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#hopefully ill be back with more tomorrow but no promises

builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

Text

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.

689 notes · View notes

thecynthh · 6 months

Text

smart ass - M.S

synopsis - matt’s not doing to well with his schooling but is determined to get his degree and pass his classes. one essay which is a huge part of their grade haunts him with a bad mark, luckily y/n is willing to him him

notes - college setting, no smut yet, more of matt in the next part, hopefully a long series !

author notes - heyyyyy so this is my first series i guess, i hope you guys like this and i promise not to take too long with the next part. love all u babes and j hope u have a nice new years if you celebrate it!

——————————————————————————

a notification appears on my laptop, new grade from Ms.Garcia. shrugs and groans rung throughout the lecture hall, clicking on the notification a website pops up onto my desktop.

*97%,A+ good job y/n keep up the good work*

what were people so upset about, i thought to myself. my shoulder gets tapped by the person beside me.

“oh my god this old woman just hates me,” madi cries from beside me. i peak over at madi’s screen seeing a whopping 54%. i dont understand how that happens to a girl like madi, she was so smart and didn’t deserve that grade. i knew she didnt deserve that, i read her essay myself !

my hand lands on hers, “ okay that’s actually insane for you to be getting a 54, your essay was so good?!?”

everyone's head shoots up to the women below the many rows of seats, “so as you see at your grades only ms y/n got a good grade. i'm willing to let everyone else rewrite their exam and hand it in by next week if you do not like your grade.” the decrepit woman just packs her bag after saying that and begins to leave the room. everyone replicated her and began to pack up their belongings, including me.

madi and i leave the large space and stand in the hall just outside. “oh fuck, i promised nick id meet him after our class, ill see you later babes.” she ghosts a kiss on my cheek as i do the same to her greeting her goodbye. i grab my phone to check the time but to mostly look busy before i head somewhere else.

large footsteps creep up behind me and i hear my name being called. “y/n? thats your name right?” a man around 5’8 is standing in front of me. a little startled i take a second to reply.

“uhm yes that's me” i say replying to him. i notice his outfit, simple black cargos with a baggy sweater over it saying RANSOM with angel wings projecting off of the word.

“s-so i was wondering if you were willing to help me with the essay, you know, maybe study the material more?” he says while slightly looking down and looking very nervous.

“oh yea! of course i’ll bring over my notes and materials that i got from Ms.Garcia. does friday work for you? i have work tomorrow so i’ll be busy after class…” i cringe at my own sentence.

i knew who matt was, he was quite the popular guy and a social media influencer who made a lot of money. he didn’t have to exactly work a normal job like i did. although i don’t blame him, i’ve watched some of their videos and if i’m being honest they are pretty funny. i’ve slowly started to keep up with them ever since i was introduced to them by madi at an influencer party where she and the triplets got invited.

“mhm friday works, you can swing by my house, my brothers won’t be home that night. thanks for this by the way.” he says with his face softening, he definitely seemed more relaxed after i said yes.

“okay then! it’s a date- oh well not really a date, but i mean date as in like… oh you get it.” i trip over my words and finally take in his features. he has a beautiful jawline and scruffy that would feel so good on my-

he chuckles at my mishap “yeah it’s a date just lemme give you my number i’ll text you the address soon.” i present my phone to him as he begins to type out his phone number into his phone, naming his self matt s with a panda emoji next to it.

he’s still typing a little after he names himself, thinking nothing of it i just let him place my phone back into my hand at him as i wave to him bidding him goodbye.

i let my shoulders relax after i see him turn a corner and is out of my line of sight. god why am i so bad at talking to guys, that was straight embarrassing, i thought to myself.

——————

thursday afternoon

madi and i met for coffee after our classes were finished, we caught up ate some small pastries and drank coffee, the usual. but once i told her about what happened yesterday….

“YOU WHAT??” madi says, nearly snorting out her coffee from her nose.

“i agreed to help tutor matt so he can pass this class” i repeat to her seeing zero problem with this.

“so you wanna tutor him, at his house, without his brothers home, at night.” madi tells me in a “matter of fact” tone

“well if you say it like that it sounds like i’m dancing with the devil over here.” i say sarcastically still not seeing the problem.

“you. matt. alone. even after what happened at the party?” madi retorts bringing up the party again.

“okay i still have no fucking clue what you mean by matt was eyefucking me at that party, i was enjoying myself and he was more or less just observing everyone at the party.” god just hearing myself make me realize what is happening.

“you know, just good luck and please don’t be so naive, i don’t want you to get hurt.” madi says in such a sincere tone.

“i’m glad you are at least okay with the whole idea of it, but i gotta go, i have a shift in an hour.” i tell her collecting my things, she stands up and ghosts a kiss on my cheak.

“kk love ya girl, i’ll see you tomorrow.” madi says waving me off before i become late for my shift.

let’s just hope she has at least a little bit of faith in me.

authors note - YAYAYAYAYAY IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS !!!

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #syn speaks #Spotify

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64yrsold · 6 months

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WINTERING 5. naughty vs. nice

twelve days of christmas writing prompts by @abiiors wintering masterlist previous (4)

“Hello?” I mumbled, answering my phone in the dark. The curtains were drawn, all the lights in the house were off, and I was on my third cold-medicine induced nap of the day.

“Hey, are you sick?” Matty asked, huffing into the phone.

“Do not come here,” I said sternly, voice hoarse and tired.

“I’m just asking!” He laughed, the sound of traffic in the background of the call.

“Who told you?” I accused, rubbing my swollen eyes.

“Nobody told me anything,” he said.

I sniffled.

“Alright, your mum, but—“

“Why are you talking to my mum,” I groaned, burying my head into my pillow. “We are not together!”

“She phoned me!” He defended, and I could see his hands high in the air. “She said you weren’t picking up your phone.”

“I’m sleeping,” I sighed, “Really, I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

“Right,” he said, “Christ, you forgot to lock your door again.”

“Fuck, Matty—“

“It’s fine,” he cooed, and hung up the phone. I heard his clunky footsteps in the entrance, and pulled the covers over my head. It was embarrassing to have him see me like this, red-nosed and surrounded by half-finished bottles of Nyquil.

“How are we feeling?” He asked sheepishly, stepping into my dark cave of a room.

“I’m sick,” I reminded him, muffled from under the blankets, “And you’re not allowed to look at me.”

I could hear his smile, “Alright, I won’t look.”

“You should really go,” I insisted, “I’ll make you ill. You’ll miss your plane.”

“That’s not for a while,” he replied, setting something down on my nightstand. I felt his weight on the edge of the bed. I felt like a marble circling the drain, pulled in by him.

“I might puke,” I said, and he laughed again.

“As if I’ve never seen that before.”

I peeked out from the covers, “You need to go.”

He smiled at me, a pretty shape I could barely distinguish in the dark. It seemed more like a memory.

“I brought your soup,” he pointed at a takeout bag on the nightstand.

“I don’t like soup,” I murmured.

“You'll like this one,” he said, and grabbed the corner of my blanket, pulling it down below my chin. “Promise.”

“I should really go back to sleep,” I complained, “The cold medicine makes me all loopy.”

“Just sit up, darling,” he grumbled, then picked me up so I sat upright, my back against the headboard.

“I’m fine,” I blinked, surprised that he had grabbed me and moved me.

He opened the container of soup, stirring it slowly, “You need to be feeling better for tomorrow, you know.”

“I know, I’m trying,” I sighed, a throb pulsing near the back of my head. I wished I could pull him into me, to sleep with my head on his chest, to let him take care of me. His thumb massaging the back of my skull.

“Are you going to your mum’s tomorrow?” He placed the soup in my hands, the steam coming off it making me feverish.

“I want to, since it’s Christmas,” I shrugged, “But it would be horrible of me to get her sick.”

“Ah, she won’t care,” he nudged the spoon into my hand.

“Right,” I rolled my eyes, “If I’m not feeling better, I’ll just stay home.”

“Home alone?” He asked, frowning, “On Christmas Day?”

“Well, hopefully I’ll just be feeling better.”

He took a deep breath, “Can you eat the fucking soup already?”

I giggled, a splitting pain cracking up my face from my laughter. I winced. I watched him pick at his cuticles, trying not to look at me. I took a few spoonfuls of the soup, looking up at him timidly.

“You don’t like it?” He hid a smile, shaking his head as he put the soup back on the nightstand.

“I’m just so nauseous,” I whined, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he shrugged, “More for me.” He picked up the spoon, stirring the soup again.

My mouth opened, “You’re not gonna eat that, right?”

“Hm?” He grunted, then downed a spoonful.

“Matty!” I shrieked, smacking his arm.

“What, what?” He laughed, shying away from me.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” I covered my face with my hands, “You’re going to have this stupid cold tomorrow, and you’re going to be a baby about it, and I’m not taking care of you!”

He didn't seem bothered by the violence in my words.

“Couldn’t let you spend Christmas alone,” he mumbled, looking back to smile at me between bites.

-> next (6)

#wintering #christmas75 #12 days of christmas #matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty

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honeybeefae · 2 years

Text

In Sickness and In Health (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Summary// While Eris has been away for a meeting with the other High Lords, you stayed behind due to not feeling well. A few days have passed and you have only gotten worse, barely able to rise out of bed, but you refuse to send word to your mate so that he wouldn’t have to come all the way back for you. However, you should know that he knows you better than yourself.

(This was an anon ask for a fluff piece of Eris! I immediately started writing as I could use all the comfort fics rn. I wrote this in an hour so I'm sorry if it's short! No warnings in this one besides the reader being sick and throwing up. Enjoy <3)

WARNINGS: None

Taglist: @acourtoffaeandfanfic @crazysocklovingfangirl @azriels-mate123 @highladyvanserra @momlo @lovelynesta @mystic-scripture @marimorena06

You could feel the start of a cold coming on the day Eris was meant to leave. It started with a slight chill that immediately caught your mate’s attention, eyebrows furrowing when he saw you bundled up in a blanket by the window.

“Are you cold?” He asked while walking over to you, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. “You feel warm, Y/N.”

“I’m fine. I think there is just a draft in here.” You replied with a smile, grabbing his hand and laying a kiss on his fingers. “Besides you’ve got other things to worry about.”

