
Warnings: mentions of blood in Lilia's!
Floyd
Outsiders might complain about Floyd’s flippant change in moods, saying that you seemed to be the only person he doesn’t get annoyed with.
In two ways this judgment was flawed: they didn’t know he was a puppet (and so thought he was merely a scary traveling partner of yours), and he does get mad at you sometimes. Namely when you do things for others that he thinks are unnecessary, because why do you have to be the nice one and try to maintain relations with people you weren’t even close with?
Floyd never got why you stress yourself out with things like that—and if you told him to help you with such tasks? Expect him to either turn to a game of cat and mouse (behind your back, he’s the cat and some other person is the mouse) or fulfill it with a dangerous gleam in his eyes when a stranger sees him, saying ‘don’t approach me, I’m really not in the mood’.
He rarely directs his frustration at you, though. Call it part of his design or whatever, but for the most part he’s more lax around you, slinging his arm over your shoulder or asking if you wanted to do (insert unhinged scheme) with a casual tone.
You worry about the people that he does get into fights with. Floyd doesn’t pay much attention to his inhuman strength and things can get awkward when people question it—leaving you to stand there, contemplating if you should reveal the truth.
But… while Floyd doesn’t really care for the distinction between being human and not (as long as you treat him as equals), he finds it fun when people think he’s just an unpredictable human. The looks on their faces and struggle when he tests their limits are always a sight to behold.
Humans really are quite amusing—but of course, you’re his favorite one.
Ace
Ace has an inner conflict, one could say.
As charismatic as he can be (and by god was he a convincing actor), Ace would always, at the back of his mind, be conscious of the fact that he wasn’t human.
Nevermind the fact he’s probably more humane than some people out there, but he always has the feeling that it wasn’t enough. There’s a type of jealousy that crops up whenever he sees you interacting with people—he’s not sure if he’s jealous of the way you are, with your quirks and emotions that he idealizes despite how he claims otherwise, or if he’s jealous of the others around you.
He’d never fall sick or actually feel physical pain. He could be repaired so long as his core was salvageable, and so Ace could never be your friend in the way he might want to be. He wonders, sometimes, that in an alternate world—if he was human, would you look towards him the same way you do now? Would you still pick him within an ocean of so many, if he wasn’t a puppet crafted by your mentor?
Instead of expressing this, Ace of course directs these feelings into a personality that’s a little bratty. He’d challenge your requests at times, asking if it was an ‘order’ and only complying if you pushed back.
You’ll hear a lilt in his voice when he calls you ‘Master’ mockingly. For the most part Ace’s mean streak isn’t that bad though—he does show concern for you and is essentially a best friend that keeps you grounded. Sometimes you wonder if he actually liked being bossed around, thinking of it as a way to acknowledge the odd relationship you had.
You don’t see him as a servant or object, but perhaps he finds some comfort in the idea that he was made for you. That way, your attachments to one-another was completely normal—you’d always pick him, right?
Cater
Cater is a puppet that lets you know his world revolves around you, if only to see the adorable expressions you make in response.
He doesn’t care for his own maintenance that much, nor about hurting himself in your defense or while doing tasks. Cater’s good at masking such things too, with long-sleeved or layered clothing to hide his mechanical injuries away. He says it’s unsightly and he’ll just fix it himself later, but you always recognise when he’s lying about how it’s ‘not that bad’.
It makes an odd feeling ache in his chest whenever you do that, making him sit down in the privacy of your inn room so you could patch him up. There’s an unreadable look in his gaze at times like those, asking you if you saw him as someone that could actually get hurt. You said yes. Cater makes sure to remember that.
He’s flirty most of the time, acting good-natured with others but obviously trying to charm you in particular. People tend to think you’re a couple because of that, and is it so bad if Cater kind of likes the sound of it?
He enjoys how genuine of a person you are—sure, everyone has their own thoughts and darker side that they keep to themselves, but he’s never detected falsehoods in your emotions towards him. Maybe it helps that you know he’s a puppet—why would you feel the need to guard yourself from him the same way as others?
He likes this exclusivity he has to the different sides of you, especially since he’s a key link to your past. It’s also easier to focus his time and energy on someone else than the gloom that sometimes spreads in his system, which was surely just another mechanical flaw.
"I'm just supposed to make sure you're happy, Master~ So don’t worry about it!"
Lilia
No one would suspect that your cute companion would have a rather… uncompromising side, with it came to getting rid of nuisances that threatened your safety.
In his defense, he was kind of built to be a deadly weapon—the world is a dangerous place after all, and Lilia doesn’t mind being the one that protects you from those that may do you harm. Your mentor dabbled in areas that garnered them enemies, thus the association and knowledge you possessed was a dangerous light to greedy moths.
You never actually witness how he is in combat, though. Lilia always returns from his missions quietly, wiping the scratches and blood off of his synthetic skin. He greets you with a smile if you’re still awake at that point in the night, and you’re none-the-wiser about the expressions he can make when he gets serious on the field.
It’s night and day, the difference between how he is there versus how he is when mingling with people or with you. Lilia likes how you rely on him during your travels. He has a backlog of historical knowledge that he collected shortly after he was crafted, but nothing compares to actually being in different nations and seeing things with your own two eyes.
He enjoys calling your name in a familiar tone and hearing you do the same. Lilia hopes to be a presence that reminds you of home, so it’s only natural that he cherishes the lighthearted and heart-to-heart conversations you have.
Leave the bodyguard work to him; there’s a reason your mentor made a puppet for this purpose, after all. And honestly, Lilia’s quite happy with the way his life was right now. It was much richer than the endless clockwork of a workshop, and pretty things that did nothing compared to your warm words and sparkle in your eyes that was so undeniably human.
#(Yes#this was vaguely inspired by the latest event cards. Hope you enjoy!)#twisted wonderland#ace trappola x reader#floyd leech x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#cater diamond x reader#twst x reader#twst reader insert#twst x you#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland imagines#twst x y/n#storm writings
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the waiter
tasm!peter x reader
summary:
"the waiter was flirting with you"
"what?"
"he couldn't stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head."
warnings: pure fluff, baby.
"hey," peter whispers to you, a bit urgently.
you don't look up from your menu, thinking fanciful thoughts of bankrupting peter. "hmm?"
"we have to go."
you look up, frowning.
peter's got an urgent look on his face. his frown matches yours.
if he didn't look so disturbed you might take the moment to appreciate the shirt he's wearing, sleeves rolled up past his forearm. you might even stare a little bit.
but peter is frowning. and there is something wrong.
"what?" you ask him, looking around. "what's going on?"
"we have to leave."
peter does not elaborate any further, because why would he?
"okay..." you drawl, blinking at him. "why?"
you look out the window to your left for any incoming disasters. if there was a possibility that anyone in this restaurant were to get hurt, you're sure peter wouldn't be just sitting there, waiting to have a conversation about death.
but there's no monster outside. no robberies. no impending doom that he might need to tend to.
your brow furrows even deeper. you stare at him, expectant.
"the waiter was flirting with you," peter mutters, casting a glance toward the man on the other side of the restaurant.
the man who you thought was perfectly pleasant, thank you very much.
"what?"
"he couldn't stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head."
you snort, a bit confused. "peter," you say, a strange sort of smile on your face. "what?"
"if i have to watch him drool all over you again, i might spontaneously combust."
you close your menu, staring at him.
"i'm serious, babe, we have to go."
"we already ordered bread. and drinks."
"i'll pay triple however much that cost. the waiter gets no tip," peter furrows his brows, considering. "okay, fine. he gets fifteen percent."
"how chivalrous."
"baby," peter whines, like a child. you might find it a little bit cute. "please? i'm having a hard enough time already."
"what?" you frown. "why?"
he blinks at you. does a slow up and down your body, raising his eyebrows.
you think back to hands that had lingered on every inch of skin they could find on the way there. about eyes that could've burned you to the core.
"oh," you cross your arms, self-conscious. "i thought you were kidding earlier when you said that--"
peter stares at you blankly.
"okay. not kidding."
his head drops down to the table, and if not for his muffled voice you might hear him groan.
"leaf pile," you coo, softly. "i think it'll be alright. i'll even hold your hand when he comes back over."
peter does not budge at the nickname, but you snicker internally, reaching a hand out to mess up his hair.
he sits up, fixing it with a frown--as if it's at all salvageable.
"is this what we've come to?" peter asks you, shaking his head. "you have to bribe me with affection? you only want to hold my hand to turn away the poor waiter--"
"it's always been like this."
peter points a finger at you. "not true."
you scoff. "on our first date you tried to get me to stay up all night so we could watch the sunset--"
"--that would've been romantic."
"--and i had to bribe you with a goodnight kiss. just so you would let me go home."
peter smiles like he's still pleased with himself. "you didn't want to leave. i was trying to help."
"you just wanted to make out on the subway."
"that's disgusting," peter says, looking away from you finally. his menu is still open, on the table, waiting to be looked at. "we could go to the diner across from your apartment."
"we went there last week."
"great service," peter says, nonchalantly.
"this is supposed to be a fancy date, peter."
"what's fancier than sharing a milkshake?"
"crème brûlée."
peter purses his lips, a hand going to scratch at his lips. there are about ten seconds of silence.
you use it to stare at him and wonder how he could possibly feel intimidated by anyone else.
"fine," peter says, "we'll order dessert to go. and then we'll go get pizza."
you open your mouth. close it.
"you like pizza," peter reassures you.
"i also like having a nice dinner with my boyfriend."
"that can be arranged."
you sigh. "even if we order dessert to go, we'll still have to talk to david again."
peter gawks at you. "you know his name?"
"he literally introduced himself. it was the first thing he said."
"you remembered his name?"
you wave a hand. "peter. you don't need to be jealous. maybe he just saw something on my face."
peter sits back and crosses his arms. he raises an eyebrow at you, to which you smile back innocently.
he says i know what you're doing without the words.
"there's nothing on your face," peter says, dryly. "besides pure perfection."
you giggle.
peter runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "you're right," he relents, sighing.
"it's okay, baby, like i said--"
"it doesn't matter where we go," peter interrupts. "everyone's going to stare at you anyway."
"...not where i was going with that."
"i guess i just need to accept reality."
"i don't think--"
"i mean," peter finally looks you right in the eye, a hint of a smile playing on his face. "how lucky am i?"
your face goes blank, for just a moment.
and then, completely despite yourself, you smile at him, skin tingling at the intensity of his stare.
of his teasing and gentle laughter as he smiles back.
and, really, it's not your fault that you have to lean across the table to kiss him.
he's just so goddamn irresistible.
after a couple of seconds--and an ahem from the table beside you--you sit back down, opening your menu once again. you smile while you try and decide what to eat.
and try to come up with the perfect way to get peter back for all of that. you've gotten as far as thanking the waiter profusely when he comes back.
it's only a minute later when he whispers to you:
"can i at least order the most complicated thing on the menu just to mess with him?"
*
my masterlist here.
tags: @moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf
#peter parker#tasm peter parker#peter parker x reader#tasm peter x reader#tasm!peter fluff#spider-man#spider man#the amazing spider-man#The Amazing Spider Man#Andrew!Spiderman#the amazing spider man imagine#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter smut#tasm!fluff#tasm!peter x reader#andrew peter parker#andrew garfield#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader#andrew!spiderman imagine
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"how to get your crush to like you back in 3 easy steps"
or: dan heng likes you. march knows.
dan heng x f!reader. pining fools and idiots in love. march is close to having a metaphorical heart attack. cliche shoujo stuff.
"you have a crush on her."
"i absolutely do not."
march fixes dan heng with an unimpressed gaze. "you are literally so obvious, don't even try and deny it again."
obvious? he's obvious? dan heng tries not to panic. in a poor attempt to salvage the unsalvageable, he says, lamely, "...i don't know what you're talking about."
graciously preserving the little dignity he has left, march ignores him. she claps him on the shoulder sympathetically. "don't worry, i'm a pro wingwoman. i accept payment in the form of desserts."
dan heng's right eye twitches.
1. show interest in their interests, pay attention to them.
that's easy, he thinks to himself. he always pays attention to you, it comes naturally to him. he knows how you prefer your coffee with a dash of milk and honey, not too sweet. he knows how you always start books but rarely ever finish them unless they were "really good and checked all my boxes!" and could go on thesis-worthy rants about your favourite ones. he knows how you like to keep succulents on your table and give them all ridiculous names like "king coin of doge land" and "a rad little guy".
so easy, in fact, that he feels the most confident he's ever been as he strides across the room over to you. you’re fiddling with something, looking vaguely nervous as you talk to march.
"good morning." he greets, eyeing the newest project you seem to be occupied with in your hands. a crotchet dragon, how nice. he knows exactly how to keep the conversation going now—
"what's cookin', good lookin'?"
his brain short circuits.
what is he supposed to say to that? were you flirting? does he flirt back? was it just a phrase? what's cooking-?
"but i'm not on cooking duty today."
dan heng watches your face freeze in confusion. his face feels like stone. to the side, march looks like she’s about to strangle him.
"...uh huh."
an awkward silence hangs in the air. dan heng wishes he was a statue.
— a failure, cut your losses and move on.
2. compliment something they’ve put effort into.
“please elaborate.”
“say something you like about her.” march takes a bite of her parfait (courtesy of dan heng), “but it has to be something she put conscious thought into. it shows that you notice the little things, and it makes her feel good about herself which makes her feel good about you. bam! two birds with one stone.”
dan heng only feels more confused. “but i like everything about her.”
even with the sweet treat in her mouth, march looks like she tasted something sour.
“so do i compliment her on everything i can think of?”
“no, no. you-“ march heaves a sigh, “pick one. just one.”
when he sees you in the archive room, he notices the now completed crotchet dragon in your hand. he decides that this is the perfect time to redeem himself.
“it’s well-made. i like the teal colour.” he says, and mentally congratulates himself for not messing up right off the bat (again).
“thank you, it’s, um, actually supposed to be the dragon you summon.”
“oh.” dan heng’s mind had been so occupied with march’s plans and you that he didn’t even make the connection. he feels just a little stupid.
“…and it’s for you.”
“oh.” a gift from you? and it was made exclusively to represent him, with hours of effort? he is in shock.
he must have taken too long to answer, because you notice the hesitation. flushing with embarrassment, you say “it’s a little much, huh? sorry.”
dan heng doesn’t manage to get a word in (because he would love to have the crotchet dragon, thank you very much!) before you scurry out the door. it clicks as it shuts, his outstretched hand reaching for nothing but air.
— i don’t want to call you a dumbass, but you’re kind of being a dumbass.
3. find time alone with them.
