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chocum · 4 months ago
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KARMA !
— brat taming the jjk men feat. choso kamo, kento nanami, toji fushiguro.
WARNINGS. femdom!reader, f!reader (she/her), brat taming, cock slaps, crying, handjob, choking, p in v, riding, overstim, lingerie, lollll slotted toji out :33, recording, finger sucking. ( 2k ) note. hellloooooo hope u all enjoy this. i had fun writing bc i loveee the idea of making big strong men crumble mhmhmhm. anywaysss reblogs are appreciated thank youuu love u all. repost bc last night it didn’t show in the tags 💔 but i edited it and added alottt so if you already saw it feel free to read again !! ty
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 CHOSO KAMO
“ma— make m— ooohh fuck. wai—wait” his voice trembled so cutely that it was barely coherent, crumbling into a pretty whine that drowns out his pathetic attempt (if you could even call it that) at being a defiant little brat, making you giggle, your slicked up thumbs pushing and rubbing down on the slit of his leaky tip, sending jolts of pain masked as pleasure up his bony spine, “make you?”
immediately he knows he’s fucked up. the air between you growing thick.
he didn’t know what came over him, really. maybe he had been watching too much porn, fantasizing too much, because the idea of getting tamed by you— god, just the thought of getting put in his place, turned him on so much. so, so much.
but having to actually disobey you, he couldn’t. he believes he was only put on this earth to serve you and please you. to be good. his head hurriedly shakes side to side, making each strand of ravened silky hair jump and dance before resting to frame his flushed face, “‘m sorry didn’t me—”
you land a heavy, hard slap to his cock, the sound pounding in his flushed ears blending with the beat of his heart, making his body tense up and jerk underneath you. his breaths come out in ragged little gasps, each one such a struggle as his fuzzy brain short circuits under your warm palms.
it really is cute, you think. cute how easy it is to break him. the pretty tears that drip down his puffed-up, blushed cheeks remind you of that. he’s choking on his sobs when you move to cup his face and kiss the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks. crying and sniffling because he hates when you’re mad. hates disappointing you.
“‘m sorry, i don’t— just wanna be so good for you. i’ll be— wanna be your good boy.”
“i know,” you coo, petting him like the pretty pet he is, “wanna try again for me, hm?”
and oh, he’s nodding so sweetly, cock throbbing for you, his big glassy eyes heart-shaped, staring up. so ready to be yours, ready to be the good boy you’ve trained him to be.
so you tell him again, “fuck my fists, make yourself cum, pretty boy. and look me in my eyes.”
his hips buck up, the salty tears on his cheeks warming and dried as he uses your sticky hands like a fleshlight, whining prettily when you tighten your grip around him, “‘m sorry” he babbles over and over, drooling out the corners of his parted puffy lips.
he’s so good. staring into the blown pupils of your pretty eyes without fault, like you told him to. because you told him to.
and his thighs burn, his legs shaking and trembling against the silky sheets as he gets closer and closer. the pain almost urging him on, “are you gonna cum for me? baby? gonna give it all to me hm?”
“yes, ple— please. please, can i cum can—”
you pull your hands off him.
drawing out the prettiest whine to ever be heard. like a song of the angels. his head falling back against the wooden headboard, hips bucking up in search of something to ease the ache that overwhelms in his tummy. those hot tears making a special reappearance.
“aww baby,” you hum, feigning sympathy, massaging his warm— full, heavy balls, “did you really think you’d get to cum after that, hm? did you?”
his eyes widen in desperation, disappointment. he tries to speak, to plead, to beg, but all that comes out are broken little sobs and whimpers.
the look on his face is almost pitiful. furrowed brows, pout, and his mouth hangs open.
you bend to lean in closer, your breath so warm against the shell of his sensitive ear, “you have to earn it, baby. good boys get rewarded. brats get punished.”
for you, he nods weakly, his voice barely a whisper as he chokes, “i’ll be so good, pro— promise. please, let me cum. let me show you how good i am”
so pretty. your fingers slip down to massage his aching balls, applying just enough pressure to keep him on that edge he loves to dangle over without giving him the sweet, sweet release he craves. “nuh uh, not yet,” you hum softly, your tone both firm but oh so gentle. “show me how much you want it.”
his hips buck up involuntarily, humping the air in search of your grip— relief, eyes locking onto yours, colored irises filled with adoration. he’s completely at your mercy, every nerve and ending in his body on fire, every muscle tensed up in anticipation.
and you can see the struggle in his eyes. it’s really a beautiful sight, and you savor every moment of it. “that’s it,” mumuring, “keep looking at me like that. show me how much you need it.”
his breaths come in short little, ragged gasps, his chest heaving and caving, thighs burning from fucking the air.
but finally, after what feels like an eternity, you decide to grant him some mercy, your hands moving back around his throbbing cock, stroking him just how he likes it, “cum for me, pretty boy,” you command, a soft, seductive purr. “give it all to me.”
with a strangled, gargled cry, he obeys. his body convulsing, every muscle tightening as he finally, finally finds his release, his cum spilling all over your hands in thick, hot, sticky spurts. and he’s so obedient, his eyes remaining locked on yours, even as his vision blurs and fuzes with pleasure.
“there you go,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “such a good boy.”
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 KENTO NANAMI
the tie that usually wrapped snug around the collar of nanami’s shirt adding that signature pop of yellow to his suits now decorates his flushed neck, constricting it, the tail of it clutched tightly in your fists as you ride his cock, your hips rolling and jerking against him relentlessly.
thick cum drips down to his balls, pooling underneath him, a swirl of your mess and his. he’s cum two–no, four? he doesn’t even know how many loads he’s stuffed into your warm cunt— or how many you’ve forced and sucked out of him, his cock so sensitive it fucking hurts, every time you snap back down on him sending poky jolts of overstimulation through his entire body.
“fu—fuck, honey, please. i don’t have— ngh— don’t have anything left to give. fuckin’ drained me already— can’t—”
you tug on the silky fabric, making him choke on his words, gargling on warm, foamy spit. his hands reaching to grab at the curve of your waist, but he’s flinching, remembering how you said, no touching. remembering why he’s in the position in the first place.
because he doesn’t listen.
refused to keep his hands to himself, your body begging to be touched, in his words. as if he didn’t take you seriously, just kept grabbing at you, digging his slim fingers into your plush skin.
so, obviously, there’s some sort of misunderstanding .. some sort of disconnect. he must have forgotten who was in charge.
you don’t even give him a response, ignoring the prickly burn in your thighs to fuck him dumb. maybe then, ironically, he’ll learn how to act. each jerk of your hips move to push him further to the edge, to remind him of his place.
his body is weak, just sitting pretty, twitchy, letting you do as you please, sweetly hiccuping under your frame, “hah— please, my fucking god i— i’m sorry” he’s all gone and sucked up, cock crying, drooling pathetic tears of salty cum in your cruel walls. sweat peppering his forehead, slicking the ridges of his chest, making him glisten.
“please, i’m fucking begging i’ll— hah, won’t disobey you again. i’ll— i’ll be good. i’ll be yours”
aw, there it is.
and you hum, stilling your hips, letting his cock fill you all the way up, “mhm that’s all i needed to hear. now give me onee more load. just one. know you can do it pretty boy, give it to me”
even though his body is spent, just the true definition of exhaustion, he responds, his pretty cock twitching inside you as he drags against his own warm cum in your spongy walls. and it doesn’t take long before he’s giving into you. balls so empty, just a few little spurts drooling out, but it feels just as intense, maybe even more than any of his other orgasms. “good boy”
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 TOJI FUSHIGURO
“toj’ my pretty boy” your finger draws across the pink lacy lingerie that does a pathetic job of covering his cock. poking out, leaking and drooling all over the fabric, almost ripping through it with just how hard he is, “you look so good like this”
he grunts, blush growing across his cheeks, a deep, deep crimson, turning his head to avoid your gaze, avoid your phone brightly flashing, recording him.
“so hard too, aw” mumuring, you move closer, recording every detail of how he bulges through the set you so perfectly picked out for him. the pink complementing his tanned skin so well, truly a work of art “touch yourself for me”
another grunt escapes his lips, and he’s fidgeting, dragging his balls against the bed, rutting like a fucking dog, pulling at the ropes that hold and confine him, caging him against himself, “need your ..”
“yeah, need what?” you prompt with a smile, watching through your screen how he struggles to say it, pouting as his brows furrow up.
“need your help”
theres a wicked little glint in your eyes, pulling back at the stretchy band of the pretty underwear, letting go so it snaps back against the sensitive underside of his thick cock, making him whine, his broad body shaking and twitching, muscles clenching up.
humming, you bring your palm to his face, telling him to lick, and he listens, immediately.
licking a long stripe up your warm palm, but oh, he gets carried away. stretching to wrap his scarred lips around your fingers, bobbing his head up and down, drool dripping down from around his pursed lips, letting his tongue lay flat. “look at you, so eager”
he comes off with a pop, smirking because he knows you love when he’s so good like this for you.
you press your slick fingers against his covered perky nipples, watching as he twitched, before moving to stoke him through the pretty lingerie, “don’t fu—fucking tease”
you ignore him, let him get away with the little back talk because he just looks toooo cute, eyes all big, looking up into the flash of the camera, leaking through the lingerie like such a pretty boy. all for you.
you flick your wrist faster, leaning to spit on his clothed cock, sending thousands of shivers up the nerves on his spine, making him croon, his ass raising up off the bed to buck into your palms, giving the camera such a good show.
“gonna cum, shit— i’m so close. fuck— please”
he’s babbling, his voice all high and whiney.
“mhm go ahead, baby”
with a final, desperate thrust, he’s shooting against the fabric, babbling your name as it oozes through making a sticky little mess before you’re leaning down to lap at his clad tip. to clean him up.
then you come off him, stopping the video. and tojis looking up at you through glassy eyes as you press against your phone, smiling.
“what— hah, what are you doing”
“sending it to shiu”
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danidrabbles · 14 days ago
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Pairing: Logan Howlett ("Worst" Wolverine) x f!reader
Rating: Explicit (for themes and smut).
Word count: 16.6k
Summary: At the edge of the world, someone from another keeps you from stepping off.
Tags/Warnings (Please, read the warnings!!): Post-Deadpool & Wolverine, female reader (female anatomy etc + 2 mentions of hair long enough to fall into your eyes), strangers-to-lovers, depression, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt and mentions thereof, addiction, drinking alcohol, drugs (mentioned not used), panic attacks, sobriety meetings, anxiety, recovery, co-dependency vibes, sprinkles of soulmateism, explicit smut (oral and unprotected PIV), happy ending (yay!!). If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Notes: Deadpool and Wolverine re-triggered my X-Men obsession and what started as a means to write some smut actually became this idea about two broken people who shouldn't even have met in the first place finding each other. There's a lot of me in this story, more than there's ever been I think. I'm sorry for this glimpse into my head, and I'm sorry if this isn't as Reader-insert as it should be, but... I'm not that sorry, you know. Huge thanks to @javier-pena , for not only reading this over and fixing so many embarrassing mistakes, but also for saying she'd read this even if it was 20k words and always believing in my abilities as a writer, even when I sometimes didn't.
If you want to read the smut as a standalone, you can! Just CTRL + F (or search in page) for 'Logan reaches for' and read away.
THE LOOKOUT
With closed eyes, you inhale the cool, December air, before looking down at your feet. Here, at the edge of the lookout, the grass has been trampled. You imagine friends taking bets on who dares get closest to the edge, lovers making memories, families taking pictures. It’s strangely soothing that maybe you’re not the first to stand here to do this. 
Far below your feet, the water laps at the rocks. The force of it depends on the weather and tonight it’s violent, with big splashes and crashing sounds. The wind tugs at your coat, pulling you towards the water as if to help you along, making you look up again as you hold your balance. In front of you, the line of the horizon is dark but visible – it would have been impossible to make out if the moon hadn’t been as bright as it is.
It’s like you’re looking at the edge of the world.
During the weeks that fall had made way for winter, you scoped the place out a couple times. The first time you stood at this cliff’s edge, the place it took you to mentally scared you so much that you got back into your car and broke down in tears. The next couple times, things became more and more serious, as your life crumbled around you, and your feelings numbed, and nothing seemed to matter anymore.
Something had crept in while you weren’t looking, settling somewhere behind your eyes and spreading out to make a home behind your ribs, slowly but surely changing you. And once you realized it, it was already too late. It had grown large, became jilted and jealous, like it wanted all of you. It pushed away everyone and everything you held dear, until it was just you and that… something.
Especially during the quiet of the night, the lookout became soothing, a strange sense of familiarity enveloping you each time you were here. It was addictive and pretty soon, it became a daily routine to visit. But lately it’s been losing its shine, your feelings here dulling and darkening too. You’re exhausted, fed up, tired of giving it more of you.
Today you want it to be your last time here. 
You’ve had countless hours to contemplate what it would be like, imagined – all but romanticised – how the cold water would paralyse your limbs if the impact wouldn't do the trick. You read somewhere that it’s apparently like falling asleep when the water finally fills your lungs. You’ll be gone, but the thing will be too.
The thought makes your eyes fill with tears, but not from fear. All you feel is relief, like it’s right, how it’s supposed to be. It makes you smile despite everything, and–
“Hey, stop!”
A voice behind you thunders through the silence and makes you shriek into the night, dirt toppling over the edge of the lookout below the shuffle of your foot. A string of curses follows, heavy footfalls behind you indicating that the intruder is approaching you.
“Fuck off!” you throw over your shoulder, your voice a roar with how it’s amplified by the wind. 
After, your throat closes up, fighting the angry tears over the fact that you can’t even fucking kill yourself in peace. Never have you seen anyone here at night, never. What you hate even more is how it breaks your momentum. The haze that was surrounding you is pierced, and your body’s baser instincts kick in. Adrenaline suddenly pumps through your veins, making your legs tremble, your heart hammer, your body scream for you to step back from where you’re standing. Your anger, however, has you nailed to the floor. 
You almost miss the much softer, “Hey,” as a man steps into your peripheral vision. You pretend like you don’t hear him, or see him – you simply pretend he isn’t there, focussing on getting back into your previous mindset. 
But then he takes his hands out of his pockets.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you warn, hating how your voice comes out trembling – weak.
“Easy.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
You stand there together for what feels like hours. You will yourself to not let it affect you, setting your jaw to keep your teeth from clattering on account of the cold, allow the wind to blow your hair into your eyes without brushing it away. Even when it begins to rain, you don’t move, don’t blink even once more than you need to. From the corner of your eye you watch the man shove his hands back in the pockets of the brown leather jacket he’s wearing, and you quietly celebrate that your surroundings are fazing him more than they are you.
“You know–” he begins.
“I’m not really looking for a conversation.”
“Me neither,” he immediately counters, suddenly impatient, “so I’ll get right to it: You planning on jumping? Because if you think the water’s gonna be nice to you, you’ve got that wrong. You’ll end up in there feeling everything, that fall isn’t gonna do shit.”
Having expected a gentle approach, his bluntness and his tone knock the wind out of you. You cock your jaw, the shame creeping up your body the first bit of warmth you’ve felt in a while. Your cold fingers ball to fists as you will yourself not to care. Yes, his words and the way he's shatteríng your expectations with them sting, but you don’t even know this guy–
“And there’s nothing fuckin’ peaceful about it, it’s just panic. Right before you go too far…” He raises a fist and holds it against the center of his chest, “...there’s this burning right here that’s hell.”
“And what makes you such an expert?” you finally spit out.
“Died like that a couple times,” he says without waiting a beat.
The casual statement of something so bizarre beats your resolve before you know it, your head turning in his direction. “‘A couple times’?”
“I, uh…” You watch him hesitate, the moonlight illuminating the tick of his jaw, the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way his chest falls as he sighs, “Let’s just say I can’t die.”
Before you can stop yourself, you snort at that. “That must fucking suck.”
He barks out a laugh, “Got that right.” It startles you when his head suddenly turns to you, when he looks you in the eye for the first time. “But trust me, being down there isn’t much better.”
There’s something in the way he looks at you that makes you waver. You can’t really place it, or decipher why it makes you want to open up to him. Maybe it’s because you’re freezing and it’s your body betraying you, tricking you into moving so you can generate some warmth, moving your lips to keep them from going blue. Or maybe it’s simply because he’s a stranger and it’s so much easier to be honest when there are no consequences.
“Things just feel so…,” you begin, voice shaky. Every possible way to end the sentence crosses your mind, seemingly all wrong, before you settle on what’s closest to how you feel, “endless.”
To your relief, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tell you to give it time that it will get better, or any of the other bullshit you’ve heard from all the other people that had been in your life and left a long time ago. You do find something else in the shift in his eyes, something you haven’t encountered before.
Understanding.
It might be worse. If anything, it’s overwhelming, making your eyes dart away from his as you sniff. 
The wind still tugs at you, the waves still hit the rocks, but your moment seems to have passed. It’s a sobering conclusion, a twisted version of wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe it was him who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, the outcome is the same.
You take a step back, and another, but it takes considerable effort; you hadn’t taken your numb legs into consideration. You stumble, falling back on the dewy, cold grass, not quick enough to catch yourself on your hands. With a groan, you move to sit upright.
“Shit. Hey, you still with me?” The stranger kneels next to you, fingers lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “Jesus, you’re fucking freezing.”
“No s-sh-hit,” you retort.
He sighs, offering you a hand so he can pull you up. “C’mon, let's get you warmed up.”
– – – – –
Logan.
That’s his name. 
It’s how he introduced himself, anyway, after he suggested you follow him. To his credit, he did offer to drive you, but you didn’t want to leave your car in the parking lot of the lookout. Logan waited 15 minutes for you while you put the blowers on the highest, warmest setting and waited for the feeling to return to your limbs. After, his brown truck led the way here – here being some hole in the wall, 24 hour diner. You could have not followed, but the drive was kind of mesmerizing; the night seemed darker than usual, and Logan’s tail lights served as a lighthouse.
Outside, the diner is all Christmas lights and flashing signs, but the interior is like something straight out of Twin Peaks; booths to the left, red barstools to the right, a girl that looks too pretty and too young to be here standing behind the counter. There were two other patrons you spotted along the way as Logan led you to one of the back booths. Once seated, Logan studied the pamphlets–or pretended to, more like, because as soon as the waitress came up he ordered two whiskeys and nothing else.
Between then and now, as you nursed your drink sip by careful sip, you hadn’t learned much more about him other than that he could knock back a glass of whiskey like he got paid to do so. And in truth, you like it this way; preferring silent company, the droning of the machinery behind the counter and the quiet hum of a song on the jukebox next to the entrance. The white noise helps to distract from the white noise in your head. Settling back into the leather cushions of the booth, you let some warmth seep back into your body. Opposite you, Logan does the same. 
Some moments after you finish your drink, one of the waitresses walks up to your booth to ask you about a refill, like she’s asked Logan twice now. You’re handing her the glass when Logan says, “She’s had enough.”
Your head whips from her to him. “Excuse me?”
He doesn’t say anything, and from the corner of your eye, you see the girl leave. With your glass. Logan’s is on his lips, his eyes observing you over the rim, looking at you like he– Dammit. You sigh deeply, a sense of anger filling you. You don’t need this, least of all from him. When you stand from the booth, those eyes follow you, making you voice your observations,
“Quit pitying me, Logan.”
“I’m not,” he says before taking another sip. “You still have to drive.”
You quirk an eyebrow at him. “And you don’t?”
Logan shrugs. “It’s different for me.”
Anger is still prevalent in your voice when you ask, “Well, let me guess, it’s another case of ‘I died like that a couple times’?” 
He hums.
“And how does that work?”
“Regenerative ability,” he sighs. Another sip before he elaborates, “X-Gene.” 
The admission makes you plop back down in your seat. Well, that explains things – he’s a mutant. You’re not familiar with that world, but you know enough to know it meant that. It isn’t like you couldn’t have deduced it before, but truthfully, you kind of thought he was bullshiting you as part of some tactic. Now, his actions and words make more sense: He really knows what it’s like to... That’s why he had that look on his face. Suddenly, you see him in a different light–
“Now who’s pitying who, hmm?” Logan asks, giving you a thin-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he sets his glass down on the table.
“I’m not, I’m just… processing. So this...” you lift his glass, swirl the contents around, “...doesn’t even affect you?”
“It does. For a few seconds.” He plucks the glass back from your hand, and throws the whiskey back with one gulp. His pupils dilate, pushing the hazel of his irises out until his eyes are almost black for a second, two… before going back to normal. “But if I chugged the bottle, I’d pass out.”
“Well, so would I,” you say with a chuckle. “So maybe we’re not that different after all.”
Just as the corner of his mouth lifts, your smile falls, because… it isn’t true; you’re very different. You’re pretty sure you don’t have what it takes to do what he did tonight. To care enough to do it. To sit with a stranger and hear them bitch and moan about being denied a drink. A feeling creeps up on you, sticky and uncomfortable, like you’ve overstayed your welcome—burdened him.
“I should head home,” you say, standing again.
Lightning fast, Logan’s hand shoots out to close around your wrist. “That really where you’re going?”
“Yes,” you reply. When you pull your hand back, he doesn’t let up. You fish your car key out of your pocket with your free hand, voice tighter when you say, “Let me go.”
“Just promise me something,” he says, eyes as dark as they’d been earlier, yet his drink has gone untouched since. “Don’t go back there again.”
“Not making promises I can’t keep,” you say, giving him a wry smile. “To strangers, but least of all to myself.”
He sighs, and lets you pull yourself from his hold.
THE CRAVING
New Years comes and goes, and you quickly discover that it was foolish superstition to think that it might change how you feel.
You find yourself in some club, a drink in each hand. You hate to admit it, but Logan’s words scared you out of your original idea and the only time you can bear to think of how to move on from it is when alcohol soothes the embarrassing grief of your shattered, macabre fantasy. It’s not a good way to deal with things, but it works.
There’s a part of you that welcomes feeling anything at all, but that… something inside you is busy trying to squash it. 
It’s getting somewhere, because you have no idea how much you’ve already had to drink, but you’re buzzing pleasantly. Adding to it, you knock both drinks back, slamming the glasses on the bar before spinning around and facing the crowd of dancing bodies. The music sucks, the dance floor is cramped, you’re tired… The truth is that you’re too old for this, but it’s easy to escape here, surrounded by strangers. You clumsily drag the back of your hand over your wet mouth, push your sweaty hair from your eyes, and join them.
The past couple weeks, you found yourself craving something. Contact. And here is where you can get your fill; a hand on your waist, lips on your ear, the music too loud and yourself too drunk to even comprehend what’s being said, but never more. You want them to get close, but never too close.
After some time – could be an hour, could be 10 minutes – you make your way to the bathroom. It’s quieter here, the dulled thump of the music making the time you spend there feel slow and syrupy. 
When you exit the stall, you bump into someone.
It’s a man. The dark hood over his head obscures his eyes, but you can’t help but think he’s looking right at you when a bright, almost unnatural grin appears on his face. It draws you in like a magnet, more so when he says, “Need something to take the edge off?” 
Curiously, you watch as he opens his palm, long fingers unfurling slowly until they reveal a small plastic bag in his hand. 
“First time’s on the house.”
You have no idea what it is exactly, but your eyes widen. This is new territory for you, and all the possibilities it opens up are suddenly invading your mind. As if on auto-pilot, you reach for the place where you keep your money, the sound of the door opening completely lost on you.
A hand closes around your bicep, pulling you aside with a quick yank of an arm.
“She isn’t interested, pal.” 
It’s another man, who effortlessly tucks you half behind him. Before you can protest beyond an indignant huff, there’s a sound, like a sword being unsheathed, and you catch a flash of red, and of knives. Frowning, you try to get a better look, but your view is obscured by the man’s shoulder. The hooded man seems undeterred, regarding the weapons with the same sickening grin, before leaving the bathroom, muttering something that you don’t understand on the way out. The sword sound returns, the man twists around, and–
“Logan?” you slur in disbelief. 
Logan doesn’t reply, instead takes hold of your arm again, making you follow him out of the bathroom. There he stops the two of you to murmur something to a woman wearing the same clothes as him, before tugging you along again. You’re stumbling after him on account of his pace and the iron grip he has on you as he leads you to the back door. He pushes it open with enough force to make the hinges creak, a gust of wind blowing in your face. It’s a contrast to go from the crowded, sweaty club to the silent, cold back-alley where tall brick walls and employee cars cage you in. You shake your arm and Logan’s grip loosens – another and he lets you go.
“How did you even find–” You cut yourself off, eyes widening, “Oh, my god, are you following me?”
Logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “Oh, please, do you think I have time to follow you around all day?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? You and your fucking…,” you gesture wildly into the air at him, “savior complex.”
“I work here,” he growls. When you give him a look, he adds, “It’s temporary. ‘Sides, me and my savior complex are the reason that creep isn’t selling god knows what to you in that bathroom right now!” His voice is a roar, echoing off the walls around you.
“Maybe I wanted that creep to sell god knows what to me in that bathroom,” you say, doing a poor impression of his voice, before turning and walking away from him.
Logan sighs. “Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving.”
“And then what, huh?”
“I don’t fucking know, Logan,” you say, twisting around to face him again, arms spread out by your side. “Figure out a new way out of this.”
“Yeah? Third time’s the charm?”
“Why do you even care, huh? You don’t even know me,” you say. Almost immediately, you let out a bitter laugh as your own words hit your ears, a sad realization dawning on you. “But I guess that makes two of us.”
It’s not like you expected him to, but he doesn’t answer.
“You know I used to like myself? I used to smile, I used to have friends, I used to be more sober than drunk. But this feeling, it takes… everything.” You raise a fist, hold it to the center of your chest. “It takes everything I love, pushes away everyone I love, including myself. It eats me up, and wants more and more, until I’m something I’m not and until I’m so far away from that version of myself, my old self, that it feels easier to just fucking–” you pause with a wet gasp for air.
“Destroy yourself,” Logan finishes for you.
Your chest heaves, an unshed tear clings to your lash line. “Exactly.”
He takes a step closer to you. “Let me take you home,” he says, voice gentle. 
You should hate the implications of that gentleness, but you don’t. In your drunk state of mind, it’s easier to admit it’s nice that someone understands, that someone’s there to stop you from going too far… 
Tomorrow, when some of your pragmatism returns, you’ll deny this embarrassing thought ever occurred; if relying on other people worked, it would have worked a long time ago, and you wouldn’t be standing here with him. If you’re lucky, you might even forget this entirely, and wake up with a hangover that you’ll enjoy a little too much because it feels like a punishment–
“What about your job?” you ask with a sniff.
Logan’s palm finds the space between your shoulder blades with a gentle push, the warmth of it seeping in through your clothes, and he leads you to his truck. “They’ll manage without me.”
– – – – –
When you wake, your world is tilted sideways, a blanket is pulled up to your chin and there's a pillow under your head. They’re not your own; the blanket is itchy and the pillow’s too small. When you try to move your legs, they stick uncomfortably to the material below them, and you realize you’re on a leather couch. You squint at the light that comes in from a window across from you–
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
The voice startles you, eyes shifting to focus on the source: A man lying on his front on the floor, chin in his hands as he kicks his feet back and forth in the air. 
“Wish I could say it’s a pleasure, but it hasn’t been very pleasurable. You’ve been barfing up the place since the moment you stepped inside. Kept poor Al up all night. Her ears are sensitive,” he adds with a whisper. “But don’t worry, she left about an hour ago.”
“Who are you?” you slur, blinking against the light.
“Logan.” He sighs when you frown. “I know, not how you remember. This is what I look like during the day; blessed with incredible good looks at night and, well,” he gestures at his face that’s covered in scars, "this, during the day. Bit of a reverse Princess Fiona situation–”
“Cut it out, Wade,” comes the sharp protest from next to you. With considerable effort, you turn your head and see the actual Logan, slumped back in a recliner next to the couch, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes while motioning for the other man to go.
“I’ll let you two talk.” Wade winks.
Logan stands when Wade does, walking from your field of view. Your head is scrambling to catch up, trying to piece together what happened last night, but only coming up with bits and pieces.
“How are you feeling?” Logan asks as he makes his way back to you, handing you a glass of water.
You flinch when the front door closes behind Wade with a bang, before taking the glass from Logan and taking a few thankful sips. “Like shit.”
“Yeah,” is all he says as he sits back down.
“What–”
“You fell asleep in the car. Didn’t know where to take you, figured the couch was the safest place.”
“Oh…,” you say, voice small. 
You try not to think about being so wasted that you had to be carried out of Logan’s car, or about what Wade said earlier about the things that happened as soon as you stepped inside the apartment. During your silence, Logan’s fingers fiddle with the armrest, before his hand balls into a fist, and it unlocks something in your hazy memory.
“I have the weirdest memory of you having… a sword?”
You watch as Logan’s lips purse in amusement. His tongue rolls around in his mouth, seemingly contemplating something, before saying, “You probably saw these.” He holds up his fist, flexing his forearm before three blades shoot from between his knuckles like claws, accompanied by a shing!
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you startle, spilling some water on your blanket. Your head spins with your hangover and the bizarity of the situation. If it didn’t sound so much like how it did in your memory, you might think you were still drunk. 
There’s so many things you want to ask, your intrigue almost winning out over your hangover until the sharp start of a headache gives you pause. Instead, you take another sip of water before rubbing your temple.
“It’s a story for another time,” Logan says, like he can read your mind, and you want to ask him that, too. His claws retreat, the cuts they leave between his knuckles immediately smoothing over until they’re gone. “I gotta go check if I still have a job.”
The words make you feel warm all over, the memory of your back-alley conversation coming back in full force. The thought of the things you admitted to him and that you put him in the position that he had to risk his job for you make you feel even warmer, your gaze no doubt laced with embarrassment and worry when you look at him.
“‘S not your fault,” Logan assures, standing and fishing his car key from the pocket of his jeans. “You don’t have to rush but um, make sure you close the door behind you on the way out. Gets jammed sometimes.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, watching as he makes his way to the front door. 
He takes a final glance at you over his shoulder, then leaves, accompanied by a bang.
THE PUZZLE
It takes you a little over a week to muster up the courage to go back. Admittedly, your courage is aided by another, foreign feeling. You don’t have a name for it yet, or maybe you’re afraid to call it what it is, but somewhere along the week, you became consumed with the thought that feeling like you did wasn’t all there was. That there is something beyond this. 
Perhaps foreign wasn’t the right way to describe it, because it is something you’ve felt before – it’s just been long dormant. The last time, it lasted about a month before it all came crashing down, and you swore you wouldn’t fall for it again, but you can’t help it. The feeling’s too sweet, and the idea that there’s still some baser instinct willing you to keep fighting for yourself makes you feel like the sun is shining on you. 
So yeah, maybe you’re just having one of your good weeks, where the thing sleeps – quiet while its presence still simmers. But you figured now’s your chance to take advantage of its unguarded moment.
Sneaking into the building is surprisingly easy. It helps that it isn’t anything fancy. You wanted to forego the humiliation of ringing the bell and him not letting you in, but standing in front of the door now, panting after climbing three flights of stairs, you don’t know if this is much better. 
Just when you’re about to knock, the door swings open. In the opening, Logan has one arm in his jacket, head twisted to watch the other that’s caught halfway in the sleeve. It takes him almost bumping into you to realize your presence. “Shit, sorry.” He steadies himself with a hand on your arm, the touch leaving you as fast as it appeared.
“Hi,” you breathe, taking a step back to give him a little more space.
He nods in greeting. “Brings you here?”
It takes you a moment, caught off guard by him skipping over pleasantries and cutting right to the chase, despite your best intentions; it’s not that he’s ever been any different in his interactions with you.