Eris rolled his eyes at your dismissal. “I am sure they would be happy without my presence. You are always my first concern.”

Your cheeks started to turn pink from his kind words. Eris always played the bad guy role for everyone else, making sure no one saw through the mask, but you were one of the few exceptions. He treated you with tenderness and love that most people would think only existed in the pages of a book.

And you thanked the Cauldron every day that he was yours and you were his.

“I promise I will be alright.” You repeated before seeing one of his men waiting outside the door. “You will be late if you continue to fuss over me, and if you are I will not hear the end of it from Feyre so go on.”

He smirked at your tone, pulling you into his strong arm and giving you one last kiss goodbye. “Try not to run into trouble while I am gone.”

As he turned to leave you felt your heart clench, wanting to reach out and pull him back into your embrace. It was always hard to see him leave, especially with the way things were going, but you knew others needed him more than you right now.

Eris gave you a smile and a silent ‘I love you’ before disappearing down the hall, the sounds of his footsteps fading into the air. The chill that had been creeping into your bones came back full force, a shudder making its way through your body.

You went to your bed and rolled to Eris’s side, burying your head in his pillow that still smelled like him as sleep started to settle in your eyes. This cold would be over with by tomorrow, all you needed to do was get some extra rest and dream of your mate.

It has been three days and the cold you thought you had turned out to be something much worse. Your healer, Emelin, was at a loss for what to do. The chill turned into a high fever, sore throat, upset stomach, and a host of other issues. Thankfully it wasn’t fatal but it was miserable.

You were certain you had lost weight, unable to eat anything without throwing it back up, while also barely being able to drink due to how sore your throat was. The sheets had to be changed multiple times due to your sweat and sickness.

Emelin begged to send word to your mate but you refused, knowing he would come straight home and miss the meeting. It was called for by Helion, an emergency that only gave everyone two days' notice. Whatever happened Eris needed to be there and you would survive this…hopefully.

She gave you different teas and brews, trying and failing to cure the sickness. After the second day, you shooed her away to go help the others who had also fallen ill, ignoring her protests. It was just something you were going to have to power through.

And now, as you lie in bed with your teeth chattering, you were beginning to doubt if you could power through this. The sun was just starting to set and was casting the room in a comforting blanket of pink and orange. It was the kind of sunset you wish Eris was here to see, the two of you reading in the study as he absentmindedly played with your fingers.

The image made tears spring to your eyes, your body curling into the blankets as you held onto his pillow. It was silly of you to cry over something so small but you truly missed him, dreaming of him every night only to wake up alone. A small part of you wished you had just given in and ask him to stay, knowing his presence would make you feel a hundred times better, but the bigger part knew that he had duties.

You might be his mate but he was High Lord of Autumn, he had a responsibility that to you always came first.

A cough rattled out of your chest that ended in a sob. It was so pathetic, letting the loneliness and sickness get to you like this, but you couldn’t stop. The light from the window started to fade as the tears ran down like tiny streams, soaking the pillow.

“Oh, my darling.” A soft voice said from above, brushing your wet hair away from your forehead. It sounded like Eris which only made things worse, knowing your mind was so far gone that it began to hallucinate.

Until two strong arms scooped you from underneath the covers and pulled you into a body that felt like home. Your head shot up, stars filling your vision as you stared at him…your mate.

“Eris?” You croaked, lower lip quivering.

His eyes were pained as he took in your appearance, his thumb wiping away your tears. “I’m here, Y/N.”

Your body was exhausted but you used all your energy to throw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest as you let everything out. Eris crushed you against him as you cried, head resting atop of yours as your sobs turned into sniffles.

“How did you know?” You mumbled, turning your head to look up at him.

“I had a feeling.” Eris explained as he reached for the tissues. “I think you forget that I know you better than you do.”

You grabbed a few and wiped your eyes and nose, bunching them up and throwing them into the trash. He helped you sit up and rubbed your back as another cough worked up your throat.

“I didn’t want you to miss the meeting, it was important.” You said softly while fiddling with your fingers. “I didn’t know it would get this bad.”

He shook his head and scooped you up again, carrying you to the bathroom and turning on the bath. “As fate would have it, Rhysand was telling me about a sickness that had recently plagued his court. I sent word to Emelin but she was mysteriously quiet.”

A sheepish smile made its way across your lips as you let him undress you, the shivers causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “You had more important things, I was okay-”

Eris softly grasped your chin and made you look at him, eyes serious. “Y/N. You are the most important thing to me. Without you, I am lost. You will always, always, come before anything or anyone. Do you understand?”

You could see the sincerity in his stare, and feel his words wrapping around your soul like your favorite shirt. A small sniffle and nod was your only reply but he was happy with it, kissing your forehead before turning off the water.

“Come now, let me take care of you.”

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x reader acotar #acotar #acomaf #acosf #acowar #acofas #fluff

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negativepeanuthoarder · 4 months

Note

PLEASE MORE PREGGOS SAP N DNN PLEASEEE either angst or fluff

Alright I'm going to set a timer for 20 minutes and write as much as I can :)

944 words, not proofread, Mpreg, no smut, one mention of weight gain/loss

"I feel awful," Sapnap grumbles, lying down on the couch and staring at the ceiling. He really has - waking up every morning with horrible vomiting and fatigue, unable to do much of anything except lie down and sleep, and he can't even do that half the time.

"I know," Dream walks past and touches Sapnap's head before putting a cup of tea on the little table beside him. It's ginger tea, supposed to soothe his upset stomach.

Sapnap sips at it weakly, exhausted. "What even causes this stuff anyways?"

"It's probably just a virus," Dream assures as George walks into the room, spotting Sapnap and Dream on the couch and making a beeline for them both.

"It can't be a virus," George comments casually, leaning onto Sapnap like a nosy cat. "You've been sick for like a week now and none of us have caught it."

Sapnap sighs. "Do you think it's going to go away?"

"Probably," Dream assures. "If you throw up tomorrow we'll go to the doctor's."

"Mm," Sapnap mumbles, rolling over a little and burying himself in throw pillows and blankets, wanting nothing more then to nap for a while and hopefully sleep this off.

George inches closer until they're cuddled up against one another and Dream smiles at them both, gently leaning to kiss Sapnap's forehead and George's cheek, before standing. "I've got some work to do in my office, okay? But I promise I'll be right back when I'm done, we can watch a movie or play a game."

"Okay," Sapnap mumbles. "Can you email someone for me and tell them I can't stream?"

"Of course," Dream assures. "Love you."

"Love you too," Sapnap mumbles, sighing as he finally sinks into the mattress and into a dreamless sleep.

George is deeply suspicious of this.

For one, Sapnap throwing up constantly without getting Dream and George sick is weird enough on it's own, but there's other things he's picking up on that neither Sapnap nor Dream seem to notice.

Sapnap frequently leaving their bed in the middle of the night, avoiding foods he used to like while gravitating towards stuff he normally hates, the slight weight gain even though they've been working out all the time.

All signs point to Sapnap being pregnant, which is completely ridiculous because Sapnap can't get pregnant.

Which is why George hasn't brought it up.

But today's as good a day as any to bring this up to Dream and ask what he thinks. George is getting a little sick of feeling like the only person around here with eyeballs.

He releases Sapnap gently, running his hand over his boyfriend's midsection just in case, wondering if he's actually right, if there is a little baby growing inside Sapnap. Sapnap whines in his sleep and rolls over, away from George, and George slips out of the living room and to Dream's office.

"Can we talk?" He asks, knocking at the open door.

Dream tugs off his headphones. "Yeah, what's up?"

George sighs. This is going to be a weird conversation so he might as well get it out of the way. "I think Sapnap's pregnant."

Dream stares at him for a long moment before snorting, amused. "Okay. That's pretty funny - just because he's caught something or had food poisioning doesn't mean he's-"

"I'm serious," George frowns at him. "He's getting up all the time, has all this weird food stuff, sleeps all day, he's sick, and on top of that he's gained a little weight. He's pregnant."

Dream looks at George for a long moment, trying to process that information. "But... George he's - he can't get pregnant, he doesn't even have a like... uterus. That's impossible."

"It's either that or he's got some weird illness that's masqerading as pregnancy," George sighs. "Look it couldn't hurt to take a pregnancy test, can it?"

Dream looks skeptical. "Yeah, that won't hurt, but good luck convincing Sapnap he's pregnant."

George slinks off, ordering a pregnancy test for same-day delivery online as he does so, and trots back to the living room.

Turns out Sapnap is extremely easy to convince he needs to take a pregnancy test. He thinks it's a joke and humors George by taking it.

And then it comes back positive. He's pregnant. He really is pregnant. Sapnap is pregnant.

"This doesn't- I'm not even- I shouldn't-" Sapnap mutters, sitting down at a barstool while Dream and George get food for the three of them. "This shouldn't even be possible."

"Well... we'll get a good look at the doctor's office tomorrow," Dream sighs, before walking over to kiss Sapnap's head. "But until then you probably need to rest for a little, okay?"

Sapnap agrees, purely because he's really tired and just wants to nap in their bed. He also wants them to snuggle with him, and he wants the cats to snuggle with him too, even though they're entirely disinterested in doing that.

Except Patches, who leans against him and purrs while he sleeps, warm and safe in their big bed. Dream joins him a little later with a laptop to work on, and George climbs in with his phone. He likes resting his hand on Sapnap's tummy.

George loves it, loves feeling like he's holding a baby inside Sapnap, a little jelly bean. Their baby, all three of them. Their little baby growing inside Sapnap. He loves it. He loves them already, because they're a part of Sapnap and George loves Sapnap and he loves Dream and he loves whatever this is.

Even if this is all a false alarm. But that's a worry for tomorrow. Today George is happy with his boyfriends and their baby.

#fics by peanut #dreamnotnap #dnn #mpreg

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jupitermaidalinejoy · 7 months

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Those Sundays

Wednesday's head was hazy, her brain in all the wrong places. She was tramping through the woods, trying to find peace somewhere. Curse this educational penitentiary, it was hell. There were no quiet places on campus, not even in the library. That's were most of the Gorgons made out or where the Skins went to paint on their eyebrows for the thirteenth time of the day.