“i’ll help you with this one. but when you’re alone with her, you’re on your own.” march looks mildly concerned, “…will you be ok?”
“of course.” he says, and it’s merely bravado.
“right, well, i managed to convince mr. yang, miss himeko, and pom pom to visit this café with me—you’re paying, of course—it’s a rare opportunity so make full use of it, ‘kay?”
alone on the express. with you. no one else. no big deal, he tries to convince himself.
they keyword is ‘tries’, of course.
when the time comes, he gathers all the courage he has and, hopefully nonchalantly, asks you to watch a movie with him with a mini projector march had lent him beforehand. you agree, and it’s the first hurdle cleared. no mishaps so far.
“i’ll make you coffee, the way you like it.” he offers, and feels a flutter in his chest when you smile. if he could, he would bottle the feeling you gave him up and ration it throughout the rest of his life.
“i would love that.”
he gets to work, prepping the sugar and honey as he waits for the water to boil. the conversation between the two of you comes easily, as if the recent incidents didn’t happen at all, and dan heng feels the familiar serenity that comes from being in your presence. it was quiet save for your conversation, and the backdrop of stars outside the train seemed to be even more mesmerising than usual.
but of course, not everything goes according to plan.
the astral express, which had been sailing through the stars so smoothly, lurches from sudden turbulence. you bump against the kettle when you try to stabilise yourself and knock it over. boiling water spills all over the counter and onto the floor.
“watch out!”
not wanting you to be scalded, he grabs your arm and tries to push you away with his back towards the spillage. but his foot steps on the water and he slips, falling forward.
the two of you land on the floor in a heap, inches away from the spill. pure reflexes allow him to minimise the impact of your head meeting the floor by using his other hand as a cushion. he thinks he has bruised his knuckles. he has sprained his wrist.
the thought of the compromising position doesn’t even cross either of your minds. you crawl out from underneath him, and, perceptive as ever, notice when he rubs his wrist and winces.
“dan heng! are you ok?” you fuss over him, hands flitting over his wrist. dan heng feels like he would have enjoyed the attention more if he wasn’t so disappointed that his plans were disrupted. it had been going so well, he mourns. he watches as your back disappears around the corner with promises of finding the first aid kit.
it’s hard for the previous tranquil atmosphere to come back when you obviously felt bad about his wrist (even thought he assured you it was alright and not to worry), and his plans were derailed. the both of you work together to clean up the mess, which took some time, and try to enjoy the movie, but the momentum was lost.
— …
“what do you mean all my plans went bust? i worked so hard to convince pom pom to come with me!” march looks at you in horror.
“i don’t know! i thought you said you were a pro at this! i tried the pick-up line, i tried giving him a gift, and i even spent time alone with him, nothing worked! am I just inept at this love thing?” you shake her by the shoulders, tears of frustration on the edge of falling. march could only feel wronged.
“oh my god. you’re both idiots.”
#march has an aneurysm#so dumb#i want to give dan heng a fat kiss#writings#dan heng x reader#dan heng#hsr x reader#hsr fluff#hsr dan heng#hsr
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So last night I was watching the JLU episode "The Man Who Has Everything" and the plot synopsis was, "Wonder Woman and Batman visit Superman at the Fortress of Solitude for his birthday, only to discover he's been captured by Mongul." And I'm walking in like "Cool, fun, I'm going to see Bruce and Diana punching Mongul while surrounded by a whole bunch of nifty little Fortress of Solitude easter eggs" but NO it turns out that 80% of the episode is Clark trapped in an Illusory Krypton where he has everything he wanted and it turns out that just boils down to being a chill Dad on a farm (but also the farm is on Krypton which didn't die and also his dad is still alive). And when Clark finally realizes that this Krypton is an illusion, he takes his son by the shoulders and he's like "I love you and I'm so proud of you and I remember the day you were born and how it was the happiest day of my life and I am packed with all of these amazing memories of watching you grow up but I don't think you're real" and you straight-up feel your heart get ripped out of your chest at the concept of Supes having to make the conscious decision to part with all this to get back to reality and save his friends
And when Superman finally breaks free of the illusory Krypton he goes completely apeshit on Mongul and it's so satisfying.
But then also Bruce gets trapped in the same 'prison of what you most desire' and it turns out he just wants to see his dad beat the shit out of the dude that killed him and Martha.
It's honestly kind of funny because Clark's 'perfect prison' was this highly complex conceptualization of Krypton where Jor-El is talking about how it took him years to salvage his reputation after mistakenly predicting Krypton's destruction, and Clark's wife is this obvious fusion of both Lois and Lana, and Clark has to remind his kid to take the dog out, and it keeps cutting back to Bruce's fantasy which is just "Hell yeah, Thomas, beat his ass."
#something something bruce being a traumatized kid with a funky relationship to violence at his core#something something Clark's fantasy still embodying this enormous sense of responsibility he feels towards other people#justice league unlimited#and also WHY THE HELL WOULD THEY AGE UP JON KENT WHEN THIS IS SUCH A GOOD CHARACTERIZATION OF SUPERMAN#HIS DEEPEST DESIRE WAS STRAIGHT UP JUST BEING A DAD AND THEY CHUCKED HIS SON IN A TIME WARP#dc#superman#batman
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The Green-Eyed Monster
After a particularly shitty day, refuge in alcohol seems like the best option to help Jake recover from his poor mood. Y/n, his long time girlfriend joins him and his bandmates at the bar with high hopes to salvage the night. Jealousy, which had never been in Jake’s vocabulary, makes its first groundbreaking presence and laughs at its own disastrous effects.
Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader
Word count: 17k (oops 🤭)
Warnings: SMUT 18+ (actual filth), unprotected sex (wrap it), borderline hate-fucking, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dom/sub, degradation, name-calling, slapping, spanking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, touch of bratty sub, biting, mutual masturbation, praise, pet-names, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, drinking, toxic themes, angst (with a happy ending, pinky promise), arguments, probably definitely missed some, sorry!!
Here’s some filthiness with a touch of toxicity and angst because my last few posts were a bit too sweet 🥰 had to switch it up somehow. got a little carried away with this bad boy. had to cut some out cause i got too into it, so if it seems a little fast paced at the end, please keep that in mind! just couldn’t stop myself. it’s long, smutty, intense and does end well, i promise 😃 also very poorly proof-read cause i can’t sleep and decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow, so please be nice. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻
also, side note: all of the love I’ve received for Picasso has made my heart incredibly happy. I was very nervous posting it, and you guys really eased my worry. I appreciate you all dearly, your kindness makes me want to keep writing ♥️
~
Jake was in a terrible mood, and there was no doubt about that. Perhaps in the beginning, the idea of a lighthearted night at the bar was intriguing; something to take his mind off his mistakes in the studio earlier that morning, and hopefully to make up for his and Josh’s incessant bickering. It didn’t take long for that idea to turn sour in his mind, too. By the time you both realized it wasn’t going to brighten his spirits, you were already clad in a miniskirt and low cut body suit, hanging over the bar-top to tip the bartender. He thought it best to keep his mood to himself and just try to enjoy the sight of you all dressed up. It worked for a while; the tension remained minimal due to his hand permanently anchored to your hip, reminding him of all he had to be grateful for.
Once he’d gotten a few drinks into him, the familiar smile you loved so much started to grace his lips. The tension in his shoulders melted slightly, leaving him lax against the back of the dirty bar booth. His protective grip around your waist had turned into a loose hang over your shoulders, gently guiding you into his side with a loving undertone. Every so often, he even managed a laugh at his brothers antics, leaving you to believe the night may still be saved. But, only to your trained eye, you could still notice the cloud of irascible energy in his eyes.
You were quite certain that when he’d arrived back to your shared home earlier that day, the bedroom would never recover from the shock of the pornographic scene. You’d been able to pick up on his frustration through limited texts, only to have the speculation solidified when you finally caught sight of the expression on his face as he walked through the front door. When it never came, an uneasiness settled in your stomach. Jake’s favourite method of stress-relief was fucking you, which was always quite fine by you. Knowing that he still had all of the pent up anger left you conscious of the fact the night was teetering on a thin line; if it went well, no harm nor foul. If not, you were going to have to plan ahead for a rest and recovery period.
You were more than shocked when your long-term boyfriend pitched the idea of joining his brothers at the bar. In his ill-temper, he usually turned into a bit of a recluse. But, you thought it best to go along with the idea. If he thought it would cheer him up, you were happy to oblige, and never complained about seeing his band mates. They’d turned into the best of friends over the years, and they were your favourite company to keep aside from Jake. You opted to believe it couldn’t be the worst idea in the world. So that’s where you ended up: sitting in a bar booth with Jake wrapped around you and laughing alongside the other three boys.
They’d picked a small bar that you all frequented. It had low traffic and strong drinks to keep spirits high. There were dart boards, pool tables, complimentary table peanuts and some slot machines if you ever decided to try your luck. They kept a steady stream of dad rock flowing through the sound system when the karaoke wasn’t open to the public, and the bartenders had grown into acquaintances over the months of regular visits. If you were to go to any bar, this was the perfect one to choose. You all had yet to have a bad experience, aside from an occasional wandering hand from a too-drunk regular, or a drunken snide comment that was easily brushed off. The night was destined to be good, assuming Jake was kept in good spirits.
You picked up a shelled peanut, cracking the soft exterior with your thumb. You took one half of the shell and placed it on your napkin, and took the other one and tossed it across the booth. It hit Sam in the side of the head, as he was turned to speak to Danny who was beside him. He whipped his head towards you, the soft thud of the impact catching his attention. He immediately knew the culprit, as you’d been doing it intermittently the entire time you’d been there. You gave him a sweet smile, one filled with innocence, as if to say you would never do such a thing. His accusatory stare made it difficult to hold back laughter. He picked up the shell, which had fallen anticlimactically to the table, and tossed it back in your direction. It bounced off your chin and dropped down into your shirt, causing an eye roll from you. Sam pointed a finger at you, a silent warning not to do it again. You picked it from your cleavage and placed it with the rest of the waste atop the napkin. You vowed to leave him alone, just long enough for him to forget about it, then strike again.
Josh, who was caught in conversation with his twin brother, suddenly smacked his palms against the tabletop, catching you by surprise and making you jump. You turned your attention to him, eager to know what the disturbance was about. “Drinks!” He announced. “One for you, brother dearest?” He asked Jake. He gave him a nod. Josh’s eyes trailed to your glass, noticing the liquid threatening the end and muddled with melted ice. “And for you, pretty lady?” He asked, flashing a smile. Nobody else noticed, but Jake’s eye gave a small twitch, and his jaw clenched at the term of endearment.
“Another Mojito, please.” You grinned, not willing to pass up an offer of a free drink. He had no worries buying them for you. You and Josh had been playing the same game for half a decade; he’d do something nice for you, and you’d hit him back with something even better the next time. The timeless battle had begun after you both had realized arguments of payments and repayments were getting you nowhere. Jake had found it endearing, never a worry in his mind about anything non-platonic. He trusted you with his life, as he did with Josh. He was more than happy that you were so close with his brothers, and would be the first to speak up if he were uncomfortable. But, the war had gone to extremes by times, ranging from signed albums from big music names they’ve met, to rarity collectors editions of his absolute favourite films. If the tally was still running, the amount of money and thought you’d put into each other would be unfathomable.
You looked over to your boyfriend, picking up on the sullen attitude once more. He caught your eye and you gave him an inquisitive look, but he just shook his head. You thought it best not to push him, instead leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Before you pulled away, he turned and gave you a real kiss, holding you there for a moment. When he pulled back, he gave you a small smile. You felt your nerves fizzle away, finding comfort in the small gesture. He was really good with always making sure you knew he wasn’t mad at you while he was generally upset. It was a small, constant reassurance that helped guide you through his occasional short temper.
When Josh returned, he placed everyone’s respective drink in front of them. “Thanks, darlin’.” You smiled, stirring the drink with your straw. You took a sip, a hum of gratitude immediately sounding from you. Mindless chatter ensued for a few moments, nothing of importance being spoken into existence. Then, the music over the speakers started to get louder and the lights were dimmed. The trashy coloured lights surrounding the dance floor flicked on, letting everyone know the time had hit double digits. A familiar note sounded, causing you to perk up instantly. Josh caught your eye, raising his eyebrow and nodding to the open dance area.
Without a second thought, you jumped up, reaching your hand out to him. It was a simple action, one that you’d done thousands of times over the years of you and Jake dating, and it had never been an issue. Jake was not a dancer, and you were sure he never would be. You theorized he may even try to skip out on your first dance at your wedding. Josh, on the other hand, was always happy to pick up the slack in that department.
You were a lighthearted spirit, one who loved fun and didn’t care about wandering eyes or judgment, not caring if your dancing or singing was making a fool of you. It was something that drew Jake to you in the first place, and he loved watching the sparkle in your eye as you lived your life to the fullest. He was usually happy that someone was always willing to dance with you; it ensured you were safe and it gave you someone to share a memory with. He was usually quite encouraging of Josh’s antics, especially because it meant the spotlight was off of him and he wouldn’t have to join you on the dance floor. He would never stop you from enjoying yourself, but certain things, as you’d come to understand, were just not Jake-esque.
That night, the sight of you so close with his brother, singing the song back to each other and him twirling you around, set him on fire. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was Josh’s unwavering pet names for you, or the way he always looked at you like he was head over heels for you, or the constant comments of Josh telling him how lucky he was. Or, how it looked like Josh was adding to your light, when in turn, sometimes Jake felt like he dimmed it. Especially on nights like that one, in particular, when he was perpetually angry and wasn’t sure how to shake it off. Or, maybe Jake was still pissed off at Josh’s critique and jabs at the studio when Jake was struggling to play his solos. Whatever it was, for the first time in his life, he was jealous of you and Josh. If looks could kill, his twin brother would have been on the floor.
“You okay?” Sam asked, picking up on Jake’s glare in the direction of the dance floor. His jaw was hard-set, knuckles white from the grip on his glass. Jake turned to face his younger brother, breaking out of the trance he’d found himself stuck in.
“Yeah.” Was all he replied, taking a long drink from his cup.
“It’s just Josh and y/n, they’ve always been like that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother.” Sam tried to ease the tension.
“Have they, though?” Jake snipped back, almost immediately. “Like that?” Sam and Danny looked towards you both, studying your actions for a moment. Eventually, they shrugged and gave a nod.
“Yeah.” Sam said, not finding anything out of the ordinary. “Come on, man. Josh would never do that to you, and neither would she. Y/n’s been head over heels for you since the day you met her.” Jake sent a look of warning to his sibling, silently telling him to stop trying to make the situation better. Jake knocked back the last of his drink, letting the bottom of the glass fall back on the table with a thud. Without another word, he stood and went to the bar.