“I came by because I, um, owe you an apology, for my behavior at your workplace and for, you know…,” you trail off, gesturing at the door.
“Barfing up the place!” comes a shout from inside the apartment. 
Logan’s eyes close with a sigh, before he steps into the hallway with you and closes the door with a bang. 
“That,” you finish sheepishly. “I’m really sorry.”
He nods in acknowledgement.
“I also wanted to ask, um, if you want to come with me to get a coffee. To make it up to you.”
Logan just looks at you, the leather of his jacket creaking as he crosses his thick arms in front of his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly. You hate how he somehow can see right through you, how he makes you elaborate, and honest.
“I want to quit drinking,” you say, fiddling with the sleeve of your coat. “It doesn’t make me better, and when I don’t do it I finally feel a little… normal. Maybe coffee’s technically just as bad, but it’s the only thing that’s currently acting like… like a reverse gateway drink? And I feel like you’re the only person I know that might get that feeling of–”
“I do,” Logan cuts in, voice softer than before – assuring. His arms drop from where they’re crossed and he starts making his way to the stairs. “Let’s go.”
– – – – –
You don’t know this coffee place, and from the way he looks around and shifts around in a chair that might be a bit too small for him, neither does Logan. Main reason you picked it is because the booths remind you a little too much of a bar – and you like the tall windows. The coffee’s pretty decent.
“Did they fire you?” you ask, picking at a loose corner of one of the laminated menus before setting it back in its holder.
“Boss commended me for helping a customer, but not so much for leaving before my shift ended,” Logan replies. “Got off with a warning.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Said that already, and I accepted,” he says. When he takes a sip of the coffee, he winces. “No need to worry about it anymore, okay? I would do it again.”
You nod, folding your hands around the warm cup in front of you.
“But, um, Wade hasn’t shut up about… the incident.” There’s a different tone to his voice, like he’s trying to lighten the mood. “His words.”
“You know, I kind of get the feeling that Wade doesn’t shut up about a lot of things.” It comes out a little meaner than you intend, but it makes Logan laugh and finally slump back in his chair a little. 
“You’re a quick study.”
Offering him a short smile in return, you continue with the other real reason you came to see him, before you chicken out. “I also stopped by because I wanted to, uh… because I realized I never really… I never… I never thanked you, for um… And–”
With a shake of his head, Logan sits upright. “Y’don’t–”
To your horror, your eyes brim with tears, “Logan, I’m supposed to be dead–”
“So am I,” he counters. He lets the words hang between the two of you for a moment, until you look at him, before he continues, “I’ve been where you are. Past it, even.”
You don’t know what to say to that, if the lump in your throat will even permit you to speak, but it’s impossible to look away from him. Logan’s gaze is piercing, frown ever present, but it’s not from anger. Instead, it’s like he’s searching for something, the right thing, to say. The silence doesn’t bother you; if anything, it makes his words seem more genuine when he does speak,
“I had someone who was annoying enough to not give up on me when I could really use it. If getting a coffee with you that’s, frankly…,” he makes a face as he pauses, “a horrible excuse for a coffee, helps… I can do that. I want to do that.”
The corner of your mouth lifts as you blink away your tears. “Was it Wade?”
Logan lets out a chuckle, and it’s honest – fond. “Yeah.”
“Figured,” you say. “How did you meet him?”
Across from you, Logan stills. You swallow thickly, adjusting yourself in your chair. It’s an innocent question, but maybe it isn’t something he’d like to revisit right now. Logan’s mug squeaks when he grips it tighter, and he looks at you with something like defeat– 
It makes you deflate. This must be what you looked like the night you met…
There’s no way to have prepared for what he tells you next: That he came from another timeline about three months ago, that he and Wade saved this one from being destroyed and almost got killed in the process, that he has nothing to go back to after the death of his team, so he stayed here. 
There’s hesitation in it, like he isn’t telling you the whole story, though you don’t comment on it. He doesn’t owe you anything and you’re too busy putting all the pieces in the Logan-shaped puzzle in your mind together; his words and actions towards you are starting to make more and more sense.
“It’s a very brave thing the two of you did,” you say when he’s finished.
“Hmm, it was all Wade,” Logan muses. “He did it all for the people he cares about.”
“I’m sure you would have done the same if you were in his place.”
At that, he lets out a dry laugh with absolutely no joy behind it. “Do me a favor, don’t put me on a pedestal.”
You frown, but before you can comment, he stands. A knot forms in your stomach, worried you’ve offended him, but he clears up the uncertainty immediately.
“I gotta go but um, Wade’s friends–,” he stops himself, correcting, “our friends are coming over to watch a movie, next week, 7:30. I have no idea what crap they’re going to be watching but… it’s nice. It’ll be nice to be around good people.” Logan doesn’t wait for your answer, simply takes his wallet from his pocket and leaves enough money to cover the bill.
“Wait, no, I invited you,” you protest. “I should–”
“You can pay next time.” 
When you nod, he says his goodbyes with a jerk of his head and makes his way to the door.
– – – – –
You see Logan two more times for coffee that week. He never lets you pay.
THE PANTRY
“–but it’s the best one!” Wade protests, DVD in hand.
“They fly a car into space, Wade,” Laura sighs.
“Launched off a jet,” he corrects. Like it helps.
You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, hiding the smile that appears at everyone’s babbling. Unbeknownst to you, you had found yourself invited to a double feature night, with Wade as the self proclaimed DVDJ. The credits had barely started rolling on A Good Day To Die Hard, or Wade had another DVD at the ready. It was met with the same amount of enthusiasm as when he presented the first.
It hadn’t been easy to make yourself go to this tonight. On your way, you’d thought of turning around at almost every step. Of course, that was all before you knew it would be this fun, and that you’d be relieved you hadn’t canceled last minute. Even meeting everyone hadn’t been as bad as you feared. 
There’s Peter, Wade’s friend. Ellie, another one of Wade’s friends. Yukio, Ellie’s girlfriend. Laura, Logan’s daughter. Mary Puppins, Wade’s small, disgusting but adorable dog, who had greeted you with equal amounts saliva and enthusiasm, before falling asleep next to the TV, completely unbothered by the commotion. Unlike Althea, Logan and Wade’s blind roommate, who had taken one listen to the gaggle of voices and left. The elusive Vanessa, Wade’s ex-but-we-might-get-back-together you heard about a couple times, wasn’t there.
Logan had been right, it was nice to be surrounded by good people. Especially good people who were… unconventional. It made joining them less complicated, less performative, and as the evening progressed it made you a participant instead of a silent observer. Wade even called you, “good for the group dynamic,” and it made you beam with pride.
“Don’t they have like, rockets attached to the car?” Ellie questions, to which Yukio’s eyebrows knit together.
“Exactly!” Wade exclaims, mistaking her confusion for enthusiasm. “Citizen Kane wishes.”
There’s more grumbling from everyone when Wade pops the DVD into the player, and he grumbles something back about how Logan would back him up if he wasn’t in the bathroom because he, quote unquote, goes way back with some of these dudes.
You’re pretty sure he’s the only one who knows what he’s even talking about.
An empty bowl of popcorn rests in your lap, and as you put it on the table, you notice how sticky and greasy your fingers and palms are. When the opening credits begin to roll, you get up to wash your hands, assuring Wade he doesn’t need to pause the movie before you go.
The apartment’s small, so it isn’t far to the kitchen, but it’s nice to stretch your legs. You can still hear the sounds from movie night; tell-tale action movie music, comments of disbelief and Wade shutting them down. They’re more faint, though, more so when you turn the tap on and wash your hands.
Right as you’re finished, you hear a dull thud. You turn the water off, head tilted and at attention while you dry your hands. There’s another sound, like a muffled groan. It’s coming from the pantry, you realize, noting that the door is slightly ajar. There’s a shing! sound followed by a distressed grunt, and before you know it you’re walking over, wrapping your fingers around the door to pull it open–
You’re not sure what it was you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Logan’s sitting on the floor, uncharacteristically small, curled up against one of the walls. His chest is heaving, shoulders all but going up to his ears with how he’s trying to draw in breaths. Next to him, his fist is balled against the hardwood, claws buried in the floor.
Fuck.
Dropping to your knees, you wedge yourself between his. “It’s okay, you’re having a panic attack,” you explain, your hands landing on his shoulders with a light shake. “You need to breathe. I’ll help you, just look at me.”
Logan’s head stays tipped down, a deep, rattling breath sailing from his mouth as he curls further in on himself.
“Hey!” you say sharply, cupping his jaw with two hands and tilting his face up, “Look at me.” 
Logan’s eyes are wet when they meet yours, moving frantically as they search your face, tears spilling over when he blinks. Something changes in his gaze, like he finally sees it’s you, and his bottom lip begins to tremble. His hand lifts from where it’s buried in the floor, clutching onto your wrist like a lifeline.
“Breathe,” you instruct, trying not to flinch at the sharp claws in front of you. He doesn’t catch on immediately, so you overdo the purse of your lips when you blow out a breath before exaggerating an inhale through your nose, showing him what to do. It starts off shaky, a fresh set of tears falling from Logan’s eyes as he does as you instruct, but after a couple of times you find a rhythm together. The silver between his knuckles slowly disappears. “There you go, good job. Keep going.”
You sit like that, until the wild shift of his eyes stops, his pulse steadies beneath your fingertips, and eventually his eyes close with a deep exhale. His grip on you loosens and you take it as your cue to let go of him, slumping back against the wall opposite him with a sigh of relief. The both of you catch your breath, sitting together in silence until Logan breaks it.
“Came outta nowhere… suddenly I was back there… letting them down.”
“It caught you off guard, it happens–”
“I let them get killed,” he says, voice raw. “They were like– They were my family, they trusted me to be there for them and I… I was too caught up in my own bullshit. I should have been with them, I should be dead with them.”
Logan’s tears still come, but the words almost sound reverent; as if saying them out loud just to punish himself with his own shortcomings is a balm. He’s talking about his team from there, you realize, and something clicks. All this time, you thought this was about him being unable to die due to his mutation, but it’s more than that. It’s shame, remorse, grief, survivor’s guilt, all wrapped into one.
It’s the final piece of your mind puzzle that makes his picture appear.
“How– How can I ever atone for that?” he asks. “How can I ever–”
“Logan, you can't change your past,” you interrupt carefully. “You made your choices and they made theirs, and you honored them by– by…stepping up to the task, by doing what you did with Wade.”
“What if it wasn’t enough?”
“What if it was?” you counter. Your hand finds his knee with a squeeze, before adding, “You did what they would have done. And now you… you need to allow yourself to honor their memory without feeling like you have to destroy yourself to do it. You deserve that.”
Logan blinks at you, eyes still glossy. He looks devastated yet calmer than before, like the emotion is still there, but displaced. For a good while, you sit with him like that while his sniffles lessen and his breathing returns to normal… until there’s a loud explosion coming from the living room. It’s followed by cheers and hollers, and you’re both suddenly reminded of where you are. 
“C’mon,” you say, patting Logan’s knee before using it as leverage to haul yourself up with a groan. You give him room by holding the door open for him. “Better get back before we miss the good stuff.”
Still on the floor, Logan exhales heavily. “Think this was the good stuff.”
– – – – –
Three weeks later, on your way to your third movie night, you catch Wade and Vanessa making out in the building hallway. 
It stops you dead in your tracks and makes for an awkward meeting with Wade’s mystery woman, who is beautiful but very direct when she asks you what the fuck you’re staring at. Wade certainly has a type when it comes to the company he keeps… He quickly shushes the situation, introducing the two of you, and it immediately makes Vanessa’s expression twist into recognition. 
“Nice to meet you,” she says, followed by an apologetic smile. 
You respond in kind. 
When Wade tugs at her jacket impatiently, they brush past you and make their way to the exit. “See you around!” she throws over her shoulder.
A grin forms on your lips, realizing what you just witnessed, and you race up the stairs. With Wade gone, you’re not sure if there will be a movie, but at least you have gossip to share with your friends.
THE MEETING
April flies by, rolls into May, and thing’s are… okay.
With some help, you find a therapist. It’s good, she’s good, but it’s difficult to be confronted with things that are painful, week after week, and to keep reminding yourself it’s all part of the process you’re going through.
Last week, after a particularly difficult session, you’d left her office being auto-piloted by dark feelings, like they knew exactly when to strike. You had turned corners and crossed streets, wandering as you stewed on everything you’d discussed –  like your mind was playing a constant loop of your most painful moments. It was a small miracle you had heard your phone, and that you had the presence of mind to thumb the green button.
You’d answered without saying a word.
“Got any plans?” Logan had asked on the other side of the line.
“No,” you’d replied, coming back to yourself a little bit at the sound of his voice.
“Al’s making her meatballs – she and Wade can’t agree on if they’re famous or infamous. Thought you might like to come. If it tastes like shit, we’ll order in.”
You’d hummed, managing to ask, “What time?”
It had stayed quiet on the other end, and that’s how you’d known he was onto you, could picture the pinch of his brows, his lips forming a thin line. For the first time, you welcomed it—wanted so badly to reach through the phone, shake his shoulders, ask for his help and accept it, like he had done with you weeks ago. 
“Sounds to me like now might be good.”
“Yeah,” you had agreed, the constricting tightness in your chest easing up. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” You’d released a shuddering breath, ear still pressed to the phone as you took in your surroundings before you auto-piloted yourself to a different destination. 
“Logan?”
“Still here.”
“Thank you for calling.”
“‘course. Get here soon, I’ll stay on the phone.”
The afternoon had ended with Logan and yourself allowing Althea to boss you around in the small apartment’s kitchen, rolling meatballs, sharing stories — Althea’s recollection of something that happened to her in her 20s that involved her stealing a police horse while wearing nothing but a thong, made you cry from laughing.
The meatballs were the best you ever had, though you couldn’t be sure if they actually were, or if it was just the taste of the moment that was better than anything had been that day. 
Sometime after dinner, Logan had nudged your shoulder to show you a little plastic chip. He flashed it at you long enough that you could read the words one month, before he pocketed it again. Then he suggested you come with him next week. 
“I thought it was bullshit too, but it helps,” he’d explained. “Figured I couldn’t continue to drink whatever that stuff is you call coffee to… avoid my problems.”
You contemplated his suggestion. Things were going well for you in that regard, but your therapist had also recommended you go to one of these things, even if it was just for the community aspect of it. It just made it so… official. Your problems, but most of all, your recovery. You weren’t good at keeping promises to yourself, and this felt like a big commitment. Not to mention the speeches and other people’s problems...
But as Logan told you more about it, the location, how it had been for him, you sensed something else between the lines: He wasn’t just asking for you, he was also asking for himself. Maybe… this was his way of telling you he needed some support. 
That’s how you find yourself inside a high school gymnasium a week later. It’s as gloomy as you expected. Slick floors, gray fold-out chairs set in neat rows, buzzing lights in a high ceiling, and a slightly raised podium with a whiteboard that reads a welcome message in capital letters. 
Unsure of what to do, you follow Logan as he weaves through the crowd to find a seat. As you do, it strikes you that there’s a pretty even distribution of people, with many genders, ages and lifestyles represented. Eventually you take a seat; not quite in the back, but definitely not in the front. 
The whole thing goes by in a blur, but where you expected to be overwhelmed, you feel… connected. Here you are, surrounded by people with different backgrounds, different lives, but all their stories have something you can relate to. Where you thought addiction was the common denominator, it’s actually the desire to turn your lives around that unites you the most.
“Before we end the night I want to circle back to last week, when we spoke about goals, or things we want to work towards,” says the woman leading the meeting – you’re ashamed to admit you already forgot her name. “Does anyone want to share something about that?”
It takes a lot to hide your surprise when Logan raises his hand. 
“Logan! Come on up!” She sounds as surprised as you feel, beckoning him to her.
The plastic chair he sits on creaks when he stands and his boots squeak against the shiny floor as he does as she asks. He looks so out of place on a podium; both larger than life behind the lectern and lost to the space of the stage. He clears his throat as he retrieves a paper from his pocket and unfolds it while his eyes scan the room until they land on yours. You give him a little nod of encouragement, and it kicks him into gear.
“Not good at this stuff, so I’m going to keep it brief,” he starts. 
It earns him a chuckle or two from the other attendees, and you can tell he doesn’t expect it when he looks up from his paper. Your hands clasp together with nerves as you watch him divide his weight from one leg to another, before focussing his gaze back down.
“My life has changed a lot over the past few months. For the first time in a long time, it’s not all bad. Coming here has been good. I’m starting to feel more like I did before–” 
He stops his monotonous droning with a frustrated sigh, stuffing the piece of paper in his pocket and sounding considerably more lively after. 
“I have people I care about again, and um, it scares me. ‘Cause I don’t want to let them down, and every day I feel like I will because of all of my… past shit.” He pauses and swallows hard before he continues, “They show me so much kindness and understanding, that… that even though it’s fucking hard, I want to be able to see myself the way they see me. And allow them to care about me without feeling like I… have to earn it all the time, without destroying myself to do it.” 
You exhale for what feels like the first time in an eternity.
“So, that’s what I’m currently working on.” Logan sighs. “That’s it. Thank you.”
A small applause follows, and you quickly unclasp your hands to join in.
Your palms hurt after.
– – – – –
“It was really nice, what you said in there,” you say, fingers caressing a little plastic chip of your own that you keep safe in your coat pocket. You haven’t felt proud of yourself in a while, but tonight you do.
The evening is nice, the setting sun bathing the city in hues of orange and pink. Your pace is slow and comfortable, your arm occasionally brushing Logan’s when you make room for all the other pedestrians. You didn’t plan on him walking you home, but he insisted and you enjoy the company – it makes you a little sad when you turn onto your street.
Logan scoffs in reply. 
“I’m being serious,” you say, knocking your elbow against his arm on purpose now. “It was nice for people to hear a guy like you say those things. I’m proud of you.”
You swear he blushes. “A guy like me, huh?” he asks, almost amused.
It’s your turn to scoff. “You know what I mean.” 
“A mutant?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye.
“No,” you say, because it’s not what you meant, but the hint of seriousness in his voice and the fact he’s not entirely wrong make you track back. “Well, maybe that, too, but I meant someone who looks like you, allowing themselves to be vulnerable. Sets a nice example.”
Logan doesn’t shoot your comments down like you expect. Instead, he seems to consider your words, maybe he even silently accepts the compliment. “Think you have some things to say that could set a nice example, too.”
“Maybe next time.”
During the comfortable silence that follows, you’re reminded of something you’ve been considering for weeks now. You hadn’t paid much attention to it since that night, but as you worked through the feelings that got you to that point, the question kept coming back.
“I’ve been wondering something,” you begin. “The night we met... What were you doing at the lookout?”
Logan glances at you, contemplating the question. “When I had just, um, gotten here, it wasn’t always easy to adjust, you know? So I went to all these places that I knew from back there, to ground myself, to see that things may be different, but that they’re not that different.”
“You went there on your side?”
He hums.
“By yourself?”
He hums again.
“Did you…” You hesitate to finish your sentence, both because you’re not sure if you have any right to ask and because you’ve reached your building. You stop walking, and Logan follows your lead. 
“No, no, no, I… I can’t explain it, it’s just one of those places I was always drawn to,” Logan says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans with a shrug. His brows furrow suddenly, his mind seemingly lost in something before his eyes flick back to yours. “Think it took me coming over here to find reason in it.”
It’s a thought that’s equal parts sad and lovely. 
The silence that follows hangs between you, thick with something you can’t place, but Logan doesn’t look away from you, eyes scanning your face before they land back on yours. You can’t help thinking that maybe this is how he does it, and the question comes out before you can help it,
“Is mind reading part of the X-Gene thing?”
His eyes widen – amusement or surprise, you can’t say. “It can be.” 
“Can you do it?”
“No,” he says. “And it’s for the best, fucking hurts when you can’t control it.” Then the start of a smile begins to form on his lips. “‘sides, I don’t know if I would have a lot of… consideration for people’s boundaries.”
It makes you chuckle. “Right. Not to mention some minds are probably a lot – imagine reading Wade’s mind.”
“Hurts to even imagine,” Logan says, gesturing for you to be quiet as he winces, but a smile breaks through anyway. When your shared laughter dies down, he jerks his chin at the building behind you, “This your place?”
“Wha–?” Going home long forgotten in the moment, you glance over your shoulder. “Oh! Yes.”
“All right,” he nods. “See you next week?”
“Definitely,” you reply.
“Oh,” Logan says right before you turn around. “Bring coffee? You owe me.”
You make a face at him. “You don’t have to– I’ll get you something else, I know you don’t like it.”
“I like it when I drink it with you.”
It’s incredibly hard to hide your grin. “Okay, I’ll bring coffee. See you next week, Logan.”
“See you.” 
He lingers, watching you climb the steps, waiting until the door opens after you turn your key in the lock. It’s not until you close the door, when you can only make out his silhouette through the patterned glass window in it, that he walks off.
THE SUMMER
Walking back from a very successful job interview, you find yourself on your way to your friends with a big, plastic bottle of coke under your arm. It’s a warm feeling to know that you’ll soon have a job that suits you and that you have people to celebrate with; you look forward to seeing them and sharing this with them.
You’re invited inside with open arms, tight hugs, exclaimed praise and congratulations, and it makes you giddy, a feeling so foreign that you wish you could bottle it up right this instant. With a grin, you shake the Coca Cola bottle, before twisting the cap off. You let out an excited shout as you watch the foam shoot out from the top, bubbles and dark liquid pulsing down the neck of the bottle as cheers surround you.
It’s not champagne, but Althea grumbles about the soda ruining her floors, Wade gets mismatched glasses from the cupboard, and Logan clinks his glass to yours and tells you he’s proud of you.
It’s way better than champagne.
– – – – –
You’re in serious, desperate need of a new place… 
The August heat is relentless, and the entire building’s AC isn’t working. It’s with considerable effort that you manage to make your way to your friends’ place, the promise of a constant, cold stream of wind the only thing that keeps you going. But when the front door opens, it isn’t with the welcoming, cool waft of air you were hoping for. Instead, there’s no temperature change, only Wade in his underwear.
“No.” It’s a little embarrassing how you literally pout, but these are desperate times. “Here, too?”
“If it wasn’t this fucking hot I’d be offended by that greeting.” He sighs. “Come in.”
Slightly defeated, you shuffle past the threshold, while Wade lingers. Mary Puppins trots by, an ice-pack wrapped in a towel secured on her back, and you catch a glimpse of Logan exiting the bedroom. He’s in black shorts and a ribbed, sleeveless shirt, and with a desperate groan, he lets himself fall back into the recliner in the living room. 
“Tried everything, there’s no fixing that fucking thing.”
Wade makes a face, “Listen, I know what you’re thinking: Wade’s in his underwear, Logan’s emerging from the bedroom… But we didn’t fuck, it’s not that kind of st–”
“Who are you talking to?” you ask from behind him, glancing over his shoulder into the empty hallway.
“No one–You!” The door closes with a bang.
Confused, you walk further into the apartment. “Well, telling me you didn’t is just going to make me think that you did.” Wade darts past you and takes a seat on the couch, but you hang back and lean against the kitchen table to avoid sitting on leather.
Wade suddenly turns to face you. “Did I ever tell you about our time in The Void?”
“Wade,” Logan warns.
Wade’s eyes are sparkling with mischief and you can’t deny how fun it is to indulge the way he pushes Logan’s buttons. It’s a good distraction from how you’re drenched in sweat. And you’re actually curious.
You play your part, letting out a faux-scandalised gasp. “Did you..?”
“Oh, yeah, baby. Wolverine goes both ways. All the ways, really.” He grins. “We’re so alike.”
“Shut up. Both of you.” Logan groans, lacking any real threat as he adjusts in his seat and wipes some sweat off his brow. “It’s too fucking hot to be annoyed.”
It isn’t lost on you he doesn’t deny a thing.
– – – – –
Apartments look weird with nothing in them.
It’s what crossed your mind after you finished packing up your place three days ago, and it crosses your mind now as you look into the open space of your new one from the doorway. It’s a pleasant, late summer day; perfect weather to move, which was on your schedule for today.
“Incoming!” comes from behind you, followed by quick, heavy steps.
You jump aside as Ellie sails through the door, carefully setting a big box marked “Kitchen” down in its designated area, followed by Logan who is balancing three boxes at once. After a beat, Yukio follows, holding a single table lamp in her hand. It takes some effort not to laugh, not just because of how funny it looks, but also because you relate; after all the exhausting late nights you pulled packing up, that’s also the kind of energy you’re bringing to this.
It’s nice of them to help, and instead of shoving that feeling away in fear, you allow yourself to bask in it. You don’t get long, however, because more help has just arrived.
Wade. With Vanessa. Hands interlocked.
It draws everyone’s eyes to the doorway. Wade looks almost bashful, and it baffles you how someone who can say the most insane things unprompted, all without batting an eye, could blush while holding hands with a girl he likes. To his credit, he shakes it off quickly.
“All right, all right,” he says. “Stop ogling me and my girlfriend and get back to work everyone!”
– – – – –
“So it was like an experiment?” you ask, stirring the pot on your stove before taking a careful bite of food off your wooden spoon.
Tonight’s your first night hosting at your new place – Family Dinner, Wade had dubbed it. With fall setting in, you had an idea of what to make, but it still made you nervous to have everyone in your space. Logan saw right through you, offering to come over early to help you prepare. 
Once he had arrived, it hadn’t taken long for him to admit he wasn’t much of a cook, so he mainly chopped vegetables as you chatted; you about your new place, Logan about his new job as a boxing instructor, Laura going off to college. You don’t remember exactly how the subject of his adamantium came up, but he was telling you freely about it.
“They needed someone who could regenerate fast enough to bond with it,” he explains. “I was in a dark place. Figured I didn’t have anything to lose if it didn’t work.”
You nod in understanding. “Do you… remember much about it?” You put your spoon down, then put the lid back on the pan. 
Logan’s knife stops hitting the cutting board. “Yeah, I… I remember every second of it.”
You look at him then. His eyes are still cast down at his task. Unsure of what to say, you think about what you’d want to hear, and you find it might be best to say nothing at all. Instead, your hand finds his shoulder. Logan’s head turns to you, and you feel like the look you share is more important than anything you could’ve told him. His hand covers yours with an appreciative squeeze. 
“But I’m trying to leave that there so I can focus on remembering what happens to me here.” As soon as he’s said it, his hand quickly slips off yours, adding, in a rush, “Here in this timeline, I mean.” 
You smile at him, but a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. “That sounds like a great idea.”
– – – – –
“I need your help with something,” you say, balancing your phone between your ear and your shoulder while you turn a birthday card over in your hand. Deciding you don’t like it, you throw it back on the pile of cards and continue your grocery shopping.
“Just say the word,” comes Logan’s reply from the other end.
“I need you to steal something out of the apartment for me.” There’s a silence, and you purposely let the feeling of trepidation linger.
“Am gonna need you to say a little more than just that.”
You laugh, “Wade’s been talking about getting a little frame for his polaroid. You know, the polaroid that you held on to for him in The Void, after the two of you fu–”
“Yes, I know the one,” he interjects with a huff. He pauses, sighs, then says, “Consider it done.”
THE PARTY
“There you are!” Wade shouts after he opens the door. He pulls you into a hug that you return with a wide smile. Over his shoulder, you see that the apartment’s crowded, bustling with people who are there for his birthday party.
“I got you something,” you say, offering the small package to him after you step inside and hang up your coat.
“Wouldn’t have let you in if you hadn’t,” he admits as he closes the door behind you with a bang. Wade takes the package from your hand, shaking it next to his ear but hearing it make no sound in response. “Is it a cock ring?”
You can’t help but laugh at that. “Unfortunately, they were all sold out.”
“They always are,” he says, making a disappointed face. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you watch as he tears at the wrapping paper to reveal his gift. He makes another face when he sees it. “Well, now I feel like an asshole. This is really nice.”
“Logan helped me kidnap it,” you explain, pointing at the picture. “And the little red hearts on the frame, well, they’re your color, but they also reminded me of how much you care about people.”
When he looks at you after, it’s with genuine emotion… but Wade is Wade. “Never thought I’d say this, but I’m kind of happy you walked in here barfing up the place.”
A strange mix of embarrassment and gratitude claws its way up your neck. “Thank you.”
“We should take a new one,” he decides suddenly, pointing at the picture. “You both should be in it.” His head turns, watching as Logan approaches the two of you. “But let’s be realistic, his shoulders are so broad he wouldn’t even fit in the frame, much less his bul–”
“Stop talking about my dick, Wade,” Logan snaps.
“I was saying only good things! Jeez, so sensitive…” Wade turns, putting the picture on the kitchen table behind him where it joins all the other gifts.
“Did he like it?” Logan asks, voice low.
“Yeah,” you smile.
“Good,” he replies. “Was a nice idea.”
You eye all the other gifts, some clearer who they are from than others. “What did you get him?”
The corner of Logan’s mouth lifts as he points at a roll of silver duct tape with a small red bow on top, making you fix them both with a confused look.
“It’s an inside joke,” Logan shrugs.
Wade’s eyes sparkle, but in a rare turn of events, he doesn’t elaborate, only adds, “It’s classified. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.” 
“And I have top level clearance, lieutenant,” you reply. You exhale through your nose in an amused laugh when Wade makes a surprised face that indicates you’ve gotten the reference. “What, you thought a Tom Cruise impression could save you?”
“No,” he grins, and as if on cue, the doorbell rings, “but that can. Birthday Boy duty calls, but I want it on record that I could do Top Gun, easily, while Tom would never be able to pull off Deadpool.”
– – – – –
The party settles into something comfortable, soft music in the background of lively chatter. Yukio has just finished telling you about a Professor Layton cosplay she’s doing when you excuse yourself, both your glass and your social battery empty enough to look for a momentary out. Finding your way through the crowd, you make it to the kitchen, filling your glass with water and taking a few sips. 
While you do, the music suddenly gets louder, taking over for the steady chatter. You turn around, leaning back against the kitchen counter, and watch as Wade drags Vanessa to the middle of the apartment. People make room for them, exchanging looks while Wade wraps his arm around her waist, takes her hand in his and begins dancing with her. With a laugh, she slaps him on the chest, before settling into his embrace anyway. Some follow their lead, but your eyes stay glued to them. Wade spins Vanessa under his arm, the smile on her face bright enough to light up the entire room. In return, he looks at her with so much adoration he’s almost glowing himself. It fills you with warmth to see the both of them so happy.
It hits you how you haven’t thought about this in a while. You’d decided long ago that the future wasn’t something you had to worry about, but suddenly you’ve arrived, like you’re in some alternate reality where your future is now, and that it would be nice to share it with someone. The sting behind your eyes catches you a little off guard; mixed feelings of time that has been taken from you, but also of time you’re getting back with the life you now have.
For a while now, you’ve suspected the thing inside you is gone, that there isn’t much to feed off of anymore. If it is, it would make sense that there’s room for something else.
Wade and Vanessa make it look easy, even though you know it’s been far from easy for them. You suppose that’s what it’s like, especially as you get older. It’s less about big gestures, more about small ones; someone to make you laugh, to spin you under their arm, who knows how to apologize, seeks you out during your quiet moments–
“Do you dance?”
You startle, head turning towards the voice next to you– 
“Logan,” you breathe. 
It’s like you’re seeing him for the very first time. He’s standing so close, almost touching you but not quite, heat radiating off of him nonetheless. The plaid shirt he’s wearing isn’t even buttoned and still the fabric is pulled taunt over his shoulders and the thick of his biceps. He’s grinning, his nose pulled up in an adorable scrunch, the corner of his eyes crinkling - you never noticed before, but there’s a hint of green between the hazel.