It was a dreary Sunday, one Wednesday had expected to relish in, but instead was left crumpled and torn, now blowing abreeze throughout the extensive school grounds, deep in the forest where none of the students ever went. She was disappointed to see the absence of life-threatening beings of any kind like all the other students had informed her about. No, all that was were was trees and a gray sky, along with a calculated, but still thick slice of creek cut diagonally through the wood about fifty yards from where she stood now.

She wished she had grabbed a coat beforehand, but she had rushed out of the dorm with haste, the consequences terraforming as goosebumps along her arms and legs. The black and white pleaded skirt clinging to her legs didn't exactly help to warm herself.

There were little helicopter seeds raining from all around her, which annoyed the goth to death, as they would soon have to be surgically removed from the bottoms of her shoes. That was one surgical procedure that she didn't actually enjoy conducting. Words were spinning about in her consciousness, but not in the way that made her want to sit down and write. It was in the way that made her want that knife stuffed right back into her gut, and for it to never be removed this time. For her to not get get saved this time. It was just one of those Sundays.

"I've had enough, Wednesday!"

"Enid, I-"

"I'm done with your bullshit! I could have gotten killed! You could have gotten killed! Jesus Willa, go on a walk. I can't be around you right now and I'm not leaving this time"

"But if you would just-"

"Go!"

The words pounding at her this time didn't come from her own mind. They came from somewhere she cared about a lot more. So they stung a lot more. And she knew they'd stay there for a lot longer before dissipating into her lungs, breathing each and every one of her words like it was her only goddamn oxygen left.

So when she finally made herself return to her dorm room, after so many hours and on the verge of hypothermia, Enid was asleep in her bed. Hopefully it would have been forgotten by tomorrow.

heyyyy i just felt like writng tho this isn't much. hope you like it tho! i promise the second i have an a03 ill share it and all of this will be uploaded to there! okay lovee youu!

#enid sinclair #wednesday addams #wenclair #wednesday #wednesday x enid

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kanai-ward-census · 7 months

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I think I'm gonna take an eeny weeny break. I'll still post the submission form tomorrow but I'm not gonna make any promises on the closing date and the tournament opening date. Hopefully this isn't too bothersome for you guys. Just think about all the time you'll have to submit your little people! That should be good.

If anyone's curious on the reasoning for my break (not sure why people would care, but yk) I'll list vague reasoning under the cut. I won't go too into it because that's my business, but I'll provide some explanation just so you guys aren't left in the dark. Do not click "read more" unless you're prepared for my complaining lmao

I am very very very very very tired and exhausted. Yeah that's the main reason. I'm physically sick, I keep breaking out in hives, my coursework is overwhelming and I have absolutely no motivation for it, I'm very busy and I'll continue to be busy... forever actually. Until I achieve my dream of being a hermit. Soon.... also, on top of all of that, mental illness sure does exist. I have no access to professional help currently and nobody really knows what to do with me anyway, so I'm sorta stuck on this one. Sooo. Yeah that's why I'm taking a break. I really do like these tournaments and wanna keep doing them, don't get me wrong, there's just simply no time. Same with a majority of my hobbies tbh. I haven't been able to play any games or draw or write in a long time. Most I've been able to do is sketch during math class. But I'll do my best to get back to an operating level, so I can continue doing tournaments. Thanks for understanding, guys!

#info #announcement #update #me complaining ;(#idk what to tag this tbh #creeper! aw man

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deepspacedukat · 2 years

Text

Manners

Goddammit, I’ve got the brainrot real bad. He’s a fucked up evil rich man, but... ✨p r e t t y ✨... Anyway, hopefully writing this quickie drabble will get it out of my system. We all know that’s not how it works, but why not try? It’s not like writing about him will make it worse, right? ...R-Right?

I’ll get back to requests, I promise. But my brain needed to get this out first.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Shepard Lambrick (Would You Rather) x Reader

[A/N: Idk, I should probably explain myself, but...I don’t wanna, so I won’t.]

Warnings: Language, Julian being a spoiled brat, Shepard being a gentleman, mild flirting.

~*~

In my defense, it had been a long week. I was tired and only vaguely paying attention to where I was walking on my way home from work. Before I had even registered that there was someone in my path, I’d rounded a corner, collided with them, and was wearing their very hot coffee in short order. As I stammered apologies, an angry snarl came from the other person.

“Are you fucking blind? You clumsy, brainless little–” The young man in a suit looked as though he was about to haul off and hit me.

“Julian, be quiet! I’m sure it was an accident. Mind your manners. There’s no need to use such language, especially around a lady,” an older gentleman silenced the young man who’d been shouting so indignantly. He was the more immaculately dressed of the two, and if I had to take a guess, I’d say he was his father. Both their appearances practically screamed how blue their blood was. The older man gave me a smile and placed a careful hand on my upper arm. “I’m so sorry for my son’s abhorrent lack of manners, Miss. Are you alright?”

“I...Yes, sir. I’m fine. I really am sorry, though. At least let me pay for a new coffee,” I offered, but the kinder of the two simply shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary, I assure you.” His son scoffed beside him and was immediately given a stern glare. “My name is Shepard Lambrick, and my ill-tempered son, who you’ve already met, is Julian.”

After a polite smile from the man and a roll of his son’s eyes, I introduced myself as well. Shepard repeated my name quietly before lifting my hand to his lips like an old-fashioned gentleman might have.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, though I wish it had been under better circumstances. Julian, why don’t you run along back to the car and wait with Bevans while I rectify this situation?” With a muttered ‘whatever,’ the two of us were left alone. Suddenly, Mr. Lambrick’s gaze felt slightly more weighted. Under the intense scrutiny of his striking brown eyes, I was acutely aware of the rapidly-cooling coffee staining the front of my work uniform. The cold breeze swirling through the town didn’t work in my favor as I struggled to contain a shiver. “Now, my dear, what can I do to make up for my son’s behavior?”

“Mr. Lambrick, there’s no need. Really, I’m fine.” My protests fell on deaf ears as he tutted quietly.

“I can’t in good conscience allow this to pass without doing something to fix it. My honor would be sullied if I let such a lovely young lady walk away without restitution for the embarrassment my son has caused,” he said, and with a blink I realized that his fingers were still wrapped gently but firmly around mine. “I could have your clothes cleaned, or buy you replacements?”

“That won’t be necessary. Tomorrow is laundry day anyway. There’s no harm done.”

“Then perhaps I can at least treat you to dinner tomorrow evening?” This time he sounded genuinely hopeful. “And before you give me some exceedingly kind demurral, I assure you it would be my pleasure to share your company. Please?”

He seemed so genuine. I had only just met him, but...well, I supposed there was no harm in a dinner invitation.

“Mr. Lambrick–”

“Please, call me Shep,” he said giving my hand a little squeeze. His brow furrowed momentarily and he pulled off his suit jacket, draping it around my shoulders. “Where are my manners? I completely forgot how cold it can get this time of year. As for dinner, I promise you’ll enjoy it. What do you say?”

I’d never been on the receiving end of such a gentlemanly gesture. Being careful not to allow his obviously expensive suit touch the stained part of my clothing, I savored the warmth embedded in the fabric. Even the cologne clinging to the material smelled expensive. Who the hell was Mr. Lambrick, anyway? Just like that, curiosity made up my mind for me.

“...Alright. Sure. That sounds...really nice, actually.” It had been a long time since I’d had a meal that I hadn’t cooked myself. At my acceptance, a large, warm smile spread across his lips.

Oh no, he was actually quite attractive.

“Wonderful! Splendid! Give this number a call at your earliest convenience - it’s my driver’s - and I’ll make arrangements for him to pick you up,” he said releasing my hand just long enough to hand me a business card. “I very much look forward to seeing you tomorrow, my dear.”

He pressed a soft kiss onto the back of my hand, and as he began to walk away I paused.

“What about your jacket?”

“Keep it. I have plenty of other suits,” Shepard said tossing me a wink before continuing on his way.

#deepspacedukat fic #shepard lambrick #shepard lambrick x reader #*brainrot intensifies*#I think Shep snuck up behind me in an alley and smacked me with a 'feelings' club #Excuse me I did not consent to having feelings about this man #he drew me in with his stupidly sexy suits and dilfness #it's a problem okay???#OH NO I WAS WRONG #IT'S NOT OUT OF MY SYSTEM #I JUST HAD AN IDEA FOR A MULTI-CHAP FIC #FUCK #not again #THIS is how I end up with so many fucking drafts #okay OKAY FUCK #I'll make this part 1 of a series #I've just been bullied into writing by my brain #rejoice ye Shepard Lambrick fuckers #there shall be more

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lightspren · 10 months

Text

i am anxious and 🤯 so i am typing out shit that’s worrying me to make it stop

I am worried bc there were ants in my car. I had closed some tall grass in the door and when i opened it they were running along the edge. I sprayed ant spray but then on the way home squished four on the windshield/dashboard. I need to spray for ants but given that i feel like shit i haven’t been able to yet and probably won’t tomorrow. Solution: I will ant spray Sunday or Monday. It’s fine. I’m not using my car until then anyway and the spray will kill ant society just as well as one or two ants. and it is not a moral failing to have ants in my car. shit happens.

i am still worried about fleas. Spouse has been in the basement a few times since bug guy came last and not seen any. I have not seen any in two weeks. The cats are still healing fine, don’t seem to be scratching excessively. The one that reacts so strongly is still having her fur grow back normally. We have spray for the yard that spouse can probably use next week. Solution: none, nothing needs done on this right now, it’s just a long process but it’s coming along. need to accept that everything is okay and the fleas are honestly probably dealt with. and every tickle i feel is Not a flea. and again it wasn’t a moral failing that we got fleas. shit, again, happens.

worried that i’m wasting time bc i keep just sitting like a lump staring bc i’m too tired to do anything. solution: yes free time is limited by work and you had all these grand ideas for things you could get done, but recovering from surgery comes first. pushing thru feeling awful will not make you get better. you’ll just get fewer things done, and done worse. calm down.

worried that i probably won’t feel like going and seeing my nephews again this weekend, and one of them really desperately wants me to come hang out. solution: he may be disappointed but he’ll be okay. you can visit later next week. even if he doesn’t understand fully, then it’s a learning experience. you are not failing the kids.