As he waited for the bartender to fix his next drink, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back over to you. He expected you both to filter back to the booth when the song ended, but the next tune caught your attention, too. Josh had his hand on your hip, and yours was loosely hung around his neck. You were close to him, but not provocatively close. Still, to Jake, it was more than enough to get his blood boiling. You were laughing at him singing the lyrics to you, swaying your hips in time to the beat. Even in his jealousy, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. The wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes, the radiant grin, the way your hair cascaded down and framed your face. He thought you were breathtaking, and for once, he was envious he wasn’t up dancing with you, instead.
He hadn’t realized the song had ended until you presented yourself in front of him, breathless and buzzing with joy. He felt himself soften slightly when you wrapped your arm around his midsection and leaned into him. “Hi, handsome.” He could tell you were tipsy; he could hear it in your words. He let his hand fall from his drink, bringing it to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. The anger seemed to melt away as soon as you touched him, and he was fully engrossed in your presence. The thought of you dancing with Josh became a distant memory to him as soon as you stood on your tip-toes and placed a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, concern thick in your voice. He looked down at your face, not knowing exactly how to answer.
“I… I’m okay.” He assured you, leaning down for another kiss. He realized he may have been a bit irrational, especially now that you were with him, showing him ten times more affection than you were with his brother.
“You can talk to me, honey.” You pried just a little, hoping he might open up. He snaked his free hand around your waist, letting it rest dangerously low on your back.
“Think I just needed a kiss.” He brushed your concern off, but you could still sense the indifference in his voice.
“Whatever you say.” You hummed, turning towards the bar. He kept his hand on your lower back, but turned with you. He grabbed his drink and sipped at it while you caught the bartenders attention. He rushed over, giving you a smile.
“Mojito?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically, happy he remembered your order. He grabbed all of the ingredients, making small talk with you while he made your drink. “You’ve got some good dance moves.” He complimented. You let out a small laugh.
“Thanks, the really good ones only come out when I’m drinking.” You joked.
“We’ll have to keep them coming your way, then.” He said, placing the new cup in front of you. “There you go, beautiful.” The fire that had died down in Jake reignited as if the bartender had poured a gallon of gasoline on it. You noticed his grip on you tightened, and when you looked up you saw the tension of the muscles in his jaw. Jake grabbed his wallet and pulled out a bill. He threw it on the counter and guided you away before you could respond. You looked up at him, noticing the vibration of anger in his hands.
“Jake, what is going on with you?” You only let him lead you away so far before planting your feet on the ground, forcing him to stop with you. He turned his head towards you, eyes filled with an emotion you had never really seen from him before.
“Me?” He snapped. You recoiled at the harshness of his voice. You could see him soften a bit, but he was still ablaze with whatever he was feeling. “You’re all over Josh up there, and then you flirt with the bartender in front of me and I’m what? Just supposed to sit there and watch?”
“What?” You were certain you couldn’t have given him a look more bewildered than the one you were giving him, then. “Did me dancing with Josh bother you?” He didn’t respond, but his eyes did dart away from you. “Jake, I just… we always dance together. I didn’t really think… I’m sorry.”
“Fuck, no, y/n. I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and pushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it’s not like that. I’m just in a shitty mood, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“We can go home, baby.” You offered, making sure he knew you were okay with that, too.
“No, you’re having a good time. I just need to loosen up a bit, I guess.” He let out a small chuckle, one that was barely noticeable.
“I’d have just as good of a time at home, alone, with you,” you leaned up to his head, lips inches away from his ear “in bed, naked.” His arm around you tightened, pulling you into him slightly.
“Careful,” he warned. You placed a kiss to the sensitive area just below his ear, lingering there for a moment.
“Just so you know, the bartender could only have me in his dreams.” You whispered before you pulled away. “I go home to you, remember?” His lips upturned into a smug smile.
“Get over there and keep drinking,” he ordered “before I have to take you to the bathroom.” The look in his eye led you to believe he wasn’t joking. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, taken off guard by the bluntness of the statement. He gave you a wink, subtle enough to go unnoticed, but obvious enough to send a rush of arousal straight to your core. “Don’t get too drunk, though. I’ve got a long night planned for you.” He promised, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head, as if the words he said weren’t laced with filth.
You joined his brothers back at the booth, both of you sliding in as if nothing happened. Jake resumed his earlier position, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His whole aura was much lighter than it was a few moments before. As the boys divulged into conversation, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your interaction with Jake. He wasn’t a jealous person; in fact, you couldn’t recall a time off the top of your head where he had been. You’d been dating him for just over five years, knowing him better than anyone else. He could be slightly possessive at times, and even that was rare, but he was never outright jealous. Above all else, he was protective of you. He was always quite comfortable with the fact that you were his, and nobody stood a chance. At the same time, you’d never given him a reason to believe otherwise, because there was none. You were hopelessly in love with Jake, and always had been. To you, no other boy existed in that sense. He was everything you needed, and beyond that. Still, the idea of him radiating with jealousy sparked something inside of you. It was new, intense, and admittedly, very hot.
You shook the thought away, realizing it was not the best time to be thinking about how attractive you thought he was. You were broken from your thoughts when the volume at the table heightened. You looked up to see Sam and Danny locked in an arm-wrestling position. Josh had his hand on his brothers shoulder, encouraging him, while Jake was leaned in to the table slightly, cheering Danny on. You couldn’t help the laughs that you let out, finding the whole scene boyish and amusing. After a few moments of struggle, Danny took the win and pinned Sam’s arm down to the table. Jake let out a triumphant noise, removing his arm from your shoulder to reach across the table and giving Danny a congratulatory high-five.
“Pay up.” he said to Josh, now holding out his hand to his twin. Josh rolled his eyes, but fished his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a twenty, sliding it across the table. Jake grabbed it, a smug smirk on his lips, and put it in his own. The betting war between the brothers was uncontrollable. They loved to put money on the stupidest of things, and when there was nothing pre-existing to bet on, they made something up. It was never about the dollar amount, more so just bragging rights.
Jake rested against the booth again, the satisfaction of winning giving him some momentary cockiness. Instead of returning his arm around you, he let his hand rest on your thigh under the table. You did your best to keep your expression the same, trying not to focus on the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin. His fingers drifted under your skirt, slowly making their way between your legs. He let his hand rest stop there for a moment, not wanting to push you too much. “So, y/n,” Josh started, catching you off guard. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I think that pool table is calling our name.”
“Rematch from last time?” You joked, raising an eyebrow.
“Redemption is a better word.” He corrected.
“And if I beat you again?”
“You won’t.” He dismissed you, not even considering the possibility. “But, if on some off chance you do, dinner is on me the next time we go out.”
“You said that last time.” You teased. “No originality.” You let out a small tsk. He feigned a look of offence. The conversation was allowing you to take your mind off Jake’s wandering hand.
“Fine, what’s your idea?” He conceded.
“I don’t have a better one, I just like making fun of you.” You shrugged. “Anyone else care to join?” You asked the rest of the table. There was a mutter of agreements and nods. Josh slid out of his seat first, followed by Sam and Danny. Jake was hesitant to move his hand from your leg, holding you there for a moment. You turned your head to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look.
“Better not keep him waiting.” Jake murmured, looking over your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved his hand up a little further, fingers inches away from your underwear. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.
“Behave yourself, Jacob.” You said, your lips upturned into a smile, too.
“Mhm, careful.” He gave the same warning as earlier. You knew very well that in every sense, he was always going to be in charge when it came to anything bedroom related. Still, it always proved fun to push his buttons. He pulled his hand away, ushering you out of the booth. As you stood, he delivered a quick smack to your ass. You let out a gasp, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed. When you found you were in the clear, you gave him a glare over your shoulder. “Love you.” He said, smiling in response to your reaction.
Instead of answering, you began to walk away. He made a mental note, ensuring he would get you to say it, later. He followed you as you made your way to the pool table, where you both noticed that your company had picked up some extras. There were three new faces, two girls and a boy. “Ah, thanks for finally deciding to join us!” Sam bellowed as you walked up beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, in a very annoying younger brother type of way. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip.
“Who’s your new friends, Sammy? Had to find some people who don’t know enough about you to make fun of you, yet?” He let you go with a dramatic, but light, push.
“Get out of my face,” he said, a smirk on his lips.
“You love me.” You nudged him with your elbow.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Your eyes turned towards the new faces, taking in the sight. Both girls looked quite similar, and the guy was nothing like the boys you’d come to the bar with. He was tall, had short, blonde hair and bright eyes. “I don’t know their names. Josh started talking to them.” Sam shrugged.
“Figures,” you laughed, knowing all too well how much of a social butterfly he could be. Jake was standing behind you and Sam, opting to stay out of the conversation. Eventually, when Josh caught sight of you, he waved you over. You joined him, allowing him to introduce you to his new friends. The girls were friendly enough, but didn’t particularly stick out as memorable in your mind. The guy was nice, too, but his wandering eyes were very noticeable and very uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you all.” You addressed them all together.
“So, is this your girlfriend?” The guy asked Josh, which produced a booming laugh from both of you. Jake, on the other hand, did not find the question very funny. And he found Josh’s answer even less tasteful.
“A man can dream,” Josh sighed, humour clearly laced in his tone. You smacked his arm, chuckling at the thought. “Unfortunately, just my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime,” he paused, looking over to you. “Soulmate?”
“Too far,” you warned, but couldn’t help the smile that broke on your face. You knew he was drunk, just by the formulation of his words. The statement itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Josh loved teasing Jake, although he never really managed to bother him with it. That night, though, was an entirely different story. Every word that Josh spoke seemed to piss him off even more.
“So you’re on the market then?” The unfamiliar boy asked. Your eyes widened, shocked at the bluntness of his question. That seemed to be Jake’s breaking point, as he pushed through Danny and Sam to join the conversation. His arm snaked around your waist in an instant, the familiar feeling immediately comforting you.
“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm, but not threatening. When you looked up to see his face, you were certain that if his expression were rewritten in a comic, that would be the scene where smoke was coming from his ears.
“Ah, sister-in-law was probably a good descriptor, too.” Josh said, giggling at his brother. Jake shot him a glare in response.
“Sorry, man. Promise I didn’t mean any harm.” The boy raised his hands in defence, showing Jake he wasn’t trying to start anything. Jake calmed slightly, nodding in understanding.
“I think a game of pool will certainly lighten the mood!” Josh announced, drawing the attention away from the tense moment. He grabbed a cue from the rack on the wall, breaking up the group. The boy who you couldn’t really remember the name of followed Josh, leaving you and Jake to yourselves for a moment. The two girls were chattering amongst themselves, completely uninvolved in the situation.
“Soulmates, eh?” Jake looked down at you, a look of annoyance on his face.
“Jake,” you warned, giving him a pointed look. “If this is because I’m upsetting you in some way, let’s go and talk about it. If it’s just because you’re in a bad mood, quit it.” You told him. You weren’t mad at him, but you weren’t willing to be chastised all night when the root of the issue didn’t even begin with you. He’d never once had an issue with the nature of your’s and Josh’s relationship. The surfacing of his anger on a night where he’d already been upset seemed to be an indication that he wasn’t solely upset at Josh’s words, but more in general. He wasn’t the best at processing his emotions, and tended to direct them at smaller situations to avoid dealing with the main issue.
A note of apology flashed in his eyes at your words. Before he could answer, you broke away from him to grab a cue for yourself. He watched you, feeling a fizzle of regret form in his chest. You weren’t acting any different than any other night, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling from himself. He was too deep into his miserable mood to break out of it, now. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam called him over to the pool table next to the one you and Josh were playing on.
Josh had started the game, fully keeping your attention on the table rather than Jake’s sour mood. Sam and Jake had started their own game, eventually joined by Danny and one of the girls from Josh’s new posse of friends. The guy had moved on to try his luck with another group of people, clearly only at the bar in attempt to get laid. The second girl was hovering around the other part of your group, watching the game with intensity. You tried not to notice, but every so often her eyes would drift and land on Jake. You shook off the distraction, zoning back in on your own game. You lined up your cue with the cue ball, and shot at a solid ball. It rolled in flawlessly, and you moved on to the next.
“Cheater,” Josh grumbled as he watched your next ball sink, too.
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You shrugged.
“Could never hate you, mama. Just strongly dislike you.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a scoff of disbelief, knowing for certain there was no world to exist where Josh would dislike you, or anyone, for that matter.
When your turn finished, you stepped back to observe his. As he lined up his shot, your eyes drifted over to the table next to you, finding Jake and Sam laughing at a joke one of the girls had spewed out. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from Jake’s smiling face, trying not to focus on it. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about how that was the happiest he looked all night. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at him for questioning your loyalty, you couldn’t find it within yourself. Yet, anyway. The sight produced more sadness than anything else. You swallowed your insecurity, chalking it up to you overthinking the situation.
The night carried on, the empty glasses piling up by the pool tables, and your inhibitions greatly diminished. You and Jake had silently made the agreement to steer clear of each other in avoidance of a blowout at the bar. You stuck with Josh, bouncing from pool, to darts, and even the dance floor a few times. Jake found himself constantly engrossed in the nameless bimbo that had taken an interest in him. Somewhere between drink seven and double digits, you’d both engaged in undiscussed competition to see who could piss the other off, more. When the clock neared twelve, the karaoke section of the bar opened up. After picking up another beverage at the bar, Josh was pulling you in the direction of the stage.
He put the songs in, shutting down your inquiries and telling you it was a surprise. When you both got on stage and grabbed a mic, Jake was seething before the first note of the song played. “Seriously, Josh?” You laughed as the name of the song flashed across the screen.
“Come on! It was a good choice.” He grinned.
“You’re trying to start shit.” Still, even as you scolded him, his drunken delight was incredibly entertaining.
“He’s being an asshole,” he said, making sure his mouth was away from the mic. “I’m sure he’s trying to do the same thing with her.” His eyes floated in the direction of his twin, who now had his arm hung loosely over the other girls shoulders, similar to his hold on you earlier in the night. Red flashed in your eyes, but instead of lingering, you turned to Josh, no longer worried about the choice of music.
“Let’s give a performance of a lifetime.” Was all you replied. He smiled, happy you were on the same page. You both divulged into the song, very dramatically singing the words to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John.
By the end of the song, you had almost completely forgotten about Jake by the pool table. You weren’t sure if it was because of the liquor in your system, or the sheer amount of fun you were having. You were still a bit breathless by the time Josh’s second choice lit up the screen. This one, although not a duet, was probably one of the most venomous choices he could have made. Mixed between Jake’s love for Jimi Hendrix, how often Jake played it and dedicated the song to you, and the connotation of the lyrics, you were surprised Jake didn’t get up on stage and strangle Josh in retaliation. Your eyes widened, looking over at him in concern.