It hits you so suddenly that you have to grab the counter to keep your balance. Everything that’s been happening, that you’ve been feeling, all the times something happened between the two of you that you couldn’t put your finger on… it falls into place with a well-timed, completely unrelated question and a glance at him.
You like him.
All you can do is blink at him, dazed, unable to speak, even more so when he leans in a little closer, mistaking your silence for misunderstanding. “I mean, not that I– You and Wade were doing a bit earlier, it’s a reference to–” Logan straightens suddenly, his expression slipping into concern as he watches you, “Are you okay?”
You feel warm, so aware of all his attention on you that you’re afraid he might be able to see your pulse blink rapidly below the angle of your jaw. “Yeah,” you reply, voice hoarse, looking away from him to blink the leftover wetness from earlier out of your eyes. 
Anxiety claws its way into your chest, your mind coming to terms with what it’s puzzled together at such a sickening pace that there’s an immediate knot in your stomach. The party has instantly lost its shine, and you look down at the glass in your hand, gulping down its contents. You need to be alone with your thoughts, you need to think about this before–
“I gotta go,” you say in such a rush that it almost sounds like one word while you set your glass on the kitchen counter.
Logan’s eyes follow you as you push past him, grab your coat and reach for the doorknob. “Wait–”
“Bye, Logan.”
THE TABLE
Once at home, you change into something more comfortable, your mind racing while you peel your party clothes off, toss your bra aside, change into an oversized shirt and plop down on the couch after.
Despite having already established that your mind was occupied with other things for a very long time, it’s laughable in hindsight that you never noticed your feelings before. It’s not like you don’t know what Logan’s like; he’s kind, funny, supportive…
…broad, handsome.
Shit.
Why did you have to come to your senses? Things were better before that moment. Logan’s your friend, whom you met in the most unconventional way possible. It’s ridiculous to want more than what you have when what you have is good. Or to think that he would want more.
But he might.
Because you may have been occupied with depression, anxiety, recovery, and everything in between, but you were there; you remember the time you spent with him, the way he looks at you, drinks the coffee you like, laughs at your jokes, seems to know exactly when to call you, seeks you out in a crowd.
But it would change everyth– 
Actually, not a whole lot would change, if you really think about it. You already see him all the time, you’ve seen the very worst of each other, overcome a great deal of hardship together, you make each other better, his friends are your… 
friends. 
You didn’t say goodbye to Wade.
The thought comes suddenly. It was his birthday party and you didn’t even say goodbye to him before you left. You’re a terrible friend. Dread sinks into your limbs, and you reach for your phone to type out a quick, apologetic message. Just as you hit send, there’s a series of loud knocks on the door, and it makes you freeze up where you’re seated.
“Are you in there?” a muffled voice calls out.
It’s Logan, you realize, and a plethora of fake excuses as to why you left the party early present themselves to your mind as you quickly make your way over to the door.
The first thing you notice when you open it is that he’s dripping wet from the rain, clothes soaked through and his hair flat. There’s a deep furrow in his brow, and it’s different from how he usually looks; he looks actually mad.
“Logan, is everything–” you begin, concerned, but he cuts you off by pushing past you and letting himself inside, boots stomping against the wooden floor. 
“Jesus, here you are. Why’d you leave like that, huh? Saying goodbye, your eyes all wet. I went after you and you were fucking gone, it scared the shit out of me. Didn’t see the car at the lookout, but I went to look for you anyway, and you weren’t in the water, thank fuck–”
“Wait, you went–” you pause, the mental image of Logan running out into the rain to the cliffside making your eyes widen. “Did you think..?”
“Yeah,” he sighs, shoulders slumping.
“Shit.” Your heart is racing when you step closer to him. “No, I wasn’t… I don’t want that anymore.”
“Then what the fuck was that all about?”
The desperation and misunderstanding in his eyes is unmistakable, and you hate that you made him feel like that. “I was just… I needed a moment, after seeing Wade and Vanessa like that,” you say, trying to provide yourself with more time to think, unsure if you already want to broach the subject of why you really left.
“You… like Wade?” Logan asks, his frown deepening.
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the unexpected question. “No. I mean, I adore Wade, but not like that. He’s with Vanessa.”
The answer does nothing to change his expression. “And you want it to be different?”
His line of questioning confuses you. “I– No. Logan, this isn’t about Wade or Vanessa, but it’s about… what they have. Something that’s real, but imperfect, and that’s what actually makes it perfect, and I just… I was in a really bad place for such a long time, I didn’t give myself time to even think about… I haven’t felt myself wanting for so long,” your gaze flicks up to his. “Seeing them just made me realize there’s so much left that I still want.” 
Internally, you curse the way he always makes you say too much, because you can see the understanding wash over his features. His expression softens, the balled fists by his side loosen, and his eyes search you, as if to see if that thing you want is him. There’s no doubt he finds his answer; you’re ever the open book when it comes to him, and your pulse quickens while he silently observes you. 
Logan reaches for you so quickly that you can barely prepare for it, a hand on your waist to pull you in, another on your cheek to tip your face up and guide your mouth to his. A shaky breath sails out through your nose when your lips meet, your eyes fluttering shut and your palms sliding up his damp but warm chest to curl in the soaked fabric of his shirt. It’s eager, and the angle is off, but it’s quickly adjusted with a brief parting and a near in-sync tilt of your heads in the other direction. 
Logan pulls away, but stays close, and you almost feel his words before hearing them, “Been… thinking about doing that.”
“Really?” you say, breathless and amused. “When did you, um, start wanting to do that?”
“Few weeks ago–Fuck, no, more than that. Almost did, that day after your first meeting, after you told me you were proud of me,” he admits. “But I wanted to give you time, space. Wasn’t sure if you felt–”
“I do. Didn’t realize it before, but I fucking do,” you assure him, another tug on his collar trying to pull him back to you. His admissions, knowing he wants you too, only make you want him more, like you have to make up for all the time you wasted not doing this sooner.
Logan’s hand on your waist holds you off. “I just don’t know how to… how to be this,” he confesses softly.
“That’s okay,” you say, your nose brushing against his. “I don’t either.”
He inches forward like he intends to kiss you again, but seems to reconsider, swallowing hard before saying, “Wouldn’t be the first time we figure it out together, huh?”
The words make you surge forward to close the gap between you, your brows creasing, attempting to convey everything you feel with one press of your lips to his. Logan’s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you to him in a way that seems to mirror your efforts. Something lights up inside you, something you lost long ago, and it makes you bold, opening your mouth under his to get a taste of him. 
His grip on you tightens with a groan, spurring him into action and walking you backwards into the dark kitchen, the only illumination the slivers of moonlight that come through the kitchen window. You jolt when the back of your thighs hit the table, before you’re scrambling to get on top of it, two hands at your waist helping to hoist you up. Your thighs widen to make room for Logan’s while you push the green flannel shirt off his shoulders, struggling to peel it off his arms to the point you have to break away with a laugh to really get it right. It lands on the floor with a wet sound, before he reaches for the back of his shirt, curling his fingers around the collar and pulling it over his head.
Logan’s sturdy, warm to the touch and surprisingly pliant when you can’t help but let your fingers flit along the corded muscles and protruding veins while he toes off his shoes. His hand flies to the back of your head to fist the hair at the nape of your neck when your lips explore, find his jaw, and travel down his neck. A soft sound sails from his mouth, a barely audible moan that carries over into something deeper when your lips brush a spot just above his clavicle. Using the grip he has on you, he drags you back up to his mouth, doing some more of his own exploring when his warm tongue strokes against your own. 
“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs with a buck of his hips against yours. The thrill of having him pushed up against you, half-hard, warm, full of promise, makes you moan, teeth clacking against his when you do. “Always so fucking good to me.”
It makes you want to protest, from the very moment you met, he’s the one always being that to you, but it dies on your tongue when Logan’s flicks over the tips of his fingers. His impatient hand finds its way between you, disappearing under the waistband of your underwear and stretching the material to make room. His name comes out as a whimper when his spit-slick fingers easily glide through the soft skin between your legs. He curses, another buck of his hips pressing his hand closer against you, and your kiss turns messy and uncoordinated when he dips one finger to touch your clit. 
“This okay?” Logan asks when you gasp, drawing languid circles between your legs.
“Yeah, it’s just– Oh, god.” Two thick fingers find your entrance, swirling the wetness there around. “Been a while,” you manage to finish your sentence.
“I’ll make it good for you,” he promises. “You want that?”
All you can do is nod, and Logan presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulls his hand back. It’s paired with a wet sound that makes your cheeks heat, more so when you watch him get on his knees and yank you to the edge of the table, the quick turn of events and the casual display of his strength making you a little dizzy. Logan’s nose presses into the fabric between your legs with a sharp inhale, before quick, practiced moves work your underwear down your legs. One eager hand places a thigh on his shoulder as another holds you at the bend of your knee. You lie back, arching as you hurriedly pull your t-shirt over your head, leaning up on your elbows just in time to watch him bend down. 
The feeling of Logan’s hot breath sailing out over your sensitive skin alone is enough to make you gasp. He drags his lips and nose across your folds, easing you into it as much as his lack of patience will allow before tasting you with a swipe of his tongue. It isn’t tentative or testing, but firm and sure, and clearly for his enjoyment as much as yours when he repeats his action and groans into you. The vibrations of it and the gentle scratch of his facial hair only add to the liquid feeling in the pit of your stomach. Letting go of your knee, he curls a strong arm around your thigh, spreading you open then pulling you flush against him while he sucks your clit into his mouth.
“Oh, that feels really good,” you spur him on, your heel digging in between his shoulder blades. You watch him with hooded eyes, shifting your weight to one elbow so you can cup your breast with a whine. 
Logan’s eyes slip shut in focus, working his tongue up and down your clit and making you arch into his mouth. Reaching for you blindly, he slides a hand over yours on your chest, fingers fitting between your own and squeezing while his tongue slides lower to lick over where you’re dripping for him. He lets out an appreciative hum as he repeats the move until your thighs clench and shake around his ears. His tongue dips inside you, curling up against the slick walls of your cunt, and his name tumbles from your mouth, soft, pleading, making his eyes shoot open to meet yours.
The sight of him looking up at you like that from between your thighs, with dark eyes, the tip of his nose glistening with your wetness, will probably haunt you for the rest of your life. 
Logan shushes your begging, pulling away and watching as your pussy clenches at the sudden lack of attention. “Let me give you something to come on,” he murmurs, before fitting a finger at your entrance. It meets absolutely no resistance, a second finger sliding inside with just as much ease, and he sets a steady, deep rhythm before his mouth returns to your clit.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” Your head rolls back between your shoulder blades, mouth open on a silent gasp, but he draws your attention back to him with a curl of his fingers, finding a spot that makes you go rigid for a second. It all builds so fast, so suddenly. The hand on your chest shakes Logan’s off, finding the crown of his head and sliding your fingers into his hair. He’s too strong to really make purchase, but you try anyway, using your grip to roll your hips against him. The sound of his groans, every flick of his tongue and every squelching, delicious curl of his fingers all send you closer and closer, until his hand presses down on your belly, and…
“Logan,” you manage, voice sharp with a warning that comes too late when he makes you tumble over the edge. 
It’s so much after so long, the force of it making you fall back against the table, something between a gasp and a shout tearing from your throat. He holds you tighter, to keep you in place and guide the desperate roll of your hips against his face. Your orgasm quickly slips into something bordering on oversensitivity, and you let out a dry sob that makes you slap a hand over your mouth when Logan’s tongue travels a path from where his stilled fingers disappear inside you, up to your clit. He stays there, gentle, uncharacteristically patient as you slowly come to a twitching halt. 
He’s a blur when he comes back into your field of view after standing up, towering over you to watch as you come back down to earth. Becoming sharper with every heavy blink of your eyes, you notice the smile on his face is smug, that the hair surrounding it is a shade darker than the rest. You sigh softly when his fingers slip from you, the feeling of them sliding wetly over your clit making you tremble, but his touch doesn’t leave you completely when he moves to stroke the outside of your thigh.
“How’s that?” Logan dares to ask.
“Hmm, no speaking yet,” you protest.
Reaching for him, you slide both of your arms up over his broad shoulders, wrists crossed in the nape of his neck to pull him in for another kiss. It’s slow, and deep, the taste of yourself shared between the two of you as your tongue slides over his. The table protests with a creak when his hands land beside your head, more when his chest pushes down on yours and you wrap a leg around his waist to get him even closer. The hair scattered across his broad chest teases your nipples and the hard ridge of his cock strains against his jeans and presses up against your slick cunt. It makes your jaw go slack, stoking your desire and making you burn with the need to make him feel as good as he just made you feel. 
With a push against his shoulders, you take him along as you sit upright again, accompanied by another creak of the table. Mouth still on his, you slide a hand down to cup him over his jeans, the weight of him against your wide open palm making you pulse. Logan grunts when your hand squeezes, and your mouth slides off his, kissing his jaw, sliding back down his neck. He cups your head, keeping you in place while watching your hand.
“Feels nice,” he husks, voice so deep it makes you want to push him aside and get on your knees for him, but then he asks, “Are you gonna let me fuck you?”
“God, yeah,” you say with a nod, watching as the mark you just sucked into his neck disappears far too soon while you continue rubbing him over the denim. “Want you inside of me.”
“Jesus–Then get it out,” he instructs, guiding your hand to his belt. 
If you weren’t so turned on you might wince at how eager you are, at how quickly you tug the buckle open and pull the leather free. Logan groans when it relieves some of the pressure, letting his forehead rest against yours. Together, you watch your hands make quick work of his zipper, your fist closing around his cock while your other hand works his pants down until he can kick it off and under the table.
He fits nicely in your palm, heavy and ready, sticky at the tip. With a purse of your lips, you let your spit trickle down in a straight line, and he hisses when it hits him. Your free hand flattens against his stomach, sliding down along the hard planes of his body and following the vein just below his belly button down, until it meets your other hand that loosely strokes up to the root of his cock. Logan arches into you when you stroke back up with a tighter grip, all but getting on his toes to chase your touch. Using both of your hands to get all of him, you twist your fists in opposite directions once, twice, before circling his tip with one thumb. Your other hand curls around the underside of him, dragging some of your spit down to his balls with the tips of your fingers.
“F–fuck,” Logan stutters when you play with him there, cupping him in your hand as well as you can and squeezing his shaft when it twitches in response. His eyes slip shut as his palms land on the outside of your thighs with a smack, fingertips digging into your soft skin. 
It makes you jolt, then grin, giddy from the sharp sting and the power you have over his pleasure. “How’s that?” you echo with a teasing lilt.
He does have the words to answer, albeit a little slurred, “‘S good, sweetheart.”
The nickname tacked on at the end takes root in your chest, blooms bright and makes you ache. You translate your appreciation into tightening your strokes and spreading more of the precome that steadily leaks from his tip around.
“C’mere,” Logan says softly, taking over for you with one hand, giving himself a few strokes before pushing your thighs further apart and shuffling closer to line himself up with you.
You’re so wet that the head of his cock is practically already slipping inside of you, but your hand clasps around his bicep when he really starts to breach you. After giving you a shallow little thrust, his hips draw back, before pushing a little further, gauging your reaction.
“Just like that,” you sigh, watching the careful slide of him in and out of you. “Keep going just like that.”
He gets you opened up like that, giving you a little more with each wind of his hips. Logan’s hand finds the back of your neck, his palm splaying out and keeping you close enough that you’re practically sharing air with each sigh and moan. Eventually, your knees have to draw up to his flanks in order for him to keep going and you wind a leg around his hip to close the final distance with a press of your heel into one of the firm cheeks of his ass. A long breath sails out from between your lips when you pulse around him, slowly adjusting to having all of him filling you up. You can tell he has to put considerable effort into letting you, wood groaning below you when he clutches onto the table.
“Fuck, it’s a lot,” you say, and when he grins against your mouth you can’t help but kiss him again – just a peck. The hand at the back of your neck squeezes in reassurance as he continues to let you lead, and it’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel warm all over. You melt into it his touch, your body relaxing as the pleasure of the stretch of him takes over.  
“Can stay like this a little longer if you want,” he says, but the strain in his voice says something different.
“Hmm, no, you can move.” You’ve barely said it, or his hips are drawing back, and it would have made you laugh if it didn’t feel so fucking incredible. He almost slips from you completely, before sliding all the way back inside with a grunt. The table scrapes along the floor, and vaguely you register one of your chairs falling over in the process. When he repeats the action, the furniture squeaks again below you. “Just don’t break my table.”
The sound he makes in response is non-commital, and when he fucks back into you and nudges against something wonderful, you can’t say you disagree. Grabbing hold of his shoulder and using the leg you have wrapped around him, you roll your hips against his, and he begins to meet you halfway until you work up a rhythm together. The table protest further, a shrill sound filling the room after each slap of skin–
With a frustrated groan and accompanied by a startled squeal from yourself, Logan lifts you. The surprised laugh that threatens to bubble up your throat quickly morphs into something heavier that comes out with a rasp when he makes it all look unusually effortless. Attempting to brace yourself, you sling one arm over his shoulders, the other winding around his neck so you can rake your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. It’s a struggle to keep your balance, a helpless heel digging into the back of his thigh to keep yourself upright. Quick to aid, Logan slides an arm under you, fingers splayed across your ass as your knee hangs off the inside of his elbow. He turns a quarter, presses you up against the wall, and doesn’t miss a beat as he continues fucking you. 
“Jesus, Logan,” you say, voice almost a growl and barely recognizable as your own.
With your new position, you can see him better, the both of you lit from the side with the window to your left. The moonlight paints him in a tapestry of light and shadows when the wind blows through the tree branches, momentarily amplifying the glint in his eyes and the flex of his chest and arms like a strobe light.
The different angle he finds with his cock is a little too good, the feeling of the thick base of him stretching you open with each thrust making you dazed and talkative, “It’s so deep like this, can–oh, my god–can feel you everywhere.” 
Logan curses at your words, squeezing your waist and pushing you harder against the wall. There’s a deep-voiced appreciation of how good you feel in there too that doesn’t quite make it from your ears to your brain because somehow he’s still speeding up. His head ducks down to your chest, mouthing at the soft skin of your breast before closing his lips around a nipple. 
You whine, using the grip you have on him to roll your hips against the piston of his while you pant into his crown. Though the sound he makes against you when you do it makes you beam with pride, it’s not something you can keep up for very long, your hold on him slacking after a few thrust until you slip back against the wall. 
Logan pulls back when you do, tightening his hold on you while his eyes glide from the bounce of your tits that glisten with his spit to down between your bodies. 
“Touch yourself,” he instructs, grunting when you immediately do as he says by bringing a hand down between where you’re joined. Your fingers spread in a V-shape around where he fucks into you, collecting some of your mixed arousal before using it to rub your clit. “That’s it, sweetheart, fuck, make yourself come.”
You nod, rapidly feeling everything zeroing in on the fingers that draw tight circles over your clit and that spot deep inside you that Logan’s finding with every thrust. “Yeah, fuck, I’m–Don’t stop, don’t stop, please–”
He’s coming before you are, tucking his head below your chin to let out a deep, drawn out moan against your neck that ends with his teeth grazing your skin. It’s so much, the pressure of him grinding himself into you with twitching, barely there thrusts, the heat of his release as it fills you where you’re gripping him like a vice, and as your fingers still twirl between your legs you come, and come, and come. 
The leg you have wrapped around his hip slips off, but before your toes can even scrape the floor, he catches your thigh, cupping your ass with both hands now to keep you up, and close. With a soft, satisfied sound, you let your forehead fall against Logan’s shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat with every light press of your lips there.
It takes you a moment to notice your back has come off the wall, that Logan is walking the both of you into your living room and to the couch. He bends his knees, dropping you between your pillows, where you land with as much grace as you can muster considering you feel like you’re made of lead. The soft couch is pleasant against your body, your sore limbs sinking into the cushions. 
Logan fits himself between your legs again, widening them around his broad shoulders before his lips find your overstretched thighs, leaving marks and kisses up up up, until his tongue slips back into your pussy. Your back arches off the couch, hands shooting down to fist his hair with a whine while Logan’s hand fists his cock. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell he’s already getting hard again, and his tongue is making something swirl low in your belly that’s making you pant, and...
It’ll be a long night.
THE PEARL
It had taken a lot of convincing and downright groveling, but Wade had allowed you to bring a movie for movie night. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust your taste in movies, his main gripe with your choice was that it wasn’t a Christmas movie – mandatory for December. Wade’s right, but after you explained that it’s the movie you always watch at the end of the year (and after Logan and yourself conceded that yes, his birthday was technically also your anniversary) he’d agreed. 
Now that you’re actually watching it, you suspect he’s genuinely invested, because after a handful of comments about The Hulk, he’s been quiet for longer than you’ve ever heard him be quiet.
In the scene on the screen, Mark Ruffalo’s character Dan and Keira Knightley’s character Gretta are taking an evening walk around New York City, dancing, singing and sharing music with each other as they do. Eventually, they stop and sit next to each other on some steps, watching as the city continues to move without them.
“...the most banal scenes are suddenly invested with so much meaning, ya know? All these banalities, they're suddenly turned into these… these beautiful, effervescent pearls,” Dan says, wistfully looking on as New York bustles around him. “I gotta say, as I've gotten older these pearls are just… becoming increasingly more and more rare to me.”
The arm Logan has slung around your shoulder tightens, and the couch creaks softly as you lean further into his side, your cheek squishing against his warm chest.
“More string than pearls?” Gretta inquires with a frown.
“Yeah. You got to travel over a lot more string to get to the pearls.” There’s a pause as he turns to look at her, “This moment is a pearl, Gretta.”
She gives him a hint of a smile. “It sort of is, isn't it?”
“All this has been a pearl,” he admits, sharing a look with her.
A finger curls under your chin, tipping your head up until your eyes meet Logan’s. He gives you the same look you just saw on the screen, his eyes soft as they take you in, the hint of green between the hazel illuminated by the light of the television. A thumb swipes over your bottom lip fondly, before he leans down to kiss you.
It takes a lot of string indeed.
Sometimes even interdimensional string.
– – – – –
(THE END)
If you made it all the way here, thanks for reading. Seriously. Please come say hi and/or share your thoughts via ask/messages/reblogs/whatever you feel comfortable with. I hope to share more writing soon - emphasis on hope, I'm not making promises, just an educated wish.
And lastly, if you're struggling with mental health problems, please don't wait for a handsome stranger to sweep you off your feet. I know from experience that it can be incredibly difficult to reach that hand out, but I also know from experience that things can get better. There are ways to get help and you deserve to get help 🫂
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madaqueue · 2 months ago
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LIKE WE WERE MADE TO
of course your doting boyfriend satoru cares about you - he walks you to work every morning, packs your lunches, makes you tea every night before bed. he'd do anything for you, so of course he'll help you with your heat.
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pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!f!reader
themes/content: dark content (omegaverse). smut. heats, fingering, knotting, light dumbification, satoru being a little lovesick. (wk: 1.3k)
a/n: YAYYY happy quintober everyone >:) here's my contribution for the @ficsforgaza kinktober event, so excited to be a part of this and check out the link below for more works under this project! view my full kinktober masterlist and the google form for signup to be tagged in other works too! hope you all enjoy :3
quintober masterlist | sign up form | ffg kinktober
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Satoru had no idea what to expect as he ran home through the crowded streets; since reading your brief text of ‘Come home. Need you.’ the alarm bells sounding in his head had failed to quiet. He prepared for the worst, scenarios racing through his mind. Were you hurt?
As he barrels through your front door, he certainly doesn’t expect what lays behind it: you, sprawled out naked on the couch, flushed cheeks and sweating, two fingers buried deep inside your cunt.
“What’s going on-”
The sentence dies in his throat as his entire body tenses. Something new hangs in the air, something sending his every sense into overdrive. Almost sickeningly sweet, with an unmistakable, carnal need.
Your heat.
“‘Toru,” you breathe out - even his name on your tongue sounds different, an unfamiliar desperation dripping from it, “need you, now.”
In an instant he’s by your side, your scent growing exponentially stronger with each step he takes until it begins to cloud his own thoughts, overcome with his body’s innate desire to care for you, to care for his omega.
He’s never seen you like this - in your time dating, your suppressants had done their job; maybe that’s why you barely noticed when they ran out last week. Just a few hours ago he was walking hand-in-hand with you to work, your eyes glimmering as you told him about your plans for the day. Something about a big meeting with supervisors? He was honestly a bit distracted by the way your thumb drew circles along his skin, the new perfume he thought you were wearing, how pretty you looked all bundled up in your coat and scarf, like a little present waiting to be unwrapped - before you lightly smacked the back of his head.
“Are you even listening to me, ‘Toru?”
“No,” he beamed.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stifle the smile spreading across your lips. Pressing a peck to his cheek, you turned on your heel with a small wave, your fingers dancing against the backdrop of the fall sky.
You always knew how to handle him - that was something he admired about you. He knew his personality easily veered into chaos, and yet you never seemed bothered by it, holding him in your palms and keeping him a stable shape. It took strength to do that, to not let his soul blend the edges of your own.
And yet, now, his strong, independent girlfriend has become nothing more than a sweet, desperate mess. The thought makes his teeth ache.
“Please,” the broken mewl pulls him back to the sweetness surrounding you as you continue pumping your fingers in and out.
Before he can choke out a response, your hands begin hastily removing his clothes, tugging off anything you can grab, palms sweaty against his torso as you unzip his uniform. With a harsh tear, his shirt falls to shreds on the floor, muscles rippling beneath. He was never known for his patience, after all - could you blame him?
“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, climbing on top of you so his thighs straddle your body, sinking into the cushions. “I’m here, m’gonna take good care of you.”
Two lanky fingers collect the slick pooling at your entrance as his free hand wraps around your wrist, gently pulling your palm from between your legs. He holds it above your head, leaning forward and blanketing you in his warmth. A wave of pleasure crashes over you as he slides inside, curling his fingertips towards that spot only he seems able to reach.
But it’s not enough.
“More, ‘Toru, please, need more,” you whine, your hips bucking up involuntarily. The words continue spilling into the air, desperate pleas for what you really need, what only he can give you.
“Okay, just - fuck - gimme a second.” And he’s panting already, the biological drive within him threatening to take over, to pin you down and fuck you until you’re nothing more than a limp little mess beneath him. But he’s better than that.
Right?
It takes every ounce of control to align his tip with your core and stay there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch as he knows you would want him to, but it’s made all the more difficult with your hands weakly grasping at his hips in an attempt to pull him forward.
“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” you babble, “pleaaaseee-aaaahhh.”
When his cock finally enters you, all your nerves alight in flames. Your vision goes white, eyes rolling back as he fills you up. Exactly what you needed. For a moment, everything stills, returning to your senses as his own musky scent begins mingling in the air with yours.
The brief clarity lets you pick up on the prettiest little whines falling from his lips at the way you envelop him so perfectly, two souls made for one another.
In only a few thrusts he’s sweating, his body sticking to yours with each push and pull of his pelvis. It’s hot, impossibly hot, both of your cheeks flushed and gasping for air. When his lips meet yours, it’s imprecise and messy, breathing into each other’s mouths as your tongues meld. He tastes like sugar and desire and love and cinnamon, like some dessert you were denied as a child for fear it would give you a tummy ache. But now, it’s the only thing satiating you, the only thing you can stomach.
“M’gonna make you feel better,” he’s mumbling into you, “gonna fuck you so good.”
“Only you, ‘Toru,” you babble, and you’re just as gone as he is, “has to be you.”
There’s truth to it, of course - only he could quell the growing ache inside you. Only your alpha. Your bodies were made for this, you realize: with each increasingly rough thrust, he hits every spot inside you so perfectly, and as your walls begin to flutter around him, you squeeze him in just the way that has him losing the last remaining shreds of his sanity.
Each beat of his heart echoes through his ears, overshadowing the wet squelches of your cunt around him and the lewd slapping of his balls against your ass. All he knows is you - his sweetheart, his other half, his omega.
As he ruts into you, something hot and thick begins coiling in his stomach, something unfamiliar, but the words are engraved into his soul as he slurs, “gonna take my knot f’me, yeah? ‘S’gonna help, okay?”
Teary eyes blink up at him, glossed over in pleasure as you nod. “Need it, please,” you whimper. Your mouth forms the word on pure instinct, “Alpha.”
And that’s all it takes to make him snap.
With a broken cry of your name, he releases into you.
The sensation of his cock twitching sends you over the edge, the heat in your chest burning brighter and brighter and brighter until it’s all you can feel.
As you come down from your high, there’s a new pressure in your core - you feel so, so fucking full.
His cum swells inside you as he cautiously adjusts his body weight. Pink cheeks and blue eyes find your gaze and he gives you a weak chuckle, met with your own equally fucked-out grin as you brush sweat-slicked hair from his forehead.
It takes effort to slow his breathing enough to speak, enough to think. “Your first heat with me,” he muses to himself. His heart warms at the thought: now he can take care of you in the way he was made to. “Love you s’much, baby,” he hums, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips before nuzzling into your neck, softly breathing in the warm scent.
“Love you, too.” Your fingertips slowly scratch his undercut, the haze now clearing enough that you swear you hear him purr. Your cunt involuntarily clenches around him - around his knot - as you gently run your nails down his back. His body melds perfectly around yours. “Alpha.”
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fairyysoup · 5 months ago
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easy living
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pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader
summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?
tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing
a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.
i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 
Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.
You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.
And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 
On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 
You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?
Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 
You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 
Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?
No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.
Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?
You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.
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You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 
On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 
Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.
Bloody American.
Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.
You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 
You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?
He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.
You, too, were scared and alone.
Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 
Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.
But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 
The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 
You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.
“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”
Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 
“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”
You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 
Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 
“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 
“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 
His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”
“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 
“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.
“Absolutely not.” 
“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 
“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 
You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 
“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 
“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 
Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.
You think you should pull away. You don’t. 
Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”
He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 
Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.
It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.
Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 
“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.
You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 
Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 
Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 
How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 
You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 
Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 
You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”
Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.
“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 
He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 
You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 
Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.
You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 
He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 
So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 
His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 
It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 
Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 
Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 
Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 
He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 
The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 
With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 
Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 
You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 
This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 
There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 
Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 
You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 
To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 
Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.
Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 
To keep you quiet. 
Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.
“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”
A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 
You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 
You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 
On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 
And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 
Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.
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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 4 months ago
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the handyman
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pairing: neighbor! joel miller x f! reader
cws/tags: pure smut, DADDY KINK, oral m & f receiving, p in v (unprotected), an abundance of pet names, reader is under 21 but over 18 (for the plot), reader is kinda stupid, big dick joel, not beta read
summary: pwp honestly. basically a porn plot? idk joel comes over to reader's grandma's house to fix the smoke detector (which she broke) and he teaches her how to be a good girl.
a/n: don't ask why reader lives with her grandma, originally this was going to be longer and it was going to be more relevant
join my taglist!
wc: 2k
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You open the front door to and see an unfamiliar man standing at your doorstep – 40 something, jeans and a t-shirt, progressively more handsome the longer you look at him. You size him up, trying to decide what his intentions are.
“Whatever it is you’re selling – I don’t wanna buy it," you say.
He opens his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “I don’t even live here anyway, and before you ask she’s not home, so you can’t talk to her.”
“I ain’t here to sell you shit.”
“Well, I don’t wanna sign anything either.”
“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you to.”
“Then why are you here? I don’t have a lot of time before One Tree Hill comes back on, so make it quick.”
“I’m Joel. I live down the street. I’m here to fix your smoke detector.”
“Oh, in that case, come on in,” you say, changing your demeanor entirely as you realize that you really need to get in this man’s good graces.
“So, you’re ‘handyman’ grandma’s been talking about?” you ask, as you lead him to the kitchen.
“She’s been talking about me?”