worried that i promised two nephews I’d make them plushies like… two months ago, and haven’t started yet. I got most of the supplies but am still missing a few, which tbh I should go see if I can order that. regardless, solution: they’ll live. you’re making the kids plushies on your own dime as a gift. they can learn patience if it takes you a while to get them done. yes they’re kids and don’t understand adult obligations, but it won’t emotionally scar them for life if it takes you a while to get the plushies done. you aren’t breaking a promise.

worried about how little it took to tank me, like two days of three hours activity each and the next two days went down the shitter. solution: fucking rest, dude. rest. REST. you had an ORGAN REMOVED and you’re chronically ill on top of that, you have. to. rest.

worried that I didn’t get to make sweets for spouses birthday today, and that i won’t feel like doing it tomorrow. solution: just. don’t make them. you know he would rather you rested than cooked things for him. you and he both know it’s just a date, and sweets could be made the next day or the next and it’s fine. you know he would feel awful if you overextended yourself to do something for him. if you can’t make them tomorrow it’s genuinely just fine.

okay i think. that’s it. really the overall solution here is that there is nothing life or death on my to do list, and the obligations i’ve made can easily be rearranged or postponed, and that won’t make anyone hate me or lead to all out apocalypse. it’s okay. everything is okay. i need to rest tomorrow. if I feel like it, I can write, and make the candied citrus, and maybe put the paint samples on the wall, but I should not attempt to do anything more. and at spouses gentle suggestion I have not set an alarm, so i will sleep in tomorrow and hopefully it doesn’t fuck up my sleep schedule but I probably desperately need the extra sleep.

you’d think I would be used to being sick and having to rearrange my life around it, given i’ve been chronically ill for a decade plus, but apparently I’m going to be frustrated and anxious about it Forever. sigh.

ETA I’m also fucking anxious about my story bc i’m afraid it’s cliched or dumb or unoriginal or the characters aren’t developed enough or BLAH BLAH. soliton: YOU ARENT DONE WRITING IT YET. FIX IT LATER. and also you’re writing for YOU, yes I’d love if some people also loved my story but ultimately it is for ME, so calm tf down. you can get second opinions on it when you’ve fixed the rough draft into. first draft.

#kit talks #i do think it helped to write it out though #the logical paths are Right Here now instead of swirling around my head and getting tripped on each other #now i just need to sleep #alphabet soup of chronic illnesses #kit surgery talk

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randomw07writes · 2 years

Text

Day 1 - Music

It’s @dennorweek yet again, so here I am with yet another au crafted specifically for the event! And this time, it’s a fantasy one!

As always, if you prefer to read fics on AO3, here’s the link !

Word count: 2.7k / Warnings: none

Eirik = Norway / Mathias = Denmark / Dagfinnur = Iceland

"One... two... three!"

The child didn't even have time to yelp before her shoulder was put back in place. His hand still clasping her arm, Eirik let a trickle of magic seep underneath her skin, to pool around the joint and ensure it wouldn't dislocate so easily in future. There. All done. The moment he let go, she immediately started to swing her arm in circles, cautious at first, before gaining momentum, a grin spreading across her face as she realised the action caused her no pain.

"You fixed it!"

He smiled at her. "I told you I would."

"Yeah, but it didn't even hurt! How do you even do that?"

"Years of training. Now," he turned serious, "you need to be more careful with your games. I might not be so gentle the next time you hurt yourself going places you shouldn't."

There was far more he could add, but time was ticking. His patient gulped, glancing down at her feet, before excusing herself with hasty apologies and promises that it wouldn't happen again. She was out the door before he even had time to blink. Well, hopefully that meant the warning would sink in. Eirik wouldn't actually go through with it, but the city children didn't know that. Still, the less injuries brought on by stupidity he had to tend to, the more magic he could spend on people with life-threatening illnesses.

He yawned, stretching his aching limbs. Festival days were exhausting. Far more carelessness in the air than usual, which meant far more people coming to see him. First it was the children, bursting into his clinic with tears spilling down their cheeks, showing him dislocated shoulders, sprained ankles, and bloody scrapes that would take him only seconds to fix. Then came the elderly, dizzy with heat exhaustion at best, and the adults who had tripped over something, somehow managing to break a limb in the process. Finally, once the moon had risen, he tended to the idiots who had chosen to play with fireworks, dealt with the cases of alcohol and food poisoning, and fought tooth and nail to help those who had found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And tomorrow wouldn't be much better. He would be visited by patients whose limbs had swollen up overnight, with gashes that desperately needed stitches - the type of injuries that looked fine under the shadow of the moon, but come morning light, had become medical emergencies. Then there were the panicked youths abruptly made aware of the potential consequences of their careless night of passion, the anxious parents whose child had swallowed something they shouldn't have, the overworked vendors who had come to beg for something that would give them enough energy to last the day... No doubt about it, festival days gave Eirik the worst headaches.

The door swung open. He turned to greet the new patient, only for his words to die in his throat as a steaming mug was slammed on his desk. His brother glared at him.

"Take a break."

Ah. He must have been working longer than he thought. He clasped the mug with two hands. Coffee, his favourite. And was that ginger he could smell? He took a sip. Yes, it was. And there was something else in there, too... Moonleaf, was it? Well, that was unexpected. Did Dagfinnur think he was that exhausted already?

"Thank you. How many in the waiting room?"

"Enough for me to handle." His brother frowned. "Seriously, you've been working nonstop the past five hours. Don't tell me your head isn't killing you."

Eirik held his tongue. That was exactly what he had been about to say. Taking another sip of coffee, he let his awareness of himself unfurl. Almost immediately, the aches and pains he had been withholding from himself let themselves be known. His neck ached, his back ached, his stomach felt hollow with hunger, and his head was throbbing. He gritted his teeth. The moonleaf would get rid of the headache. It was a fast-working plant; already the throbbing was becoming more and more intermittent. His other aches could simply be pushed to the back of his mind a little longer.

"I'll be fine. You should be out enjoying the festival."

"I have been." Dagfinnur rolled his eyes. "Now go on, get that down you and then shoo! Take a couple of hours to clear your head. If I need you, I'll send Mr Puffin."

There was no room for argument. Eirik sighed. His brother could be annoyingly stubborn when he wanted to be. Who did he get that from? Downing his mug in three gulps, he pulled himself to his feet.

"Alright, you win. Don't let anyone die in my absence."

He didn't wait around for a response.

Although the waiting room was busy, the cobbled street was quiet. That was comforting. Although Dagfinnur was perfectly capable of taking over for a few hours, there were always people trying to skip the long wait, marching up and demanding they be seen immediately. And whereas Eirik could determine who needed his help the moment with just a gentle prod of his magic, his non-magical brother could only rely on what he saw and was told. Easy, then, for him to feel overwhelmed.

Still, Eirik sternly reminded himself, Dagfinnur was a grown man now. He would be fine. And he always had Mr Puffin if anything went wrong.

His stomach growled, more loudly this time. The moonleaf may quickly be ridding him of his headache, it wouldn't fix his hunger. Best make finding a bite to eat his first priority, then.

Fortunately, this wasn't a difficult task. Stalls had popped up in every street, selling anything from quail stuffed with garlic, onions and tomatoes to strips of smoked pork coated in honey and spices that were eaten wedged between two slices of bread. Eirik quickly decided on a bowl of chicken broth, paying extra for a few steamed potatoes and leeks to be dumped in it. He walked past the long tables and benches people had gathered on, from which they were shouting and cheering at one another as they exchanged tidings from around the realm, eager to make new friends. Instead, he slowly made his way through the streets, savouring his meal with every step.

The music festival was by far one of the most anticipated in the realm. On the first full moon following the summer solstice, the King and Queen hosted the Musician's Ball, where only the best musicians were invited to perform. Consequently, a few days before, hopefuls flocked to the capital, where they performed for the people in the streets, praying they would make a good enough impression that they receive last minute invitations. Nowadays, the event had become a lot more localised. Many chose to perform in their home towns, while others made the long trek to the capital but with the sole purpose of earning a few extra coins.

Regardless, the city was heaving. Crowds filled every street and square, a slow-moving procession that trusted you not to be in a hurry. It was rare for people to stop and listen to every bard or musician they passed - most based their judgment on how many were gathered around them and what kind of music they were playing. And the bard who seemed to have attracted the largest audience was the one by their local baker's, who was singing a famous war ballad.

Eirik drifted closer. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of soldiers and guards here. Excitement sparked in him as he spotted some green tabards among the brown of the city guards and the red of the King's Guards. He swept his gaze over the scattered Queen's Guards. Mathias should be working right now, but you never knew... There! His heart soared.

His husband was listening to the ballad in rapt attention, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Eirik immediately carved a path through the crowd to stand beside him, bumping their shoulders in silent greeting. Mathias spared him a puzzled but delighted smile before turning back to the bard. A tale of loss and heroism filled their ears as Eirik finished the rest of his broth.

The ballad ended on vow to remember the soldiers they had lost, dwindling to a few sorrowful notes before stopping entirely. Once the applause had died down and the crowd dispersed, Eirik waited for Mathias to toss a few coins to the bard before discarding his empty bowl in one of the containers that had been placed all over the city to prevent littering. With both hands now free, there was nothing preventing his husband from entwining one with his.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here! I thought you were working all day?"

"I should be." He pulled a face. "Alas, Dagfinn convinced me to take a break. I take it your shift starts later than planned?"

Mathias winced. "Yeah. Last minute changes. Captain put me on the night shift instead. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. You know I'm busiest come nightfall."

"I know." A gentle squeeze of his hand. "Just... try not to overwork yourself, okay? You need sleep just as much as the rest of us."

Sometimes, it really was as if not one of his loved ones trusted him to know the limits of his own body. Eirik made sure his sigh conveyed just how exasperated he was by their constant nagging.

"You're even worse than Dagfinn. Now come, where haven't you been yet?"