“He’s been mad at me all day, and he’s taking it out on you. Let him be upset, he’s being a dick.” Josh said, his words assuring you that he would take the heat for the song choice. It felt nice to know that Josh also thought Jake was acting out of character; jealousy had never been in his vocabulary, and the toxic game you found yourselves caught in was something you had never done before. You and Jake had barely had more than an argument in your years of dating. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it became. He had a short temper, but you couldn’t recall a time it had ever been pointed at you, let alone caused a spiteful interaction. As much as it was hurting your feelings, it was fuelling an anger within you that you weren’t sure even existed before that night. The liquor and the sour mood didn’t mix, and you should have known that from the beginning, but had no idea it would divulge into anything close to whatever the current situation was.
By that point, all of the boys had caught on to the tense nature. Sam and Danny were baffled that Jake was even willing to put his focus on another girl, let alone his hands. He was nothing if not loyal to you. Usually, his eyes would never even drift to another girl. Everybody was more than aware that he loved you as much as his music, if not more. They were also very aware that you and Josh were acting out of retaliation, fuelling the fire and hoping to get the last dig in and end it for good. The girl remained quite oblivious to the whole affair, just happy to be receiving some of the attention. Sam let out a long exhale as Josh began to sing you the lyrics to ‘Foxey Lady’, him and Danny certain that this was the brutal climax to the entire night. Jake was vibrating with anger, and there was no consolidation when you’d given up your hesitancy and sang it back to him. Sam and Danny shared a look, silently agreeing that they were going to have to put a stop to the situation one way or another before it got too out of hand.
Jake bargained with his temper, deciding on how to respond. Anger would be too easy, and too obvious. So instead, his course of action was the most disastrous one he could think of. Rationality was completely out the window by that point. He grabbed the girls hand, who he still hadn’t learned the name of (and he didn’t really care, quite frankly), and pulled her towards the dance floor. You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in the singing and laughter you were sharing with Josh. Everyone else did, however, and were awaiting the storm that was brewing. At the height of the song, you finally noticed that Josh had become a bit distracted from the performance. You looked to him, realizing he was staring off at the dance floor, and followed his gaze.
You cut off your singing mid-sentence, your heart plummeting to your stomach. Jake was dancing, in midst of twirling around the girl he’d been using as leverage all night. When he pulled her back in, his hand rested on her hip and he gave her a smile. It was a sickening sight for you. You slipped the mic back onto the stand, cautiously stepping off the stage, and headed straight for the door. You threw back the last of the liquid in your cup and set it on an empty table as you passed by. As the door slammed behind you, tears prickled your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat. At the sound of the door, Jake’s head turned to the stage, finally noticing your disappearance. Panic struck him, realizing he’d definitely taken it too far. He caught Josh’s eye, but wasn’t met with any type of reassurance. He’d won the battle, but at too much of a price.
He cut the dance short, not caring about any formalities, and followed hot on your trail. When he got outside, you were already on your way down the street, far clear of the parking lot. He muttered a curse under his breath, and took off in a jog after you. “Y/n!” He called, but you didn’t turn back. You kept your pace steady, hoping that you could make it home before he caught up. Your shared home wasn’t too far away from the bar, only a few minutes by foot. You thought if you could make it there before him, you could regain yourself a bit more. When he realized you weren’t going to slow down, he ran a little faster.
He managed to catch up, grabbing a hold of your hand to stop you from going any further. You tried to shake out of his grip, not willing to make any conversation with him, but he refused to let go. “What?” You finally snapped, turning to look at him. “What do you want, Jake?” He recoiled slightly, never once hearing you speak to him in that tone.
“I…” he trailed off, eyes wide and unsure of what to do.
“You what?” You asked again, tears still falling from your eyes. “Came to tell me all about your new dance partner? I can go get my shit out of the house and you can move her right in, in my place, if she’s so fantastic!”
“I don’t even know her fucking name, y/n.” Jake rolled his eyes, only fuelling your fire even more.
“That’s the point!” You yelled back, finally freeing your hand from his. “You don’t even fucking know her, and you get up and dance with her. It’s been five years and I can’t even get you to do that with me! One hand, Jacob. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve danced with me. I got tired of hearing no, so I stopped asking!”
“Jesus Christ, all of this over a fucking dance? You were practically fucking Josh all night, and I haven’t said a word about it.”
“That’s a lie, but we’ll unpack that later.” You scoffed. “It’s not about a dance, Jake. It’s about effort.”
“Effort? Like I dont give you my entire heart every day?” You opened your mouth to respond, but closed it and proceeded to turn around and walk away. You weren’t willing to have a screaming match in the middle of the street, especially while he was still mad. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that while he was upset, he had very little rationality. “So you’re just going to walk away?” He snapped. You turned on your heels, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster.
“Get in the fucking house. We can talk there.” You pointed in the direction you were walking in. His eyes held the same emotion as yours, but he obliged, anyway. When you saw him start walking towards you, you turned and walked, too. The few minutes it took to get to the house were uncomfortably silent. When you reached the front porch, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You flicked off the porch light when Jake made his way into the house, too.
You stormed to the kitchen, discarding your purse on the table and throwing your keys beside it. You did your absolute best to make it up the stairs in a stormy fashion while still wearing your heels. You didn’t have much time to gather a thought, because he was hot on your trail. “So what is it, then? If it’s not ‘just about the dancing’?” He mocked you with air quotes, hiking your temper up even more.
“The small things, Jake. Yeah, we wake up to each other every morning, and I get a kiss goodbye, but the small stuff matters. Like dancing. I love to dance, and the only time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you, I had to practically beg you. You’re with some complete stranger, and that’s what you decide to do to get under my skin? That was really low.”
“So you’re mad that I used it against you while Josh was up there singing my fucking song for you?” He took a step closer, face inches from yours. “You got plenty of dancing in with him tonight, I figured you got it all out of your system.”
“You’re missing the. whole. point.” You annunciated your words carefully. “I was up dancing with Josh because you never would! It hurt me because you won’t do that one simple thing with me, ever, even when you know how happy it makes me! And she got to have it with a snap of her god damn fingers, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. I got to watch you do something with another girl when I have to beg you to give it to me.” You sat on the bed, pulling your foot up onto your knee and messing with the strap on your heel.
“Didn’t seem like you missed me too much, tonight.” You closed your eyes, expelling a long breath to calm yourself down.
“I was only dancing with him because I couldn’t dance with you, Jake. I was only hanging out with him because all you wanted to do was argue with me.” You kept your voice steady, trying not to feed into him. “Do you think I prefer dancing with your brother? Getting asked if I’m his girlfriend, when we’ve been dating for half a decade?” You inquired, still messing with the strap of your heel. He let out a sigh, grabbing your ankle and pulling your foot up to rest on his thigh. He carefully undid the strap of your shoe and slipped it off your foot. He held his hand out, motioning for you to lift your other leg. You gave him a look of confusion in response.
“What? I’m mad at you, it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking love you.” He grumbled. “Give me your other foot!” He ordered, anger still present in his tone. You did as he said, allowing him to free you of your other shoe. When it was off and both of them were discarded in the closet, he resumed the conversation. “Certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He finally replied. “With your… hmmm, what was it?” He asked, placing his fingers on his chin and pretending to ponder the answer. “Oh, yeah! Your confidant, your partner in crime, your soulmate!” He bellowed. “Who can only dream of being your boyfriend!” He let out a mocking sigh, laced with fake dreaminess.
“I don’t understand why tonight, after years of being together, Josh and I’s friendship is bothering you. You think if there was really a problem, you would have said something, oh, I don’t know, years ago?” You stood again, feeling more secure without your shoes on.
“Because you were using him to get under my skin!”
“God, you’re insufferable sometimes!” You shouted, pushing past him to go back downstairs. He was on his game, not letting the sudden movement deter him. He followed you as you walked. “You were doing the exact same thing! And in case you forgot, you were being a dick before we even got to the bar! I gave you ample opportunity to speak up, or go home, or just tell me what was bothering you, but you insisted you were fine and that you wanted to stay. Then she comes around, and all of your issues are suddenly resolved! You’re laughing and joking like you would any other day. All it took was for me to step out of your way for ten minutes.” You grumbled the last part, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and cracking the lid. You took a long drink before recapping it and setting it on the counter, just in case he pissed you off enough for you to throw it at him.
“If anything, it just gave you an excuse to be alone with him.” Jake hissed. “It’s not just about the dancing, or the karaoke, or the even the ‘funny’ passes. He looks at you like he’s waiting for me to fuck up, just so he can swoop in and finally have you all to himself. He practically undresses you with his eyes every time you walk in a room. Or maybe because it always seems like he makes you happier than I can. He dances with you, and sings with you, and buys you all of those gifts that he always just seems to know that you want.” You spun on your heels, facing him with a little bit softer of an expression than any of the previous.
“That’s what you’re worried about? You think he makes me happier than you do?” His eyes darted away from you for a moment, likely to avoid letting you know how he was really feeling. “Jesus Christ, Jake, are you blind?” He didn’t answer, causing a resurgence of annoyance in you.
“If I’m the only thing standing in the way of you being with him, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” He snapped. “He shits on me all day at the studio, then I get to come home and watch him put his hands all over you, my girlfriend, and I’m the bad guy for being upset?” Your vision turned red, infuriated at the thought of him even thinking that. You took a step towards him, your nose practically touching his.
“If you’re so mad at him, why the fuck are you taking it out on me?” You questioned. “I told you, I would have been more than happy at home with you. You know why? Because I fucking love you, you idiot. I could say it a million times, and you wouldn’t care. Because obviously it’s all about Josh, and how I’ve been meticulously planning on using you to get to him for half a decade. Just waiting for the right time to strike, yeah?” You spat. “It doesn’t matter what I say, because no matter what, you’re always right, hmm?” You pushed your finger into his chest, really extenuating your point. “Nobody else in the entire world is allowed to have an opinion, because Jake knows it all! He’s got it all figured out!” He grabbed your wrist, forcing it down to your side and stopping you from prodding at his chest again. You were nose to nose, chests heaving with anger. You weren’t sure if he was going to tell you to get out, or if you were going to leave before he got the chance. You didn’t have a clue as to what was to come next, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to spin you around and push you against the island countertop. He let go of your wrist, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead. He pulled your head back gently, just so your ear was touching his lips.
“Did you like him singing that song for you?” He asked, his voice low and his breath tickling your skin. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at your new found position. When you didn’t answer, his grip on your hair tightened. “Answer me.”
“Yeah.” You hissed, just for arguments sake. In reality, it was nothing compared to when Jake played it for you. Josh singing it had nothing on when Jake sang it, or hummed the lyrics to you. Josh had nothing on Jake, period, but you were too stubborn to stroke his ego.
“Yeah?” Jake questioned, his knuckles white against the hold on your hair. His hips were pressed into your ass, locking you against the counter indefinitely. “You’d rather go home with him?” He seethed. “Have him take your high heels off, wake up to him every morning?” Your heart was drumming against your chest. You weren’t willing to give in to him, but you also weren’t sure where he was going with his point. When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to yank your skirt over your ass. His hand graced your exposed skin, the touch almost too gentle to fit with the current situation. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand and brought it down forcefully, causing you to gasp at the contact. The ring that he adorned on his finger left a sharp sting long after the slap was delivered. “Fucking answer me.”
“N-no,” you stuttered, all of your confidence fleeing you. In place of it, there was a growing arousal between your legs and your tendency to submit to him was showing.
“That changed awfully fast.” He taunted. His hand still rested on your ass, but he’d moved it closer to your hip and held you in a firm grip, instead. You could feel his erection growing against you; the position alone was enough to get him going. “Color.” He barked.
“Green.” You said without hesitation. His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, his fist still anchored in your hair. He took a small step away from you, freeing your underwear from your body and letting them fall to your ankles.
“Since you don’t know how to make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.” He explained. You bit the inside of your lip, not daring to make a peep. “By the time I’m done with you, he won’t even be a thought in that pretty little head of yours.” He dipped his hand between your thighs, spreading them apart slightly. “The only word you’ll be able to say is my fucking name. M’gonna remind you why you come home to me.” His fingers ran through your cunt, getting a feel for the wetness that had already begun to pool. “That sound okay, angel?”
“Yes, sir.” You whispered, already knowing the rules to the game.
“Almost don’t want to let you cum. Haven’t been a very good girl for me, have you?” He hummed, spreading your arousal up to your clit. He swirled his finger around it for a moment, producing a whine from your throat. “So needy already. Pathetic.” He noted, applying a bit more pressure to his area of focus. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure after hours of torture.
“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, knowing it was in your best interest to grovel for a while. “Promise I’ll be good for you from now on.”
“Come on, you expect me to forgive you that easily?” He chuckled. You didn’t respond, only let out a shaky breath when he removed his finger from your clit. “Gonna have to make it up to me, angel. You know that.” You heard him undo his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops on his pants. He set it on the counter cautiously, making you believe its use for the night was not over. He unzipped his zipper and freed himself from his pants in a swift motion. He tugged at your hair, silently telling you he wanted you to turn and face him. You did so, almost breathless at the sight of his face. His hand was still in your hair, pulling your head upwards slightly, making sure you couldn’t look away from him.
You wanted to break character so bad, to kiss him and tell him you were sorry, and that you loved him. You wanted to tell him everything you were too angry to communicate before, but you stayed silent. Instead, you gave an innocent bat of your eyelashes. He leaned down, likely feeling the same way, and pressed his lips to yours. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned needy and sloppy. You reached out for him, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt. You thought you would get in trouble for it, but in that moment, he allowed it. The small act satiated his need to feel wanted. You messed with the buttons on his shirt, trying to free him from it. After a few moments of struggle, you managed to slip it off his shoulders. He let go of you only for long enough to rid himself of it, and returned to his previous hold. He broke from the kiss, realizing he’d been far too accommodating for his liking. He raised his eyebrow, as if he expected you to know what he wanted. After a moment, you caught on, luckily just fast enough.
You sunk down to your knees, now eye level with his exposed cock. He still had his hand in your hair, holding it out of the way for you. You reached up, wrapping your hand around him before lowering your mouth to the tip and slowly bringing him into your mouth. You started slow, working yourself up to speed. He didn’t push you; as dominant as he was during sex, he was always hyper-aware of your comfortability. After a few moments, you started to hear a few curses fall from his lips. It gave you the encouragement to take him further, relaxing your jaw and your throat as you pushed your head down on him.