“Yeah. She talks about you like you’re her boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”
“I dunno. I wasn’t really listening. I thought it might just be some dementia-induced delusion.”
“Well, she’s told me quite a bit about you.”
“Good things?”
“Better than the things she says about all of your other family members.”
“You know what they say, ‘if you don’t want people to talk badly about you, then you shouldn’t ruin Christmas.’”
“Uh-huh,” he says, only half-listening as he approaches the scene of the crime - a broken smoke detector, now just wires and plastic, lays on the kitchen counter. He studies it for a minute, furrowing his brows. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”
“It just fell off the wall.” You shrug, acting nonchalant and hoping he doesn't notice your shifty eyes from across the kitchen.
“No way,” he says – not with curious incredulity, but knowing disapproval.
He turns to you and crosses his arms over his chest, and engages you in a short staring contest.
“What?” you ask, feigning innocence.
Joel swipes the dish rag from the countertop and reveals the evidence you’d hidden under it like he's performing a magic trick.
He holds up the hammer, displaying it to you. He looks mostly disappointed in you - in an oddly paternal way, but also slightly amused, likely by how poorly you’d conducted this whole covert operation of yours. “Why’d you break it?”
“I didn’t break it.”
“Kid, I’m not an idiot. Just fess up, so we can fix it and move on.”
“Are you gonna tell on me?”
“You afraid of your meemaw’s wrath?” he teases.
“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”
“Should she be?”
“I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted it to stop beeping.”
“It’s supposed to beep.”
You give him a pathetic pout that you hope works. It doesn’t. It only makes his gaze harden.
“I’m sorry. It was just one cigarette, and I really, really didn’t want to get in trouble… so when it went off, I panicked and hit it with the hammer.”
He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re a piece of work, kid. Making me come out here on my lunch break-”
“-I’m sorry," you interrupt, "I won’t do it again, so just please, please don’t tell on me.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I could offer you something… something to show my infinite remorse for my actions and my infinite gratitude to you for fixing the mess I made.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Okay. What’s your offer?”
His smirk makes you think you’re on the same page so you get down on your knees in front of him, but when you look up into his eyes, what stares back at you is complete bewilderment.
“Get up,” he says, offering you his hand.
“I thought…”
“I don’t think you were thinking,” he says condescendingly.
“You’ve gotta learn to listen to the thoughts up here,” he says, tapping you on your temple. “Not the ones down here.” His finger brushes against your clit.
The way he speaks to you only makes it worse, the throbbing, aching feeling between your legs. You can’t find a single thing to say that isn’t ‘please’ followed by some utterly depraved suggestion.
Joel turns back to his work, somehow unfazed by the interaction.
“Normally, I’d think this sounds a bit too chauvinistic to ask, but since you owe me, can you get me a beer from the garage?”
Oh fuck. Three strikes, you’re out.
“We don’t have any beer.”
“You sure about that? I just put a six pack in there last week.”
“Maybe my grandma drank them already…”
“Your grandmother said that Budweiser tastes like cat piss.”
“It does.”
“Yeah? And how would you know that? I thought you weren’t 21 yet. Who’s buying you alcohol?”
“I didn’t know they were yours.”
“Uh-huh, but I bet your grandma would’ve told you they were if you’d asked her. But she doesn’t know about your ‘habits’, does she?”
“No,” you admit weakly.
“Come here.”
You step towards him, and wait for him to give you an earful or to threaten to reveal your secrets.
“I’m reconsidering your little offer.”
Your face lights up at the opportunity to make things right, to expunge this from your record.
“So if I did that, we’d be cool, right?”
“Depends on how good you are, darlin’.”
For a second time that afternoon, you sink to your knees, but this time, Joel gives you the go-ahead. You try to balance the coyness you’ve seen women in the movies demonstrate with the eagerness you feel inside as you undo his belt.
With his jeans halfway down his legs, you place your palm over the bulge in his boxers and feel him twitch at your touch. When his cock is finally released from its confines, you try not to be too intimidated. Your confidence is falling but your arousal only rises.
You begin by wrapping your hand around him and stroking his length, setting a steady pace. Then, you tease the tip with kitten licks and hear his breath hitch when you flick your tongue across his slit.
There’s no way you can take him all the way down your throat – you’d probably bruise your esophagus. Still, you try, sputtering and letting saliva drip down your chin. You can’t help but feel a bit proud of yourself when he has to put his hand on the counter to steady himself.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” he says through heavy breaths.
You pull away, upset at what you perceive to be a failure. “You didn’t cum…”
“I almost did, baby girl, but I don’t want to yet.”
You feel a bit pathetic imagining how you must look from his perspective, with your teary eyes, begging him to let you go on.
“You wanna give me a good apology, right?” He nods slowly, looking into your eyes, prompting you to do the same.
“Then, I want you to come sit on the couch with me.”
He takes your hand and walks you to the living room, patronizing since the two rooms are connected. When Joel sits down on the couch, he pulls you into his lap.
“I was thinkin’ about what I said before – how you’re not using your head. You could be such a smart girl – a good girl - if only you could think with your brain. You just need a little bit of help.”
You can feel his hard cock poking through his boxers and rubbing against your pussy. It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your hips, just to get a bit of friction, a bit of relief.
His hand finds its way between your legs and he asks, “What’s gonna happen if I put my hand in your panties right now, baby? Are you gonna be wet?”
While you try to form a response that doesn’t make you sound too desperate, his fingers toy with your waistband. “Remember, baby, good girls are honest,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.
“Yeah, I am… wet.”
“For me?” His hand meets your bare skin and finds that you are, indeed, dripping wet. “Did I do this to you?”
“Uh-huh.” You arch into his touch, shamelessly using his fingers for your own pleasure.
“If you want more, you have to be a good girl.”
With the promise of a reward, you follow his implied instructions and still your hips.
“I’ll be good. I promise.”
He takes your word for it and begins rubbing circles on your clit. You could cum from that alone but he slips a finger inside you, curling it upward to meet that special spot.
Joel expects a response from you, but not the one he gets.
A single word: “Daddy…”
“Oh, baby. I get it now. Been needin’ daddy to take care of you.”
He’s right. You do need this. He can take care of you, you can be good for him. When he fucks you with his fingers, you swear you could fall in love with him.
But when he takes them away, you cry.
“Shh… It’s okay,” he says, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I wanna do something else. It’s gonna make you feel even better.”
Before you have a chance to think, your panties are on the floor and his head is between your thighs. You can feel his breath on your clit when he speaks. “I want you to be a good girl and cum on my face – can you do that?”
“Yes, daddy.” The word leaves your mouth more naturally than it probably should, it's almost instinctual.
Joel wastes no more time talking, knowing his tongue can convey much more when it runs along your folds, and his lips can elicit a better response when they suck lightly on your clit.
The only thing you have for him is moans accompanied by breathless chanting of “daddy, daddy, daddy.”
He hums into your core, an affirmative, a reminder that you are a good girl. You can do this.
You can cum for him. You will cum for him – there is nothing that can stop the euphoria that rushes through you. It’s the kind that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head.
Joel was right – the orgasm clears your mind. But the realization that the situation you’ve ended up in – naked on your grandmother’s couch with her middle-aged neighbor who is supposed to be fixing your mistake, not helping you make another - is a precarious one. Being a smart girl seems to be a double edged sword.
Euphemistically, speaking.
In truth, it’s Joel’s cock that’s fully-sheathed inside you. Pain and pleasure mix as he thrusts in and out of you. You swear he might split you open, but even if he quite literally tore you to pieces, you'd die happily.
“You’re takin’ it so well,” he tells you, “knew you’d be a good girl.”
And maybe it’s the praise, or maybe it’s his thumb on your clit, but you’re rapidly approaching a second orgasm. All you can do is hold onto Joel, dragging your nails down his back. He bites your neck in response, and hopefully he doesn’t intend for it be a deterrent, because it only serves to heighten your pleasure.
He slows his pace, but his hips slam into yours harder, filling the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin in a steady rhythm.
“Whose pussy is this?”
You can’t breathe when the weight of his cock knocks the wind out of you, so he stops, allowing you to answer.
“Yours, daddy!”
His lips on yours are your cue to cum – or so you hope because it happens regardless of your will.
He has the sense to pull out and let his release spill onto your stomach.
You sigh, relaxing into the couch. “I need a cigarette,” you say.
“Did you not learn anything from today?”
“Mm-mm,” you say grinning dumbly.
Caught up in a daze – absolutely enraptured by his need to have you – he made the mistake of fucking you stupid.
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i2sunric · 6 months ago
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I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE part 2 (s.jy)
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pairing: rich boy!jake x reader (f)
summary: after jake’s betrayal, you tried try pick up the pieces of your broken heart by replacing him with heeseung, even if they never truly fitted back together— not until your realised jake’s heart was in worse shape.
warnings: sexual tension, angst, hurt/comfort, making out, kissing, smut (blowjob, missionary, doggy, riding, creampie, hair pulling, chocking), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!) fighting, alcohol consumption, usage of weed, curse words, pet names (baby, ma cherie), hyung line (minus jake) are actually a conspiracy for jakeyn. Imk if more. PROOFREAD → READ PART 1
published: 13th May 2024
wc: 6.8k
taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore (one shot) @anittamaxwynn @jvjsssnaa @slut4hee @kgneptun @nyxtwixx @laurradoesloveu @star4rin @capri-cuntz @eneyiri @samouryed @heyniki @ineedsomezzz @nanamomgmong @aishigrey @naurrjakeu @ak-aaa-li @sjakewrld @nikiswifiee @koralira-kira @daisycottage @yunhoswrldddd @smisworld @cloud-lyy @avaleyshin @soobinbunnie5 @ikeulims @tuituibzhe @starggukies @icywinter1999 [BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED]
a/n: aight this actually turned out longer than i intended and did i really write smut while listening to windows down by big time rush? yes. having a keylock doesn’t mean you’re poor btw (i also have a keylock). please REBLOG & LIKE to share! also lmk your thoughts by commenting 🎀 tysm for loving this fic!
You stared yet again at the reflection in front of you. Tear stains had ruined your makeup, your mascara that claimed to be waterproof was now coating your cheeks until your chin.
You gripped the sink in anger, your knuckles turning white at the force.
A lot of curse words flashed in your mind, but none were strong enough to represent your current state.
How could you be so oblivious? You thought Jake and you had something, something that went beyond just two people who met at a frat party.
You felt it, inside your heart, the way it tickled every time you heard his sweet chuckle leave his lips, seeming like the only light in the darkness of life.
You took a deep breath, trying to gather all the shattered pieces of your heart, laying open there. If that was how it hurt, you sure as hell weren’t going to give anyone else the key to access to it.
“What’s a pretty girl crying in the bathroom for?” A voice snapped you out of your trance. You raised your face and met a pair of known, dark eyes.
“Heeseung.” You breathed out, not even bothering to turn around. That moment almost felt like a deja vù, probably because that same bathroom was where your lips first met Jake’s.
Trying to block out all the memories of that Australian man, you turned around and leaned back on the countertop.
“Glad you still remember my name.” He said, licking his bottom lip, “Found out your prince charming wasn’t as innocent as you thought?”
You frowned at his words “How’d you know?” And Heeseung just chuckled bitterly in response “I invited you to my party in hope of having you for myself.”
His eyes roamed all over your body “Just to find out you were at it with my best friend.” You rolled your eyes. “We just made out, nothing more.”
If you thought Jake was bold, Heeseung was shameless. He was looking at you like you were a gazelle in the lion’s den, eyes scanning your body, probably imagining you without clothes.
“Well, he’s busy now.” You turned around and looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to clean the mascara stains on your face.
“With Karina?” Heeseung nodded at himself, “She was there before you.”
You turned around again, a deeply offended expression painting your features “Excuse me?”
Heeseung smirked, cleaning your cheeks with his own thumbs “You really thought Sim Jake would fall in love with a mediocre girl?” He cooed “Aw, poor you. Jake had always been greedy, he would never settle for someone who isn’t from his own neighbourhood.”
“And why are you telling me this?” You asked warily, not fully believing the words leaving his mouth. You wanted to stay with your impression of the kind and playful Jake. Not the player, not the heartbreaker.
“Because he isn’t worth your tears, pretty.” Heeseung’s voice was husky and hoarse, you couldn’t almost understand his words “But I am, when I’ll fuck you so hard.”
You pushed his chest away, “Disgusting.” But Heeseung only laughed in response, “I was kidding.”
You rolled your eyes and stepped aside of him “I’m going home.” You were almost out of the door when his big hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush on his chest.
“Or, I have a better idea.” You raised a brow. “You don’t look like someone who has nice ideas.”
“Just trust me.” He wiggled his brows “I know you’re known for seducing and then leaving.”
You scowled “If that’s my reputation on your side of the town.” His fingers trailed your arm until they reached your shoulder, caressing the bare skin “In my opinion, that’s hot.”
“I don’t remember asking.” You sighed, having heard his flattering already when he was courting you, a couple of weeks before.
“I’m saying, we go downstairs.” Heeseung bit his bottom lip, playing with the strap of your dress. “And we get a taste of each other, just let your mind drift off.” He said, lowering down to whisper in your ear.
You honestly weren’t in the mood to make out with someone, let alone be in a room full of teenagers drunk off their tits— But what could you do better to fix your broken heart?
“I hope you improved your kissing skills.”
𓆩♡𓆪
If stares could kill, then the ones Jake was giving you as you basically straddled Heeseung in the middle of his living room got you dead a few minutes before.
Your lips were attached, rarely pulling away, just enough to catch your breath while his hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you in place on his laps.
Jake was still with that pretty woman whose name you learnt was Karina. And in fact, she was deadly gorgeous, you almost didn’t blame Jake for leaving you for her. But you were Y/N, nobody should’ve dared to play with your heart that same cruel way Jake did.
“You don’t mind making out with me in front of him?” You asked on Heeseung’s lips, licking his bottom one “Nah,” He cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer “You weren’t a thing anyways, were you?”
Your heart stopped at his words, because in fact, you and Jake weren’t anything. You had never been, it was foolish of you to even hope for it.
“No, we weren’t.” You replied in a whisper, “Perfect.” Heeseung resumed kissing you, more roughly this time.
Jake needed something stronger than the mild cup of beer in his hand to forget your presence in the room. Smashing his head on the wall seemed like a good option since not only did you attend the party but were also making out with his best friend.
He called it on himself, he knew nothing good would come with playing with you, but he couldn’t erase all that he had done.
Trying to cancel the image of Heeseung with his hands all over you, he turned to the side to give his attention to the raven haired girl beside him “So, when’s your brother coming home from Paris again?”
Karina smiled at the mention “Sunghoon is coming back in two days!” She informed him, “He also wanted to invite you guys over.”
Jake beamed back at his other best friend’s older sister and nodded “That sounds good, I haven’t seen him in one month or so.”
Karina rolled her eyes “Yeah, I came back as soon as work finished but he claimed he wanted to ‘sightsee’ the city before returning here.”
He smiled “Living his best life, I see.” He patted her shoulder, the touch on her exposed skin only made him remember how your body felt when it was wrapped around his, kissing you all over.
He hoped he could have done more, to be with you longer so that he would have experienced having you laid down beneath him, in your whole essence and beauty. He wished he had a chance to do that— But the universe wasn’t on his side.
You hadn’t realised how much fun those rich kids could have. You thought they talked about horses and lake cottages in their free time but they actually were so much more than that!
Or maybe it was whatever Heeseung made you smoke that was altering your thoughts.
You were currently sitting on his laps, your back pressed against his chest as you took a drag out of the joint between your fingers.
You giggled at something one of Heeseung’s friends said, you weren't even sure why you were laughing but it sounded fun.
Heeseung caressed your back, trailing circles on your shoulder as he took a drag from his own joint “Having fun, Y/N?” He asked and you nodded “Much.”
“Mhmh, I bet you are.” He smirked, “First time smoking weed?”
You nodded again “Jake said I looked like I did it daily,” You chuckled “But I never tried.”
“Did he?” He whispered, getting close to your neck, leaving kitten licks “You talk a lot about him.”
“No.” You frowned “I don’t.” Heeseung chuckled and started sucking on your sensitive skin, making you let out a moan.
His big hand went to cover your mouth as he worked on your neck, sucking and biting enough to leave a hickey “You talked about him the whole night, haven't you even realised?”
You widened your eyes at his statement. No, you hadn’t realised, but when his name rolled out of your tongue it just sounded so right.
You just shook your head, unable to reply verbally since his hand was on your lips.
You closed your eyes, trying to block out any thought at the feeling of Heeseung’s lips on your neck and the weed clouding your mind.
“Are you mad?” A strict voice suddenly snapped you out of your state of trance as you felt yourself being ripped away from Heeseung’s grasp.
You opened your eyes just to find a very rather and deeply angry Jake standing in front of you, if he was in a cartoon you’d see his veins pulsing on his forehead.
“He’s Jake!” You exclaimed happily to Heeseung, the effect of the amount of alcohol you drank and the intoxication from weed made you act hyper “I know.” Heeseung replied calmly.
Jake pulled you behind his back “What were you thinking? Making her smoke this shit?”
You frowned “It’s good—“ But Heeseung cut you “Relax man, we were just having fun.”
“This is not having fun.” He took the joint from your hand and threw it to Heeseung “Don’t get her into your addictions.”
Heeseung raised a brow, his expression remaining stoic “She was willing.” Jake snapped back “She’s drunk!”
He took a deep breath and pointed a threatening finger toward Heeseung “Do not pull this ever again.” He stated before taking your hand in his and dragging you out of the party.
Meanwhile, Heeseung smirked as he saw the two of you walk away; Maybe that was when his best friend would finally wake up and realise all the things he was losing.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Hey!” You exclaimed, trying to pull away from his iron grip “Yunjin is still inside.” Jake let out a small groan “I’ll drive her home later.”
You pulled hard on his hand, making him stop right in front of his crimson car “Let me go.”
Jake’s eyes were full of rage, you were almost scared at their intensity “Are you angry?”
“Yes.” He stated, voice serious “At me?” You asked, your voice was so soft and quiet it made his heart jump out of his ribcage “No, not at you.”
Your eyes were red and bloodshot, your breath heavy “How many did you smoke?” He asked, trying to contain his tone.
You gulped down, lowering your gaze “Two.” Jake nodded and opened the door of his car, letting you in.
“I’m going to kill Heeseung somedays.” He mumbled, walking to the other side and entering the driver seat.
He started the engine and drove in silence, the late hours of the night not as lively as they usually were.
When you reached a stoplight, Jake opened a small bottle of water he had in his car and handed it to you “Drink, I want it all finished before we reach your house.”
You raised a brow, your mind was already puzzled and his actions only added to your confusion “Why?”
“Just listen to me.” He dismissed your question and started driving again while you drank small sips from the bottle.
You soon reached your house, this time Jake parked his car unauthorisedly in front of it, exiting the car to open the door for you.
You looked up at him, your vulnerable state making him want to protect you even more. Damn Heeseung.
“I couldn’t finish it all…” You murmured, showing him only the half-empty bottle of water.
His eyes softened. “That’s ok, at least you drank some.” You smiled up at him and stumbled a little as you tried to reach your house door.
Jake helped you, holding you up with his arms under your armpits “Shoot, Y/N. Why did you drink so much?” He let out a huff, as he was basically supporting all your weight.
You leaned on the wall and handed Jake your purse, not really in the state to open the door.
“What’s the code?” He asked and looked at your door, just to realise there was no code to access inside it, your door still needed a key to be opened.
His stomach dropped, another mental check of how different your lives were “Inside the purse.” You murmured.
Jake nodded and opened your purse, taking out the keys and opening the door, holding it open.
“You’re mad at me?” You asked again, your eyes half-lidded and you could barely hold yourself up— yet you were ever so pretty.
The moonlight shone on you, lighting up your skin, your hair falling down your face, messy but gorgeous. So dishevelled but so pretty.
“No, Y/N. I’m not mad at you.” He repeated, his tone sincere “Then… Then why you ignored me?” You asked, the pout on your lips only making him want to bite on them.
He gave you the purse back and pushed you a little so that you walked in “Go straight to bed, don’t wake your parents up. You don’t want them to see you like this.”
You nodded obediently and Jake caressed your cheek with his thumb before turning around. He stopped right in front of your door and smiled “I’m doing this for you, ma chérie.” And then closed the door.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Hey man,” Jake greeted Sunghoon as he entered his house, giving him a high five, “Good to see you again.”
“Yeah, glad to see you too.” Sunghoon nodded and closed the door behind his back.
“Am I the last one?” Jake asked, walking to the couch and sitting on it, bouncing a couple of times.
“No,” A wild Jay appeared from the kitchen where he was cooking something for dinner, already busy since late afternoon. “Heeseung texted he’d be late.”
“As always.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes and sat down beside him “I swear, he never changes.”
“Jay told me you will take over your father’s company,” Sunghoon smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes “Congratulations.”
“Yeah.” Jake laughed “Thanks.” Awkward silent filled the room, the only sound being Jay’s pots as he cooked. Sunghoon eyed him up and down, leaning back on the couch and resting his head on his hand “Hadn’t you rebelled to your parents?”
“Rumours fly.” He smiled forcefully “It was just a silly thing. I actually realised I should make them proud after eveything they did for me.”
“And what exactly did they do for you, Jake?” Sunghoon’s voice was low, his gaze piercing.
Jake just cleared his throat and changed the topic “So, how was Paris?” He asked “I know you booked a hotel near the Eiffel Tower. Bet it was awesome.”
Sunghoon tsked “Indeed. I’ll show you the picture if you want.” Jake answered positively when the doorbell rang.
“You get the door, it must be Heeseung.” Sunghoon got up from the sofa and patted his pockets “I’ll search for my phone.”
Jake got up as well and walked to the door, the doorbell rang again and he sighed “Yeah, coming.” He opened it and widened his eyes when he saw another familiar figure beside Heeseung.
He took in the sight of you, wearing comfortable clothes, looking ever so dreamy.
His gaze fixed on the hickey Heeseung made you a couple of days before, now all dark and purplish. He gulped “What is she doing here?”
“I invited her.” Heeseung shrugged, stepping aside Jake and walking inside the house.
You were left with him, staring at each other’s faces, acting as if both of your hearts weren’t pounding “How’s the after effect?”
There was no context but you knew what he meant “Good, I’m a big woman. No joint can kill me.” You replied, walking beside him when no more words were exchanged. Truth to be told the next day you woke up with a throbbing headache, regretting all of your life choices— though the biggest one was the hickey on your neck.
“I thought you didn’t want to hang out on this side of the town.” Jake spoke, his tone sounding mocking. You scowled “Maybe I changed my mind.” You walked faster toward the kitchen where everyone was gathered.
You got to know Jake’s friend group. Aside from Heeseung and him, you had only seen Jay at the last party. You later found out Sunghoon was on a business trip in Paris which was why you hadn’t seen him before, but even if you did he wasn’t the happiest about your presence, so you thought you wouldn’t have been friends.
Jay, on the other end, was sophisticated and kind, the two of them looking ever so the stereotype of rich kids.
Heeseung and Jake were rather normal, they could’ve passed as the kids from your neighbourhood if you didn't know their true identities.
“I brought some snacks.” Sunghoon announced, placing a sachet on the table. He took out all kinds of sweet things, but your eyes lit up at the sight of macaroons.
You had only seen their pictures and let your mind wander at what their taste would be like, but now they were in front of you, so you reached your hand and took one.
“You like ‘em?” Heeseung asked, taking the chocolate flavoured one and eating it “I’ve never tried them.” The whole table fell silent, all the boys stopping in their tracks.
“Never?” Jay questioned and you shook your head “That’s a bummer though, I only bought four for the four of us.” Sunghoon was about to take the vanilla flavoured macaroon out of your hand when Jake slapped it away.
“I don’t like them anyways, she can have mine.” Jay frowned at his friend’s words “You love macar—“ He was shushed by a biscuit placed in his mouth by Jake “I don’t like them.” He repeated.
You bit on the small treat and your eyes formed hearts “It’s so good!” You said, munching on it. And you didn’t know it, but Jake’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of you so happy.
You continued to spend time with them, playfully beefing with Sunghoon as if you weren’t an intruder in his house until they decided to go in the free time room to play billiard.
“But I don’t know how to play billiards.” You pouted, watching all the men gather around the pool table.
“That’s ok, you can just watch.” Sunghoon dismissed you quickly, placing himself in front of you to posionate the balls inside the triangle.
You just scoffed and sat on the kitchen counter, crossing your arms on your chest.
You watched the game develop in front of your eyes, never truly understanding its rules. They were too useless and complicated and you stopped paying attention in the middle.
After what seemed like forever, where you had the time to walk around Sunghoon’s big house three times and even have a chat with his maids — cause apparently, rich kids could even afford maidens — you entered the kitchen again just to see it was empty.
You looked around, checking if anyone was there before following Sunghoon’s previous actions, placing the balls in the triangle to align them.
You didn’t know what they found interesting in billiards, and trying to understand it wasn’t going to get you killed.
You took the cue stick and positioned yourself, copying the boys’ postures.
Something must’ve gone wrong, though, because as you pushed the cue you embarrassingly missed it.
“You are too far with your back.” The same voice that haunted your dreams spoke from behind you, making you flinch.
“Chill, it’s just me.” Jake stated, munching on some chips “Heeseung wondered if you wanted something to eat.”
You smirked, leaning on the table “Heeseung or you?” Jake rolled his eyes but didn’t deny your questioning.
He gulped down his food and stared at you “You want to play pool?”
“I already said I don’t know how to do that.” You repeated, glancing back at the untouched balls “I don’t even understand the rules.”
“Here.” Jake’s accent tickled your ears as he made you turn around with his hands on your hips “Bend just a little.” You didn’t know if his voice was really that low or if he was doing it just to tease you— Whatever was his plan, you were down for it.
“Mh? Like this?” You said with your most innocent voice, bending slightly more on the table, just enough to make your ass touch his front hips.
He let out a faint groan “Yeah.” He tried not to show the effect you had on him and trailed his fingers along your arms until he reached the cue stick in your hands. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the contact.
“Then?” You asked, eager for him to touch you. “Then you place the cue like this.” He shifted your fingers so you could grip it the right way and turned his face, you could feel his breath on your skin and the tip of his nose poking your cheek.
There was also something else poking your ass cheeks, which was why you started moving, briefly. Just to tease him.
“Take the aim.” The combination of his voice and the proximity of your bodies made your mind hazy, making it hard for you to concentrate.
You just let him guide you “And… Shoot.” You pushed the cue between your fingers and finally, all the balls moved around the green table.
One went into the hole and you jumped happily “I did it!” You exclaimed, laughing “You saw?” You asked, turning around.
Jake was staring at you with ever so deep eyes, full of emotions you didn’t quite get but felt inside of you as well “I always see you.”
𓆩♡𓆪
You weren’t sure why Heeseung invited you to yet another party, or the reason as to why you seemed to be the only girl at a boys hang out, but you weren’t going to complain.
The hotel you guys were staying in was huge, apparently it belonged to Heeseung’s parents and you could have it all for yourself the whole night.
Wearing the best dress you owned you presented yourself at the location beside the raven haired man.
You greeted his friends group and noticed there were many other people, unlike you thought, all partying and dancing together.
It was very different from the ones he usually threw at his house, this one was huge and packed, there was almost no space to go through the crowd.
“And you said I couldn’t bring Yunjin along.” You side eyed Heeseung, earning a shrug. “One girl from the other side is already enough.”
You slapped lightly on his shoulder “Rude.” Heeseung laughed and pushed your back a little. “Go have fun, I have guests to greet.”
Feeling like a mouse surrounded by cats, you made your way through the crowd, trying to ignore the thirsty stares you were receiving. Since that fateful night where you willingly let your heart out for Jake you had become more careful with your possible make outs.
As you turned your face to look at the big pool where people were swimming, you accidentally bumped someone's chest, which made you stumble backwards.
“Sorry,” You murmured, about to walk away when a hand came around your wrist. It wasn’t Jake’s, the one you were used to, it was much rougher and tighter.
You glanced up just to notice a tall guy, probably high judging from his bloodshot eyes and twitching nose. Holy Moly.
That guy lowered to match your height, his hot and smelly breath made your nose scrunch in disgust “Hey, gorgeous.”
Your whole body froze and your heart stopped beating for a few seconds “Uh… Hi.” You laughed awkwardly, trying to remove your hand from his grip.
“You bumped me by mistake?” He asked, getting dangerously close “Or did you want my attention. You didn’t have to pull that act, my attention is all yours now.” His words were so slurred you could barely understand them.
“Actually, it was a mistake.” You said and again tried to pull away from him, but the more you tried the more he got closer.
“Don’t lie.” He whispered and wrapped one arm around your waist. You were trapped, your breath hitching.
“I truly am not.” You pushed his chest away, resulting in him only tightening his grip “Come on… Let’s have fun.”
“She said it was a mistake.” A familiar voice with a thick accent, thicker than usual, commented, placing one hand on the guy’s shoulder.
The guy groaned and raised himself in all his height, turning around in slow motion — or maybe it was just your panicked vision playing tricks — toward Jake.
He stood in front of him, unfazed by how big and tall that guy was as he stared at him with a dark gaze.
“And who are you to interrupt us?” The guy asked, his voice too low for your own likings “Her guy.” Jake said as if it was the most obvious answer, raising a brow.
“So, I suggest you walk the fuck away before I throw one punch on your nose and break it.” You had never seen Jake angry, you had a few fantasies about it, but you would’ve never imagined him being so scary (and hot).
His whole aura was inky, arms crossed on his chest, showing his excessively veiny arms.
That guy was surely drunk but not enough to risk his own life. He raised his hands in a submissive manner and nodded “Alright, sorry man.” Jake tilted his head “It’s not me you have to apologise to.”
He took a moment to comprehend his words “Oh.” He then turned to you and scratched the back of his neck “I’m sorry.” He didn’t wait for your reply and just walked away.
Your eyes then met Jake’s, filled with wrath “I—“ You said but were met by his hand around your wrist, this time your body not repulsing it as that guy’s and he dragged you inside the hotel.
“Jake, let go.” You tried to fight him but he was stronger, dragging you through the corridors until he reached what would’ve been a storage room, full of pillows and sheets supplies “Let go, it hurts.”
Jake loosened his grip “You really have trouble written on your forehead.” He snapped, his breath heavy as he paced around the room “I can’t look away from you that you’re getting yourself into something bad.”
You frowned at his harsh words “That’s not true.” Jake scowled “Is it not? You either get high or almost—“ He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence.
“Why do you even care anyways?” You said back, brows knitted “You’re the one who used me.”
Jake stopped in his tracks “Used you?” He got closer to you.
“Yes,” You stepped forward as well. “You just used me, made me think you actually cared about me just to rebel against your parents.”
You gulped, your heart breaking again at the memory “Next thing I know, you’re ignoring me and smiling at a pretty girl.”
“Did you fuck her, Jake?” He was taken aback from your words, placing his hands on your shoulders. You shrugged him off, he still remained in your proximity without touching you.
“I think I lost something here, who was I smiling at?” You clicked your tongue, your hands on your waist as you got frustrated.
“That girl, last Saturday.” You explained “Dark hair, killer body, tall… Come on Jake, just admit it you wanted someone to fuck but I didn’t and so you went with someone else.”
“That’s really not what I did. I would never.” He blinked faintly “That girl, she’s Karina, Sunghoon’s sister.” He then added “I don’t like her, not that way.”
You wanted to scowl at him, but his tone was so serious you found yourself asking “..What?”
“You’re not the problem, Y/N.” Jake said, sighing “It’s me, it’s all my fault.”