Thus, they strolled through the city, content to explore the festival at their own pace now they were together. Every now and again, they would stop to listen to a song in its entirety, making sure to toss some coins in the tins the performers had left out. A lot, Eirik noticed, had been left for the musicians to plan themselves. There were no allotted placed; they had to arrive early if they wanted the best spots. Some performed on doorsteps, others in alcoves... There were even a few who had negotiated with locals and merchants in order to use their balcony. Some had brought a small platform with them, while others carried nothing more than a wooden stool. A couple had thought to leave benches out for their audience, although the majority seemed to think no one would mind standing. It was a clash of tastes and styles, one you wouldn't find anywhere else.

Not everything played was original. A rendition of the Coronation of King Antonio filled every street, as did The Lady Turned Queen. Although each bard gave them their own spin, most war ballads told the same story, and there were only so many ways to share the tale of the capital's foundation or the unification of the seven provinces.

Not everything involved history, either. His friend Feliciano was sharing a rhyme that told of various herbs and their uses in medicine. The two exchanged a greeting as apprentices and children alike tried to repeat in that same sing-song tone of voice. Unfortunately, what sounded melodious frim Feliciano's mouth could only be monotonous from theirs. No doubt the healer had plenty of original love songs to perform at the ball this evening, but it warmed Eirik's heart to see him choose songs that might save some lives here, if his audience could remember them.

Lord Bonnefoy wasn't here to charm anyone, either. His enmity with Lord Kirkland, Sorcerer of the Court, was no secret. And since Lord Kirkland had some say in the list of invitees, not once had Lord Bonnefoy been permitted to attend. As an act of rebellion, the man chose to make a nuisance of himself every year. This year, he had chosen a bend in the road to sing a variety of humorous songs with lyrics so filthy, they made Eirik's stomach churn. Mathias, however, ever the Queen's man, laughed out loud as they walked past, winking at the troublemaker as he tossed him a few coins instead of telling him to stop. Needless to say, Lord Kirkland wasn't particularly popular with the guards.

There was no sign of the stars the ball yet. Then again, perhaps they were saving their voices for later. Eduard Tamm and Lady Katyusha were the only musicians with the privilege of receiving an invite without ever having had to perform in the streets. Their pieces were far more musically complex than what was sung to the people, telling abstract tales only the highly educated could hope to understand. Eirik had been lucky enough to listen to Lady Katyusha sing only once, back in the days when his parents had hoped he would wed her younger sister, and never had a composition given him such shivers. Those attending the ball were fortunate indeed.

The couple emerged onto the Great Square, where the crowd finally thinned. The market place had been rearranged to allow for dancing, with a large stage now home to what appeared to be a rotation of bands taking up a quarter of the space. Those who weren't dancing were perched on nearby benches, pints of ale in hand as they cheered the dancers on. Currently, an upbeat jingle had people skipping as they tried to follow the steps of one of the trickier regional dances.

Mathias spun on his heel, facing his husband with a grin. "Fancy a dance, love of my life?"

Eirik rolled his eyes. The overly dramatic nickname had originally been used to mock the dull romance novels he had been forced to study as a teenager; somewhere along the way, it had become a genuine term of endearment. Still, as embarrassing as it may be, Eirik found his husband's ability to say such sappy things with a straight face charming.

"Only if you drop that ridiculous nickname." He swept his gaze across the dance floor. "And I'm leading. You can trample my feet all you like in private, but let's at least look like we know what we're doing in public."

"But I'm taller than you," Mathias had the nerve to pout.

Eirik sighed. "Darling, you're an inch taller than me."

"Two inches."

"Would you like a dance or not?"

Mathias did want a dance. In fact, Mathias wanted multiple dances. During the upbeat tunes, he let Eirik lead without further protest, not even when his husband spun him around before passing him on with noticeable glee to some poor fellow who he positively towered over. He got his own way during the more gentle melodies, however. There weren't that many ways to mess up slowly swaying in circles, after all.

They weren't an openly romantic couple. Held hands and the odd chaste kiss were as far as their public displays of affection went. That didn't stop Mathias from holding Eirik close, his breath tickling the healer's neck as they swayed to the melody.

They only stopped when the sun had traversed the sky far enough for it to be considered mid afternoon. Although Eirik wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with Mathias, he had responsibilities to attend to. Thus, he suggested they find a water fountain instead of stopping at one of the drink stalls that popped up during every festival. Mathias might still have time to sleep the alcohol off, but Eirik needed to be perfectly sober for the work he did.

"Mind if I walk you home?"

"Only if you promise not to dawdle."

"When have I ever dawdled?"

Hand in hand, they headed back to the clinic, this time letting the diverse music wash over them in a disjointed symphony. Eirik couldn't help but smile. This was nice. He almost felt like a teenager being walked home by his boyfriend at the end a date, even if it was the middle of the day and not late at night. Funny, only experiencing these things now they had been married for five years and together for fourteen. Had he been a more emotional man, he may have mourned those lost years. But as things stood, he was simply glad he could experience them now.

"What are you smiling about?"

Eirik didn't bother with an answer. The tender way he squeezed Mathias' hand and rubbed the ring around his finger said more than enough.

#hetalia #dennor week 2022 #hws norway #hws denmark #aph norway #aph denmark #dennor #my writing #I'm really running behind schedule so I'm probably going to be a bit late with my other entries #so sorry about that

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emeto-secret-agent · 2 years

Text

Sicktember Day 12

Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness

Fandom: -

Characters: Florian and Celia

Illness: Fever

Warning: -

Sickfic with minor plot and Florian simping

’Your Highness, the guests are arriving in half an hour.’

‘Yes, thank you, I will immediately get ready.’

‘Your Highness, these papers are still waiting for your approval.’

‘I’ll do them tomorrow.’

‘I’m sorry Your Highness, but it’s the Earl of Snowdon. He is insisting on an immediate answer…’

‘Oh, that little… I mean, alright then, I’ll look at them after the betrothal and send a letter to the earl first thing tomorrow.’

‘Thank you, Your Highness.’

‘Your Highness!’

Sigh…

‘Yes?’

‘You have to come to change otherwise you’ll be late for the guest's arrival.’

‘Yes, yes a minute.’

‘Now Your Highness.’

‘I said a minute.’

The room went silent. The crown prince haven’t raised his voice but even his tone made everyone take a step back and gave a little room for him. And God knows he needed that. His head was hurting since he woke up and the airless, hot room made it even worse. There were so many people around him, everyone talking and yelling and the ceremony haven’t even started yet but Florian already wanted to go back to sleep. The last week’s stress must have caught up to him because he felt weaker and more irritated with everything than it’d be reasonable. But in the meantime, everything had to be perfect since it was his little sister’s betrothal. He needed to make it perfect.

‘Everyone go and do your job with responsibility, we can’t have any loose threads by the time our guests and my sister, the princess arrive. I will negotiate everything after the ceremony, I promise, but now don’t have much time left. You may only bother me with the most crucial problems, regarding the betrothal. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’

‘Good. Now I am going back to my chamber and get ready for the ceremony. You may leave.’

A row of heads bowed in front of him and disappeared, only leaving him and his escort to go back to his part of the castle. He only had little time left so he was rushing back to his room, but even this little journey took a lot of energy out of him. Twenty-three years and he was already too tired for this. How father manages to deal with all this for so many years, he’ll never understand.

The maids were already waiting for him in his room, every jewel and expensive fabric laid out and waiting for the prince. Florian was lucky that all of his servants were experienced, fast-working people and so he was ready in under twenty minutes, having still enough time to go to the throne room and take his place on the side of his father. He felt so fortunate that the king hasn’t entrusted him with the task of giving a speech to the other kingdom’s prince and his sister’s future husband. Arranging everything else was stressful enough as it is.

‘Alright then, let’s head out and get ready to greet our guests.’

Florian was really trying to pour some strength into himself and putting on his most elegant look. Everything has to be perfect for his sister. He has to be perfect for his sister. A strange feeling of sadness rushed through his chest and made his throat itch at the thought of the princess marrying out to this foreign prince. He was always the closest to his sister and imagining her leave just like that… But it was no matter, they both had duties to fulfill. His to be the next king and hers to marry this man and hopefully become a queen.

The prince was getting lost in his thoughts as he walked out the door, the heavy cape and ornamental sword pulling his body down, closer to the ground with every step, but he still managed to catch Celia’s eyes. His maid looked somehow concerned but they had no chance to speak a few words and Florian suddenly started to regret not having a little private time with her. He should’ve asked her for some pain relievers, his head started to hurt really bad…

Florian and his escort made it to the throne room just in time to get onto their place before the king walked in too. His Majesty was still as refined and dignified as always, his mere presence bringing respect to the room. Oh, Florian how wished to be a king like him someday. His father smiled at the prince as he took his seat on the throne and Florian returned the gesture before focusing his attention on the incoming guest who were led by his soon-to-be brother-in-law. Just let everything go smoothly and perfectly…

And everything did went greatly. Even Florian was surprised a little by this fact, but seeing the happy smile on his sister’s face, made every stressful moment worth it. The ceremony went without a problem, both of the kings and the newly engaged youngsters were satisfied with the arrangements, and the after-ball brought even more joy to everyone. The royal kitchen really acquitted itself well, if Florian had a little bit bigger appetite, he was sure he’d have his life’s best feast. It really was a shame he wasn’t hungry, only so very tired. And he still had to answer that spawn of hell earl…

‘My brother, are you feeling quite alright?’

‘Oh?’ Florian hasn’t even noticed how lost he got in his thoughts again. He should focus more, especially when it was his turn to dance with his sister. He should enjoy every minute he could before they can never do this again. If only his head wouldn’t hurt this much and he wouldn’t feel like a butchered chicken in the oven. ‘Yes, of course. But what makes you ask that?’

‘You looked a little pale all day and well… tired.’

‘Well thank you, my dear sister, I was only trying not to take the attention off your beauty.’

His sister laughed together with Florian, but some of the concerns still haven’t disappeared from her eyes. No, she shouldn’t worry, she should be happy today.

‘Very funny brother. But are you quite sure? You know, you can tell me.’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’ he wasn’t actually that sure now. ‘I just had a lot of things to do and I’m a bit tired. But that’s all. And you needn’t worry about me, you should enjoy your night. All of the kingdom is happy for you and celebrating you, just like me.’

‘Thank you… But... promise me this won’t be the end of it?’