“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, unable to hold back his words anymore. You hummed against him, continuing your pace. Soon after, he tightened his fist in your hair, holding your head in place. He thrusted forward into your mouth, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips. You tried your best to keep yourself relaxed, making it easier for you to continue on. “Doing so good, sweetheart.” He groaned. The praise sent a shiver down your spine, your excitement for what was to come next was debilitating.
He sped his movements a bit more, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each re-entry. You felt tears from in the corner of your eyes, unsure how long you could keep up with him. But, you were more determined to please him than anything else, because it always meant you’d receive a fantastic reward. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, feeling too good to even look down at your face. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you felt yourself gag, throat constricting against him.
His cock twitched in your mouth, bringing him back to reality for a moment. He pulled back, completely removing himself from you. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this.” He theorized, trying to attain his earlier tone of voice but failing. His chest was heaving with every breath, eyes glazed with lust. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and he didn’t have the willpower to walk away from you, now. “You wouldn’t like that, would you?” He asked, his hand falling from your hair to your face, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.
“No, sir.” You answered, finally regaining yourself a bit.
“I know, baby.” He sighed, realizing he could likely get off just by watching you looking at him that way. “Couldn’t do that to you. You know that.” You nodded, grateful he drew that conclusion. “Stand up for me.” You did as he said, raising slowly and ensuring you had your balance, not wanting to topple over. He brought you into a kiss, hands pulling at your shirt. If he knew you didn’t care, he would have ripped it off of you. He managed to free it from your upper half, pulling out of the kiss to bring it over your head. “No bra?” He inquired, fingers trailing over your now exposed torso. He brought his thumb to your hardened nipple, running the pad over it before pinching it between his fingers. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his actions. “Such a little whore.” He quickly took his hand and swiped away any items littering the island. Your eyes widened at the action, watching as papers and books tumbled to the floor. He didn’t react, only placed his palms just below your ass, lifting you up onto the counter.
The cold countertop took you as a shock, causing you to tense for a moment. “Only for you.” You finally replied, watching him as he anchored your skirt above your hips.
“Didn’t seem that way tonight.” He muttered, forcefully shoving your legs apart. He took a step back for a minute, admiring the obscene display he’d left you in. You rolled your eyes.
“Jake-“ he cut you off with his eyes, his glare louder than any words he could speak.
“Kind of humiliating, isn’t it? When everybody at the bar thinks Josh gets to take you home, thinks he gets to see you like this?” He asked, not advancing any closer to you. You didn’t answer, just watched him. “How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you run around like a whore with my brother, begging him for attention?” Your face flushed at his words, embarrassed at the degradation.
“M’sorry, Jake.” You mumbled, not daring to move, in hopes of keeping him in good spirits.
“Are you? Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” He pried.
“I mean it.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He barely acknowledged your words before speaking again.
“Because you’re mine. You do know that, right?” You gave him a nod. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, ever. Nobody else gets to see how pretty you look when you’re desperate to be fucked.” He gave a small smirk, grabbing one of the chairs and pulling it over to him. He positioned it directly in front of you, taking a seat on it. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, having an idea about what he was planning. He leaned against the back of it, never letting his eyes leave you. “You know that, right?” He pressed.
“Yes, sir.” You affirmed.
“Show me, then.”
“W-what?” You stuttered, wanting clarification.
“Touch yourself. M’gonna watch. You’re going to show me all of the parts of you only I get to see.” He ordered. You didn’t move right away, wondering if he was serious. “Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was condescending and his gaze was burning into you.
“N-no, sir.” You shook your head.
“Good.” He raised his palm to his face, spitting on it. He lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he waited for you to start. “I don’t have all day, angel.” He stated, almost sounding bored. You broke out of your shock, bracing one hand behind you to hold yourself up and lowering your other hand to your heat. You gathered your arousal, slowly running your fingers through your cunt, really giving him a show. You saw his jaw clench as he drew in a long breath, silently telling you he approved of your actions. “If you’re gonna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He explained, eyes laser focused on your fingers. “You love the attention so much, so I’ll give it to you. But you’ve gotta work for it, and you better not cum unless I say you can.”
“Yes, sir.” You let your fingers trail up to your clit, rubbing small circles. Your breath hitched in your throat, pleasure stemming from the sensation, but also from the sight of him touching himself. You had no idea how he could ever doubt your love for him, because you were hopelessly and utterly infatuated with him. Every movement, or word, or expression always made your heart flutter. He was perfect, and nobody in the world could ever compare to him. You applied a bit more pressure, letting your head fall back at the feeling. A quiet moan escaped your lips, hitting him with force. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from getting up and fucking you right then and there.
You lifted your hand that was supporting you and leaned back on your elbow, instead, giving him a better view. You brought your hand to your breast, the pad of your thumb drifting over your nipple while you touched yourself at the same time. You really wanted to give him a show, part of it being because it was a show of an apology, and the other part being quite selfish. You knew that the faster you gave him what he wanted, the more likely he was to get you off. Your eyes drifted back to him, settling on his face and soaking up every bit of his expression. He had a scowl, and his jaw was hard set. His eyes were almost feral looking, and he was watching you intently. His hand was wrapped around himself, slowly but steadily moving. It was just enough to get a bit of relief. You could tell he wanted to save his stamina for when he finally decided to fuck you.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He ordered.
“You, Jake.” You sighed, another groan escaping your mouth. His breath caught in his throat at the sound of you saying his name like that.
“Mhm,” he made a noise of confirmation “You better be.”
“I am,” you promised, catching his gaze. “Only you.” Your steady pace mixed with you being incredibly turned on was causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach. He knew you well enough to pick up on it by your expression alone.
“Don’t.” He warned. You gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d have a bit of mercy on you. In response, he only shook his head. You let out a whine, slowing your movements to hold on a little longer. You felt the pressure ease, relief crossing your face. “So you can listen,” he noted. “Good job, baby.” The praise was heavenly, washing over you with a warm embrace. You knew he couldn’t keep up with the current situation for much longer; he was eager to get his hands on you again. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know that. You took a break from your clit, slipping your hand down a bit further.
You slipped your middle and ring finger inside you, making sure to keep your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction. You gave him an innocent smile, setting him on fire. You slowly pumped the digit into yourself, clamping down on your bottom lip with your teeth and letting out a sigh of pleasure. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him for very long, equating it to torture in your mind. You only had to work at yourself for a moment, riling him up faster by the second. “God, I wish it was you touching me, instead, Jake.” You whined, eyelids fluttering closed for a second.
It was almost like you flipped a switch; suddenly, the sultry looks and lust-filled noises drove him over the edge. He stood, almost knocking the chair over as he did so, and advanced towards you. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up to meet his lips. There was no gentle nature to be found, just volatile desire that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Once he’d fulfilled his need to kiss you, both of his hands grabbed you by the hips and roughly brought you to the edge of the island. He grabbed your wrist, abruptly moving your hand to your side. He replaced it with his own, fingers gathering your arousal and pushing inside you. He let his thumb slide up to your bundle of nerves, brushing it over the sensitive area every time he pumped his fingers into you. You were over the moon at the new found contact, although abrupt. You were trying to wrap your head around the rapid change while welcoming it at the same time.
“F-fuck, Jake.” You moaned, letting the weight of your head fall back into his hand.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” He whispered, trying to cover his own tone of neediness. He didn’t need a verbal answer to his question; your expression was more than enough. As much as he was dominant, he was also a giver. Knowing he was making you feel good was more than enough to satisfy him. Watching you was great, but it was nothing compared to him being the reason behind your pleasure. His fingers curled upwards ever so slightly, hitting that spot inside you he knew all too well. “How fast can you cum for me, angel?”
“I-i don’t..” you trailed off, only focused on the feeling of his hands working magic on you.
“You don’t what?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. “Make it quick, before I change my mind.” He leaned down, making you lean back, too. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth over it. You hated to admit that he already had you teetering on the edge. After years of practice, he knew you well enough to know exactly what to do. An expert of sorts, if you had to label it. You reached a hand out, grabbing on to his bicep for support while your other one was anchored on the countertop. You had already pushed yourself to the edge once, and it wasn’t hard for him to get you back there.
“Jake, m’gonna cum.” You announced. His pace didn’t change, only encouraging you further. It was embarrassing at how fast he could bring you to an orgasm.
“That’s it, baby. Come on.” His voice was low, only audible due to how close he was to you. He said it like he needed it, too. It only took the small push from him to send you into your first orgasm. Your legs were shaking, your arm barely holding you up. You barely managed his name through the mess of vulgar noises that came from your mouth. Instead of coaxing you through your orgasm, his movements never tapered. By the time you were coming down from the high, the overstimulation had already started to take over.
“Jake!” You gasped, unable to free yourself from his grip.
“You’re fine.” He said, a hint of venom still in his tone. Your eyes were screwed shut, the unpleasant feeling starting to drive you insane. He noticed the look of discomfort on your face, questioning himself for a moment. “Color.” He whispered, the act completely out the window. His thumb was still working over your clit, just with less pressure.
“Green.” You hissed, knowing deep down that you could handle it. You knew the reward after was worth the moment of discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he believed you, so he gave you another chance to speak up. “Green.” You said again, noticing he was holding back a bit. At the assurance, he continued working at you. The feeling was intense, but you coached yourself through it, and eventually, the knot in your belly tightened once more, although not fully covering the uncomfortable sensation the movements were producing. When your next orgasm tore through you, it was powerful enough to make you lose the strength in your arms. If not for Jake holding you up, you would have fallen backwards. When you relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his hand from you. Your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on you, and your face was flushed. He took in the sight, letting the picture burn a memory in his brain.
He only let you recover for a moment before ridding himself of his pants completely and sinking to his knees. You let out a groan, barely back to earth from his previous actions. His eyes looked up to you, wordlessly checking to see if you were ready to keep going. He didn’t speak again, but placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. Just when you relaxed into him, thinking maybe he’d gotten his fill of being an asshole, he let his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling, not expecting it. He continued on, barely aware of your reaction, and sucked a few marks into you. By the time he’d worked himself up to your cunt, you had surpassed your overstimulation, and quickly became eager for him to continue on.
“You want it, don’t you?” He teased, mouth only inches away from your heat.
“Yeah,” you breathed.
“How bad?” His eyes flickered up to your face again. Your lips turned downward, almost into a frown.
“You want me to beg for you?” You questioned, not realizing how challenging your tone sounded. His eyes turned stony, eyebrows furrowing slightly.
“Thought you said you wanted me, angel?” He pulled back slightly. You felt your stomach sink, hoping you hadn’t made too much of a mistake.
“I do, Jake. I’m sorry.” You rushed out.
“Then fucking tell me how bad you want it.” His scowl had returned, his order clearly stating that he wasn’t in the mood for any argument. You realized it was less about dominance, and more about him needing to hear the words, needing to feel needed. You reached down, placing your hand on his cheek and letting your thumb run over the soft skin.
“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You whispered. Involuntarily, he leaned into the touch. You could feel his rigidness soften, almost immediately calmed by the feeling of your hand on him. “Please.” You gave him a look of desire, softening your features. “I want it so bad, I’ll do anything. Only you can make me feel this good.” That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t make you work any harder for it; before you were even finished your sentence, his mouth was on you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him while his tongue ran through you. You let out a sigh of pleasure when he focused on your clit. His fingers sunk into your skin, holding you as if he was scared you were going to get away, sure to leave marks in the morning. He was working at you as if he starved, cautious as to not miss out on a second of the experience.
You were unable to contain any of your moans, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear from you. You’re tugged at the roots of his hair, another way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. He pulled back from you for a moment, moving his thumb in place of his tongue. “Does that feel good, baby?”
“So good, Jake.” You struggled to get the words out, too caught up in the moment.
“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all of those pretty noises.” He ordered. He didn’t let you respond, already having his tongue take over again. He slipped his index and middle finger back inside you, adding the extra bit of stimulation for you. He was determined to fulfil his earlier promise; he wanted you so fucked out that he was the only thing you could think of. Little to his knowledge, he didn’t have to do much for that to be true. He was always at the front of your mind, wiggling his way into every thought and action. This part was just a bonus for you.
In retaliation to his statement, you decided to up your game a bit; if he wanted to hear noises, you were more than willing to give it to him. The moans and curses you let out were pornographic, sure to be heard by the neighbours if they listened hard enough.
You could tell he was enjoying himself, too, humming against you and taking in sharp breaths when a sound he particularly liked was heard.
His fingers curled upwards in just the right way, causing you to give an involuntary tug on his his hair. He only used it at motivation, ensuring to repeat the same action with each movement. His skills at guitar had paid off fantastically for you in the bedroom. “Fuck,” you groaned, feeling the familiar pressure build once more. “God, please don’t stop, Jake. Feels so good.” You whined, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. He took the praise to heart, making sure to keep his movements steady. He was focusing on keeping his hand and tongue at the same speed, wanting to allow you to get the most of the pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, gripping at his hair and uttering curses. He only eased up when you started to come down, taking the opportunity to get a good look at you. Your eyeliner was beginning to run, and your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was messy and your eyelids were heavy as you looked down to meet his gaze. He had to admire your beauty even in the disarray. He thought you were the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth.
He removed his fingers, standing in an instant. He took hold of your hips again, pulling you as close to the edge of the table as he could. Your head was still spinning as he used his hand to line himself up with your entrance. He had no more willpower to wait any longer. You both let out a sigh of relief when he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling intensified by the lingering sensitivity of your last orgasm. The position was a bit awkward, making it hard for him to move, but it didn’t bother either of you very much. The intimacy was what you craved, and it was giving you just that. He brought one of his hands to your face, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, pulling the digit into your mouth and lightly suctioning your cheeks around it. He let out a long exhale through his nose, the tail end of it sounding more like a growl produced from his chest. He slowly moved his hips, rocking into you agonizingly slow. You opted to just enjoy it while it lasted, knowing the gentle nature would be out the window soon.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a small pop sounding as he did so. His hand drifted towards your neck, fingers ghosting over your skin. His thrusts didn’t speed, but did get more forceful. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, sending a jolt of pleasurable pain through you. “Just like that, baby?” He asked, eyes boring into you. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck, leaving you to believe his concerned inquiry was a bit misleading. “Does that feel good?” You hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him even closer. It gave him the answer he was looking for, although nonverbal. “Such a dirty little whore.” He hummed, clearly pleased by your action. “Is this all you wanted? To get fucked?” His eyes scanned your face, the flame still dancing in his pupils. “Didn’t matter whose bed you were in, as long as there was a cock inside you?” His fingers tightened again, finally enough pressure to restrict the blood flow. “Or did want to go home with him?”