You shook your head, confused. “What— Jake, I don’t understand.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to help me.” He backed up until his back hit the wall, running a frustrated hand in his hair “I exposed you to my parents— I—“
You moved to him, taking his face in your hand “Stop mumbling.” You ordered “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
Despite the way he treated you in the past week, your touch was still gentle and you worried about him. A spark of hope lit his heart up.
Jake nodded and took a deep breath “My parents… they said that if I didn’t break up with you they’d make yours lose their job. You’d lose your house… I couldn’t do that, Y/N.”
He seemed as if he was slowly loosing his mind. You took in the sight of him, dark circles under his eyes, he looked paler wearing that white shirt. Just what on earth had he been doing?
“They’re powerful, with the amount of money they have they can easily buy your whole neighbourhood and evict you.” He gulped down “So I am preparing to take over the company, to make them happy.”
Your eyes widened at his words, “They threatened you?” You asked, removing your hands from his cheeks to stand properly.
Jake shrugged, “We weren’t together so technically I couldn’t break up with you, but I could stay away if it meant you’d be safe.” He sighed softly, “I told you I’m a bad bet since the first time we met.”
“No,” You shook your head “You aren’t bad, your parents are.”
He scoffed, “And I’m just like them.”
You fisted the collar of his shirt and brought his lips down to yours. He was shocked by your sudden action but he relaxed soon and closed his eyes, kissing you back.
“Say that again and your face will meet my fist.” You breathed out as you pulled away “You don’t get how brave you are? You were about to sacrifice your happiness to save my family… someone you met at a party.”
“You’re not just someone I met at a party.” Jake whispered “In just a couple of days you made my whole life better, you made me realise there’s so much more than what I was used to.”
He placed one hand in your hair, caressing your scalp “I never meant to hurt you, baby.”
Your heart jumped as you heard his whisper, the pet name making your head spin “Later, I want you to explain everything to me everything.” You demanded.
Jake nodded “Everything you want, queen.” Your breath quickened “But for now…” You trailed off and connected your lips again.
You kissed him, roughly and he did it back with the same intensity, having missed the taste of you, the scent of your perfume invading his nostrils, clouding his mind.
“Let me take you home,” He murmured between kisses “In your bedroom.”
You shook your head, stumbling backward and bringing him with you “Can’t wait.”
“You sure about this?” He asked as you got out of the storage room, bodies still tangled “I could be bad, worse than you think.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down on you “Then, I wanna find out.”
Jake let out a small groan and resumed kissing you, blindly reaching a doorknob and praying nobody was inside.
He dragged you in and locked the door behind your backs.
Jake pushed you against the wall as he undid the buttons of his shirt while you unbuckled his belt, your lips never leaving each other.
He discarded his shirt and helped you unzip his jeans, throwing all of them somewhere on the floor.
He then removed the straps of your dress, slowly kissing all the way down your neck to your almost exposed chest. He pulled away, enough to look at the now barely-visible hickey Heeseung did.
Jake let out a deep groan “You don’t know how much this drove me insane.” He commented, trailing his thumb over it
“Yeah?” You asked “Were you jealous?”
“I wanted to rip his head off.” He said, kissing you again “Wanted to cover your whole body with hickeys and my marks, just to let him know who you belong to.”
You nodded, “Do it,” You breathed out “Make me yours, Jake.”
He unconsciously bucked his hips to meet yours, his clothed bulge poking your pussy “Fuck baby, you can’t tell me that.” He whispered, attaching his lips on your neck again.
Jake lowered the dress until it rested on your hips, palming your breasts, growling at the feeling.
You gasped when his lips engulfed your nipple, twirling his tongue round it. Your hand went to grasp his hair while the other slowly lowered his boxers until his painful erection was free.
Jake helped you out of your dress and underwear until you were standing in front of each other naked. “I’ll worship your body another time.” He murmured, trailing his fingers down your chest “For now, I just want to fuck you rough.”
You smirked and shook your head, making Jake widen his eyes “You don’t want this? I can stop.”
“No, I want it.” You stated, slowly sinking on your knees “I just need to show you my skills first.”
That was the hottest thing anyone could’ve done to Jake, his cock twitched in front of you. It was huge, veiny and hard, his mushroom tip looking ever so delicious.
“You see, baby? This is what you do to me.” He pumped his shaft, brushing it on your lips.
“Stick out that tongue for me.” You did as told and stuck your tongue out as Jake laid his cock on it, bucking his hips back and forth. The spongy and warm texture already making it leak with precum.
You played with his balls while you took him whole in your mouth, gagging when it hit the back of your throat. The filthy sounds filled the room as he took a hold of your head, fisting your hair in a makeshift ponytail while he thrusted inside your throat.
“So good.” He panted, his head thrown back and brows knitted.
You twirled your tongue around his cock, pumping it with your hands where your lips couldn’t reach “Sucking my cock so well.”
Before you could even register, Jake pulled out and raised you from your armpits, placing you on the bed.
“I need to feel your pussy.” He stated, rubbing your clit with his thumb “Want to use a condom, baby?” He asked, “Just tell me.”
You shook your head, bringing him down onto you in a heated kiss “Fuck me raw.” He moaned in the kiss and fisted his shaft again, gathering your juices, you got so wet even by just giving him a blow.
He slowly inserted himself in you, the stretch causing you to pant. You weren’t a virgin but he was bigger than the ones you had before, so it took a moment for you to get used to it.
Jake’s thrusts were nice and slow at first, his forehead resting on yours “I can’t resist.” He breathed out, giving a deeper thrust “Please, can I move?”
You nodded your head, trying to breathe steadily. Jake raised from you and spread your legs open while he moved inside you. You grasped your tits, palming them while maintaining eye contact with Jake.
“You don’t know how much I wanted this,” He groaned, pulling out just to spit on your hole to fill it again “Pussy so tight can barely move.”
Your hand went down to rub circles on your clit, trying to make it wetter as his thrusts gained speed.
Jake slapped your hand and commanded “Hands around your ankles.” And so you complied.
He leaned down and kissed you sloppily, his hips moving back and forth at a delicious rhythm. You moaned out loud.
Holding your head up to rest his forehead on it, your eyes still locked with the others as your body connected fanatically, Jake twitched inside of you and halted his movements.
“Fuckk, almost came.” He chuckled, pulling out of you.
“Want to last longer than this.” He took your body and turned you around, you raised yourself on your arms and leaned your ass up.
“You like being fucked in doggy, mh?” He spammed your ass “Looking so eager to be fucked dumb, you won’t think about anything but my cock in you.”
Jake pushed himself inside of you again, making you moan out his name “Yes, that’s me.” He groaned “Say it again.”
“Jake.” You gasped, he fisted your hair, making you arch your back while he rutted your body “Oh, Y/N.” He moaned as well.
Putting one hand around your neck, he squeezed it as he threw his own head back, lost in the pleasure your warm walls were giving you.
“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last long.” He panted, stopping his movements to edge himself “Just fuck me.” You pleaded, frustrated by your own denied orgasm every time he stopped.
“Sorry,” He chuckled, spanking your ass and leaning down to kiss the back of your shoulder “You want to cum?”
You nodded, raising yourself to kiss him passionately as he slowly thrusted inside you “Can you ride me, baby? Pretty please?”
Jake looked so hot, messy bangs sticking to his forehead and heavy breath, you couldn’t do anything but agree to everything he said.
You waited for him to lay down, his back pressed against the headboard of the bed as you straddled him.
You rubbed your wet folds on his hard-on, Jake reached for your tits and squeezed them “Have I ever told you you’re so fucking hot?” He asked.
You chuckled “No, but I already know that.” You winked and raised yourself on your knees, slowly sinking down on his cock.
The stretch was still a little painful, but nothing compared to the pleasure his dick was giving you.
You moved on him, up and down at a slow but deep rhythm, feeling him all as he hit your cervix with each thrust.
Jake moved your hair out of your face, his lips attaching to your boob as if he was a toddler in desperate need of milk.
You moaned, your hands grasping his shoulders as you moved back and forth at a quick speed.
“Oh yes.” He put his hands behind his head and watched as you rode him, your mouth agape, gasping for air while shaky moans escaped your lips “Feels good.”
Your legs started to shake and you could barely keep yourself up as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten “I’ve got you.” Jake noticed and made you lay on his chest, his hands spreading your ass cheeks as he started rutting inside you, his pace so quick you didn’t know it was possible.
Your pussy clenched around his cock, creaming him as you fell apart, your moans loud and whole body shaking.
Jake didn’t stop, he chased his own orgasm which was so close.
“You're just made to please me.” He panted, giving a few more thrusts “You're made to squeeze every drop of cum from my cock.” His eyes rolled back with a low groan as he shot his load, his cock twitching until it emptied in you.
You both stayed there for a while, just trying to steady your breaths and calm your racing hearts.
Jake slowly traced your back with his fingers, a featherlight touch sending shivers all dove your spine.
He pulled out, his cum dripping down from your pussy to your thighs and bedsheets.
Jake helped you sit up and removed a few strands of hair that got stuck to your face “You look gorgeous.” He whispered, earning a smile from you “And you did amazing.”
He cleaned you up and threw the dirty sheets on the floor “I’m sorry for whoever will have to clean them tomorrow.” You commented, grimacing.
“Don’t worry about it,” He soothed, settling himself beside you and holding you on his chest, gently caressing your bare shoulder.
You looked up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You should start making choices for your own happiness, Jake.” You murmured
Jake let out a small sigh “Indeed, I should.” He pressed a kiss on your brow “I want to choose you, not my parents, not anyone else. Only you.” You smiled, “I only want you, too.”
“I’ll find a way to fight my parents, I promise I’ll be stronger this time.” Your eyes softened at his words, you caressed his cheek and he leaned on your palm, melting “Oh Jake, you’re the strongest person I know.” You confessed.
“Really?” He asked, looking like a lost boy, “Really.” You confirmed.
Suddenly, your stomach growled loudly. Jake glanced at his phone he had found in his forgotten jeans and put on the bedside table “It’s late night, ma chérie. You’re hungry?”
You nodded, “I want steak.” Jake snorted at your joke “And I want a burger.” He said back.
“Hanging out with a girl from the other side of the town changed you.” You smirked, nudging his shoulders
“Yeah. For the better.”
THE END.
1K notes · View notes
makoodles · 1 year ago
Text
ミtìohakx
[tI.o."hak’] P F n. hunger
🍓 pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader
🍓 tags: nsfw, tsu'tey pov, misunderstandings, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), reader has nipple piercings, size kink, human x na'vi sex
🍓 wordcount: 18k
masterlist
it's been far too long since i wrote for my grumpy boy, so here were go! tsu'tey is really horny in this one guys lmao i'm sorry
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
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There is something wrong with Tsu’tey.
Like, seriously wrong.
This isn’t necessarily a new sentiment to him; he’s been wondering if there’s something fundamentally broken in him for some time now, as if Sylwanin’s death had damaged him more than he could even tell. In the long and painful years following her death, he never so much as glanced at another woman with passing interest. In fact, he had convinced himself that he was no longer capable of experiencing anything even close to romantic or sexual feelings with anyone other than his first love.
Even when he was betrothed to Neytiri, his feelings never developed past fond friendship. Their mating would have been a duty, albeit one he was content enough to perform if it meant that he could serve the clan and maybe, finally, put some of that awful, bone-deep loneliness behind him. But while he loved Neytiri dearly, he could never drum up any real physical attraction beyond the aesthetic appreciation of knowing that she was a beautiful woman.
And that was fine. Tsu’tey never really had a problem with that. He had mostly resigned himself to never experiencing that kind of love again, even if the thought left him hollow on the inside. He’s always been proud to be the kind of man that throws all he has into all into his community and friendships and duties, but he can’t help but wish things were different. It feels a little as though he’s standing stagnant while everyone around him moves on.
The Omaticaya rebuild when the Sky People leave; families are built, bonds are made, and the People move forward. Everyone but Tsu’tey, it feels.
Tsu’tey, instead, finds himself tragically, humiliatingly preoccupied with matters that would surely never have even occurred to him before the war with the Sky People. Well, only one matter, really.
Instead of doing what is expected of him by finding a mate and settling down, like most other men his age in the clan, Tsu’tey finds himself distracted in a way that is completely unbecoming. He goes through his usual motions of hunting, weaving, carving, training, and yet he feels distant from it all, as though his thoughts and attention are elsewhere.
When he’s not carrying out his duties, he’s mortifyingly distracted by just one of the little sky demons that lingers around the village. You.
It would have been unthinkable for him only a few years ago. Even now, Tsu’tey can’t help but wonder if some essential part of him is broken. It’s the only way he can think to explain why you have captured his attention so completely.
There’s nothing special about you. Tsu’tey’s not completely delusional; he can recognise that you’re just a regular Sky Person, nothing impressive. You can’t hunt, you are bad at weaving, and you look odd. You are so tiny and weak, nothing like the willowy and strong women of his clan.
And yet, all of your odd differences are what end up endearing you to him. Tsu’tey has always felt compelled to protect, to serve his clan and defend his people. You’re small and soft, with your strange little face and pretty eyes, and you have no way of defending yourself. Perhaps that was how his fascination with you had started, but it’s since grown into a tentative… friendship, almost.
You visit the village almost every day, to help out where you can or to accompany Norm or even sometimes (and Tsu’tey sometimes has to centre himself to make sure he’s not reading too much into your alien behaviour) just to spend time with him.
“Hey, big guy,” You call out, like you always do, sashaying your way across the village towards him.
Tsu’tey doesn’t look up from where he’s sitting outside his hut, carving a small wooden bowl. It takes quite a bit of effort to look unaffected and casual, especially when his tail had begun to curve around his legs from the moment he had picked up on your sweet scent on the breeze.
“Demon.” He greets back. He chances a quick glance up at you from beneath his eyelashes, hoping you don’t notice.
Then he does a double take, his head snapping up to look at you again as he completely forgets to feign disinterest.
Tsu’tey is used to having you around the village, and he’s used to stifling his embarrassing attraction towards you as best he can. What he’s not used to is the sight of you wearing such tiny little shorts, or such a tight top. The alien fabric is stretched tight across your breasts and so thin that he can see the subtle shape of your nipples beneath the taut fabric.
His stomach does an odd sort of flip, leaving him dizzy.
It's not that he’s shocked by your body – you are still entirely covered (and he tries to quash the disappointment that niggles in the back of his head), and he has seen many female bodies before.
But this is you, and he has never seen so much of you before. The sky demons are confusingly modest and oddly ashamed about their bodies, which means that Tsu’tey has simply had to tackle his odd embarrassing attraction to you with nothing more than his imagination. To see you now like this feels like a physical blow.
Tsu’tey inhales so sharply that he nearly chokes on his own breath. “Tawtute, what—?”
“You said we could go swimming in the river today.” You say, raising the weird little hairy ridges on your brows.
Ah, he thinks, a little dazed. He had said that. It had been a moment of madness, on his part. He had been trying to come up with an excuse to invite you to spend more time with him, and the added incentive of getting to show off some of his skills to you had made him over-eager and excited.
“Mn.” He grunts, his eyes glancing down over the length of your legs, your soft squishy skin all exposed by your tiny shorts. They’re hitched high on your hips, which draws his eyes to your waist and then up again to your breasts, where your top clings to the soft round shape of them.
His eyes follow your hips as you cock them to the side, your hands landing on the curve of your waist. Damn. He… he should really be familiar with the shape of you, by now. You’ve been a near constant presence in the village since the moment you had made the decision to stay behind on Pandora to live in the shoddy human outpost in the nearby forest.
He knows what you look like. But he’s never really seen you in clothes this tight and small before. It’s stupid. Really stupid. He can’t really explain why the sight of your squishy little thighs in those shorts has turned his thoughts into a pathetic buzzing mush of white noise.
You tilt your head, obviously waiting for him to say something. Your eyes are all shiny, looking at him with an expectant smile.
“Yes.” Tsu’tey swallows thickly, forcing himself to his feet. “You wish to swim.”
The thought is a little thrilling. Perhaps he will even be able to catch a few fish in front of you as well. Showing off physical prowess is just one way of impressing a potential mate, and while it’s not initially what he had intended with the offer, the idea of putting on a mating display for you makes excited heat simmer low in his belly.
“Well, you offered.” You remind him, biting at your lower lip under your mask. Your mouth looks all glossy and wet, more so than usual; he wants to touch your lips more than anything.
“Yes. I offered.” He nods, looking down at you as you stand in front of him.
Ah, the height difference is going to his head a little – your face is just level with his belly button, your head tilted all the way back so that you can gaze up at him. His cock twitches at the sight.
“Come.” Tsu’tey says, trying to shake off his distraction before he embarrasses himself.
Just like always, you happily follow after him as he leads the way away out of the village towards the forest. He glances over his shoulder a couple of times, just to make sure that you’re still there.
“I was thinking that after swimming, we could go for a walk,” You say, your little legs working overtime in an attempt to keep up with him. “I’ve been craving that fruit you let me try last time. You know, the one that looks like a blue balloon, but is pink on the inside and really sweet?”
He slows down so that you can keep pace with him more easily, his eyes drawn down to you as you walk. You don’t seem to be wearing your strange little chest covering that usually covers your breasts under your other top, which means that your soft breasts are bouncing lightly with every step you take. Tsu’tey nearly trips over his own feet when he notices, because now it’s like he can’t keep his eyes off you.
The Sky People are demons, a plague on his planet and his people. But you are so bright and sweet, always excited to see him and spend time with him. And your soft body is so different to the Na’vi women he’s used to – you have so much give to you, squishy and bouncy where Na’vi women are firm and lean, especially in places like your thighs and breasts and little tummy. Tsu’tey has never struggled with his self-discipline as much as he does around you.
“Kllpxiwll.” He says, his voice coming out a little less strong than he’d like. “Yes. We can walk later.”
You beam at him, making his tail lash around his ankles. Your cheeks squish up when you smile like that, and his fingers itch with the desire to squeeze at your face.
“Great!” You say brightly, before reaching out to take his hand in yours.
This time, Tsu’tey really does trip. He manages to regain his balance quickly enough that there’s a chance you didn’t notice, but then he looks down at you with wide eyes. Your hand is so small, your little slender fingers curling around his much larger palm, and Tsu’tey swears his heart skips over a beat at the feeling.
Ah, you need his hand for the balance – you hold tight to him as he helps you step over logs and through the long glowing grass between the huge trees. You use your grip on him both as leverage to climb over some of the obstacles before you and to make sure that Tsu’tey keeps his pace slow that you can keep up.
You even glance up at him, your expression uncertain and a little vulnerable, as though you’re unsure how he’s going to react to your touch. He can understand why; he’s never been shy about letting his distaste for your kind known.
 But you’re different. He wonders if you know it – you must know, right? It must be obvious to you, how he looks at you with starry, moronic eyes.
He looks away, struggling to keep his expression cool and neutral. He lets you hold his hand but doesn’t squeeze back, nervous about how tiny your hand is in his and how he might hurt you without even meaning to.
After a moment or two you withdraw your hand, biting at your lip as a small frown tugs at your brow.
When the two of you reach the river, Tsu’tey turns to you and waits. He feels as though he’s holding his breath, watching and waiting as his stomach turns flips. He feels antsy and itchy, his fingers twitching as he forces his face to remain as still as possible.
You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head as your mouth twitches in amusement. “Is there a reason you’re glaring at me like that, babe?”
Tsu’tey frowns reflexively; you’re always calling him strange little nicknames that he doesn’t understand, and he’s yet to decide whether he likes them or not. He decides to focus on the other part of your sentence.
“I am not glaring.” He protests, though he doesn’t relax his face. This expression mostly comes naturally to him, and he doesn’t really want you to see him open and mushy anyway. “I am—I am looking.”
“Okay,” You drawl, drawing the word out. “Looking at me?”
“No. Get in the water.” He says, and it accidentally comes out sounding like an order.
He’s lucky you’re used to his brash manner and blunt attitude, because you just roll your eyes at him instead of taking offence. That’s part of the reason he finds you so lovely, always so sweet and bright even when he makes a mess of communicating with you. His tail coils, so relieved that he hasn’t messed this up yet with you.
When your small hands reach for the button on your tiny shorts, Tsu’tey can’t help but stare. You push the strange rough blue material down over your thighs, and he takes a steadying breath through his nose as you push them down to your ankles.
It’s the first time he’s seen you so exposed, so vulnerable – so… human. Your body is perfect. Beautiful. Soft and curvier than a Na’vi woman, so much smaller than him. He feels a little guilty about the way he’s looking at you so lecherously, but he can’t seem to stop.
He feels his mouth go dry, but he can't bring himself to look away. He's never seen you like this, and he'd never forgive himself if he missed this opportunity just to look.
You step out of your shorts, left in just that thin white top and tiny bottoms that he has heard you call ‘panties’ before. They are small, more revealing than the loincloths worn by his people, so thin and dainty. They cling to you, and Tsu’tey swears he feels his thoughts dissolve into pure nothingness at the realisation that he can practically see the outline of your—
“You’re coming too, right?”
Tsu’tey blinks, a little dazed. When he speaks, his voices comes out a little too sharp yet again. “What?”
You’re looking at him, your eyebrows raised and scrunched a little as you stare at him. You’re confused, he realises, and it takes a moment to realise that it must look as though he’s been glaring at you yet again.
It’s just... That... is a lot of skin. It feels illicit in a way that he’s not used to, because he doesn’t normally see this much of you. It feels like human modesty is now rotting his brain if this is how he’s reacting to just the sight of your bare legs.
“You good?” You ask, and you sound a little uncertain now. “You look… you look kinda angry.”
Tsu’tey manages a grunt, but he doesn’t trust himself to actually speak. His tongue feels too big for his mouth, and he’s sure his words will just come out clumsy and thick. He glances away from you before picking at the ties of his battle band around his waist, drawing it away from him and settling it aside in the phosphorescent moss. He feels naked without it, though he doesn’t remove his tewng.
“I am not angry.” He says at last, pleased with how steady he sounds.
You just hum, and step away from him towards the water. He watches you go, his gaze trailing over all your soft flesh. This cannot be normal. Human women are not supposed to be this attractive, and Na'vi men are certainly not meant to be attracted to them.
And yet... he can't resist sneaking glances at you whenever the opportunity presents itself. Your bare skin, your soft body, your bouncing breasts, your lips... you’re driving him mad. His twitching cock beneath his loincloth means that there is no chance of pretending he doesn’t know how attracted he is to you.
You step into the water, letting out a breathy noise of surprise at the temperature. “Oh, it’s cold!”
He watches you walk ahead of him into the river, his eyes are drawn to your hips, then your waist, then... he feels his face grow hot. Get a grip, Tsutey. You're being ridiculous.
But... oh Eywa...
Tsu’tey just breathes. He closes his eyes for a moment, just to collect himself. He’s being an idiot. He’s better than this; he is a warrior, a hunter, he has been trained for leadership and has fought alongside Toruk Makto. There is no good reason for a human woman to bring him to his damn knees like this.
You wade in a little deeper, until the running river water gurgles around your thighs. Then a little further, until the current is rippling around the bare skin of your waist. Then you keep going, until you’re submerged up to your neck, and you’re making a scrunched up little face as you hiss through your teeth.
“Shit! How can the water be this cold when it’s so hot out!” You complain again, your nose all wrinkled.
Oh.. you’re just adorable. Tsu’tey feels his fingers twitching again, wanting so badly to touch and squeeze and pinch.
You glance back over at him, and give him an odd little look. “Hey, are you coming? I didn’t come here just to swim by myself!”
Tsu’tey stumbles slightly as he makes his way to the edge of the water. Fuck, he’s just a mess of warring emotions right now. All he seems to be able to do is stare at you with hot, hungry eyes.
He glances away again, unable to keep looking at you any longer. He takes a deep breath and dives into the water, keeping his body straight as an arrow as he spears through the water and surfaces only a few feet from you.
The water is cold, but he finds it refreshing. It shocks some awareness back into him, makes him feel a little more normal and less stunned.
You squeal with laughter as his dive splashes you, throwing your head back as you bob in the water nearby. You paddle a little closer to him, swimming a little deeper until you’re treading water next to him.
“It is cold.” He breathes. It’s the only thing he can think of to say that’s even mildly intelligent, yet it sounds like it falls entirely flat.
But you just giggle as though he’s told a wonderful, highly intelligent joke. His ears twitch, relishing the sound of your laughter.
Tsu'tey swallows thickly, his eyes drawn down to your chest. Your thin white top has turned translucent, and clings to the soft shape of your breasts. Through the thin wet fabric, he can see the prominent shape of your nipples.
“I’ve been looking forward to this swim all day,” You’re saying, blissfully unaware Tsu’tey going through his crisis right at your side. “It’s been hot – honestly, the cold water is a bit of a relief, right?”
“Mngh.” Tsu’tey makes an odd grunting noise, before inhaling sharply and tearing his gaze away from you.
He dips down, allowing the river water to engulf him as it rushes over his head. He half-heartedly hopes he drowns, too, but that thought only lasts a moment before he resurfaces and takes a deep, grounding breath.
He can do this. It’s fine. He enjoys spending time with you, especially when he gets to steal you away from the village and the outpost and gets to enjoy your company away from all the curious eyes of the clan. He likes the feeling of having you all to himself.
He swims with you for a while, enjoying the feeling of the water current running over his skin and stealing looks at you as often as he can without you noticing.
You’re so small and soft, and you look pretty in the glow of the sunlight filtering through the trees that shelter the river. He swallows thickly. It feels like he’s witnessing something he never imagined he’d be allowed to see. Your hips. Your waist. Your soft thighs. Your… everything. Fuck, he wants you.
Eventually, you tire, and paddle your way back to the riverbank. Tsu’tey follows as if he’s been magnetised, orbiting nearby you as you clamber your way back onto the sand. Then you lay out on the bank in the sun to dry off, and Tsu’tey feels his pulse throbs hot and heavy in his throat.
He climbs out after you, his tail swinging low as his eyes trail over your figure. Your wet clothes cling to you, the soft fabric of your panties sticking to your hips and your translucent white top revealing almost everything to him.
He settles next to you, unable to look away from the way your nipples are firm and stiff where they're pressing against the thin top. Then his brow furrows, and he cocks his head.
“Tawtute…” He murmurs before he can think better of it, laying on his side as he looks down at you. “I.. may I ask you a… question?”
“Mhm. Of course.” You say without opening your eyes, enjoying the gentle heat of the sun warming your skin.
Tsu’tey swallows, wonders very briefly if he should keep his thoughts to himself, but his curiosity burns at him. He knows very little about Sky People, and he’s never truly felt any real impulse to learn more. But you’re laying next to him right now, and he finds himself very intrigued indeed about your body and possible… physical differences between you.
“It—Sky People bodies are different to ours,” He says. He attempts to keep his voice steady and as confident as possible, and possibly overcompensates by simply scowling. “It looks—it looks as though you have more nipples than we do. Why is that?”
Your eyes fly open, wide and startled beneath the clear material of your mask, and you stare up at him for a long moment of bewilderment. “I—excuse me?”
Tsu'tey flounders for a moment, thrown off by your tone, heat rushing to his face. "It looks as though—”
You glance down at yourself as he gestures clumsily at your chest, barely covered in your translucent white human fabric. Your expression clears as realisation hits, and then you bite your lip as though you’re trying not to laugh.
“Oh.” You breathe, placing your hand over your breasts. “No, sweetheart. They’re just—they’re just pierced.”
Tsu’tey stares at you uncomprehendingly. “Pierced?”
You nod, and Tsu’tey blinks. The revelation takes him by surprise, though he’s still not entirely certain what you mean by it. Human women pierce their nipples? To him, your breasts are already the most beautiful thing in the world. Why would you want to poke holes through them? What is the thought process behind that?
"Why?" he finally asks, his tone bewildered. "What is the purpose?"
“It’s not.. it’s not that there’s a purpose..” You trail off.
In the ensuing silence you stare at him, as though begging him to understand what you mean, before apparently realising that he isn’t going to. You bite your lip, then glance around as though checking that you’re still alone with him.
“I guess… well, nudity’s not a big deal for Na’vi, right?” You murmur, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your top. “Is it alright if I take this off?”
Nudity certainly isn’t a big deal to his people, not in the way it is for any of the tawtute. The Na’vi are comfortable in their bodies, and so the strange modesty of the Sky People is completely foreign to him. He has seen female breasts every day of his life, the chest coverings worn by the women of his people designed to decorate rather than conceal, and yet he has never in his life been filled with such an all-consuming desire to see a pair of tits before.
“Yes.” He says immediately, keeping his face as cool and unreadable as possible in an attempt at hiding his sheer desperation. “It is no ‘big deal’.”
You hesitate another moment, looking shy and a little embarrassed as you fidget with the hem of your top.
His focus is fully on you now, all his senses trained firmly on the sight of you. The desire to see what lies beneath that flimsy garment is becoming overwhelming.
Let me see, He thinks to himself. Just let me see, and maybe I'll finally be satisfied.
Finally, finally, you tug your top up and off. Tsu’tey inhales so deeply and sharply he nearly chokes on it. His eyes are drawn to your bare chest, transfixed. Your breasts are soft and squishy, perfectly shaped. And for the first time, he sees the small silver bars nestled into your nipples, which are firmed up after the cold of the water. They glitter in the sunlight, capturing his attention and holding it in a vice.
Oh, no, He thinks desperately, feeling a pang of desire deep in his loins. Far from satisfy him, the sight has only made him hunger for more. He wants to touch, especially the odd metal that glitters at your breasts.
“See?” You ask, as if he could have ever missed the sight before him. “My piercings.”
“Mmm.” Tsu’tey manages to get out. His voice is deeper than he had intended, and a little stiff. “I see them.”
You smile, as though you’re waiting for a reaction, but Tsu’tey is a little struck dumb. He watches the light of the sun shining on your wet skin, the way your breasts gently swell and fall with each exhalation of your breath, the subtle gleam of the silver of your piercings. The longer he goes without reacting, the more your expectant smile begins to fade.
“What are they for?” He manages to swallow thickly as he asks.
The question makes you laugh, which isn’t a reaction he had intended but is certainly a sound that he always cherishes.
“They’re not really for anything,” You murmur, reaching up to touch your own breast. “They’re just meant to look good, I guess.”
 Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly, and he wants so badly to replace your hand with his much larger one; he knows you would look so small beneath his palms. He glances swiftly at your face, and wonders if you would be upset if he touches the little silver bars that decorate your tits.
“This is… this is what is considered attractive to Sky People?” He asks. It comes out in a croak; too much of his energy is being diverted to trying to keep his hands still and to himself.
Your smile begins to fade again, your brow creasing. “Um… sometimes, I guess. You don’t.. uh, you don’t think so?”
That is a loaded question. How is he supposed to answer that when you’re laying on the riverbank beside him with only a thin, wet scrap of fabric covering your most intimate parts? He already feels as though most of the blood in his body had redirected downwards; his cock is pulsing, enough so that he can’t actually think anymore.
All he can do is grunt like a damn talioang. Your face falls further.
“I guess they must seem kinda strange.” You murmur. You must be growing self-conscious, because you start to cover your chest with your arms.
The sight of you trying to cover that perfect view from him sends a bolt of panic through him, and he just stops short of tearing your hands away again.
“You do not have to cover,” He says quickly, before he can think about it. “Like you said, it—nudity means little to us. I do not care.”
“Right.” You say, your voice gone a little bland. “It means nothing to you.”
Tsu’tey knows that your attitude has changed, fallen a little flat. But you’re laying right there, soft and small and squishy, displaying more of your bare flesh than he has ever seen from you, and he can’t pull his thoughts together.
He feels no better than the moronic young warriors that push each other around and whisper nonstop about the women of the clan. He is a skilled warrior, an excellent hunter, and a good provider for the whole clan – he is also experienced with women, so he can’t understand why the sight of you is turning him into a hormonal teenager again.