Suddenly Florian was fighting back tears. He knew what his little sister meant and he felt everything crash right back at him, every worrying thought overflowing his already worn out nerves.

‘This won’t be it. You’re my little sister, no matter what happens to us, okay? Never forget this.’

‘You promise it? You promise me, Florian?’

‘I do. I do promise it. I’ll be always your big brother and you can always come to me. I’ll never let anything hurt you, no matter what happens.’

‘Thank you... I’ll miss you so much.’

‘You’re not going anywhere yet silly.’ Florian softly laughed to ease the look of sorrow in the eyes of his sister. ‘You’re right here for now and you’re not even married yet. We’ll have this conversion when you’re a queen, alright? But for now, you’re just a little princess~’

‘I’m not even little! I’m a grown princess and I’ll be a great queen, you’ll see it.’

‘Then don’t disappoint me.’ chuckled the prince as the music stopped and he could already see her fiancé coming to ask her down for the next dance. ‘Now go, and I don’t want to see you sad! Be happy, this is your night.’

He let the prince take his sister’s hand with a smile and quietly watched them start the new dance. She’s going to be in good hands…

But was he actually that pale that his sister noticed? That didn’t sound too good. Actually, he didn’t feel too good either… Shit, he couldn’t be coming down with something right now, did he? He wanted to say that he was just exhausted, nothing a good sleep wouldn’t fix but the former hot flashes disappeared and only left bone crushing cold behind from which even his cape couldn’t protect him. This was a way too familiar sign of a raising fever. And that would explain why his head was aching since morning and why he felt like he was going to pass out the next second.

By all means, Florian wasn’t even that surprised he was running a fever. It was probably the most stressful he has been in the past years and it must have taken a roll on his health too. Could it be that Celia noticed too the signs of a starting fever and that is why she was looking at him like that? The prince really wished the maid could be here and ease the uncomfortable feeling in his head with just the touch of her palm like she always did. But it was an impossible request so Florian just stayed still on the side of the room and tried his best to make small talk with everyone who approached him and not pass out on the cold tiles of the ballroom.

He was so lucky that not after that his father decided to retire for the night and let the celebrating army of guests enjoy themselves alone. And this was the perfect reason for the prince too to go back to his room and rest down before the world became a weird mush of funny, vibrating colors. His legs were so hard to get to work, but he managed to leave the room with his father so he couldn’t be considered impolite for leaving earlier the event than he actually should have. He wished he could just stay there, have fun, drink, dance, and have interesting chats with interesting people, but his mind was occupied with the constant pain in his body and the longing after his quiet room and Celia.

…and Celia?

‘Already tired of the celebration? I guess you’re getting old too.’

And he wasn’t listening again. He needs to get himself together. Even if for that ten minutes until he reaches his chamber. So Florian just laughed at his father’s teasing and tried to brush it off, even though he knew the older man saw right through him.

‘I guess something like that, I’m not handling my wine quite as well as I did a few years ago.’

Florian hasn’t even drank almost anything tonight, but that wasn’t important right now.

‘Is that so? Then it’s better if you rest down for now.’

‘Yes, I shall do that.’

‘And well, since you had quite the amount, feel free to take it easy tomorrow. I won’t be expecting you at the meetings.’

It was like a huge rock fell off the prince’s chest and he couldn’t be more thankful for his father’s clear vision. That earl wasn’t getting his papers until the next week that is for sure.

‘Thank you, father.’

‘Yes, yes. Now go, rest well.’

‘Good night Your Majesty.’

And with a smile, the king disappeared in his wing of the castle to retire for the night and Florian did the same. Only if with a little bit more difficulty, as he was trying to make out the steps right in front of his feet, but his blurry vision wasn’t helpful. He managed to stay composed so far, he could avoid passing out in front of his guards now. He can do it.

A row of maids was waiting for him at his door, ready to help him undress, refresh before bed and make everything for him, but the prince was only searching for the familiar brown eyes. Florian let out a relieved sigh as he noticed her concerned face, as she was looking at him, watching his every step. Celia understood him without even words.

‘You come with me, the others may leave for today.’

Every maid and his guards bow at his command before leaving the prince and Celia alone. There were already whispers, but nothing the maid couldn’t handle tomorrow. As the doors closed, Florian let out a grunt, and Celia was already at his side, strongly holding his arm to help him stay upright.

‘I feel like I’m going to pass out. I’m so dizzy…’

‘Come with me, Your Highness.’

The maid guided the prince to his bed, having to hold half of his weight as Florian was now only stumbling on his feet, but Celia was already familiar with this. The moment Florian was in a laying position on his bed, Celia began to peel off the layers of thick clothing. Well, these were certainly no good for the prince’s fever, nor for his strength. It was almost like a heavy armor and even Celia struggled a little with them.

‘What hurts?’

‘Mostly my head…’ Florian’s eyes were still closed since it helped with the dizziness a little but a small smile appeared on his lips as Celia laid her fingers on his forehead. Ah yes, this was what he was waiting for…

‘You’re running a pretty high fever… Did you drink Your Highness?’

‘Only a few sips, almost nothing…’

‘Alright then, please stay here and rest, I’m going to bring you some medicine. I’ll be back in a second.’

‘Right…’

Celia’s voice was still echoing in his ears as Florian laid back in his pillows.

Yes, they’re both in good hands now…

#sicktember 2022 #my oc #prince florian #celia

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dkniade · 2 years

Text

How To World Domination [English Translyrics]

Original Japanese lyrics: Neru [original upload]

English translyrics: Dusk

Referenced translation: Oktavia [here]

Content Warning: violent imagery, suicidal thoughts, depression, swearing

See the end of post for notes

1st Verse

Who’s the one who’s crouching low, too scared to let your sorrows flow?

Strike as hard as you were laughed at — Twice or tenfold

Just you wait. It will be me who will seize our victory

Without arms, let’s hand in hand march on, and let me lead

Should the years spin out of grasp and should the heavens get upturned

Promise me you’ll let go of the price tag you have learned

“Again a poor draft… Should this one be my last?”

Please don’t give up. Don’t throw your life in the trash

1st Pre-Chorus

Shivering at station’s stop once again

Thinking “Should I just make it end?”

I’m at a loss, ‘cause tomorrow I must play the boss

Of my future self without a fail. I cannot tell if I will prevail

1st Chorus

Let the years go by, and cars will fly and that’s how we’d get home

And survive the nights and talk to screens for comfort and to cope

So what? Convenience and ease? Well then, come and convince me

Don’t you know my heart’s still bleeding, voice behind the phone?!

If a missile flies across the sky, and victory’s secured

Then I’d join my hands and pray for joy and beg that I’d be heard

Then I’d know that I must be kind, more kind

Can I say I’ve come to terms with who I am?

2nd Verse

“Why don’t you look for the light within the gift that is your life?”

But the darkness takes and never gives back delights

Be it when I’m by myself or I’m with somebody else

Loneliness will strike back. I’m attacked. Requesting help!

Bridge

“Wanna kill myself.” But they don’t believe me

“Quit your whining! So depressing…” From their words, I bleed

“Such a drama queen.” But I swear that I’m not lying!

I cannot find words in a mind so ill-defined

Thus I will sing of things only I see!

2nd Pre-Chorus

Shimmering, heading into the dark arcade

Thinking “Should I just waste life away?”

Yet at a cost, ‘cause tomorrow might not live at all

If I die today. The last refrain beneath the train has so much to say…

2nd Chorus

“Keep your fucking love. I’m fine unloved,” I say, yet deep inside

I know I’m ashamed and I’m to blame. To myself I have lied

Has something changed, my dear heart? Still wanna die and depart?

God, I hate that you don’t try. You know there’s help tonight!

If a missile flies across the sky, and victory’s secured

If the ashes of a million fly, and that is called a cure

Then I’d know that I must be kind, more kind

Can I say I’ve come to terms with

Who I am? I must change. Be kind, more kind

Before my heart hardens and turns into stone

———

“Can I say I’ve come to terms with who I am?”

I wrote translyrics for this first back in 2017, and then rewrote it in 2021. Now, I’m taking a shot at this yet again in 2022, because I remember seeing Oktavia’s interpretation and translation of its lyrics and thinking that it captured the vibe of the song very well. I feel that I’ve understood the song some more. This time, I’ve put in some of my own interpretations, so the lyrics are even more emotional than my previous versions while hopefully still retaining the original themes from Neru’s Japanese lyrics. Taking inspiration from the assonance, consonance, and end rhymes in Oktavia’s English lyrics, particularly her lyrics for “Melancholy of the Literary Boy” (warning: discusses depression), I’ve put more focus on the rhythm and flow of these lyrics as well.

This song talks about a pretty heavy topic, but because of the honesty of it, along with the line “I want to become a kind person” in spite of everything else discussed, it remains as one of my favourite songs by Neru.

Oh yeah, I wanted to talk about my thought process a bit.

In the first verse, “Should the years spin out of grasp and should the heavens get upturned” is foreshadowing the chorus’ lines “Let the years go by, and cars will fly and that’s how we’d get home” and “If a missile flies across the sky, and victory’s secured”. Oktavia’s translation says, “Let’s make a ‘no matter what crazy stuff happens after this’ sort of promise,” so I took the chance to expand on that line and link it to the chorus.

By the way, I really wanted to employ a bunch of rhythms in succession for the last lines of the pre-choruses (and bridge) since the melody cuts it up into sections, so I really liked those lines too. “Of my future self without a fail. I cannot tell if I will prevail”, “I cannot find words in a mind so ill-defined” and “If I die today. The last refrain beneath the train has so much to say…” sound nice when sung quickly.

In the chorus, there’s a line where Oktavia translated to “Honestly, so what? Before you marvel at how convenient all that’s gonna be, / convenience me and heal my emotional scars!” I’ve always loved the original line and Oktavia’s translation brings across the meaning very well, so I pushed it further by writing “So what? Convenience and ease? Well then, come and convince me / Don’t you know my heart’s still bleeding, voice behind the phone?!”. This is just a bit I added into the middle of the choruses, but the idea is that the narrators Tsuji and Azuma (the characters in the MV) are using a suicide hotline at night, hence that line and the second chorus’ “God, I hate that you don’t try. You know there’s help tonight!”