He knew you were unable to answer; he was talking to himself, and taunting you in the process. He knew the minute he took his hand away from your neck, you’d be talking back, and he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea. He leaned in, lips hovering over your ear as he fucked into you. He knew he’d have to release his hold on you soon; he may have been willing to degrade you, a few slaps or spankings, but never seriously harm you. He didn’t want you to fear he would, either. “You think he’d fuck you like this? Make you feel this good?” He whispered, breath hot and tone gravelly. He clamped down on your neck tighter once more, completely restricting any blood or airflow. He felt you let out a pointless, choked gasp, not getting anything from it. He bit down on your earlobe, one final move before he loosened his hand. You let in a long, desperate breath, filling your lungs as much as you could. You coughed, sputtering for a moment at the sudden burst of oxygen. He let his fingers gently massage the area he’d just assaulted, wanting you to know without breaking character that he was, in fact, just acting. His head was still down by your ear, scared if he looked up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming.
You were agitated from his words, feeling the bratty part of you start to surface once more. If he was so willing to talk down on you, you weren’t afraid to give it back. You hadn’t fully thought out the whole thing, only depending on your bruised feelings for clarity. “Don’t be so cocky. You call this fucking?” You challenged, voice was still raspy from his hand around your throat. He stiffened, pulling back from you as if you’d burned him.
“What did you say?” His hips stopped, too. His expression was feral, and his body tense.
“What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” A smirk was playing on your lips. “If you’re not going to do it right, I can go call-“ your sentence was cut short by his palm retracting from your throat and colliding with your cheek, throwing your head to the side. It caught you completely off guard; your train of thought disappearing and his body language now anything but loving. Admittedly, he’d hit you a bit harder than intended, but he was in no state of mind to cater to you. Without so much as an utter of concern, he pulled out of you roughly grabbed your hips, yanking you off the table and onto your feet.
You didn’t have time to process the change before he spun you around. His hand found your hair and he forced your upper half down onto the countertop. He wasn’t gentle with his touch, shoving your face into the table until your cheek was squished against the wood. He took in the sight, your skirt still pushed up to your bellybutton. In a rash decision reliant on emotion, he grabbed a fistful of the bunched up fabric and gave a hard pull, busting it at the seams and ripping it from your body. He could buy you another to make up for it, he decided. Now less concerned about the sex, and more worried about your favourite skirt, you opened your mouth to protest. “Jake-“
“Shut the fuck up.” Your time for talking was over; you’d pushed him just a bit too far. He let the now torn clothing fall to the floor, grabbing his belt from beside you. He maneuvered it so it was folded in half, all whilst still holding you to the table. “You think he could do a better job?” He seethed, running the cold leather across your bare ass. When you didn’t respond, he lifted the belt and brought it down with force, causing a sharp sound and a lasting sting. “Do you really think anybody could?” His hand in your hair tightened, driving your cheek even harder into the table. He had no care for your comfortability, now. “I should just leave you here, make you get yourself off, instead, since I’m not doing it right. Would you like that?”
“N-no,” you squeaked, mentally preparing for another blow. Just as you expected, another searing sensation spread across your backside, causing you to jump.
“If you want him so bad, then go. But don’t think for a second he can give you half of what I can.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “Do you understand me?” You weren’t sure if he wanted you to answer, or if it was rhetorical. When the belt flashed across your skin the third time, it was made clear he wanted a verbal confirmation. “I said, do you understand me?”
“Y-yes, sir.” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks, teeth grinding at the pain from the leather. But, you had pushed him, and you were more than aware of the consequences when you misbehaved.
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” His tone dropped, less authority and more finality. You heard the belt fall to the floor, followed immediately by him lining himself up with you. There was no adjustment period before he pushed himself into you again, taking no mercy with the power behind his hips. You let out a yelp when he slammed into your cervix, but he was in no hurry to ask if you were okay. You had no time to recover before he repeated the same action.
His hips were moving at a brutal pace, all of the anger from the night being let out at once and building up to a dramatic climax. He was still holding your hair, never easing up on the weight of his hand holding you down. His other hand was holding your hip, keeping you in place while he fucked you. There was no ability to keep yourself quiet; the sounds falling from your lips were obscene, pleasure bordering pain creating a whole new feeling. He pulled your hips back a bit, giving more space between your legs and the edge of the table. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers finding your clit with expert precision.
“How’s this? Good enough for you?” He growled. You couldn’t find the words to respond, eyes squeezed shut as all of the stimulation acted together to bring you to the brink of insanity. His finger danced over your already sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing another orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. He was almost smiling at the noises you were making, arrogant enough to know how good he was making you feel.
“F-fuck, Jake,” you managed out, some form of confirmation that you heard his words.
“What’s wrong?” He tormented, voice wavering slightly at his rapid movements. “You asked for it, now you can’t handle it?” He showed no signs of slowing down or easing up; he was determined to prove a point, now, and he wasn’t backing down. He heard a familiar moan fall from your lips, your walls tightening against him slightly as you did so. He knew you were close, and it was only encouraging him further. Within a few seconds, you were caught up in another orgasm, all of your muscles tense and your throat coarse from crying out his name. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax as you came down, his hips nor his fingers letting up.
“Jake, please, I can’t.” You pleaded.
“You can, and you will.” He dismissed you, fully aware of the state you were in. He could see the tears staining your skin, your mascara fully running down your face. Your cheeks were red, burning with heat, and sweat glistening on your forehead. “Color.”
“Green, fuck!” You expelled, frustrated with your own unwillingness to give in. Every nerve in your body was on fire, begging you to stop, or take a break, but you were still enjoying yourself. You knew he was, too, and that was most of your motivation. He continued as if there was no question asked in the first place, never easing up on your clit, either. You were on the brink of screams, desperately trying to contain the moans ripping from your chest.
“You gonna give me another one, angel?” He asked, venom still present in his tone. You knew he wasn’t being so generous with orgasms for your sake, it was solely a personal agenda for him to prove a point. You were completely unwilling to cum for him again, but his fingers were forcing your body to betray you. He knew it, too, only allowing the cockiness to grow. “You ready to admit it, now? You want to tell me the truth?” He hissed, eyes never leaving your face. Before you could reply, the pressure in your belly peaked once more. He’d successfully forced another orgasm from you, letting the pride settle in his bones. Before you fully came down, he was already lifting your upper body off of the table so you were standing. He was aware of your lack of strength, assuring he was holding you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall over.
He pulled out of you, still supporting you with his arm, and turned you around. You were exhausted, completely at his disposal. You weren’t the least but worried, knowing he would take care of you; if you said the word, he’d stop immediately. “Arms around me.” He told you, a little gentler than his earlier orders. You obeyed, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your ass, lifting you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around him, almost as if it were muscle memory. He carried you over to the wall, pressing your back into it. As much as he enjoyed the accessibility of the last position, the simplicity of doing whatever he pleased to you, he wanted to see your face. He kept one hand firm on your ass, holding you up, and guided himself back inside you with his other. The position change had given you a minute to calm down, just as he was hoping it would. He rested there for a moment, not making any further advances.
“Look at me.” He snapped. You lifted your eyes, barely keeping them open, and met his gaze. His expression was hard, but no longer malicious. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with you; the sight of your face so close to his was enough to immediately soften his heart. “I want to hear you say it, angel.” He whispered, stare burning into you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”
“You are, Jake.” You breathed, unable to lie about it and risk any more punishment. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody could replace you.” Your voice was quiet, all of your energy completely drained. But, you were speaking from the heart, and he could tell. He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. Slowly, he started rocking his hips into you again. The feeling was so much different, now. His movements careful, filled with love. He’d proved his point beyond intention, and he was well aware of it. All of the anger was gone, and he just wanted to be close to you, now.
“You’re mine, baby. You know that.” He hummed. “Nobody else even gets to think about you, like this.”
“M’yours, Jake. All yours.” You promised, hoping he’d lean forward just enough so you could kiss him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Your fight was gone, now, not as if there was a lot there in the first place. Your back talk seemed to hurt him a little more than intended, and all you wanted was to make up for it.
“I know, honey.” He assured you. “Me, too.” His sincerity was staggering, the softness of those two words were the most profound vulnerability he’d ever shown during sex. You felt like you were seeing right through him. “Gonna take care of you, now. Okay?” You managed a nod, filled with relief when he leaned forward to connect his mouth with yours. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to you. You didn’t want him to pull back, savouring the loving gesture as if your life depended on it. The sensation of him fucking into you so carefully while he was kissing you was more euphoric than anything else you’d felt that night. Not often did you get slow sex with Jake, and it was just as phenomenal, if not more. Something about the emotion, the complete transparency, was unmatched.
“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his fingers to tighten on you. He pulled back slightly, just enough space between your mouths to speak.
“Fuck, y/n, say it again.” He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.
“I love you, Jake. So much.” You groaned, losing yourself to the feeling of him inside you. You were sure there was nothing that could feel better than that.
“I love you, y/n.” He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he rode through the blissful proclamation. You could tell he was close, and you were eager for him to get there. “God, you feel so good.” You let your hand come up to his cheek, holding his face while your thumb drifted over the soft skin. “Can you cum for me one more time?” You nodded as best you could with his forehead against yours.
“Just kiss me, please.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, his lips were on yours again in an instant. You kissed him with a hunger that could only be satisfied by him. He picked up his pace a bit, silently begging you to cum, just so he could, too. He had been holding himself back for long enough that it had started to become painful. He pulled you down on him every time he thrusted, just for a little more impact. That was enough for you; with the added pressure, he reached the spot inside you that only he could. Your legs tightened around him and your fingers grasped at him, letting him know you were there again. He pulled back, wanting the full view this time. Your head fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure. You breathed his name between moans, finding it impossible to think of anything but him as your final orgasm washed over you.
At the sound of his name spoken so beautifully, and the sight of your blissful expression, he couldn’t help but lose himself to the feeling, too. He pulled you down on him one last time, holding you there as he spilled his release into you. He slumped over, pressing you further into the wall and letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. He was breathless, completely overpowered by euphoria. He didn’t withdraw right away, wanting to savour the moment of intimacy with you. Nothing but heavy breathing sounded through the kitchen, both of you chest to chest and feeling your heartbeats against each other. He turned his head inwards towards your neck, placing a few kisses into it. He left a few light marks, just as a final reminder of the entire night.
“You okay?” He asked, still resting his head on your shoulder.
“Yeah,” you sighed. “Are you?”
“Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.” He finally pulled back from you, placing a kiss to your forehead.
“Bath?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile. He carried you to the bathroom carefully, not pulling out of you yet in avoidance of a mess. Once you were in the bathroom, he withdrew and let you get cleaned up. He flicked on the faucet for the bathtub, letting the warm water run before closing the drain stopper. He grabbed your package of makeup wipes pulling a few out and setting it back on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispered. You turned towards him, leaning into his hand reaching for you. He gently wiped at the smudged makeup, cleaning you up as best he could. He discarded the dirty wipes in the trash and placed a kiss on your lips.
By the time he finished, the bathtub was full and more than ready for the both of you. He flipped off the faucet, helping you in first. As you settled in, he couldn’t help but notice the marks littering your thighs and ass. He felt a sinking feeling of regret, checking your face for where he’d slapped you. It was red, slightly irritated, but seemed as though it would fade away soon. There was a small welt on your cheek from where his ring sat on his finger. He got in, too, settling behind you and pulling you into him. The warm water soothed your aching muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his hold. With your back pressed against him, you were fully surrounded in comfort. You rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. After a moment, he lifted his hand to your cheek, fingers gently running over the inflamed area.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He said, lips turned down into a frown. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”
“I’m okay.” You promised, turning your head and placing a kiss to his thumb. “Let’s just… never do that again. The sex was great, but I don’t like fighting with you. I also really didn’t like whatever we were doing at the bar… it was gross and childish.”
“I agree. No girl in the world deserve the time of day, especially when I have you to come home to. I started the whole thing. I know you and Josh would never do that to me. You guys really weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I was just in a shitty mood.”
“Yeah, but I knew you were upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was being an asshole, and I really shouldn’t have let him sing that song. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw it come up on the screen.”
“You didn’t pick it?” He asked, fingers still caressing the spot on your face where he’d slapped you.
“No, of course not, Jake. I was mad at you, but I’d never go that far.” His stomach sank.
“I’m sorry I danced with her. I knew it would hurt you, and it was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you would do that, either.”
“That did hurt me, a lot.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie about it. “You’ve never really been jealous before. Where the hell did that come from?”
“I don’t know.” He was honest. “I was mad at Josh all day, and when I saw you guys being so nice to each other and dancing to those songs, especially while I was so upset…I guess it just felt like he made you shine a little brighter than I did, tonight. I feel like I dim your light, sometimes.” He mumbled the last part, almost afraid to admit it out loud. You felt your heart break at his words.
“Jake, Josh is my best friend. My brother. Of course I have fun with him, but that’s all it is. Yeah, I love him, but I’ve never once felt that kind of love for him. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to make me shine all of the time, because you complete me. You can’t always make me shine brighter, especially when you’re the one who ignited the flame in the first place.” He had one arm snaked under yours, lazily strewn across your torso just under your chest. He used that arm to pull you closer to him, still letting his fingers dance over your cheek.
“I love you.” He sighed. “I never want to do that again, either. It was so stupid. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough to make up for it.”
“I’m sorry, too. If me being so close with Josh makes you feel that way, I can take a step back. You’re the most important person to me, no matter what.”
“No, baby. Never bothered me before, I guess I just felt a bit forgotten about. Got in my own head, and instead of talking to you about it, I tried to make you feel the same way. Next time, I promise I’ll talk to you. You’re my most important person, too. Seeing that look on your face when you left the bar made me realize how easy I could lose you, and I never want that to happen.”
“Guess we learned our lesson, then, ‘cause I really don’t want to lose you, either.” You laced your fingers through his, running your thumb over the back of his hand.
“The sex was fantastic, though.” He chuckled after a moment of silence. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I got a little to caught up in the moment.”
“I’m okay,” you laughed. “Maybe a bit sore, but it was my own fault. Shouldn’t have talked back like that.”
“You were being bratty, weren’t you?” He pondered back to the earlier scene in the kitchen.
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. Just wanted to get under your skin.” You giggled, sinking a bit lower into the water.
“I know, beautiful. You did a good job at it, I’ll give you that.”
“Yeah, my ass knows it, too.” You grumbled. He laughed, leaning down and peppering a few kisses over your shoulders. You melted into the touch, happy to have things back to normal.
“Hey, y/n?” He asked, lips still drifting over your skin.
“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed in peacefulness.
“I don’t want you to stop dancing with Josh. But I do think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, too, if that’s okay.” He whispered. A smile broke onto your lips at his words.