“Nothing.” He agrees stupidly, still struggling not to be too obvious with his staring.
You purse your lips, but drop your arms all the same. Tsu’tey tries not to goggle.
Oh no, He thinks miserably to himself as he watches the little barbells in your nipples sparkle in the sun. I really am broken.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
Tsu’tey is quite certain that he’s made a fool of himself in front of you.
He’s never been good at expressing himself or his emotions, and his attraction to you scares him as much as it excites him. He alternates between reticence and putting his foot in his mouth, between being unable to meet your gaze and being unable to look away.
He probably looks deranged. He feels deranged.
To make it worse, he knows that his interest in you is obvious to anyone in the clan that watches him interact with you for even a short time. He feels the eyes on him all the time, watching, often looking vaguely sympathetic, which is somehow worse than the horror he had been expecting.
Mercifully no one has said anything to him just yet. At least, no one of any great importance.
“So, you’re telling me that she was laid out next to you, practically naked, just to show off her pierced tits, and you did nothing?” Jakesully demands, his voice like the constant droning buzz of an irritating insect in Tsu’tey’s ear.
Tsu’tey chews sullenly at some roasted teylu, trying and failing to tune his Olo’eyktan out so that he can enjoy his meal.
“Come on, man, seriously.” Jakesully is nudging him now, like an infernal pest. “She took off all her clothes for you, and you didn’t try to—”
“Ma Jake, there are children here.” Neytiri says primly from Jakesully’s other side. She has also been trying her best to ignore her mate, rocking the baby in her lap, but now she sends him a warning glance. The sting of her glare is dulled due to the fact that she’s visibly trying not to laugh.
“Sleeping babies, they got no idea what I’m talking about.” Jake says dismissively, though he adjusts baby Kiri in his arms and leans into his wife’s side all the same.
Tsu’tey shifts where he’s sitting next to him, and allows his gaze to wander across the gathering. He is still waiting to catch sight of you, to see you approaching from across the campfire.
“I’m just saying, man, you’re so obviously into each other that it’s actually painful to watch—”
Tsu’tey grunts irritably. “I am not discussing this.”
“You like her, and she’s all over you!” Jakesully insists. In his arms, Kiri starts to gurgle, and Jake hurriedly raises her up to his shoulder to rub at her little back.
“She is my friend.” Tsu’tey says stubbornly, focusing on his dinner.
Jakesully scoffs. “I’m your friend, but you don’t see me sitting in your lap or holding your hand or getting naked—”
“We are not friends.” Tsu’tey scoffs.
“Ouch,” Jake drawls, rolling his eyes. “Damn, man. I thought we were close.”
 Tsu’tey grumbles, scowling into the distance. The irritating thing is, he thinks that he and Jake are close. Admittedly, they still have their rocky moments; Jakesully has earned Tsu’tey’s respect, but he is also an infuriating man and Tsu’tey has always been easy to rile. But… despite their frequent bickering, Tsu’tey has come to trust his judgements.
Tsu’tey purses his lips and picks at the remaining teylu in his small carved bowl. “You… think that she may return my feelings?”
Jake groans, holding the baby with one hand as he covers his face with the other. “You’re killing me here.”
On Jake’s other side, baby Neteyam starts to fuss in Neytiri’s arms. She sighs, pressing a kiss to her son’s chubby cheek before beginning to rock him gently. She’s been listening with as much patience as she’s capable of, though the whole conversation has been punctuated with her eyerolls and scornful hisses.
“Why do you not talk with her, Tsu’tey?” Neytiri asks in a tone that suggests she thinks both men are idiots. “Explain how you feel to her.”
Tsu’tey just gives her a look of disbelief. It’s like she doesn’t know him at all. When has he ever talked about his feelings before? He prefers to just feel things intensely and then shove it all down very deep until it inevitably bursts right out of him.
It’s been a long time since he’s felt like this; not since he was a teenager fumbling his way through his feelings with Sylwanin. It’s especially embarrassing to know that it’s a sky demon that’s eliciting this reaction from him, and that his closest friends are witnesses to his humiliation.
“I am going to sit with the other tsamsiyu,” Tsu’tey sniffs, pushing himself up from the log. “Perhaps they will have some more intelligent conversation.”
Neytiri scoffs, sounding more scornful than offended. “I doubt it.”
“Besides,” Jake adds, grinning at him over Kiri’s little downy-haired head. “Here comes your little bestie.”
Tsu’tey nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns his head, and surely enough there you are. You’re stepping across the gathering, smiling politely at one of the old women who says something to you as you pass by her.
He hastily sinks back down beside Jake, ignoring his pointed snickers.
The closer you get, the more details Tsu’tey can see. You’re all neat and clean, still wearing those tiny shorts. But you’re wearing a different top now, this one green like the verdant leaves of the trees that tower overhead, and now he can see that you’re wearing your odd little breast covering under your top. It pushes your soft breasts up and together in a way that’s very enticing, although he is admittedly a little disappointed by the way your strange little decorated nipples are hidden beneath the padding.
“Hey, big guy.” You call out, your voice as cheerful and bright as always.
Tsu’tey’s ears twitch towards you eagerly, his nerves lighting up at the sound of your voice.
“Tawtute—” He begins to greet, but immediately chokes as you reach them and promptly climb right into his lap.
Oh fuck. His every muscle tightens, and all of his thoughts are frozen at the feel of your soft body moulding to his – you’re so small and so squishy, your soft body yielding so easily to the hard muscle of his chest.
He goes to grab at your hips as you nestle yourself into the cradle of his thighs, before panicking and grabbing at his own legs instead. He grips at his thighs harshly, his nails digging into his own skin hard enough to almost draw blood.
“Hello.” He manages to get out, sounding thick and a little stupid.
“Hi.” You reply, smiling up at him as though you think his inability to speak is adorable.
“Jesus Christ.” Jake mutters from off to the side.
Tsu’tey bares his teeth at him from over your head, but Jake is too busy sharing suggestive looks with Neytiri to even notice.
You shift, and he nearly swallows his tongue when your soft bottom settles neatly over his crotch. He panics as he feels blood rush south, and he hurriedly grabs at your hips to shift you from his crotch to his thigh, hoping that you hadn't felt his body respond in arousal.
“I—I have something for you,” He blurts, grabbing for the small carved wooden bowl he had set carefully by his side; he’s just been waiting for you to arrive. “I collected kllpxiwll berries for you earlier.”
Your eyes widen beneath your breathing mask, a pretty smile brightening up your face. “Oh, these are my favourite.”
“Yes, I know.” Tsu’tey says. His hands are still resting on your hips, enjoying how delicate you feel perched in his lap, but he feels a thin thread of panic underlying his delight. You’re so fragile, and he’s so terrified that his big rough hands will hurt you accidentally.
As you settle your bottom back onto his leg again with the bowl in your hands, he does what he does best and shoves his feelings deep, deep down. He will not allow himself to be driven mad by his desire for a human, however soft and warm and pretty you may be.
“Wow,” Jake drawls from his side. “That was really kind of you, Tsu’tey.”
"It is nothing." he replies, his voice coming out rough. "You are my friend."
It makes him want to bite his own tongue off to have you like this against him, but he forces a relaxed grin anyway. He can feel that it comes out strained, because inside he feels like he’s losing his mind. Your closeness is intoxicating, and he cannot stop himself from brushing his free hand against your thigh.
But you’ve tensed in his lap, the little bowl held tight in your lap. Under your mask, you’ve started to frown.
“Your friend.” You repeat blandly.
Jake winces at his side, and Tsu’tey suspects that he’s already put his foot in his mouth. But your soft, plump ass is seated so damn close to his cock beneath his tewng that he just can’t think straight.
“Yes.” He says dumbly. “We are friends.”
You purse your lips and look back down at the bowl of kllpxiwll berries, picking at them distractedly. “Right.”
Tsu’tey’s tail curls, uncomfortable with your sudden silence. Are you angry with him? His eyes drop down to the fruit he had gathered for you, his stomach sinking. Is it not to your liking?
“Do you not like the kllpxiwll?” He asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and get a glimpse of your face.
He can vaguely hear Neytiri make a sound of pure derision off to the side, but he’s trying his hardest to block both Jake and Neytiri out.
“It’s nice.” You say, though you don’t sound very enthused.
Tsu’tey frowns, but then you move to get comfortable and your ass nestles itself right over the ridge of his hardened cock and he swears that his vision tunnels and turns entirely dark for a second. He panics, then grabs at your hips out of pure reflex and bodily lifts you off of him.
You yelp, obviously startled, your arms windmilling as Tsu’tey thrusts you at Jake before leaping to his feet. He can see the way Jake is staring at him as though he doesn’t know whether he should laugh or not, and the way that Neytiri looks faintly disbelieving, and the way that you look all ruffled and startled as you look up at him as though waiting for an explanation for why you’ve just been so unceremoniously booted off his lap.
“Sorry, I—” Tsu’tey begins, his throat tight and much too dry as he tries desperately to come up with an excuse that has nothing to do with his dick. “You were too heavy.”
Jake’s face screws up in yet another wince before he buries his face in baby Kiri’s shoulder as though he can’t bear to watch Tsu’tey humiliate himself.
You’re still staring up at him from where he had inadvertently dumped you on the ground, your face the picture of confusion and hurt. “I’m too—what?”
Tsu’tey dithers for a moment, feeling terribly exposed. Why had he stood up? It’s only a matter of time before both you and Jake notice that he’s had a very physical reaction to you sitting perched in his lap. Neytiri has already noticed, though she’s been kind enough to direct her gaze pointedly skywards.
“I will fetch you water.” He blurts, before turning on his heel and positively fleeing.
It’s a coward’s move, leaving you confused on the ground like that, but he feels as though if he doesn’t get away from your smooth skin and pretty smile he’s going to drown.
You’re just a human, he tells himself over and over. You’re not supposed to be that attractive. You’re not supposed to do that to me. That was just me being weak.
Tsu’tey only pauses when he’s on the very edge of the gathering, taking a moment to breathe.
You’ve always been such an affectionate little thing, but his nerves can’t take so much physical contact from you. You have no idea how much restraint he is attempting to exert, how difficult it is not to press his face into your throat and leave his scent behind all over you, or to keep his hands to himself instead of allowing them to wander all over your plush skin.
But he doesn’t want to make a move on you; harbouring these desires for a Sky Person is bad enough, but the possibility of being rejected is even worse. Both because of the humiliation of rejection, and because Tsu’tey doesn’t know what he’ll do if you decide it’s too awkward to be around him anymore. He doesn’t actually know what you want from him. You had laid out almost naked next to him, but you hadn’t made any advances either. He isn’t even sure if you like him or if the Great Mother just has a cruel sense of humour.
Tsu’tey is a little clumsy when he grabs at a waterskin, glancing across the gathering. Even from this distance, he can see the unhappy frown on your face as you speak with Jake, who is visibly trying to appease you. Neytiri has taken both of the babies in her arms, tucking Neteyam into the woven net carrier on her chest so that she can hold Kiri in the crook of her elbow as Jake speaks to you.
Tsu’tey winces a little and glances away again, reluctant to watch the aftermath of his outburst unfold.
A few of the warriors nearby are drinking fermented pasuk liquor, and Tsu’tey wordlessly takes a skin and takes a long gulp of it. His silent drinking earns him a couple of odd looks, but none of them seem willing to comment on it and he’s too busy drinking and trying to ignore the ache in his crotch to explain himself.
“Are you well, Tsu’tey?” One of them finally asks, a little hesitantly.
“Fine.” Tsu’tey says brusquely. His manner does not invite any further questions, and his peers fall obligingly silent. “I am taking this.”
He clutches the skin as he prepares to return to his place at the cookfire beside you, though he pauses to take another drink before he goes anywhere. From this distance, you look a little calmer; you’re listening closely to whatever Jake is saying, nodding with a little frown of concentration.
“Tsu’tey?”
He nearly jumps out of his damn skin. He had been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed the soft-footed approach of Saeyla, who has come up on his other side.
“Saeyla.” He greets, his ears pinning back in apprehension.
Saeyla smiles, but doesn’t blink. The effect is unnerving, and gives the impression of a predator watching him. He takes another deep drink from the skin, hoping that perhaps it will help him come up with some way to salvage his pride.
“You look stressed, karyu.” She notes, taking a careful step closer.
Tsu’tey tenses, his brow drawing into his usual scowl. “I am not your karyu anymore. You have passed your iknimaya.”
Saeyla just nods, still smiling a little. The air between them feels uncomfortable, but Tsu’tey wonders if he’s the only one that notices. He still feels rather awkward about how he had rejected Saeyla so harshly that night she had approached him beneath the Tree of Souls. He does not regret rejecting her, but he does feel as though he could have perhaps done so a little more gently than he had.
But while Saeyla has been avoiding him in the months since, it seems that now she is starting to get over some of the hurt he had inadvertently caused. It is a relief to see that she has decided to take a mature approach.
“I was wondering if you could help me,” She says, tilting her head. “One of the beams in my kelku collapsed, and it is too heavy for me to lift by myself.”
From the other side of the gathering, Tsu’tey can see you get to your feet and a bolt of panic shoots through him. Why are you standing? Where are you going? Are you leaving?
“Uh, yes,” Tsu’tey says distractedly, beginning to step away from Saeyla and back towards where he had left you. “I can help.”
“Later? After the gathering?” Saeyla asks, beginning to follow him.
“Yes, yes, later.” Tsu’tey agrees, waving her off before hurriedly leaving her behind.
Walking through the dinner gathering is like attempting an obstacle course, and Tsu’tey is distracted as he tries to avoid stepping on the tails of the gathered clan. Luckily, many seem to sense his urgency, and they sweep their tails close to their bodies as they watch Tsu’tey hurry back over to where he’d left you with Jake and Neytiri.
“Tawtute,” He says when he reaches you again, his ears pinning back. “Your water.”
You look a little surprised at his abrupt return, though you bite your lip and take the waterskin he’s offering all the same. “Oh.. thank you.”
As you pull your mask up and raise the waterskin to your mouth to take a sip, Tsu’tey spares a glance at Jake and Neytiri. Their expressions are about what he had expected; Jake still looks as though he’s trying not to laugh, while Neytiri looks distinctly pitying. Tsu’tey winces, and quickly looks away again.
You’ve only just taken a sip of the water he’s brought you when you choke on it, coughing and spluttering. “Oh— what the fuck—” You gasp, hurriedly fixing your mask back over your face as you heave for breath.
Tsu’tey’s stomach sinks, glancing at the skin that he had handed to you and then at the second one still in his hand.
“Uh—wrong one.” He grunts, snatching the skin of pasuk liquor back out of your hand before handing you the other one that’s filled with water. “… Sorry.”
You’re staring at him with some disbelief now, your eyes watering a little from the strength of the alcohol beneath your exo-mask. “Have you been drinking?”
“No.” Tsu’tey scowls, then amends, “A little.”
You goggle at him with a look of faint astonishment, before you turn to look at Jake. Tsu’tey shifts, feeling rather unfairly jealous, and scowls when he sees you and Jake share a significant look.
“Right.” You say. You sound a little stiff, but you manage to conjure up a sweet smile all the same. “Well. I’m, uh, I’m going to head back to the outpost.”
“Oh.” Tsu’tey says. He hides his disappointment the best that he can, keeping his face still as his tail curls down by ankles.
“But, maybe you could walk me home?” You continue, your eyelashes batting at him.
For the first time, Tsu’tey realises that you look a little different. Your eyelashes are darker and longer, your skin tone smoothed out and even, your cheekbones a little shiny. Your lips look plumper and glossier too, a little redder than their natural tone.
He blinks at you, distracted and a little flustered by your appearance.
“Yes.” He says moronically, hastily passing off the skin full of liquor to Jake, who looks at it in bewilderment.
That makes you brighten, and you reach for his hand hesitantly as though you think he may pull away from you. Tsu’tey watches the way your small fingers intertwine with his much thicker ones, and feels his pupils expand as his tail coils in excitement.
He’s aware of the glances and whispers he’s getting from the rest of the gathered clan, and the irritating eyebrow wiggles he’s getting from Jake, the wolfish yet encouraging grins he’s getting from the warriors that he had taken the alcohol from, but he’s not focusing on any of it. All of his attention is directed towards you as you lead the way towards the forest.
“You look… nice tonight.” He murmurs, low enough that it’s just you that can hear. It comes out awkward, but he means it genuinely.
You glance up at him, and your face relaxes into a smile. You look so damn sweet, clinging to his hand and beaming at him. His heart is thudding hard enough against his chest that he swears it should be visible from the outside, and his own mouth twitches into a hesitant smile in return.
“Yeah?” You ask, your little white teeth gleaming in the remnants of the firelight as you lead the way towards the forest. “I put on a little makeup to come see you.”
Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, but he likes the idea of you doing something specially for him. He feels rather smug as he follows along after you, taking small steps to try to match your pace.
The two of you have only just reached the treeline when Tsu’tey hears a call of his name, and he pauses and glances over his shoulder to see that it’s Saeyla. She’s jogging after him, her ears pricked high in interest.
“Tsu’tey,” She says with a coy smile. “You are still coming to my kelku later?”
You pause at his side, turning to watch her approach. Tsu’tey feels flustered, though he can’t put his finger on why. Your gaze is intense when it comes to rest on the side of his face, waiting for his response.
“Yes, later.” Tsu’tey agrees, eager to be rid of her.
Saeyla smiles, satisfied, her eyes drifting once to you at his side before she turns and saunters away.
Pleased to be alone with you once more, Tsu’tey turns back to you. He can hardly contain his feelings; his ears keep twitching, his tail is coiling and flicking in anticipation, and he can’t tear his eyes away from you. It’s so far from his usual demeanour that it’s embarrassing, but you don’t seem to notice; you’ve never been very good at picking up on Na’vi body language.
You let go of his hand and start walking again faster than Tsu’tey had been expecting, and he jolts into action to try and catch up with you. Your lips are pursed, all glossy and very appealing, and Tsu’tey almost walks into a low-hanging tree bough as he’s staring at you.
His desire for you is simmering at a low boil in his belly, impossible to ignore. It makes him ungainly, clumsy with his limbs and his words, makes him uncharacteristically stupid.
How is he supposed to pursue this? The ways of Sky People confuse him, though he has tried his best to understand you and your ways of thinking. He doesn’t know the customs of human mating, and he doesn’t want to accidentally harm or offend you. Perhaps he would be better off waiting for you to make an advance, but to even think of you making such a move makes him feel so... vulnerable. It's terrifying.
It takes a few moments to realise that he’s been so lost in his own thoughts that he hasn’t noticed the silence that’s settled between the two of you. He clears his throat and increases his pace so that he’s fallen in stride with you.
“You are quiet, tawtute.” He says carefully, questioningly.
He’s not expecting you to scoff, nor shoot him such a bland, unimpressed stare.
“Are you being serious?” You demand.
Tsu’tey blinks. He’s surprised by your sudden change in mood, and wonders if he should be treading carefully now. These sudden attitude changes are bewildering; is this a human thing?
“Yes,” He says slowly. “I am being serious.”
“Unbelievable.” You mutter, promptly speeding up once more.
You don’t get very far – your legs are comically shorter than his, and it takes very little effort to keep up with you.
The outpost is not far from the village, and even with your short legs the two of you arrive at it in no time. To Tsu’tey’s confusion, you march up to the entrance with hardly a second glance at him.
“Tawtute—?” He begins, stepping after you as you ascend the little steps up to the door.
You whirl, startling him into taking a little step back.
“You’re going to Saeyla’s after this?” You demand.
Tsu’tey stares at you, wondering if you’ve gone mad. Why are you asking him this when you had been present for the conversation?
“Yes.” He says slowly. “She asked me to.”
You purse your lips again. “Saeyla, your old student?”
“Yes.” Tsu’tey repeats, beginning to frown.
“Saeyla, who asked you to mate?”
“There is only one Saeyla in the clan.” Tsu’tey points out, a little confused.
Your nostrils flare, and he realises a moment too late that you do not like that answer at all. He flounders for a moment, trying to find a way to salvage the conversation, but he doesn’t fully understand what you’re irritated about.
“She asked for help,” He says, keeping his voice low. “She wishes for help with her kelku.”
“No doubt.” You say archly, your eyes narrowing. “I guess she’s a friend of yours as well.”
Tsu’tey would not have gone so far as to call Saeyla a friend, but he supposes that she had made an extra effort to approach him to mend some of the awkwardness between them. Tsu’tey had always interpreted their relationship as a mentor-student one, so her abrupt confession the night before the clan had gone to war with the Sky People had taken him entirely by surprise.
“In a way.” He says, unsure how to express all of that.
Your funny little alien face seems to tremble for a moment, settling into an odd expression. Not for the first time, Tsu’tey wishes you had proper ears and a tail so that it would be easier for him to tell what you’re thinking.
“Right.” You say, your voice a little dull. “Well, that’s great.”
But then you turn around and march up to the door of the outpost, and it hisses open to let you in. Tsu’tey perks up, frowning. Are you leaving now? You’ve never left without giving him some kind of little hug or squeeze to his hand, or a promise to see him tomorrow.
“Tawtute—” He begins, but you don’t turn around.
“Goodnight, Tsu’tey.”
“I will see you tomorr—” He begins, but the door slides shut with a firm hiss before he can finish.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
It takes most of the day before Tsu’tey realises that something is wrong.
Hardly a day has gone by in the last few months that you haven’t shown up at the village to watch him train and cook, or to entice him out swimming or walking or gathering. While it was once met with annoyance on Tsu’tey’s part, he has come to enjoy your company. He looks forward to your arrival now, his whole body primed and eager as he waits for you to come to the village.
But the following day, you’re nowhere to be seen.
You don’t arrive for the morning meal, and you never come to watch him train. He waits around in the afternoon, trying to look busy as he waits for you to come to the village. When you don’t show up, uneasiness begins to creep in.
He waits for dinnertime, but you don’t come to eat with him either.
He eats in silence, frowning broodily into the fire and casting frequent glances towards the forest as he waits to catch a glimpse of you. He has to deal with sympathetic and questioning glances from Jake and Neytiri all evening, which makes his skin itch. They don’t ask questions, which arguably makes it worse.
Tsu’tey doesn’t even make it to the end of the meal before he stands, making the decision to seek you out instead of waiting around.
“Good luck, man.” Jake mutters rather ominously.
Tsu’tey doesn’t bother with a reply, abandoning his half-eaten food as he marches into the forest. He’s irritated to find that he’s worried. You had been in poor humour the night before, and he’s a little bit anxious about why.
It doesn’t seem like a coincidence that your mood and attitude had changed so drastically after the two of you had crossed the human boundary of nudity. Had he gone too far? Had you been uncomfortable? Perhaps you had realised that he was looking at you in a way that decidedly surpassed friendship, and you didn’t like it.
The outpost is a shoddy eyesore of human architecture, and it makes Tsu’tey’s nose wrinkle everytime he sees it. Despite all the time he’s spent with you, he rarely visits the outpost itself, but needs must.
It takes a frustratingly long moment for him to work out the mechanism of the door, and then he has to stand there with his tail whipping around impatiently as the door compresses shut and the atmosphere is forcibly converted to air that’s breathable for humans. When the second door opens up to allow him into the outpost itself, he muscles his way in and takes one of the stupid little masks to loop around his neck so that he can take infrequent sips of air.
The outpost is cluttered with demon technology and strange furniture, and Tsu’tey picks his way around the metal floor with his nose wrinkled. He dislikes the way it feels against his bare feet.
The first person that sees him is Norm, who’s sitting at one of the messy desks with his head in his hands. It’s rare to see him in his human form, his odd dreamwalker body tucked away for the night, but Tsu’tey grunts a greeting out nonetheless.
Norm doesn’t react the way he had expected. He jerks to his feet, eyes widening at the sight of him, and he blurts, “Oh, thank god. You’re here to apologise, right?”
That gives Tsu’tey pause, and he stares at Norm in some bewilderment. “Apologise?”
Norm doesn’t appear to hear him, too busy glancing over his shoulder towards the back of the outpost as he scurries a little closer.
“Man, she’s been upset all day.” Norm keeps his voice low, as though he’s worried you’ll hear. “Just—go in there and talk to her.”
Tsu’tey frowns, but he’s already drifting towards the back of the outpost. The shoddy building is split into several sections; one for working, one for recreation, one for sleeping. There’s probably more, but Tsu’tey has never bothered looking too closely at it. All he knows is that Norm has gestured to the back of the building, towards the sleeping area.
“She is resting?” He asks, keeping his voice low to match Norm’s.
Norm scoffs. “Uh, no, I wish. She got some of that fruit wine you guys drink at celebrations. She’s a little bit… uh…”
Ah. You have been drinking. Tsu’tey feels curiosity bubble up in his chest; he’s never seen you drunk before. In this moment, he wants to see nothing more.
“I will speak with her.” He murmurs, before leaving Norm behind in favour of ducking into the back section of the outpost.
The building is rickety and mostly partitioned with fabric curtains rather than the doors that the Sky People tend to favour. As such, Tsu’tey can hear the way Norm is shooing whatever other demons are left over out of the building, presumably to give him some privacy with you.
He finds you laid out in a bed near the back, floppy-limbed and sloe-eyed as you speak with another sky demon. You’re talking with your hands, clearly feeling very passionate about whatever the subject you’re discussing is.
Tsu’tey lets his eyes wander over you, enjoying the brief moment he has before you realise he’s there. You’re wearing thin white fabric shorts covered in some sort of blue pattern, and a small little top that only reaches your midriff. You look so comfy, so warm and soft in your cosy little bed as you drink Omaticayan fruit wine and complain to your friend. Tsu’tey feels a buzzing start up in his belly and the tips of his fingers; he wants to touch you so badly it hurts.
The other sky demon spots him first, her eyes widening at the sight of him as she leaps off the bed. It takes a beat longer for you to spot him, but then you’re scrambling to your feet as well.
“Tsu’tey—” You start, almost spilling the fruit wine in your hand all over your bed. “What are you—”
“You did not come to the village today.” He says before you can finish, stepping closer to your bed.
The ceilings in the outpost are high to accommodate the bodies of the dreamwalkers, so he towers over you as kneel up on your bed, frowning up at him. He feels his cock twitch; he knows he’s bigger than you, obviously, but the size difference between you feels so stark now that he’s looking at you all curled up in your bed, rumpled and a little disheveled from the wine.
“I’ll—I’ll see you later!” Your friend blurts, before turning and rushing out.
Satisfied now that he is alone with you, Tsu’tey allows himself to sink to his knees by your bedside. Even on his knees, he is slightly taller than you in your bed.
You look a little flustered, clutching your cup of wine to your chest as you blink at him with wide eyes. It draws his eyes to your breasts, and with a little thrill of delight he sees that the fabric is sheer enough for him to get a good look at the outline of your nipples all firmed up beneath your clothes.
He so rarely sees you without the mask, and he can’t help but notice how sweet your little face looks without the clear barrier. Your eyes are all glossy and a little hazy from the wine, and you’re looking up at him as though you can’t quite believe he’s there.
“Are you alright?” He asks quietly. The moment feels so delicate, as though he might inadvertently shatter it with a raised voice, so he keeps his voice low and even as he reaches out to stroke over your squishy cheek with a single finger.
To his surprise, you jerk away from him, once again almost sloshing the wine all over yourself. You roll off the bed, holding your cup high, until you’re on your feet in front of him.
“Yes!” You say, and your voice comes out high-pitched and a bit shaky. “Fine, I’m fine. Why are you here?”
For a moment, Tsu’tey just stares at you. You’ve never pulled away from his touches. It’s always been him that’s been jittery around you, nervous in case he hurts you or pushes too far. But now you’re wobbling away from him and avoiding his gaze, and that makes something that feels a lot like panic settle into his bones.
“You are upset.” Tsu’tey notes, shuffling a little closer to you on his knees as you retreat.
“No, no, everything is fine,” You’re insisting, visibly unsteady on your feet as you totter around. “I don’t know why you’re here.”
It shouldn’t be cute, but Tsu’tey is coming to admit to himself that he finds everything about you unnervingly endearing. He watches as you struggle to straighten out your rumpled little clothes, admiring the way the thin fabric clings to you. You look embarrassed and a little self-conscious, as though he’s caught you out.
“I was waiting for you,” He murmurs, reaching for you again. He keeps his hands slow, as though approaching a wounded nantang. You’re such a jittery little thing, but you don’t pull away this time, allowing him to place a hand carefully on your hip. “You did not come to see me today.”
“I figured you’d be busy.” You say, your tone snippy and a bit bratty. “Thought you’d go and hang out with Saeyla today.”
Tsu’tey stares at you. What does Saeyla have to do with this? Is this why you are so upset?
“Syulang,” He murmurs, foregoing his usual nickname for you for a much softer one. “You always have much to say. Please talk to me. I am not understanding why you are angry with me.”
For a moment, he thinks that you aren’t going to speak to him at all. But then you grip your little cup of wine and raise it to your lips, drinking one deep gulp before looking at him in the eye with fiery determination.
“I’m embarrassed,” You snap. “I’ve been basically throwing myself at you for months now, so excuse me if my ego is a little bit bruised. The least you could have done would be to let me down gently instead of letting me embarrass myself in front of everyone—”
Tsu’tey goggles at you, hardly able to believe what you’re saying. “Tawtute—”
“No,” You interrupt sharply, pointing your finger towards him. “Don’t. You said I could talk now.”
Tsu'tey falls obediently silent. His tail curls around his thigh; he’s a little surprised by the way he physically reacts to your sharp tone. He’s never heard you sound so firm before.
“I’ve been—I’ve been wearing all that silly makeup, and wearing all those skimpy tight clothes because I thought you’d look at me more!” You continue, your voice trembling a little. “I’ve been following you around like a pathetic puppy, and sitting in your lap at dinnertime, and holding your hand, and—and—”
You’ve been hoping for him to look at you more? Couldn’t you tell that all he ever did was look at you?
“And then you just tell me that I’m not attractive, and you toss me out of your lap, and tell me that we’re just friends, and you tell me right to my face that you’re going off to sleep with your ex-girlfriend—”
Tsu’tey sputters so hard at that that he nearly spits, horrified.
“I never—” He starts, his eyes wide as his tail curls under his legs, his ears pinning back.
“You did!” You burst out, teary-eyed. “When I was practically naked in front of you, I waited for you to say something, to give any sort of indication that you might like what you were seeing, but you just glared at me and said nothing at all!”
Ah. Tsu’tey has never hated his resting scowl as much as he does in this moment.
“And then yesterday! You said we’re just friends, then you threw me off your lap, and then you said you were going to Saeyla’s kelku right after walking me home—” You continue, beginning to really work yourself up.
“No!” Tsu’tey blurts, reaching out and grabbing at your hand. His blue palm engulfs your much smaller one, and he holds it as delicately as he can. “No, you have misunderstood, syulang.”
“God, I don’t even know why I like you,” You sniffle. “You’re so rude.”
“But you do,” Tsu’tey murmurs, his eyes still wide at the sheer novelty of it. “You like me. You cannot take it back now.”
“Oh, you’re such a dick,” You hiss, yanking your hand out of his. “Did you come here just to rub this in my face—”
“I threw you out of my lap because you were sitting on my cock and I didn’t want you to notice how hard you made me.” The words escape Tsu’tey’s mouth before he can think about it, but you finally fall silent.
 You look a little stunned, actually, and Tsu’tey figures that he’d better start talking quickly before you come back to yourself and remember that you’re angry with him.