The entire bridge was the first time I’ve realized just how dark this song is. Prior to Oktavia’s translation, I’ve never quite understood the bridge, but her translation brought out the meaning much better, especially for the line “but it was like a dagger to my heart when people said stuff like ‘Seriously? This again?’ towards it”. Thus I ran with the idea of other people’s cruel opinions towards depressed individuals and wrote, “‘Quit your whining! So depressing…’ From their words, I bleed / ‘Such a drama queen.’ But I swear that I’m not lying!”

The starting line of the second chorus took many tries because Oktavia expresses the meaning very well in her translation, however it was a challenge to fit the message through the limited syllable counts along with the internal rhymes. Her translation is “Even if I say ‘To hell with love,’ embracing my misery and feigning a ‘I’ve stopped giving a shit’ sort of air”. Thus, I tried “‘You can’t save me with some love you’ve got,’ I say, yet deep inside” and “‘I’m unsavable, so keep your love,’ I say, yet deep inside”. The problem was that with the fast tempo of the song, the first line might sound like “You CAN save me with some love you’ve got” which defeats the whole purpose of the line. The line that I ended up using came to me during an improvisation and I rushed to scribble it down. “‘Keep your fucking love. I’m fine unloved,’ I say, yet deep inside”. I try to not swear in translyrics when the original doesn’t swear, but the original does swear (in a different part). With the melody of this line, the emphasized note would hit “fine” which emphasizes the sentiment behind the line well…

And lastly, I really wanted to keep the repetition and assonance in the original line (in romaji), “Yasashii hito ni naranakucha / Boku wa boku wo kouteishiteikeru kana”, so that line took some tries. Oktavia’s translation was “Then I guess I really need to become a kind person. I wonder if I’ll ever be proud of who I am…” An early version was “I would have to be kind. I know I must / Can I, would I say I’m proud of who I am?” But in the end, I wrote “Then I’d know that I must be kind, more kind / Can I say I’ve come to terms with who I am?” which has the repetition I wanted so I’m really happy how it turned out.

I believe that’s all. Thank you for reading!

#dusk lyrics #neru #english translyrics #rin kagamine #len kagamine #how to world domination #english lyrics #oktavia #neruke #how to sekai seifuku #ボカロ #鏡音リン #鏡音レン #Kagamine Len #Kagamine rin #Neru家 #translyrics #vocaloid len #vocaloid rin

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togamzee · 2 months

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If there was ever an easier road to drive down, Tohru missed the exit. In the entirety of his childhood, school years; and most recently, into college–he fought for his placements. Rightful placements in an Ivy League that came at a near insurmountable cost. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t applied for scholarships. Multiple scholarships, even. He’d always been beat out by a classmate with a more connected name. In spite of his academic prowess, Tohru would never be selected over a peer with a family in the field, or the college, or among the renowned alumni. Not that it stopped him from attending, ultimately–he’d simply do so in a mountain of debt. He could handle that, someday. Never mind that it doubled quickly; with his mother falling ill to their tragically genetic memory disorders. He’d foot the cost of assisted living she couldn’t. If he had one mountain already, what was the harm in adding another? He would graduate amongst the top ranks regardless. It was frustrating, however, watching career opportunities he knew he’d be better suited to get promised, or outright handed to the chosen ones. He should have seen it coming; landing a spot in research was downright impossible fresh off the stage. His professors were realistic with him about it.

He accepted that he’d be applying to analytical, entry level jobs. Work from the ground up. So be it. The mountains weren’t going anywhere. Openings in the city’s Katsuragi hospital didn’t sound so bad, for one reason or another…so he hadn’t applied for any others yet. He would after the graduation ceremony, he reasoned.

Sprawled over the couch in his one bedroom apartment, his heart jerked when his phone rang, several days later. He flung himself upright, scrambling to answer. It was looking like he’d get a job, right away, even–he could start to chip at the mountains. He tried to swallow the excitement, and the relief.

“Hello?” Nice. Masked it.

“Otonashi Tohru?”

“Speaking.”

“Hello, Otonashi. My name is Inoue Hana. Your application has been reviewed by myself and our board of research, and we would like to bring you in for a formal interview. Tomorrow at noon, if you can. I understand if the timing is too sudden.”

Board of research? “I’d be honored. Which building? I’m assuming there’s an office on the Katsuragi ground–”

“We’ll be picking you up, actually. Is the address you have on file correct?”

Tohru didn’t let himself hesitate for more than a beat. “Yes, it is.” That should have been more odd to him, he knew, and yet…as a soon-to-graduate student, he didn’t have the luxury of personal transportation.

“Wonderful. We’ll be seeing you.”

“Thank you.”

Sleep did not come easy that night.

Nothing caffeine couldn’t fix. He drank his coffee quickly, nerves and need causing him to cling to the mug. He’d been ready for well over an hour, anxiously waiting. Not that he was any less anxious while he was dressing. All black was totally normal for an interview. But what if that was off putting? He pulled his hair back in a bun, praying they wouldn’t find it unprofessional. And if his hair was up, his face would look brighter–that could offset the black, hopefully. Hopefully, he was just overthinking his appearance.

The driver didn’t do much to calm his nerves. At last, when noon rolled around, Tohru punctually got into the back of his equally punctual ride. From the driver's seat, the man told him his name, after confirming Tohru’s. Then, he let silence fall, to which Tohru knew no better cure than to idly crush candies on his phone.

For at least 20 minutes or so, anyway. He’d noticed the driver didn’t seem to be going towards the hospital awhile ago, though he paid that no mind. It wouldn’t surprise him if they conducted their interviews off campus, somewhere in some office park, or…something.

Until he looked up and out the window, Tohru was content in that thought. The sight of them leaving the city altogether alarmed him. He tried to make that subtle.

“Is…the interview…somewhere outside of t–”

“It’ll be about an hour and a half drive. It’s a research center.”

A research center? He didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, it was just…odd.

It never got less odd throughout the drive. Tohru knew he’d never been this far into more rural towns, yet some turns felt familiar. The driver got off the highway and parked in the first town along their route, at a coffee shop that could have stopped his heart. Tohru couldn’t find the desire to get out, so he simply waited, and shoved away the deja vu that threatened to send him down a rabbit hole. He made a mental note that if he did get this job–he was absolutely not stopping here. No way.

Not that the town he would have to stop in was leagues better. If it could even be called a town. It felt more like what he’d imagined a village to be–though it felt slightly too large to be just one. A string of villages, maybe? Loosely connected around a small scale church, to be loomed over by an out of place looking facility Tohru found himself standing in front of the doors of. A guard met him at the entrance. Tohru stated his name and business, earning him passage into the foyer. Heels clamored down the hall, and he was greeted by the same cooing voice that he’d heard on the phone.

“Otonashi Tohru! Good afternoon. How was the drive in?”

“I…truthfully, was not expecting a drive. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Tohru bowed at the waist, to which Inoue laughed, casually waving and gesturing down the hallway she appeared from. “No need for that, dear. If you’ll follow me.”

So he did.

Remarkably, the interview seemed to be…the least odd piece in his situation. Tohru felt confident in it, though he couldn’t help the way his eyes traced Inoue’s office every so often for some trace of Katsuragi signage.

“Do you have any questions for me, before I go on?”

Blinking, Tohru settled his gaze on her. She didn’t shy from eye contact, holding it steady in her dominant authority while she clasped her fingers together on the desk.

“Yes, I…do believe I initially applied for an analyst position, in the Katsuragi lab…”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you? I’m so sorry, Otonashi! We are an independent research facility. We do not list positions publicly, as we are privately funded and require a more selective process to determine candidates eligible for this specific job.”

“How did you get my application, then..?”

“We monitor all biochemistry positions in the surrounding areas, and highlight applicants who fit our criteria.”

His lips pursed. Unintentionally, of course. Her lack of straightforward answers–it couldn’t solely be due to corporate pleasantries. He was out here in the sticks, over an hour from his city and his college; and most importantly, anything Katsuragi related. He felt he had a right to want specifics–

“I can tell you’re unsatisfied with that. The truth is, Otonashi, we are offering you a position of researcher here unlike anywhere else. The salary matches the expected workload and contracted amount of time. And in addition to your pay, the conglomerate will absolve any outstanding debt you may have accrued during your time at university.”

A burning question wouldn’t go away. For all his pride in his abilities, sure, he wanted to understand and accept, yet he still couldn’t help but vocalize, “Why?”

Inoue smiled. It didn’t meet her eyes. “Whether you believe it or not, your surname came about in this project, some centuries ago. My employers were intrigued.”

His name? Otonashi? That name had never gotten him anything, so this…

“Surely that’s a coincidence.”

“It could very well be. Nonetheless, you do meet all our other requirements. We’ve looked over your transcript, history, your papers, thesis…it’s wonderful work, Otonashi. I won’t lie to you, though, this position is demanding. Again, the salary reflects the expectation.”

Inoue Hana pulled open a drawer, momentarily thumbing to find and present him with what looked like a contract. His lips parted, eyes widening slightly when the number finally stared back up at him. Fuck. That, and the student debt forgiveness? The disappearance of an entire mountain, and enough yearly to eradicate the second…it seemed unbelievable. It had to be unbelievable. Someone was playing an elaborate prank, surely, because there was no way a mysterious conglomerate entity would single him out on a highly likely coincidental connection in name. He wanted to jerk his knee and say yes. Still, he had to know. He had to get her closer to a better answer.

“What are the other requirements that I specifically meet?”

“You are able to be bought.”

His eyes shot up from the papers he had yet to reach for. Inoue continued.

“What I mean is, you have no other ties to external companies and centers that can interfere with your research for us. This will be your first in-field job, so we are able to settle you in at our standard. We can buy you. Your loyalty. You are unmarried, an only child, your father is deceased, your mother currently resides in memory care…”

Tohru started to hate how her eyes felt on him. He kept his mouth shut while she reached for the contract, sliding it back over to her and flipping a few pages in. “Your dissertation on your work with biochemical reactions in the human body…also played a large role.”

Why didn’t she lead with that? His brow furrowed slightly, tension causing his jaw to clench. And why bring up my personal life? My mom? He couldn’t call it blackmail, even if something in the way Inoue spoke put the idea in his head.