“That’s more than okay, Jake.” He dropped his other arm, wrapping it around you, too. He pulled you into a hug, love completely surrounding you, now. “I love you.”
“I love you, angel. God, I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to have you like this.” He sighed. “I was stupid for not wanting to, before. I can sacrifice a little embarrassment to get a smile on that pretty face of yours.” You couldn’t help but laugh again.
“Don’t have to do that to make me smile, baby. You know that. You can have me like this for the rest of your life even if you don’t dance with me.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it. I’d do anything to make you happy.” You almost rolled your eyes at the statement. He said it as if he didn’t do that already.
“You already give me the world, Jacob. What more could you do to make me happy?”
“I’ll stop when I can give you the universe, instead of just the world.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll buy you a new skirt and take you out tomorrow night, make up for everything. Wear your best shoes, cause you won’t be able to get away from the dance floor.” A smile grew on your lips, too.
“Can’t wait.” And you meant it. Not just for the dancing, or a night out, or the promise of a replacement skirt for the one he’d destroyed. You couldn’t wait simply because you were excited to be with him. You were certain you could live the rest of your life deprived of all modern comfort, but if Jake was by your side, you’d be the happiest person to have ever lived.
#greta van fleet#danny gvf#sam gvf#danny wagner#jake gvf#jake kiszka#josh gvf#gvf#sam kiszka#gvf fic#greta van fleet angst#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet imagine#greta van fleet fanfic#greta van fleet fluff#greta van fleet smut#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka smut#jtk#jaket kiszka#josh Kiszka#gvf fanfiction#gvf smut#gvf x reader#gvf angst#gvf imagine#writing#fic#builtbybrokenbells
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"Two Women Collect Nails, Wire Give 120 Pounds for Salvage," Toronto Star. March 19, 1943.
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Since last summer Mrs. C. J. Didemus and Mrs. Edith Parks, 82, have gathered 120 pounds of nails, spikes and pieces of wire - mostly in alleys and ash piles - and have turned it all over to the Niagara Falls salvage organization. The enterprise started when Mrs. Didemus picked up a spike in the alley behind her husband's store. Here Mrs. Didemus and Mrs. Parks weigh some of their salvage.
#niagara falls#salvage campaign#salvage conscious#scrap iron#scrap metal#elderly in canadian history#home front#canada during world war 2
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I saw ur RID headcannons for fixit and I loved it!!! Do you have any saw/nsfw thoughts on RID bumblebee? He’s personally one of my favorite bumblebee iterations as he radiates tired dad vibes. With his dorky yet serious personality he doesn’t get enough love in my opinion! I wanna peg the man so hard till he forgets his worries 💅✨
YESSSSSSSSS I love RID 2015 Bumblebee. I know he's not the most popular version of Bee but the dorky dad vibes really work for me with this iteration. And you just know he's way too stressed and could use a good frag to unwind for once.
Like every other iteration of Bee, this Bumblebee is pretty protective of you. He definitely veers more on the side of 'protective' than 'possessive' compared to some other iterations, and he's a LOT better at tamping down that jealousy, but it still rubs him the wrong way when someone is taking up a bit too much of your attention. At the same time though, he's really self-conscious about his image as a leader, so it's SUPER hard for him to ask for what he wants when he's feeling needy.
There's a lot of things he'd like to try that he keeps quiet about because of those self-image issues, and one of those things is roleplay. Officer/criminal, injured bot/mechanic, and especially cowboys. He'd be really interested in trying out all those dynamics in the bedroom if he could just get out of his own head for a while.
He's one of the harder Bees to get to agree to receiving, but BOY does he love it. He's so loud when he's the one getting fragged and, again, he's pretty self-conscious about it afterwards. In the moment, though? He's completely gone, panting and groaning and begging for an overload.
Prefers when he has the space and the privacy to take his time with you. There's nothing wrong with a quick romp in the woods or getting handsy at the far end of the salvage yard, but it's nothing compared to having all the time in the world to feel you, taste you, bask in your presence. He's able to unwind around you in a way he doesn't always feel like he can around his team, so he really wants to savor the moments when he gets them.
#transformers#transformers x reader#x reader#bumblebee#bumblebee x reader#tf bumblebee#rid 2015 bumblebee#transformers rid 2015#valveplug#pink chat#anon#maccadam#nsft
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What are you planning for the years ahead when some things may change the way you live inside your head. Are you making plans in case the first plan goes awry? If not I do suggest that you consider tiny, Why? So as to manifest such houses as will last your whole life long.
brad w. Kittel
#brad kittel#pure salvage living#tiny texas houses#conscious#nontoxic#aging youthfully#youthing#salvage Tx#Barterthon Tiny houses
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Earthspark Frenzy, Ravage, and Laserbeak start to notice that Soundwave (Aka their dad) becoming a bit more…’friendly’ with their human ally (*wink wink*). One morning, after Soundwave and the human had gone away on an ‘mission’ and and just returned to their little base in the early hours of the morning when they though the cassettes would still be in recharge, but they thought wrong. Frenzy decides to be a little shit and asks, “So~ does that mean we can except a little brother or sister sometime soon?”
I wheezed out loud at this one and then started thinking about it and now I want to write this and a whole host of other Earthspark fics invoicing human/bot babies. Thank you very much for this anon, I've been waiting for a reason Hehehehehehe...
(Headcanon Note; I fully imagine bots can knock up humans with lil bot babies that grow into full size Cybertronians. Partly because I like the idea of the Allspark creating a species that can reproduce universally as some kind of all-life-is-connected thing, and also because I just prefer alien to human babies.)
Apologies for the tangent, now on with the story! I hope you enjoy, and if you like my writing style you can always commission me!
"Wassup?"
Hearing Frenzy's voice surprised you out of your light doze, and you snapped your head up to find the three Minis up and awake in the tiny "kitchen" you'd all set up in the main area of the bunker. Soundwave acknowledged his Cassetes with a nod, just as tired as you were after the mission that had dragged into the early morning hours. Seated atop his shoulders, you did the same, waving and trying not to yawn as you rubbed the sleep from your tired eyes.
"Morning, everyone..." you greeted as warmly as you could, grumbling stomach reminding you why you hadn't asked to head straight for the bedroom to pass out. Soundwave raised a cupped servo for you to crawl into, his sharp claws curling protectively about your tiny form as he dropped to one knee and set you down. You were too tired to care how your hand lingered on his after grabbing on for support, and found yourself smiling up at him in a bit of a daze.
"I will initiate recharge. Join me after your rations." he said simply, utilizing a much broader vocabulary for you as he often did. Frenzy made a sound like a cough, and in the corner of your eye you saw her quickly put down a cup of energon to clear her vents. Soundwave left at that, and you set about pouring yourself a bowl of cereal for some much needed breakfast before bed. Just thinking of curling up in your little spot in the crook of his arm had you struggling to keep your eyes open...
"Back so late you're early, huh Y/N?" Frenzy asked after you'd fetched what you needed, briefly confusing your tired brain before you put her words together. Sitting down at the little salvaged table, you sat opposite the three and tried to stir up enough neurons to be conversational.
"You could say that. The mission took a bit longer than we planned, but we got what we needed." you explained, trying to stay conscious long enough to pour milk over your cereal.
"We weren't too worried. The two of ya have been spending a lot of quality time together of late, we were sure you were using the night well." Laserbeak added, bobbing his helm in confirmation. There seemed to be the faintest hint of a grin on his beak, but you didn't look too deeply into the expression, even as Frenzy snorted at his words. It was quite normal for them to be amused by their own antics, so you were hardly suspicious, and didn't even notice Ravage observing you in silence.
"Guess you can't wait to get back the berth." Frenzy continued, smirking over her glass as you shoveled cereal into your mouth. Not reading into any of their questions, you nodded, thinking of how Soundwave would probably be recharging by the time you joined him. It would feel incredible to just sink in with your blankets and pillows and sleep next to his warm frame. "You two must love sharing that thing."
"Yeah, no point in wasting space." you agreed as you got to the milk at the bottom, thinking purely in literal terms thanks to sleep deprivation. A single glance would have allowed you to see that Frenzy was biting her lip to keep her giggles in check while Laserbeak did much the same, all while Ravage tried to pretend he wasn't affiliated with either of them, but you merely continued talking without a thought. "It's at such a premium down here, we're practically on top of each other half the time."
This time you recognized the sound Frenzy made as a barely restrained chuckle, but when you looked up for clarification, it was Laserbeak that spoke.
"For you and Soundwave, it's way more than half." he said with a snicker. Though their double meaning was so obvious you should have caught on straight away, all you had the capacity to do was tilt your head over your cereal, the wheels of your brain doing their best to try and figure out why these bots were acting so strange.
"What?" you pressed, your direct question coming just as Ravage swatted his tail at the avian bot.
"Nothing." Laserbeak replied with mock innocence after ignoring the hit, grin never once leaving his beak.
"He's just goofing around." Frenzy said to calm your concerns, waving off the other mini in a good natured tease. Figuring they were all just involved in a game, you shrugged and brought the bowl to your lips to finish, getting about halfway through the sweetened milk before the cassette broke the silence.
"But for real, when can we expect a little brother or sister?"
You half choked on the milk and sprayed the rest over the table, eyes bulging as you finally understood everything that had been implied up to that point.
#transformers#maccadam#earthspark#transformers earthspark#transformers: earthspark#tf earthspark#tfe#tfes#soundwave x reader#transformers x reader#x reader#human reader#self insert#bot babies#sparklings#cassettes#frenzy#laserbeak#ravage#tf imagines#tf
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Hearts Aflame
Pairing: Peeta x Fire spirit!Male!Reader
Requested: Yes
Request: “Peeta bakes and meets a fire spirit who falls for him”
A/N: Happy Halloween! Here’s part 1 of your Halloween surprise, though there’s more to come. Hope you enjoy!
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Peeta had always been afraid of the basement in his parents’ house- dark and dingy and always a bit cold despite the fire raging away in the bulky furnace in the corner. Mostly though, he was afraid of whatever lurked within the flames in the furnace. He’d seen it once when he was a kid, glowing golden eyes watching him through the swirls of fire, only just able to make out the edges of the figure as it stepped forward, holding out a hand like it was going to get him. He’d turned and ran then, running away up the stairs and bolting the door behind him. Ever since then, he had done everything he could to avoid going back into the basement- offering to do his brothers’ chores in exchange to get one of them to go down there instead of him, hiding and enduring his parents’ punishments when he was found to get out of it.
Now though, with District 12 in ruins and little but the foundations left of many of the homes of the village, he’s left waist deep in rubble and debris trying to take stock of what was salvageable and what would need to be completely rebuilt. He’s faced worse in the last year and a half of his life than what he thought he saw when he was little, so as much as unease is beginning to build in his stomach, he presses on, hefting charred beams out of the way as he tries to unearth what’s left of his family’s home.
His heart lurches in his chest as he moves a couple of splintered beams out of the way and reveals that same old furnace, the big glass window in the door spiderwebbed with cracks but otherwise unchanged. The fire inside had long gone out, but even still Peeta could see a faint glow from a couple of lightly burning embers.
Almost without conscious thought, his fingers drift to the handle of the furnace. The cold metal bites into his hand just enough to get him to hesitate, but the promise of confronting his old fear has him pressing on, twisting the heavy metal handle and wrenching the door open. The gust of fresh air rushes over the coals, sending sparks skittering throughout the furnace and the few coals that had a bit of heat left flare up, shooting from the dim red they’d been glowing to a brighter gold and he can feel a bit of heat coming off of them now.
As Peeta watches, something shifts within the waves of heat emanating off of the coals, shifting and rising from the pile of ashes to coalesce into something more tangible. It starts to take shape as it’s exposed to the air, smoke and sparks and flame cooling and hardening over into skin and hair and admittedly handsome features, completed by those glowing golden eyes that Peeta had remembered from all those years ago.
The spirit steps forward, emerging from the furnace for the first time that Peeta knows about, standing tall before him with squared shoulders and a bright grin, and looking very nearly human for all that Peeta knows that he isn’t.
“Thank you,” the spirit says, voice low and warm like a fire crackling lowly in the hearth on a cold day. Comforting in a way you wouldn’t really think about but can’t help recognizing. “For freeing me.”
Peeta blinks then, startled by the calmness of the creature he’d feared all these years. “You were… trapped in there?”
He nods slowly, the glow in his eyes dimming to a soft (e/c) and Peeta really can’t find it in himself to be intimidated any longer, despite the creature’s power. “I was. I made a deal decades ago to help your father’s father succeed and he double-crossed me. I’d been there ever since, until you let me out.”
“I’m sorry,” Peeta says because he can’t really think of anything else that he can say. “I’m sorry that I didn’t help you sooner.”
The spirit shrugs, bright grin sparking back to life and the spark in his eyes reigniting, “You didn’t know, I can’t hold it against you.” He takes a look around then, seemingly fascinated by all the changes from the last time he’d seen the outside world. He turns back to look at Peeta then, grinning softly as he takes Peeta’s hand in his, “There’s things that need taken care of now that I’m free, but I can assure you, this won’t be the last you see of me Peeta,” he presses a soft kiss to the back of Peeta’s knuckles and seems to spark along the edges of his figure, the firm outline of him breaking apart into little wisps and sparks of fire before Peeta’s eyes as he starts to dissipate, flaking away until all that’s left of the spirit are those glowing eyes, and then even those extinguish.
Feeling a little foolish for being afraid of the fire spirit all this time, Peeta finds himself hoping that he’ll keep his promise as he returns to his work.
#peeta mellark x male reader#peeta mellark x male!reader#male reader x peeta#male!reader x peeta#hunger games x male reader#reader x hunger games#hunger games reader insert#hunger games masterlist#hunger games x reader#male reader insert#male!reader#male reader#male!reader insert#x male reader#x male!reader#x reader#hunger games au#hunger games x male!reader
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I'd Have You Anytime || Remus Lupin x Muggle!Fem!Reader
i've risen from the dead just to finish and post this! i'm sorry for such the long wait everyone! but here it is! i'm hoping this is sufficient, but i personally love muggle!fem!reader, so she might make a comeback eventually. feedback is welcomed and appreciated!
to preface: this part takes place near the first half/middle-ish of november
part one (mb), part two (mb), moodboard for this part
word count: 3.1k
warnings: fluff!!!!!, pining, depression mess, maybe like three swear words
Not working for a week after the pub incident was a blessing in disguise. You were able to break down in silence with nobody secretly judging you. You stayed mainly in your bed, ignoring every phone call and worried message from Lily, James, and even Sirius. Some calls never came with a message, and you feared that it was Remus trying to reach you, so you decided to answer no calls at all.