He pulls your cup out of your hand and raises it to his mouth, draining the wine in it himself in an effort to cultivate some liquid bravery. The taste bursts sharp and syrupy across his tongue. Of course, he thinks as he licks a dark drop from his lip, you would favour the cloying sweet wine. It suits you.
“Syulang, pretty girl, I do not like when you are upset.” He murmurs, shuffling closer on his knees. You don’t pull away, watching him come and allowing him to rest his hands on your hips. “Please listen.”
You’re still gaping at him, clearly a little thrown off by him stealing your wine from you. He takes advantage of your momentary silence by launching into his explanation. He hardly knows where to begin, but he decides to start with the most heinous accusation.
“I have never been intimate with Saeyla,” He murmurs, his thumbs stroking over your hips. “Never, tawtute. I have not been intimate with anyone in a very long time.”
Your throat bobs a little nervously, but you don’t interrupt.
“I have been taken with you for many, many months now,” He admits, and his ears flatten a little in embarrassment. He is not used to discussing his feelings, and it feels unnervingly vulnerable. “I know that I am grumpy, and rude, and I do not always express myself well. I have never been good at talking, and I can be too arrogant for my own good—”
You breathe out a shaky laugh and sway a step closer, as though you’re hardly aware what you’re doing. Tsu’tey’s grip tightens carefully on your hips, his breath catching in his chest as he urges you closer yet again.
“I have been so full of desire that it has been difficult to think,” He confesses in a low whisper. “It has been humiliating. I had thought— I did not want to scare you—”
He never gets a chance to finish his explanation. He’s partway through his sentence when you launch yourself into his arms, and he cuts himself off in favour of wrapping his arms around you to stop you from bowling the two of you over.
You start kissing his face all over, peppering eager little butterfly kisses all over the tanhì across his forehead and cheeks and all over his flat nose. He can’t help the delighted rumble that’s ripped out of his chest at the display of affection, and he tries to follow your lips with his face when you start to pull away.
“You’re so stupid,” You whisper, and Tsu’tey is so pleased that you’re smiling again that he doesn’t even feel offended about that. “I’ve been jumping in your lap and holding your hand every chance I’ve gotten. I took my clothes off and sunbathed practically naked with you, and showed you my tits—”
“I thought we were being friends.” He says thickly, leaning forward again in the hopes that you’ll give him another kiss. Even on his knees in front of you as you stand, he is so much larger and bulkier than you; it makes him want to tuck you away and keep you safe forever.
You groan, tilting your head back as though you’re in pain. “Tsu’tey. You’re killing me here.”
He can’t resist the temptation of your head tilted back with your throat bared, and leans forward to press his face into the crook of your neck. He rubs his cheek against your pulse point, feeling satisfaction bloom in his stomach as his scent is spread all over the vulnerable skin of your throat.
“I am sorry, syulang,” He murmurs, his lips brushing over your pulse. He feels you shudder against him, and clutches you tighter. “I thought it was obvious how I felt. The whole clan knows. Do you not see how they watch us?”
The laugh that leaves your mouth is a little thready, and your hands come to rest on Tsu’tey’s shoulders for balance as he nuzzles into your shoulder.
“I thought they were looking at me,” You whispered. “Because I was so obvious about how I liked you.”
Tsu’tey shakes his head, trying to hide the silly grin on his face into your soft shoulder. You like him. All of those months of ridiculous pining and yearning and humiliating stifled desire, only to find out that you desired him too.
“So…” You whisper, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “So, you did like my piercings, then?”
Tsu’tey groans, his fingers spreading wide over your back as he pulls you closer. You’re so much smaller than him that his hand spans almost the whole width of your back, and his heartrate picks up as he feels your soft body press into him.
“Yes,” He murmurs, his ears pinning back in muted shame at the admission. “I liked them.”
The smile that breaks over your face at that is almost blinding, and he’s surprised by your enthusiasm when you grab at his jaw and haul his face closer so that you can capture his lips with your own.
The fact that he’s kissing you nearly stalls his brain, but then he feels the softness of your lips and the wet heat of your tongue, and it feels as though his nerves are set alight. He grunts, using the hand on your back to hold you close against him as he kisses you back eagerly.
He’s trying to be as cautious as possible, worried about hurting you, but you don’t seem to share his concern. In fact, your fervor surprises him. You push at his shoulders, and though you’re not strong enough to shift him he follows your unspoken order anyway, until you’ve guided him all the way back to your bed.
He gasps, his vision going a little blurry as you begin trailing kisses along his jaw. He grabs at the mask to take a few clumsy breaths of air, his body hot and tense as you kiss him.
“Bed,” You breathe, pushing at his shoulders. “Get on the bed.”
“Tawtute,” He says, swallowing thickly. “Should we— do you wish to take this slow?”
You pause then, pulling back a little so that you can level him with a look. He’s always found your strange little face difficult to read, but even he can tell that you look decidedly unimpressed right now.
“You think I want to take this slow?” You repeat, nose crinkling. But then your expression grows a little unsure, and you start to pull away. “Oh. Do you want to take this slow?”
“No.” Tsu’tey says, far too quickly.
The two of you just look at each for a moment, blinking. Then Tsu’tey stands, his knees slightly wobbly after kneeling before you for so long, and sinks down onto your bed. It’s a tight fit, the bulk of his body hunching forward slightly as his knees bunch up, but his slight discomfort is forgotten immediately when you climb up into his lap.
Over the last few months, you have sat in his lap many times. This time is different – this time, you’re straddling his crotch, your lovely thighs bracketing his hips as your soft bottom rests over his cock. You’re still kissing him, your soft lips trailing all over his jawline then up to his mouth again, swallowing the appreciative grunts that pour from his mouth.
When he had imagined this, often late at night with his cock in his hand, he had pictured you soft and eager and sweet – and you are all of those things, but nothing could ever have prepared him for how hungry you are, how impatient and greedy you are as you push him back onto your bed and follow him down. Your bodies are pressed so tight together that there’s hardly an inch of air, yet you seem determined to wriggle even closer.
Tsu’tey moans quietly, leaning back among your threadbare pillows as you do your best to devour him. Your mouth is small, but you happily open it wide as you lick into his mouth, your little tongue tracing over his sharp canines in a way that makes him shiver.
“Can’t believe we had this conversation when I’m in my fucking pajamas,” You murmur into his mouth, pressing your soft fabric-covered tits against his wide chest. “I wanted to be wearing something sexy for this.”
All he can do is close his eyes against the onslaught of your lips and teeth on the exposed skin of his neck. Your small hands smooth over the planes of his chest, hot and possessive as they crawl over the front of his body.
“You are very beautiful, syulang.” Tsu’tey breathes, his hands finding a firm hold on your waist as your weight settles over him.
Then you grind down, and he’s already so aroused but now he can feel the heat of your pussy through those tiny damn shorts of yours and the noise that’s torn from his chest is completely undignified.
He grabs at you. It’s rough and presumptuous and honestly Tsu’tey isn’t even sure it’s a conscious decision, but before he knows it he’s grabbed you by the waist and is pulling you down to grind against his cock.
“Fuck,” You gasp, and Tsu’tey nearly loses it. “Oh god.”
You shuffle back a little, and Tsu’tey nearly audibly whines when he loses that glorious friction over his cock. But it turns out that you’ve only moved so that you have access to his loincloth, which you promptly begin to pull at.
“Mawey, yawntutsyìp.” He croaks out, though he’s already flexing his hips to help you pull his tewng off.
“Been wanting this for ages, you have no idea—”
Tsu’tey swears his head is spinning at the sheer irony of that, because he could have been experiencing this for ages?
His cock is freed from his tewng, slapping against his stomach with an embarrassingly loud smack. When you see how big he is, your eyes widen, and Tsu’tey has a horrible moment of panic where he worries that you’re going to change your mind. He would only be able to accept that choice, but he already knows that it will leave him with the worst case of blue balls he’d ever experienced.
But you don’t let his no doubt intimidating size stop you from reaching out with your small hands to stroke him. A guttural growl is pulled from him, and he tilts his head back against your soft bedding and bites hard at his lip in an effort to control himself as you stroke at him.
“Oh, fuck yes.” You breathe, your expression nothing short of delighted as you stare down at him. He feels vulnerable under your gaze, naked in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve pulled his tewng off him.
He reaches out, tugs at your top. “I wish to see you, again.”
That makes you smile. The little fabric top you’re wearing is so thin that he can see the outline of your breasts and little nipples already, and as you lean forward to tug at his cock it gapes open at the chest to give him a tantalising glimpse of your bare flesh, but it’s not enough. He wants to see you bare and wanting beneath him. Or on top of him. He’s not fussy.
When you pull your flimsy little fabric covering off, Tsu’tey feels as though he goes momentarily light-headed as his blood rushes south. He’s seen you like this before, that day at the river, but this is different. This time, he’s allowed to touch.
You’re as soft as he’d imagined – softer, even. Tsu’tey’s hands are eager, reaching up to grope and feel, and you tilt your head back and moan softly as he kneads at your delightfully squishy breasts. He just can’t get over how perfect and pliable you are, your supple skin moulding and giving around his hands. He’s never experienced anyone as soft as you; the Na’vi are bigger than the Sky People, and stronger too. His people do not have the same shape, are not soft in the same places as humans. And he’s never thought too much about it, but now he feels like he’s losing himself in your supple flesh.
And then there’s the delicate little barbells in your nipples. Tsu’tey stares, wanting so badly to touch but nervous about going too hard or fast and accidentally hurting you.
“Remember I said they were just to look good?” You breathe, pressing forward a little to encourage his hands to roam over your tits.
“Mm.” Tsu’tey grunts mindlessly. He does recall something of the sort, but he doesn’t think it is fair that you expect him to think when he has your tits in his hands like this, one hand almost spanning your entire chest.
“I lied,” You whisper, your lips curving up in a smile so cheeky that it makes Tsu’tey’s toes curl. “They feel good, too.”
Tsu’tey groans, running his fingers slowly across your skin before finally touching the piercings, his touch smooth and warm.
A low moan of contentment escapes him. "Soft skin. Pretty piercings."
His hands cup your breasts as his thumbs brush over your nipples. You were telling the truth about them; the piercings make you sensitive, and when you shiver under his hands, his gaze darkens.
"I want them in my mouth." He says suddenly, his voice rough and gravelly. His thumbs swipe over them yet again, and he looks up eagerly to you to wait for your permission as you sigh.
You laugh, though it's a breathless and weak sort of a thing. You’re trying to play it cool and casual, but Tsu’tey is holding your soft little breasts in his hands – he can feel your rapid heartbeat against his palm. "Go on, then."
He doesn't waste any time before he's bending his head and pressing harsh, biting kisses all along your chest. Then, getting sick of bending his neck down, he grabs at the flesh of your ass and hauls you up into his arms so that he can mouth at your nipples in earnest.
He licks over your left breast, feeling the little metal barbell against his tongue. It must feel good because you whine, arching your back and pushing your tits into his face even more. Your skin is so soft and sensitive, and it makes his rough tongue and big hands feel clumsy and coarse.
He wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles at it, his tongue playing with the strange little balls at the end of the bars. The metal is cool against his tongue, offering a pleasant contrast to your heated flesh.
“Ungh, shit,” You gasp, your little hands winding into his braids and gripping him there. “Tsu’tey… I wanna suck your cock.”
Tsu’tey freezes, his eyes going wide. Those words rock through him like a physical punch, and he groans as his cock visibly twitches against his stomach. He knows you can feel it, considering you’re still straddling him, and you begin to wiggle your way back as you try to get your face down to his crotch.
But as soon as you get your little hand on his cock, panic shoots through him. It feels good, so good, but he’s sure if you actually put it in your mouth he’ll die. He already knows that if you get your mouth on him everything will be over far too quickly, and he’s not ready to tap out just yet.
He grabs you and rolls, until you’re on your back staring up at him with a surprised little pout.
“I want that, tawtute,” He admits, his voice coming out in a gravelly rumble as he presses a careful kiss to your pouting lips. “But later.”
“But—”
He doesn’t let you finish. He’s too busy kissing your strange, alien little face, then down over your throat. You’re so addictive already. He wants to fuck you and have the whole clan listen, he wants to suck on your tits and have you crying, he wants to play with your clit until it’s puffy and swollen, he wants to play with your cute little hole, he wants to see you bouncing on his cock, on your hands and knees… He feels like he’s been set alight with desire, like the blood in his veins has turned molten.
His fingers hook into your little shorts and pull at them, and you lift your hips to help him tug them off. To his delight, you’re not wearing your tiny little fabric covering under them, and his tail whips in excitement at the sight of you bare beneath him.
“Oh,” He breathes, shuffling himself down your bed. It’s a narrow fit, and cramped, but Tsu’tey doesn’t care; his attention is fixed on you and the way your legs are spreading to accommodate the bulk of his body.
He takes in the sight of you eagerly, bare and glistening wet, and grinding against nothing, and he realises in that moment that his imagination could never have lived up to reality.
“I’m going to take care of you,” He mumbles mindlessly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your lovely plush inner thigh. “Going to make you feel so good, syulang.”
“Okay.” You sigh, the word coming out a little wobbly.
Tsu’tey’s tail whips from side-to-side as he gazes at your bare cunt, still hardly able to believe that you’re giving him access to you like this, that you like him too. It feels too good to be true, but Tsu’tey is not about to let this opportunity to pass him by.
“So pretty, yawntutsyìp.” He kisses his words flatly against your puffy lips before coaxing them open with his flat nose. His face is covered in you already, glistening across his lips and chin. But it’s not enough, it won’t be enough until he’s drowning in you.
You taste tangy and sweet, a heady mix of sweat and pheromones that pulls him in ever closer, desperate to drink his fill of you.
But even better than how you taste, is how you react.
You’re up on him so fast he barely has time to blink – no sooner has he laid his lips on your pussy, his mouth so big that it almost swallows you whole, than your hips are bucking up into his face. All he can smell and taste is you, and you’re so fucking wet and suddenly you’re rutting up against his face, not even caring if Tsu’tey’s mouth is open or not, as though you’re so desperate for him that all you can do is use him.
It’s the best day of Tsu’tey’s life. He’s going to mark this day and religiously celebrate it every year.
“Tsu’tey –!” You gasp, rutting your hips into his face. A wild, somewhat unhinged part of him hopes you break his nose. He uses his tongue against your clit and lets you rub yourself all over him, making his brain feel so blissfully empty.
He just moans into you, his hands wrapping around your plush hips and gripping at your squishy little bottom for leverage as he pulls you back against his face. He suckles at you so eagerly, tongue laving over your hole, over and over and over, delighting in the way you gasp and moan and grind into his mouth.
His tail coils as his arousal pulses, forgetting himself as his fingers clench into your soft skin. You sigh, and drop your head back against the pillows as you move your hips to push your pussy back against his tongue. When he spears his tongue into you, you whine, but the sound is muffled somehow—
You’ve bitten your pillow, Tsu’tey realises, and groans. He wants so badly to get his hands on himself, to stroke and tug at his cock as he devours you, but he can’t bring himself to let go of you. He feels as though he’ll die if he lets go of your squishy ass, and his fingers knead insistently at it as he dines on your cunt.
He fucks his tongue into you harder, mouth open and jaw aching in the most satisfying way. It’s all worth it when Tsu’tey realises that you’re crying, just softly, your moans and whines wet, your breaths choked.
Tsu’tey’s fingers find their way to rest against your pussy, pushing in gently when he’s satisfied with how well his tongue worked you open. Once the digits are wet, he pushes two in to the first knuckle. He groans at the feeling of how welcoming your pussy is, how responsive you are to his touch. You cry out, your thighs twitching as he stretches you out.
Your whimpering makes him feel bold, his cock weeping against his thigh. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, the frustrating ache in his balls is poured right into the quickening pace of his fingers. He wants you to break— to crumble into pieces just so he can put you back together.
“Tsu’tey,” You slur out, your fingers gripping at his braids as you writhe under his attention. “Need to slow down, or I’m gonna—I’m gonna come—”
Your words fall on deaf ears; Tsu’tey is practically hypnotised by your little whimpers and cries as he sucks and licks eagerly at your squishy wet pussy, his fingers twisting and rubbing all along your hot, clutching insides. He feels desperate to experience you come against his tongue, and his movements take on an edge of fervor as he opens his mouth wide to suck your whole cunt into his mouth.
You squeal, hips bucking, and your feet kick out until they’ve landed on his shoulders. Tsu’tey moans, pleased by your reaction, and his mouth seals firmly around you as his tongue laps at your clit.
Your thighs suddenly clench around his head, keeping it in place, and he increases his pace, keeping it rhythmic for you. He buries his nose into your little swollen clit, letting out a hungry little noise as he sucks at you.
And then you’re gasping, the line of your body going taut and stiff as your orgasm rolls through you. Tsu’tey doesn’t relent, sucking and licking at you as you tremble and shake apart. Your release tastes so sweet, like hot syrup on his tongue, and he can’t get enough of you. Your thighs grip his head so hard that the muscles tremble, and he relishes the pressure of your legs squeezing around his skull.
It doesn’t take long before your legs are kicking again, wheezing as you grow oversensitive and push at his head. With great reluctance, Tsu’tey pulls his mouth away with a wet ‘pop’, licking his lips before leaning in to suckle a series of biting kisses around your inner thighs.
He feels a little light-headed, still so hungry. He knows his eyes are heavy-lidded with his own arousal, his whole body throbbing with the need to take you, but he’s trying so damn hard to control himself.
“Oh god… fuck.” You breathe, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
That certainly strokes Tsu’tey’s male pride, and he looks up at you with a pleased, if slightly dazed, smile. He’s breathing heavily still from having devoted his entire attention to pleasing you and forgetting to breathe, and it takes a moment for him to realise he needs to sip from the stupid mask. He fumbles for a moment, grabbing at it and taking several deep breaths before dropping it again and leaning up to kiss at your cute little lower belly.
“It was good?” He asks. Judging by the look on your face he knows the answer, but he can’t help but want to hear it straight from your mouth.
You laugh, a little disbelievingly, then place a hand onto his chest and push lightly at him until he’s rolling over onto his back. You follow, swinging your leg over his hips and settling down so that your spit-slick pussy is nestled right up against his hard cock.
“So good,” You whisper, and it practically comes out like a purr. “So fucking good.”
Tsu’tey’s tail curls and his ears fold back, his stomach swooping in anticipation at the coy tone of your voice. His cock twitches too, very interested in the way you’re sitting on it. When you rock your hips lightly, allowing your slick pussy to glide along his length, he groans breathily before reaching to grab at your waist, trying to hold you still.
“Wait, syulang.” He says, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. “You are so small, I don’t want to hurt you.”
He’s not expecting you to laugh at that, as though he’s said something that you find adorable. You lean in and kiss him, your lips soft against his hot, swollen ones.
“You’re not the first Na’vi I’ve had,” You whisper against his mouth, giving him yet another sweet kiss. “I know what I’m doing.”
He bristles at the thought of another Na’vi hunching over your little body, rutting into your hot wet softness. His hands tighten around your waist as a bolt of possessive jealousy flashes through him.
“Who?” He demands, his face scrunching up in a scowl.
You just giggle, leaning down to kiss the wide bridge of his nose. Tsu’tey’s ears fold down, a little mollified by how cute you are, though his scowl doesn’t lessen much. Your hand runs over his chest, your fingers stroking over his heated skin.
“Oh, shush.” You say with a fond smile, as though you think he’s joking. “What, did you expect me live like a nun while you were ignoring me all that time? I didn’t even think you liked me.”
Tsu’tey doesn’t know what a nun is, but he’s distracted before he can ask. You lean down slowly, running the tip of your tongue along his throat. You pause to bite him gently right where his vein pulses, and the rush of sensations from your touch nearly sends him spiraling.
“Besides,” You whisper, “I feel like you just sucked my soul out through my pussy, so I really don’t think anyone else is ever going to compare.”
The purr that your words pull out of him at that is embarrassing, but his body reacts before his brain does. Yes, he thinks smugly, I am better. It feels incredibly important to him that you know he is the best option, the man that can please you best.
Tsu’tey feels like he’s melting under you. The heat of your bare slick cunt against the length of his cock is fanning a fire in his blood. He bites at his lip as he feels your lips on his pulse, harder now, kissing softly, tongue flicking against the skin.
Your hand slides lower, and then finally your hand wraps around the base of his cock. He groans, bucks up, but didn’t mean to. Thankfully you just laugh, obviously amused as you’re lifted up by the momentum of his hips.
 “Tsu’tey, baby,” You whisper, and oh, your voice is going to drive him insane. “Does it hurt, being this hard?”
Tsu’tey openly chokes, and you give him one slow stroke. The feeling of your small soft hand against him has his mind blanking entirely for a second. You pause to rub your thumb under his cockhead, against the bundle of nerves there, and Tsu’tey moans as his eyes flutter shut.
“Pretty boy,” You whisper, and Tsu’tey gasps, feeling his lip quiver. He cracks his eyes open, just to see you smiling down at him. “Do you like when I call you pretty?”
Tsu’tey looks away and says nothing – but you just giggle.
“You’re pouting, Tsu’tey.”
“I am not.” He grumbles, though his cheeks are uncomfortably warm.
Your hands move, one stroking around his cock, the other cradling his balls. Tsu’tey arches, pushes into your hand as you twist your fist around his glans. His mouth falls open, a breathy moan escaping, and you visibly shiver. He tries to push himself up on his elbows so that he can watch as you shift atop him, hips rocking forward gently as you stroke at him.
“Syulang,” He manages, licking at his lips as his voice comes out all breathy and desperate. “Please.”
You grin at him, your eyes soft and affectionate as you watch him disintegrate beneath your touch. Then you’re lifting up onto your knees, using his chest as leverage, and Tsu’tey holds his breath as you position yourself over his cock.
“Breathe, baby.” You laugh, taking his mask and holding it up to his face.
He takes several deep breaths, feels the blurred edges of his mind sharpen, and reaches down to grab his cock. He helps you to position it, his cockhead gliding along your slick folds.
He has to pause for a moment, closing his eyes as his ears flatten back against his head. You’re so damn soft, your cunt is so hot and sticky wet, and he already knows that the moment his cock pushes inside of you he’ll be fighting for his life not to come instantly. He just wants to last long enough to please you, to make you feel good.
You let out a soft noise, your hips twitching as you try to hump your pussy back onto his cock. He has to grab your hips to keep you still, grunting.
“You’re teasing.” You whine, clutching at his arms as you try to wiggle your way back onto him.
“Mph.” Tsu’tey grunts, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to contain himself. “Mawey, syulang. Patience.”
But patience doesn’t seem to be your strong suit. Your bright eyes have gone dark, pupils blown, forehead glimmering with sweat – you look beautiful, and Tsu’tey feels like he’s dying.
You lean forward and crash your mouth into his, kissing him hard and messy as you wriggle in his lap, trying to coax his cock inside you. Tsu’tey moans into your mouth, but then you’re pulling back, and your lips press against his nose, his cheeks, his forehead.
Still breathing deeply, Tsu’tey aligns his cock against your pussy, and at the same time as his sweet girl peppers his face with kisses, he begins to push inside. You whine at the pressure of the stretch, your forehead pressed against his as he presses his cock into you slowly, as slowly as he can manage.
“Come on,” You groan, leaning forward and letting your blunt little teeth scrape over the sensitive tip of his ear. “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”
“Calm,” Tsu’tey gasps, clutching at your plush little hips in an effort to keep you from slamming yourself down on him all at once. “Calm, yawntutsyìp, I do not wish to hurt you—”
But his words are lost when you shift over him right as he begins to press into you again, and from one second to the next he slides half-way inside, past the small ring of resistance and into the velvety hot inside of your cunt.
It’s like a gut punch.
He moans like a dying man and holds you as tight as he can in an attempt to ground himself enough not to start thrusting. You gasp, your features scrunching into a pained wince as you’re split wide around the thickness of his cock. He doesn’t need you to vocalise your discomfort, so he rubs your puffy clit to try and make it better for you. His calloused thumb rubs slow circles on it at the same time as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting and whimpering. 
Fuck, he needs to move.
Just a bit –
Just to take the edge off –
His hips pull back and then quickly snap forward again. “Fuck.”
It’s so easy it’s sinful. He pushes through the tightest cunt he has ever been in and it feels like home. He groans roughly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tries to catch his breath. He can’t help but look down, and he almost whimpers at the sight of your cunt stretched wide around his thick length, at the aborted little twitching of your hips as you try admirably hard to take him in deeper. You’re so much tighter than he expected, and it takes everything in him to pull back again.
When he withdraws, your pussy grips him all the way to the tip, making him feel so insane he had to immediately dive back in, gasping. He’s too big to fit inside of you completely, but that’s okay; your tiny pussy grips hard enough at the length that you can take that Tsu’tey feels like he’s about to black out.
“Yes!” You cry out, arching your chest against his so that he can feel the cool sensation of your piercings against his skin, your fingers knotting into his braids as you lift yourself up then down on his cock, meeting his sloppy thrusts.
Tsu’tey feels as though the world is fracturing around him as he pushes himself into your tiny little cunt, feeling your pussy clench around his cock like a fist. It's so tight and sweet, his dick feels as though it's being pulled into paradise.
Being inside you is heavenly; it’s like your sweet little pussy is made for him, molding to him and stretching where it needs to, squeezing him tight to the point of pain. He pistons in and out of you from below, finding his own pace as the bed shakes from the force of his thrusts. You make soft, wet little sounds, a wanton creature in response in response as you undulate atop of him.
Your tits bounce every time he thrusts up into you, and he finds his eyes glued to sight before his self-control cracks and he’s leaning forward to take one of your breasts into his mouth. It takes a bit of contortion, his spine curving as his mouth locks around your tit, his tongue rolling against your little pierced nipple, his ears wiggling eagerly as they pick up your little mewls.
Oh, he’s not going to last long; he already feels like he’s losing his mind.
Soft, desperate little noises are babbling out of your mouth as you fuck yourself down on his cock, clutching at his shoulders for balance. Your jaw is slack and your mouth is open, and Tsu’tey can see flashes of your little pink tongue as you gasp and whimper everytime he rolls his hips up into you. Your movements have taken on an edge of desperation as you ride him, your pussy squeezing him so tight his vision is going blurry.
Then your little body is seizing, weak gasping moans spilling from your lips as your spine goes stiff. Your cunt clenches in sporadic little pulses, and Tsu’tey nearly roars at the intensity of it – your pussy sucks so tight that it almost hurts. It’s a weaker orgasm than your first one, but you still sob your way through it as you clutch at him.
“Oh, syulang, fuck.” Tsu’tey grits out, the human curse word sounding coarse and foreign on his tongue.
He wants to do this forever, to stay buried in you all night, but you’re sucking him in and clinging to him in a vice grip as you push back against him, and he’s about to explode. He’s overwrought, grunting against your sweat-damp skin as he clutches your soft little body close to him, the motion of his hips turning jerky and sloppy as he feels that tingly pressure grow in his stomach.
He lifts you off his cock with a cut-off snarl, grabbing at his cock with a clumsy hand as that pressure bubbles over. He comes with more force than he had been expecting, his come spurting out onto your belly and over your tits, dripping steadily over your smooth skin.
Part of him is a little embarrassed about how quickly he had come, but the larger part of him feels it was impressive that he didn’t spill the instant he got his cock inside of you. But you’re pouting up at him, clutching at his chest as you push back against him.
“No,” You whine, your voice quiet and tired as you try to grind your messy pussy back onto him. “Wanted you to come inside.”
Tsu’tey is already breathless, but the sweet little whimper in your voice nearly knocks him flat yet again. His cock is still throbbing, the last few drops of his release spurting out and glowing lightly against your skin. He takes in the sight of his seed spattered across your pretty little body greedily, committing it to memory. Nothing in his raunchiest wet dreams could have compared to the reality of this moment.
“We will have time for that, yawntutsyìp,” He whispers, his stomach clenching in excitement at the thought. “You will not need another man again.”
You grumble lightly, but he can see the satisfied little smile on your face as you go limp in his arms, burrowing closer to his chest as you collapse down next to him. Having you in his arms feels perfect; his tail curls in satisfaction when he realises how perfectly you fit against his chest, and he purrs smugly as he nudges his nose against your temple.
He rolls, scooping you up and arranging you so that you’re laying sprawled at his side, before curving his body around yours and wrapping an arm around your little body. Your body is still glistening with sweat and the dimly bioluminescent streaks of come that Tsu’tey has left on you – he’s torn between the urge to care for you, to clean you up and make sure that you’re sated and pleased, and to leave you marked and carrying his scent.
He’ll clean you up in a few minutes, he decides, allowing himself to enjoy the sight of you after being thoroughly claimed for a little while longer.
“If you ever say we’re just friends again I’ll kick your ass.” You mumble, pressing your face into his pectoral muscles.
You’re acting as though your bones have been dissolved into jelly, laying all limp and pliable against him even as you squirm closer. Tsu’tey allows himself to just stare at you, admiring all the subtle little bite-marks and bruising that he can’t remember leaving behind, admiring your puffy nipples and your still gooey cunt.
“Mm.” Tsu’tey hums, dipping his head down and laying it carefully on your chest. He’s a little nervous that he’ll be too heavy, but your small hands come up to tangle in his braids and scratch soothingly at his scalp. He allows his eyes to flutter shut, enjoying the plush softness of your breasts under his face.
“I like you very much, syulang.” He says, enjoying the pulse of your heartbeat beneath his head. “I am sorry that I have been slow to understand your interest.”
You laugh a little sleepily, craning your neck so that you can kiss his forehead before laying back again. “You certainly did a good job showing me your interest just now.”
“I will do more,” Tsu’tey promises, hardly even aware of what he’s saying. “I will collect kllpxiwll berries for you everyday, and go swimming as often as you like, and make you pretty jewelry, and keep you satisfied—”
You start to laugh before he even finishes.
“Who would’ve known a big grumpy asshole like you is capable of being so romantic.” You snicker as he nuzzles into your tits.
Your lack of a tail and blunt ears make it hard for him to read you, but he can tell by your tone of voice that you’re teasing him. He just curls around you, not minding at all. He enjoys the thought of proving to you exactly how romantic he can be – he has much to prove, and much to make up for.
“I am not grumpy now.” He mutters, turning his face so that it’s buried neatly in between your tits. He licks lazily over your left breast, savouring the feeling of the little silver barbell nestled in your nipple against his tongue.
You shiver, a soft little overwhelmed gasp escaping your lips as he kisses leisurely at your puffy and oversensitive nipples.
“No,” You murmur, and he can hear the fondness in your voice. “You’re not.”
Tsu’tey purrs, his whole body curving around you as he kisses absent-mindedly at your tits, his thoughts pleasantly hazy and somewhat nebulous.
“Breathe.” You remind him tiredly, your voice a little slurred around the edges with sleep.
Upon your urging, he lifts the stupid mask back up to his face and fits it clumsily over his mouth and nose. He wraps his arm around your waist, holds you tight, and just breathes as the two of you lay together, sated and satisfied.
6K notes · View notes
party-hearses · 1 year ago
Text
go ahead and cry, little girl
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pairing: joel x f!reader (no use of y/n)
rating: explicit, MDNI 18+
word count: 2.4k
summary: daddy makes everything better.
warnings/tags: explicit smut, pwp, established relationship, softdom!joel, pre/no outbreak (up to you baby), brief mention of alcohol, daddy kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, little one, little girl), dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, size kink (big joel is big), overstimulation, creampie. lmk if i’m forgetting anything!
a/n: i said i needed to have the feelings fucked out of me, right?
huge thank you to @bastardmandennis for letting me cry and be dramatic about this, and @nostalxgic for beta-ing, and always being excited about what i’m working on 🖤
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You’re two cocktails deep when Joel’s keys turn in the lock.