“Believe me, Otonashi, I would love to be straightforward about the research. I’m sure you’re aware, with something privately funded, unpatented, in its development phase…”

“I understand.” Wouldn’t want secrets spilling or ideas stolen by an interviewee.

“It’s a 60 hour work week. You may divide the hours how you like, though the 12 hours, five days works perfectly well. You still have a weekend, if that is your choice. Regardless, you must be in the building for 60 hours. You’ll be provided lodging in town, should you choose to accept it. Previous researchers have, in lieu of the commute. Entirely optional.”

Given the salary…he could deal with that. Tohru nodded to himself. “And…the contract’s duration is..?”

“This outlines the first year. Once you’re in the role and working, we will determine the timespan needed from there.”

Tohru opened his mouth, only to be cut off by another follow up from Inoue.

“And–Otonashi, this offer is only good in this room, right now. If you ask for time to think, unfortunately, we will have to remove you from consideration. My employer is very insistent on finding a candidate who is the type to act on opportunity, not think.”

Fuck. She must have sensed his hesitance.

What had she been wrong about, though? As insulting as it was, truth be told…in this instance, he could be bought. He hadn’t begun to think of a life beyond the debt mountains yet. With this, he could…even at 60 hours for a year (or more), he could explore options. This financial footing would make a significant difference in his future. He wouldn’t have to start from the bottom as he always had before; as this had every bit of potential to be the easy exit he always seemed to miss.

He took the contract in his hands, letting his eyes graze over the words thoroughly this time. While he was already teetering on accepting, the conglomerate name listed as the parent company solidified the act of him picking up the pen and signing his name. Wakajima. It was as though his hand acted on its own upon reading it, and in a brief flash he felt as completely connected to this project as he needed to be. Whatever it was, somehow–he felt in his core–he had a right to it. That Inoue Hana and her employers didn’t make a mistake–they chose the right person. Otonashi Tohru was the right choice.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when Inoue took him on his first (and only) tour of the facility, that he felt the weight of it.

The facility consisted of four stories. On the first–the offices. Pristine, if not slightly stuffy, in that doctor’s office waiting room sort of way. The IT had offices somewhere in the maze of cubicles, she informed him, should he ever run into technical trouble. Nothing out of the ordinary, he reasoned.

Inoue stood too close to him in the elevator. It made his jaw clench.

On the second floor, she turned to face him, after sliding her ID card in order to let the door open. “I am showing you this floor briefly, as your card will not grant you access to floors aside from the research level. This is more of a formality so you’re comfortable here, alright? This center is multifaceted.”

He glanced around, not finding much but a long hallway. He could make out some lights a ways down, and she nodded her head in the direction of them for him to follow. He stayed a few steps behind, pushing down the odd dread in his stomach.

“On this level, our facility serves as a youth rehabilitation center. For delinquents, really. They are manipulative, rebellious children, whose parents often have a bottomless wallet to pour into their reformation. We establish order and direction in their lives.”

Tohru blinked, taking the cue to stop when his boss did and look through the window into a brightly lit cafeteria area. It couldn’t have been more than…10, 15 children, he could see, all orderly in their eating and appearance. He thought it was odd most of them had white hair. Inoue turned, gesturing back towards the elevator down the hall. His brow furrowed when he faced away from her, seeds of dread beginning to take root. She must have sensed that, though.

“It’s akin to a boarding school, Otonashi. You deserve to know what the floors are. That is all the thought you have to give it, dear.”

He wished she wouldn’t call him dear.

“Understood.”

The third floor unnerved him in a different way. Immediately, all he could hear was typing, and the low hum of computers. His eyebrow raised, turning to Inoue, who chuckled. “Not the IT department, I promise. This is a network and information security division outsourced to this facility.

His glimpse of the monitors told him it was very likely going to be used to watch him, too. The elevator door closed again, bringing them up to the fourth floor–the only one his access card worked for, aside from the main. He followed Inoue in, taking note of the equipment and labs, storage areas, odds and ends…and a large observation room, with a desk and microphone on the other side. Too large of an observatory for anything but humans. He held the question on his tongue.

She showed him another hall, and down it came a bedroom–though that was probably being gracious. It was more similar to a prison cell, with an exposed shower and toilet and a two way mirror surely meant for observation. The sickness in his stomach rose.

“I’m sure you’re coming to understand your research will be conducted on human subjects. They will require extensive observation, and you will be accompanied around the clock by a guard. You won’t be allotted any research assistants, but you’ll at least have Housuke, should you need someone to spout ideas at, or if you need him to get in contact with me about something you need on the spot. You research types can be demanding in the zone, as it were.”

She smiled, laughing quietly, as if charmed by herself and her humor for the situation, as if that would ease any of the questions swirling around in his mind. He couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Can you please explain the nature of this research to me? Please? I’m not opposed to willing human subjects, but given the room–” Gesturing to the luxury prison cell, Inoue’s smile left her eyes. She stared blankly for a moment, before turning on her heel and bringing them back through the halls to one of the labs. She threw open one of the filing cabinets without a word, tossing a docket his direction. His eyes skimmed the summary, breath catching in his throat while Inoue opened a safe and began arranging small, labeled glass vials on a lab table.

For the test and implementation of suggested and total obedience effects in individuals

“Obedience?” He balked, eyes skimming faster and faster.

Assumes control and autonomy to a handler, willing to perform tasks they would be unwilling otherwise

“Think of it like this, Otonashi.” His head swirled in her direction, and he felt that he’d already heard words like this, once upon a time. “If you have a good soldier, but you want him to be great…someone who is no longer feeling fear, is no longer restricted by their inhibitions, willing to respond and carry out commands without question. That is the perfect soldier. But, I know–you are thinking it’s unethical to drug someone up that way. I understand. I assure you, this is performed only on willing candidates, who are signing plenty of waivers in even the most extreme circumstance.”

Stunned. He was stunned. Inoue continued, fingertips grasping at a vial and giving the pale liquid inside of it a stir.

“The most extreme circumstance.”

“Read over the works and notes of the small number who have come before you, Otonashi. There’s only three, so it shouldn’t take you long. Once you feel ready, we will allow you to conduct your first trial, to establish your baseline and see where you need to go from there.”

So he did. He spent his first three weeks on the job pouring over the notes, and vomiting. It couldn’t be real. How had this facility, privately owned and funded or not, continued to conduct experiments that lead to the deaths of 7 individuals? 7 so far, he reminded himself over and over. And the town (still, more of a weirdly connected series of villages) knew it. They had to know it. He could feel it in their stares when he visited the shops and yatai stalls. Tohru knew his appearance didn’t help, either, in lessening the quiet fear that enveloped their moods wherever he showed his face in public.

Tohru decided he wouldn’t ever be ready. And in that case, he came to Inoue in her office with the truth. She sat cooly before him behind her desk. He chose not to sit.

“These experiments will make me a murderer.”

“If you’ve read properly, their lives are most often taken by Housuke. In this moral hangup you’ve created, you are blameless.”

“I am not blameless!” Tohru exclaimed, taking a step closer to the desk. “They were not blameless, either, They lamented about it in their notes many times, Inoue, and–”

“And where are they now?” Inoue asked him, unphased by the loud gesture.

He paused, blinking, slowly shaking his head at the implication. “They–”

“They are dead, Otonashi Tohru. The terms of your contract are this: you finalize this serum, or you quit and the Wakajima conglomerate has you killed. The NDAs you signed would not be enough to stop that, I promise you. Have faith in yourself. And I suggest you stop seeing your subjects as people, rather as vessels for the enhancement in human science. They are complacent in the study. They will tell you as much to your face, dear.”

So he asked Patient #1, to her face. Many times. She nodded up at him with amber eyes, again confirming Inoue’s words, letting him stick her with the first dosage of Voziene after a week of temperament observation. And when it came time for the Paramide, she had already begun losing pieces of her mind, unable to answer the same questions she had earlier.

She had panicked and screamed quickly after the Paramide, unable to get to the point of command, only flying into a frenzied rage where she clawed and hit at him repeatedly as he tried desperately to calm her. He had her arms in his grasp, sympathetic tears pooling in his eyes while the girl suffered and thrashed. Housuke then grabbed her hair, and without a second to think or breathe, the guard put a bullet through her brain and let her fall unceremoniously to the ground. Tohru couldn’t move. Covered in her blood, he stared, rising panic in his throat. She was dead, and when he looked at his hands, he couldn’t help but know he wouldn’t see them without this coating of blood again.

“Well, Tohru?”

From the other side of the sterile white room, Inoue activated the microphone, her cooing voice filling the ringing silence left in the wake of the shot.

“Are you going to fix this serum? Or are you going to end up like that?”

Swallowing the lump, he felt the fire of indignation take its place. “I will fix this.”

For two years, he worked endlessly to fix it. He was closer. It wasn’t perfect, but it would be. Someday. Or he’d die.

In between Patient #14 and Patient #15, Otonashi Tohru experienced a change even greater than the addition of his precious rescued cat Suki to his home life. Meeting Murakami Eko tore some sort of blindfold away from his eyes, and for the first time in years, he felt an odd personal pull towards…her. It was her, specifically. He felt that much. The nights he’d spent buried in her or listening to her play felt like a cool touch, a solace that he hadn’t realized how desperately he was in need of.

He couldn’t help the gut wrenching panic that crept into his veins as he conducted his first observation on Patient #15. Chihara Rika. She struck him as too young, and worst of all, ginger. Not quite Murakami’s shade. But…ginger.

Ginger enough to make him wonder if there was some sort of correlation. Asking would result in incrimination. While he was (theoretically) allowed to do as he pleased in his free time…he understood an underlying threat could manifest like this. He’d seen plenty of them in his two years. He took the job with an underlying threat staring him straight in the face, after all. The message was clear to him: there would be punishment for breaking his non disclosure, should he find himself close with someone.

Unmarried. Dead dad. Mom doesn’t know you.

Requirements that he’d gotten the job with. But it wasn’t like he was marrying the nepo baby. Still, he couldn’t help but think of her while he watched Rika, ultimately hoping it was a matter of coincidence; although it would keep him away from the jazz bar for a night or two…just in case.

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