It was quiet, but it was necessary.
By the end of the week, all your thoughts led to the same conclusion: you were horribly in love with Remus.
As stupid as it may seem, you had fallen for him, and you weren’t getting up anytime soon.
That’s why you acted rashly and left the pub crying. That’s why you shouted at him. You were terrified. Loving someone was a terrifying thing to do, especially when you didn’t really know them. You’d seen Remus twice, and surely that wasn't enough times to truly love someone.
But it strangely was, and you loved him.You knew it because he’s all you could think about. He plagued your thoughts. His face, his eyes, the scars: every part of him was constantly on your mind. Even his voice filled your mind even though you’ve talked to him maybe twice, and one of those times was yelling.
From the chill that ran down your spine when you first saw him, you knew he was the one. There was no doubting that.
Journaling seemed to help, and you spent most of that week doing just that. You wrote pages and pages and ink stained your fingers as you tried to figure out the answer on how you could salvage things, but the answer never really turned up. The only real answer you found is how desperate you were for true love.
A pound on your door caught you by surprise the day before you were supposed to go back to work. You paused your seventh watch through of Romeo and Juliet and walked to the door. You opened it, seeing a crazed-eyed Lily.
“I thought you were dead!” She exclaimed, pushing past you into your flat. “Why didn’t you answer?!”
“Because-”
“When was the last time you cleaned?” She asked, picking up a discarded pizza box from the couch and tossing it on the counter.
You looked around your apartment, suddenly feeling self conscious about its current state. It was a disaster. Pizza boxes, crisp bags, and soda cans lined every surface, and dishes were piled up in the sink. Clothes were strewn everywhere even though you stayed in one outfit for the past week.
“When was the last time you showered?” Lily asked, more concerned than put off by your noticeably greasy appearance.
You shrugged, genuinely not knowing. You knew it had to be at least a week ago.
“Babes,” Lily cooed, holding your hands in hers. “Pull yourself together. He’s just a guy-”
You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “He’s not just-”
“-who still very much would like to see you again,” she finished over you, a spark evident in her eyes. “Especially if you showered,” she mumbled, smiling as you turned red.
You dropped her hands as you threw her a playful glare. “I take it that you’d enjoy seeing me better if I was showered too?”
Lily shrugged, smiling coyly as she mumbled, “I won’t say yes, but it’d be preferred.”
You loosed a sigh. “Fine,” you said, making your way to the bathroom. “Just for you.”
Showering felt nice, and you hadn’t realized what you were missing until you were under the hot water. Because of that, your shower was longer intended, and the water ran cold by the time you were done cleaning yourself off.
You didn’t bother dressing yet since you knew Lily wouldn’t judge you, so you slipped on your robe, making your way to the living room, where she had conquered the mess the trash bags.
“Thought you might’ve died in there,” Lily said from the kitchen, her hands lost in dirty dishwater.
“I had to get clean,” you sighed, your shoulders slumping forward. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know I didn’t,” she replied, putting yet another clean dish on the drying rack. “You’re my friend, and I care about you so I wanted to.”
You hugged her from behind, your cheek pressing into her back as she washed another dish.
“I love you,” you mumbled, and she shut off the tap, turning to give you a proper hug.
“I love you too,” she said, squeezing you tighter before letting go. “Which is why-” she sang, a smile growing on her face. “You’ll come to my holiday party next week, won’t you?”
“Isn’t it a bit early?” You asked, realizing it wasn’t even December.
“Everyone does something different for holidays,” she sighed dramatically. “This is the only time that everyone will be together, and I don’t want you to miss it.” You didn’t say anything, so Lily continued. “I know the whole Remus thing didn’t work out, but I can say for certain that he still would love to see you, okay? Just talk to him. Invite him over or something whenever you see him next.”
You sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
Instead of protesting like normal, Lily nodded, smiling softly. “Come on. Let’s go watch movies like we did when we were girls.”
Lily was gone before you woke up, leaving you a note and a scone.
“Have a great day back! Xoxo Lily,” the note read. You took a bite of the scone, getting dressed for work, and began your walk to the cafe down the road.
Melanie was incoherently swearing at the oven when you came in through the back, dropping a pan of what looked like charcoal on the countertop.
She was your co-worker, and you considered her a friend, but she was horrible at her job. You feared for anyone who had to drink her chunky coffee, eat her blackened pastries, and listen to her swear in Gaelic in the week you were gone.
“There’s a guy waiting out there for you,” Melanie huffed, watching you as you tied a clean apron around your waist. “Been here since this mornin’.”
“Oh, really?” You asked, rolling your eyes. “Is it Ed?” You smiled, thinking of the old man with kind eyes who always asked for you to make his drinks. You missed him dearly.
“No, he’s a younger guy… Like our age,” she replied, chucking the burnt pastries in the trash. “He’s been here every day for a week lookin’ specifically for you. Had to ask him to leave by noon so he wasn’t takin’ up a table.” She glanced up at the time, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I left him today because I knew you’d be here. Didn’t order anything yet, though. ‘M sure he’ll do that once he sees you.”
“Oh.” You felt your face flush, and you suddenly started toying with your hair. You should be creeped out by this, but your heart soars. Somebody is here to see you. “Is he cute?”
“Decent, I guess,” Melanie said with a sigh, glancing at your nervous hands. “You look fine. Just go get his order before he sits here all day looking sad again.”
You rolled your eyes, dropping your hands. “Are you sure-”
“Just go,” Melanie laughed, giving you a playful push out of the kitchen.
He was standing at the counter, his neck hardly craned to see the menu above him. Your heart dropped to your stomach, the sour ache in your chest coming back with a vengeance.
“Remus,” you tried to say, breathier than you wanted. Shit.
“Hiya,” he said. He hardly looked at you, his eyes focused on the menu. “I’m having trouble picking something to order...”
He was so nonchalant, it made your heart ache. His hair was slicked back, like he had just woken up and showered, which was a high possibility since it was only noon. A leather bomber jacket hid a green button up and brown corduroys. He was smiling at you as he stuck his hands in his pockets.
“What’s your favorite drink?” He asked, bringing you back into the conversation. “The other girl just kept giving me black coffee.”
“Melanie has poor taste,” you mumbled, flushing as you looked away from him. “Chocolate?”
“Huh?”
“Do you like chocolate?” You asked.
“I love chocolate,” he said, smiling.
You nodded, silently turning on your heel to start working on his drink.
Your mind, however, was anything but. You were racking your brain on what to say to him. Do you bring it up? Do you invite him over? You could tell Melanie that you needed to take a break, but you just got there, and she would flip her lid. You knew you were going to need the break after the lunch rush. Prepping a conversation failed you last time, and this time, you just needed to wing it.
You sighed, losing a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in, as you shaved chocolate over top of the whipped cream topping. You turned around, presenting the drink with a smile, ignoring the way your hands started shaking.
“Sweet lord,” Remus mumbled, his hand outstretched. “How much do I owe you?”
You handed him the cup, your fingers brushing as he busied his other hand with cash.
“‘S on the house,” you said quietly, your eyes not leaving where his fingers grazed yours. “Don’t tell me that you’ve been paying for Melanie’s black coffee all week.”
“Ahh, so she told you?” Remus asked, his brow quirked. “You probably think I’m creepy-”
“Endearing?” You finished his sentence before his lips even formed the ‘c,’ “Look, Remus-” Your heartbeat quickened. This was it. It’s happening.
“I’m all ears,” he said, grabbing your hand lightly before the bell ringing above the door distracted you.
“Hi! I’ll be right with you!” You greeted the old woman before locking eyes with Remus. “I’m off at eight,” you said, your voice wavering with nerves
A ding of the bell at the counter this time caught Remus’ attention now, making him glance over.
“Just a second, alright?” You tried to sound sweet, tightly smiling at her. You looked back at Remus, squeezing his hand lightly. “Come back-”
The woman dinged the bell impatiently, and Remus huffed, looking at her. “We’re in the middle of a conversation! Just wait a second!” He snapped, his attention back on you immediately. “I’ll walk you home, yeah?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you nodded. “I’ll see you then.”
“I’ll be here at eight sharp,” he said as the bell rang again. “Better deal with her,” he mumbled, dropping your hand as he backed away from the counter.
“Right,” you half laughed, rolling your eyes with a smile. “Work.” They dinged the bell again, clearing their throat. “I’m coming!” You huffed, throwing a brief smile to Remus before attending to the impatient customer.
“Sorry, we’re closed!” You called, your back turned toward the dinging door as you wiped down the counter.
“Damnit,” you heard him hiss. “I wanted one of those… whatever you made me this morning.”
You turned around, finding Remus at the counter clutching a bouquet of sunflowers.
“A cafe mocha.” Your voice was breathy just like this morning, and your cheeks turned pink as he set the sunflowers down on the counter.
“Should probably get those in some water,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “They didn’t like the cold.”
You grabbed the bouquet, plucking off a dried petal. “Where’d you get them?”
Remus shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. “I know a really good florist.”
You nodded quietly, understanding what he meant as you grabbed a large coffee cup, filling it with water. “Make yourself at home,” you said, busying yourself with the bouquet. “I still have to put a few things away… Wipe down a few surfaces. It’ll take me five minutes tops.”
Remus nodded, his hands still in his pockets as he turned on his heel, perusing his way toward the bookshelves near the front of the cafe.
Rather than getting to the work that you had, you watched him.
His long, slender fingers grazed the books as he looked at them, taking his time to look at each spine. He gasped quietly to himself, pulling the book from the shelf.
“Do you mind?” He asked as if he knew you were looking at him, holding up a book.
“As long as you bring it back,” you replied, instantly getting back to work to hide your reddened cheeks.
“I’ll probably be back here tomorrow,” he said, slipping the book in his pocket. “If you’ll have me.”
“Oh, I’d have you anytime,” you replied, glancing up at him to catch him staring and smiling softly. Your heart clenched as you cleared your throat. “What book did you pick?”
“The Shining by Stephen King.” Remus made his way back to the counter, watching you as you put dishes away. “Have you read it?” You nodded, finishing up. “Was it any good?”
“Do you want to know what it’s about?” You asked, facing him as he nodded. You smiled, undoing your apron. “Alright. I’ll tell you all about it.”
“So Danny can see these people?” Remus asked, clutching the book to his chest as he kept up with you on the quick walk.
“Well, they’re ghosts,” you laughed at his reaction. “They aren’t real-”
“Ghosts are very much real,” he said, his eyebrows raised. “I’ve seen them.”
“Well in this case, Danny sees them in his head,” you explained. “It’s the shine.”
“Ahh, I love it when the book title works its way into the story,” Remus sighed, smiling as you slowed. “Is this you?”
You nodded. “This is me,” you confirmed, looking down at the cup of flowers. “You uh-”
“I’ll see you around,” he said quietly, squeezing your elbow.
“You can come up.” You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. “Uh- If you want?”
Remus seemed to stand straighter. “I would love that.”
You smiled, pushing open the complex door, holding it for him to duck inside.
He followed you closely up the stairs, his hands in his pockets. You focused on your feet, knowing that if you didn’t, you’d surely trip. Your brain was screaming, but you kept quiet, the burning in your chest coming back.
You made it to your flat, and you fumbled with the keys, unlocking your door and shuffled inside, Remus in tow.
Closing the door you sighed. “Did you give me a love potion?” You asked candidly, setting the flowers on the counter.
“What?” Remus was still at the door, toeing off his shoes.
“At the wedding?” You could feel your face flushing, feeling stupid, but continuing on anyway. “You gave me a potion you called a sober-up potion… Was it actually-”
“Love potions are very unstable,” he said quietly. “Why would you think that I’d give you one?”
You shrugged. “It’s an easier explanation than what’s really going on.”
“And that is?”
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” you admitted quietly. “That’s stupid, right?”
“I don’t think that’s stupid,” Remus quietly cooed. “I really like you,” he started, his hand now on your shoulder. “I don’t reckon you heard that at the pub even though I told you thrice.”
“Still?” You guffawed when he nodded matter-of-factly. “Remus, I don’t think if you’re remembering right, but I was a c-”
“You should really listen,” he reminded you, his tone lilting. You stopped, crossing your arms over your chest. He took a step away from you, leaning on the counter across from you. “You were looking at the moon. Saying how you preferred the sun more because without it, the moon would just be another dark rock. That made me think, you know? Would I be just a dark rock without you someday? Could I ever get so lucky?”
Your heart clenched at his words, but he continued, ignoring the way your eyebrows pinched together as you nodded.
“Sunflowers,” he said, nodding at the bouquet in its coffee cup vase. “They reminded me of you. They represent sunshine, you know.”
You felt like crying. You felt like kissing him and never stopping. Nobody had ever been this kind, this open, with you before. You swallowed, looking away from him.
“I got full body chills when I caught you looking at me at Lily’s wedding. I thought, ‘I need to buck up and talk to him.’ Then you talked to me while I was reeling over how handsome you are,” you said quietly.
Remus shook his head softly. “You’re just saying-”
“No,” you said, cutting him off. “It’s your turn to listen.”
He conceded, hands going up in quiet allowance for you to continue. You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears.
“I regretted going to the pub because you were there, and you felt different. Like… like the one that got away.” It was like word-vomit. Once you started, you just couldn’t stop, so you continued. “The one that didn’t want me, and I’m so desperate for someone to want me that I start to get angry. I want to be wanted, you know? And I was terrified, Remus, because I love you, and it seemed like you wanted nothing to do with me. A-and now, I just can’t believe that someone like you would want something like me.
“Someone who yelled at you for a misunderstanding. Someone who opens her stupid mouth and ruins absolutely everything.” You hadn’t realized that you started crying until you paused to take a breath, sniffling up tears instead. “Someone who isn’t magic- God, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, hey,” he said, crossing to where you were standing. Slightly crouching, he held your arms, thumbs brushing your biceps lightly. “None of that matters,” he cooed. “I was never mad. A little confused, but hey, aren’t we all?”
You let out a wet chuckle, shrugging. “I suppose.”
“I want you, okay?” He said, cupping your cheeks. “I want you.”
Remus leaned in, eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes as if waiting for your approval. You met him halfway, capturing his lips in yours in a soft kiss. Your heart clenched as you pushed closer to him, hands meeting his stubbly jaw before he pulled away.
“I love you, and you are wanted, alright? Don’t you ever forget that,” he reassured you, smiling.
You nodded. “Okay,” your voice came out raspy, causing you to flush. “Could we do that again?”
“Oh, I’d have you anytime, love,” he said. “Anytime.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x muggle!fem!reader#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin fluff#harvest moon#i'm not in love#i'd have you anytime
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