Anxious muscles carry you to meet him at the door, the overhead lights in the entryway low, cloaking you in shadow.
It startles him, a sharp hiss spit from between his teeth when he nearly bowls you over.
“Shit, baby. Scared me.”
He snaps the door shut behind him, massive frame silhouetted by the broken rays of light coming through the distorted glass.
“Daddy,” you whine in response, fingers already tugging on the cuff on his jean jacket, coaxing it off him.
It’s all he needs to hear.
Immediately, the jacket is on the floor, forgotten, and his hands are cradling your face tenderly.
“You need daddy?” he soothes, lips ghosting your own. You nod, doe-eyes wide and swimming with tears, bottom lip quivering in a pout.
“Baby…” he presses his mouth to yours hungrily, swallowing your pathetic hiccups, letting the way the tip of his tongue slides along the line of your lip finish his sentence. He opens you up for him, licking into you with a different kind of urgency, his tongue massaging hot against your own.
Open palms follow, slipping over the the sensitive flesh of your throat, thumbs tracing crescent moons into your jugular.
Your blood hums under his touch — blooms hot across the plane of your chest, thickens with anticipation. It would be too much, if it wasn’t exactly enough. If you didn’t need it.
His hands fall further, reassuring and insistent, until he’s scooping you up against him, one hand curved against the swell of your ass, fingertips edged just under the lace trim of your panties, the other splayed flat at the small of your back. You cling to him, arms locked around the heft of his neck, face nuzzled into the slope of his shoulder.
“Did my sweet baby have a bad day?” he mumbles into your hair, footfalls heavy in the narrow emptiness of the hallway leading to your bedroom.
You sniffle in response, tears still pinching at the backs of your eyes. He hums a condolence, a promise to make it better, into the delicate shell of your ear.
His arms tighten around you as he drops his body to the bed, positioning you securely in his lap. Absentmindedly, you grind down against him, desperate for him to have you now. To feel only him.
But you know he’ll take his time, given the way the hand on your back crawls up your spine to cradle the base of your skull in its palm. He laces his fingers in the roots of your hair, tugging just enough to tip your head back and meet your gaze.
Crystalline tears stream down the round of your cheeks, the torrid relief of finally being in Joel’s arms overwhelming. A small smile plays across his features when he sees them, eyes a cavernous, pooling black. He brings your face to his mouth, snaking his tongue out to catch the falling drops.
“You’re so pretty when you cry, baby girl.”
You whimper, writhing against his hold — a feeble attempt to roll your hips against his hard length eliciting a pitiful laugh from him.
“No, little one. You know the rules. Let daddy take care of you.”
Another hiccup, more tears, and a supplicant nod follow his command. He purrs against you, hand roaming around the gentle curve of your thigh to your center, where his thumb strokes soft lines across your throbbing clit. A reward for your capitulation.
You squirm under his ministrations, a dark pool of slick soaked across the material of your panties. His pressure remains consistent; practically feather-light and sumptuously tortuous.
The combination of soft lace and calloused skin drives you wild — makes you cant your hips forward, chasing his touch. Even though you know better.
He clicks his tongue against his teeth, tsk tsk, before skimming his other hand down the span of your arm to capture both your wrists in one massive palm behind your back. The muscles in your thighs quiver, knees dug into the bed on either side of him, overextended from the precarious act of balancing on his lap.
You flex your arms against his grasp, wiggling your ass for some kind of leverage. His grip only tightens — pushes forward to arch your body towards him, to press your chest flush to his.
“Little girl…” it’s a warning, his voice dripping as wet as your tears against the dip of your collarbone.
All you can manage is a broken mewl in the shape of his name, letters italicized and underlined with earnest desire. You know it’s exactly what he wants — to break you open completely, flesh and muscle and bone softened into something perfect and pliant.
“Need you, daddy. Need you,” you plead quietly.
His thumb strokes faster, harder. The zipper of his jeans bites into the place your thigh meets your pelvis, the sting of it sending shivers through you when he raises his hips.
“Say please, baby. Ask me nice.”
You don’t need to be told a second time.
“Please, daddy.”
He hums in pleased approval, pausing to skate the angle of his nose against the cut of your jaw.
“Let me undress you, little one.” He tugs your arms back, cupping your ass to steady you as you straighten your legs to shakily stand.
You watch the pull of his biceps through half-lidded eyes as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, laving tender kisses across your belly as he eases them down to your ankles. Your fingers clutch his disheveled curls for balance as he does, every graze of his skin against yours dizzying.
His hands slide back up your calves and thighs, languorous and reverent, beard scratching sinful against your softness. The clench of your cunt is persistent, slick dripping down the flesh of your thighs without your panties to stop it.
Your lashes flutter closed, bitten lips popping open as you let the feel of him consume you. It’s the sweep of his fingers that you focus on as they climb up, up, up, bypassing the place you need his touch most, to delve below your t-shirt.
He cups the fullness of your tits there, swiping his thumbs across your sensitive nipples before rolling them to taut peaks between his deft fingers. Sparks of pleasurepain wind through you when he pinches and pulls at them, soft moans decorating the space between your bodies.
The shirt comes off, then, his need growing to mirror your own, his touch more urgent — more desperate. His mouth finds your nipples immediately, sucking each into his mouth to swirl his tongue around the tight buds one at a time.
You tug at his curls gently, heat curving through your limbs. You’re soaked, cunt walls fluttering around nothing, head tipped back and chest heaving. Am I broken enough yet, daddy?
Pulling off your swollen nipple with a pop, he’s up and shucking his own clothing off as fast as you’ve ever seen him. It’s less than a minute before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, hauling your smaller body up the length of the bed to situate your dripping core directly over his mouth.
Your head swims, hands scrambling for purchase on the lip of the headboard before you’re even able to fully process the shift. He wastes no time in hooking his arms over your thighs, spreading you open above him, big brown eyes alight as they watch you flush and squirm.
He licks a broad stripe through your folds slowly, savoring the taste of you. He repeats the action, your fingernails digging divots into cheap wood with every lap. It’s only when you rock against his face rhythmically that he speeds up, pointed tongue flicking against your aching clit expertly. He circles it once, twice, three times before suctioning his lips around the bundle of nerves. The change in pressure makes you buck against him involuntarily, body trembling as he holds your firmly against his mouth.
It’s inescapable, but it’s everything you asked for.
Fingers pressing bruises into your thighs, he doesn’t let up licking figure eights into your folds, nudging his nose against the blinding ache of your clit.
“Daddy, daddy, daddyyy,” you cry, the tense stretch of your muscles ready to snap.
“I know, baby girl, I know,” he coos in response, words tangled by his tongue’s exploration of your velvet center. He dips it further inside you, collecting your slick on the flat of the muscle to drag it back up to your oversensitive bud.
Every nerve ending in your body lights up iridescent, heat swirling up the column of your spine. It’s the oblivion that you’ve been begging for since Joel walked in the front door, and your limbs tremble with deliverance.
He licks you through the aftershocks, tongue unrelenting against you. You whimper, hypersensitive, dropping one hand to card through his sweat-damp hair, a gentle insistence for him to slow down.
But he’s in control, and he knows he’s in control, so he drives his tongue into you as far as he can before laving short, quick strokes over your clit. You’re helpless to it, only able to push down against him, to let him draw another orgasm out of your quaking cunt.
Your second orgasm approaches too quickly, your body overwrought and writhing, slick flooding Joel’s waiting mouth. The noises he’s making are downright obscene, slurping like it’s the first meal he’s had in weeks, cheeks and beard sticky with you.
Panting brokenly, tears welling up in your eyes again, you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, eyes blazing when you look down at him desperately.
“Cry for me, little girl.” He draws his mouth back just enough to ensure that you hear him — that you understand him.
“Da—” you choke out a sob, knowing that he won’t let you go until you obey.
“Cry for me, and I’ll fuck you like the good girl you are.”
Your drag your bottom lip between your teeth, throat closing around the pleading moans hanging in the warm air of the bedroom.
The tears finally fall, streaming and stormy, down your burning cheeks. Faster than before, the stress and anxiety of the day finally ripping free from the cavern of your chest.
Like he knew exactly what you needed, more so than even you.
They’re heaving sobs, now, a combination of intense relief and overstimulation, Joel’s heart beating hard and angry beneath you. He moans against your pussy, determined to undo you completely, lapping at your clit with reckless abandon.
And there you are again — your third orgasm ripping through you so overwhelmingly that your entire body goes slack, slick spilling down the corners of Joel’s mouth, matting in the length of his dark curls. You succumb to it completely, to him completely.
“There she is, little one. There’s my sweet baby girl.”
And you are — sweet and pliant, overly-sated in the most erotic of ways, and you know without seeing that Joel’s erect cock is absolutely weeping pre-cum.
He doesn’t need to exert much effort to flip you over, to settle you against the pillows, to pose your supple limbs exactly as he wants them. All you can do is watch him through glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks flush and glistening, the smallest of watery smiles pulling at the corners of your mouth.
Ghosting a knuckle over your soaking center, he leans forward to pepper your jaw with warm kisses, something akin to adoration glowing in his amber irises.
“Okay, baby girl?”
You meet his scorching gaze, nodding demurely. Yes, daddy. Of course, daddy. Take what you need, daddy.
Slipping two fingers into your tight heat, Joel works you open with little resistance. It doesn’t matter how many years you’ve been together, taking him in his entirety is always a stretch. He crooks his fingers to meet that spongy spot inside you, soft strokes making your eyes roll back in your head. But it’s less urgent, less demanding.
The gentleness with which he touches you makes you feel warm all over, a soft roll of your veins under his hands.
But as gentle as he’s being now, you know he needs just as much as you did, pupils blow-out with lust, breathing shattered.
As soon as he draws his fingers out of you, you lift your hand to his length, running the tips of your fingers along the underside of his twitching cock. He swallows hard, rocking his hips forward, allowing you to grasp him in your palm. A strangled groan follows, always so sensitive to your touch.
“Put it in, daddy.”
He drops his head, curls flopping into his eyes, while he grips the base of his cock in his hand to ease the head, flushed a furious red, into your entrance.
You sigh contentedly, already feeling stretched and stuffed as your warmth swallows him inch by inch. No one has ever filled you like he does, has ever undone you like he does.
His hard length disappears inside of you, your walls gripping him impossibly tightly. This is your favorite part — the part where you adjust to his size, where the hint of a painful sting wanes into something utterly delicious. Something you can’t live without.
The thrusts are slow at first, his speed gradually increasing as your pussy pulses around him. Soon enough he’s pumping into you in an allegro tempo — mirroring the quick, bright pace of your heartbeat. You push into his thrusts, running your fingernails over the sticky flesh of his ribcage above you.
He’s so much — hips snapping against you, cock massaging your walls salaciously.
“F-fuck, baby girl,” he stutters, driving into you harder, licking a hot stripe of the column of your throat. He nestles there, nose pressed just below your ear, soft growls snapping from between his teeth. “Gonna c-cum.”
“Cum for me daddy,” you purr, thighs tightening around him, sucking him in deeper. He grinds down into you, pulling out only enough to slam back inside, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix.
One more buck and he’s done for, spilling thick inside of you, filling you completely. He snarls a string of dark moans and expletives, drawing his hips back just to push inside again, edging his cum deeper into you.
It’s perfect.
He collapses to the side of you, chest rising and falling raggedly. You automatically curl into his side, pleased when he wriggles his arm beneath you to stroke his fingers across the curve of your ass.
“What do you say, little girl?”
“Thank you, daddy.”
3K notes · View notes
httpsserene · 6 months ago
Note
Speaking of Mr. Daniel, we all know that he injured himself a while ago. How about the reader faking an orgasm because she doesn’t want to tire or injure him? Daniel frowns immediately upon noticing, but the nurse kicks you out because it’s past hours, and he's longing for the reader. He tries to grab the reader to come back but winces in pain, proving the reader's point. Your pleasure is extremely important to him so he’ll stop functioning if you said otherwise.
𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
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𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬
Summary: When Daniel isn’t feeling well, it’s no hardship for her to take of him. Except this time, he broke his hand and is proceeding to be an absolute nightmare to take care of. They haven’t had sex since before the accident in Zandvoort because she’s afraid that somehow she’ll end up aggravating his injury. Daniel, however, has convinced himself that he only exists to bring her pleasure. So, she comes up with a plan to soothe his service dom tendencies. Enter, Operation Fake Orgasm. How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: she’s a terrible actress. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black-coded!reader(her skintone isn't referenced but she has braids.) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. orgasm/delay denial. hurt/comfort. caretaking. servicedom!daniel. discussion of pain medication, injuries, and hospitals. dom/sub undertones. sub/shy!reader. praise kink mentioned. sensual beard shaving (it's hot). wet dreams. somnophilia. safe, sane, and consensual. oral sex (m and f receiving). vaginal sex. fake orgasm. mentioned multiple orgasms. Word Count: 3.6k words
Author's Notes: if the tags scare you, i promise it's not that bad!
secondly, thank you for the patience concerning the delay. my sister is doing a lot better now! she had an allergic reaction to pollen; she inhaled so much that her lungs freaked the fuck out on her, and i was in the hospital from 9am-9pm all day. finally got back home so i'm posting it, way late, but at least it's on the same day.
to make up for it, even though my lil sis was nearly taken out by the environment (i'm joking i love her i'm just being a big sister rn), i am releasing episode four on friday! and episode five on either tuesday or wednesday next week!
i hope you all like this episode xxx
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prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻
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The sound of bedsheets ruffling contrasts with the monotonous beeps of the heart monitor filling the sterile hospital room; the noise is more than enough to have you snapping your head away from your phone to look at your boyfriend. Daniel’s awake and he meets your eyes with a soft groan. You coo at him softly, squeezing his hand gently as he reorients himself.
“What time ‘st?” Daniel croaks out. You cringe at the sound of his dry speech and quickly hand him the glass of water resting at his bedside.
“It’s getting late, baby,” you hum, not failing to notice the slight wince he does when his cast knocks against the bed rail, “I sent Michael back to the hotel not too long ago, around 7. Charles, Lando, Max, and Oscar came and kept me company while you were in surgery. Oscar, I think, was pretty shaken up still—to me, I could tell he felt a little guilty that you’re here with a broken hand and he’s as right rain—so, maybe when you’re more clear-headed you can reach out to him. Yuki and Michael were here the first time you woke up. Still, you were so high on your pain medication cocktail, that I think you were hearing colors and seeing sounds,” you break from your ramble, suddenly standing and reaching over the bed to press the call button, remembering the nurse told you to alert her as soon as he woke again.
“Yes?” Daniel offers, unsure of how to respond to the edge in your tone, “I’m feeling better by the way—.”
A hysterical giggle slips from your lips, and you can see the regret wash over his face when you meet his eyes with a crazed look, “Forgive me, for not asking how you were feeling right away Daniel. It’s almost like, my brain isn’t working properly because I’m fucking worried about you. Yeah? I watched you crash into the barriers, and I heard you in pain—I called everyone on your team to get updates and nobody answered! So, I got on the next flight to Zandvoort after Michael finally texted me with updates, with no luggage, just my phone and a change of clothes—so forgive me, for not checking in on you right away, after you didn’t call me once,” you blink rapidly and Daniel softens, clearly it was a terrible time to deflect with humor, he just hates to see you worry about him, that’s why he avoided calling. He’s usually the one taking care of you.
“A-are you feeling better, though?” you ask shakily, deflating quickly at the sight of his warm brown eyes, “You’re going to set off every metal detector for the foreseeable future.”
“It’s like a 6 out 10 on the pain scale—”
“That’s what I’m here for,” the nurse interrupts in accented English, smiling at the two of you briefly before she moves to Daniel’s side and catching him up on the outcome of the surgery and discussing pain medication. 
“Visiting hours ended an hour ago,” the nurse speaks to you directly, “Did nobody come to escort you out?”
You shake your head in surprise, the time on your phone reads 9 PM—you have no recollection of time passing that quickly since Michael left. Gathering your few belongings, you lean down to kiss Daniel gently, “Be good for the doctors and nurses, Danny. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?”
“No, what—she can’t stay?” Daniel begs the nurse, and she frowns at him apologetically.
Ruffling his hair, you continue, “It’s not her fault—she’s just doing her job. And, we’re besties now,” Daniel stares at you confused, “She’s been coming to check up on me the entire time you decided to cosplay Sleeping Beauty so if you decide to be difficult overnight, she will not hesitate to snitch on you to me. Understand?”
Daniel swallows before nodding jerkily, “Can I have another kiss?”
It’s an easy ask for you to fulfill; but as your lips barely brush his, Daniel hisses out in pain. He tried to use his left hand to pull you closer to him, obviously aggravating the injury. You exclaim worriedly and he tries to pretend that the flare of pain wasn’t that severe. But, as the nurse reassures you that the pain meds will kick in and he’ll go right to sleep, you’ve already decided: that hand will never be in a situation that causes Daniel unnecessary pain again. 
You tell Daniel that same sentence on the flight back to Monaco. He assumed that meant you’d force him to wear a sling or have it constantly cushioned and elevated (which you did anyway). However, he should’ve asked you to elaborate because he was completely blindsided to learn that you really meant all situations. 
You may have gone overboard the first week. You’re well aware that his hand is the only broken thing on his body, but you pamper him as if he’s bedridden with the most severe flu seen in the last century. You cook and order him hearty meals, you have alarms set for when he needs to take his medication, you shower with him to make sure he doesn’t wet his cast—where nothing sexual happens, you killed the vibe the first time he insinuated shower sex in conversation, mentioning the statistics of shower-related deaths—you quickly fulfill all of his requests, even if it’s sitting through a movie you find tasteless; yet, you refuse to fulfill one: sex. 
The doctor pulled you aside while Daniel was getting dressed to be discharged and told you to make sure he’s very careful with his arm, slow and controlled movements only, nothing abrupt. 
And, if there’s one word to describe Daniel during sex, it would probably be abrupt. 
He can’t keep his hands off of you when he’s uninjured. From your first time with Daniel, he showed and proved just how much your pleasure is important to him—he made sure that you understood that he lives and breathes to make you satisfied. But, you also know that he’d ignore his pain if it meant he was making you feel good; and, that’s not something you can risk, not with an injury that could affect his career if it doesn’t heal properly. 
You’ve reiterated that to him multiple times when Daniel tries to deepen kisses, hoping you’ll forget about your stupid sex ban and let him make you feel good. He’s not used to going this long without making sure you’re sexually satisfied. You don’t even allow him to guide you through masturbation, because you know you won’t be satisfied with it even if you get off—it’ll only lead to you falling into his lap begging for more. 
On the eighth day, you’re sitting in Daniel’s lap on the couch, rubbing ointment into the bruises left by the seatbelts of the car. You thought he was focused on watching the entire Dutch Grand Prix he missed out on, not thinking much of how he’s toying with the length of your braids with his uninjured hand. 
You think nothing of the soft sighs, moans, and groans he’s letting out of his mouth as you lightly massage him. All of these noises are common reactions to a sensation that feels good. It sucks that they happen to sound very similar to the moans Daniel makes when he initially fucks into you. You’re just a girl with needs that Daniel never fails to take care of; you’re not used to this, for the same reason Daniel can’t understand why you won’t let him get you off. 
Then, Daniel gasps out a soft ‘fuck’ that has no reason to be sounding that lustful and you start to squirm in his lap. You mindlessly continue to massage him, not exactly proud of the way you continue to strain your ears to hear his noises—and on one particular shift of your hips, you brush across his hard-on that wasn’t there a few minutes ago, and automatically fly off his lap.
In the frantic movement, Daniel tried to use both of his hands to keep you in his lap, irritating his broken hand. You flutter around him worriedly, your words a mix of chastising and displeasure. You don’t hesitate to say that this is exactly why the sex ban is in place (Daniel pleaded that it was a fluke, but you’re not eager to put that to the test).
Three days pass before Daniel deems you relaxed enough to have another attempt at seducing you into an orgasm or two. He approached you in the evening after you had watched him like a hawk as he took his pain medication. He wants you to shave his beard. It’s grown out some since he hasn’t shaved in a week or so. You’re not a professional beard shaver or anything, but you can imagine it’s difficult to shave your face with one hand. And of course, you’d jump at any opportunity to help out your boyfriend and allow him to relax and look pretty. After an unnecessarily long tutorial, Daniel pretends to have 100% faith in your skills and lets you take the first swipe across his cheek. You painstakingly use slow movements and light pressure, not forgetting to pull his skin tight with your other hand and clean the razor off with every stroke. You feel him tense underneath you as you ready to attempt shaving along his jawline. 
Pulling back at the last second, you make to smack his shoulder before hesitating and pinching him instead (it’s his left arm, you don’t want to jostle his cast resting on the bathroom vanity), ignoring his yelp you nag him, “Well, don’t act like I’m about to gouge your throat out or anything! I can feel you freeze up underneath me—it’s not like I want to cut you. I already have to stare at your ugly face every day, I don’t want to make it worse.”
Daniel pretends to be offended at your attack and the two of you bicker back and forth before settling down. The fake roast session calmed Daniel enough that when you brought the razor to his jaw, he remained relaxed. 
You smoothly shave the small area of skin and turn to clean the razor when Daniel speaks softly, “You’re so good,” a slight pause follows, “at this.” 
The praise tingles down your spine and you think nothing of it. Except, it continues. With nearly every swipe along his jaw, he continues to murmur praise with lidded eyes and an alluring tone. Whispers along the lines of ‘good girl,’ ‘just like that,’ ‘you’re so sweet to me,’ and paired with his stare dancing across your face, you dread the moment you finish shaving him. As your razor ventures down his throat, the air grows thick with intimacy. It’s the result of your boyfriend trusting you to repeatedly brush a blade along his throat and your unfortunate kink for praise and acts of service. With the last brush of the razor, you gently set it down on the vanity, exchanging it for cloth you wet with hot water. Ringing it out thoroughly, you gently begin to wipe Daniel’s face avoiding eye contact. When you swipe around his lips, you get distracted by their flushed color, a result of when Daniel bit his lip to make the skin underneath taut for you to shave. His tongue slips out to wet them and you can’t help but smash your lips to his.
It feels euphoric. You’re kissing him frantically, moaning into his mouth without inhibition, and you can feel him laugh as he struggles to match your desperate pace. His hand squeezes at your waist, anchoring you yet furthering your desperation at the strong grip as you try to climb him like a tree, tugging at his hair, shirt, pants, anything you can reach. At this point, Daniel would’ve had a hand in your hair, tugging at your scalp sharply a couple of times to rein you in and move you to his rhythm. You’re a little lost at the missing sensation and you pull away to pout at Daniel like you always do when he spends too much time teasing you.
It takes one look at his blown pupils, smug smile, and heaving chest before it jogs your memory. You step backward quickly to put space between you guys, raising a hand when you see him open his mouth, knowing he’s only going to convince you to get naked for him.
“I’m going to bed,” you state with a pointed finger, “You, are going to get in the shower, with cold water, and think about what you did wrong. And! You will not wake me up for sex.”
Daniel’s face falls, and you can tell he expected you to break, “Wait—you don’t let me shower by myself, what if I fall?”
You turn and leave the room, “It would be divine intervention. Karma, for trying to get me to break my rule.”
Daniel doesn’t wake you when he slips into bed, but you lose the benefit of going to sleep early when you jolt awake before sunrise. Your mouth is dry and your panties are embarrassingly wet. You can’t recall a single detail of your dream. Still, your legs are trembling at whatever scenario your brain decided to torment you with. 
Fuck it. Or fuck him, literally.
That makes sense. You’re going to ride Daniel, it’s the perfect position to make sure he doesn’t move his arm. You work him up beforehand so hopefully he won’t last as long; Daniel has unparalleled stamina usually, but with you constantly denying him for a while…he may wind up quicker. As soon as he cums, you’ll fake yours as well—because he’s only pleased if you're satisfied, otherwise he’ll attempt a round two. It’s that easy, right? You turn on your side and stare at Daniel, his face relaxed as he sleeps. Your synapses start firing as the plan comes to life. The two of you have discussed somnophilia, more on you as the receiving party. Daniel, of course, offered himself to you on a silver platter—any taste of you using him to get off? That’s always going to be a yes from him. So, yes. It is that easy.
You pull the duvet down to the edge of the bed and quietly shift to hover over Daniel’s thighs, never more thankful that he decided to wear only briefs to bed. And that he’s already half-hard; you’re extremely happy that the two of you don’t have a hand on how creative your dreams can get. He doesn’t shift when you pull his cock from underneath his briefs, carefully dragging them
down just enough to not be a bother. He stays under as you get him hard, it only takes a few strokes and some teasing along a vein on the underside. You rise slightly, sucking on two of your fingers before bringing them to rest along your entrance. It’s an annoying experience, you can’t remember the last time you had to stretch yourself out—Daniel’s spoiled you. The feeling of your fingers inside of you is underwhelming, the slight tinge of pleasure would be multiplied if it were him instead but; this is not for you. You are simply performing tonight.
You slide your fingers out and decide on getting Daniel as close to the edge as you can before he wakes up. You lean down to mouth at the head of his cock, knowing it’s incredibly sensitive and the sensation pushes him to the edge quicker than anything else. It can’t be more than a couple of strained minutes—your eyes and ears peeled to make sure you don’t miss any signs of Daniel starting to awaken. Thankfully, you feel him start to pulse along your tongue, a sure sign that he’s getting there.
You pull off, taking a second to breathe as you rest your head on his hip. With one last reassuring exhale, you move to straddle him, one hand underneath you to guide his length to your pussy. The second his head pops into you, you let out a pitiful whimper, eyelids fluttering shut, and your legs begin trembling again. Another realization hits you as you struggle to silently take all of Daniel.
You can’t recall a single time Daniel had forced you to be quiet. He’s always trying to make you scream his name. If he needs to hide your noises he muffles them with a hand over your mouth or his fingers in your mouth. Naturally, you use his tricks and do the same. With two of your fingers shoved in your mouth, you quiet your sounds as your ass meets your (somehow still) sleeping boyfriend's thighs. It feels like he’s in your throat; you know that no matter how long it takes you to make him cum, you’re going to be aching tomorrow. You begin to grind against him, whimpering softened around your digits. You slowly increase your rhythm up to a bounce, doing your best to squeeze around him—Daniel has mentioned before that he can’t resist cumming when you feel like you're trying to keep him inside of you and never let him pull out.
It must work because suddenly Daniel’s hips rock up into yours, and he’s awake with a singular breathy moan of, “Yes—oh, I thought I was still dreaming.”
You laugh airily, letting your spit-slicken fingers fall from your mouth and drop to press against your clit (you’re not actually, you’ve missed it by a mile but it’s all about convincing Daniel), avoiding meeting his eyes knowing Danny will assume it’s under the pretense of you being shy (once again, yes you are incredibly mortified, but you know he’ll be able to tell that you're faking this in a split second).
“H-how long,” Daniel moans out crackly, his abdomen contracting underneath you, “Have you been at this? ‘Gonna make me cum already.”
You nod frantically, moaning out loudly as if you’re on the edge as well. Daniel gets his feet planted and thrusts up into you forcefully enough that your moans turn real. Throwing your head back so he doesn’t see your face in case it gives you away, you continue to moan out exaggeratedly as you feel him cum inside you, pitching your voice and shuddering as if you released as well.
“What the fuck was that?” Daniel commands quietly.
You slump forward, sliding off his softening length and nuzzling into his neck to pretend like you didn’t hear him and to hide. He lets you avoid answering the first time he asks. He takes his good hand and fists his hand in the braids along the nape of your neck and tightens his grasp enough to get you to gasp.
“Mhm. When you cum, baby,” he starts softly, “That’s the quietest you ever get during sex. Usually, it’s because you choke on your breath, even though I remind you to breathe through it every time. You do this cute little thing where you try to slam your thighs shut around me, it doesn’t matter if it’s my hand, my head, or my hips, you try to crush me. It’s also one of the only times during sex when you make eye contact with me on your own, well depending on what position I have you in. I won’t repeat myself.”
You mumble into his chest fitfully before sitting up, “I didn’t want you to hurt your hand, okay? That’s all. During sex, you can never stop touching me and I was afraid that somehow you’d treat your hand a little too roughly and then, boom, you’ll never drive a Formula One car again—”
“Calm down, babe,” Daniel soothes you, bringing his right hand to massage your hip, “I think you’ve overdramatized my injury in your head a little bit. Firstly, I don’t even care if my hand suddenly fell off—genuinely, never deprive me of making you feel good. That hurts me more than my hand aches. Secondly, this entire time I didn’t even move my left hand off the bed. See?”
You look down at his hand and nod once. This entire time you enforced a needless sex ban when you could’ve been riding a high every day.
“Now, if you could be kind enough to let me restore my ego,” Daniel taps you on the ass so you rise to kneel over him, “C’mere and sit on my face.”
You hesitate, the thought of pretending to deny him crosses your mind, but you already shorted yourself of one orgasm tonight. That’s how you find yourself riding Daniel’s face, embarrassingly almost losing control of your legs at the first knock of his nose against your clit. Your boyfriend has mastered the skill of eating pussy and that’s why you feel no shame in just how quickly a few targeted thrusts of his tongue and the pressure of his nose have you shattering apart above him. And as Daniel said, you do choke on your breath as you climax, your legs tighten around his head as well—and you don’t have the strength to be humiliated at how he knows your body better than yourself.
Daniel guides you off his mouth and lays you down by his side only using the uninjured arm, and the care and strength behind that movement sends you shaking again through the aftershock and come down. 
Daniel coaxes you onto your back and nudges your legs open to slide in between them. He trails the fingers of his right hand across your fluttering folds, before spreading you open with two fingers, enamored at the way your relaxed entrance winks at him. 
“You can give me one or two more right? I think you need a reminder of how much I thrive off of making you feel good, pretty girl. Let’s see how many more I can get out of you before the sunrise.”
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© httpsserene 2023
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wonlovie · 1 year ago
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— ALWAYS.
After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.
— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)
— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]
— word count. 14.3k
— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME
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SIXTEEN DAYS.
When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.
Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal. 
Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.
You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.
The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.
Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex. 
It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking. 
You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.
“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”
Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history. 
Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to. 
And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.
“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge. 
Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.
A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.
When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name. 
Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.
A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”
Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.
Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”
You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.
Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).
“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”
“My what?”
Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”
“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”
“You get what I mean, sweets.” 
You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.
Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.
The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”
He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.
Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.
He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.
In other words, he was hot.
“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”
Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.
“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.
For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes. 
“It’s still weird to me.”
Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”
He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.
You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.
“You still hung up about it?”
Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”
He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”
You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”
Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.
Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.
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You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive. 
Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.
Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.
Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.
Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”
“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”
“Jake, we were five.”
“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.
Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg. 
“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.
With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”
By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you. 
“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”
You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”
Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”
“For you? Always.”
Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”
Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”
Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.
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Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.
Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.
3:02 a.m.
As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow. 
Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.
Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”
Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”
“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”
Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance. 
Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”
He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”
You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips. 
Jake did not sleep well that night.
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FOURTEEN DAYS.
Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.
It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.
“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”
You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”
Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”
You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.”
Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”
“How do you know I haven’t?”
Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”
Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.
You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”
You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”
 He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”
“My birth year?”
He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.
He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.
Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!
“Last night, while you slept.”
You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.
His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”
Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”
Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”
You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”
It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.
An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”
Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”
You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?” 
As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning. 
The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running. 
Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”
Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”
You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”
Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.
“Oh, it’s you!”
To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.
“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.
Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”
You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”
The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”
Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”
Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.
You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.
Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.
Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”
Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists. 
In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.
Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop. 
You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.
“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”
“A room for two, please,” said Jake.
The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”
You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed. 
It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide. 
“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”
Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”
You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”
Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.
In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him. 
He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.
“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.
Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”
Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.
“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”
Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.
“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down. 
Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”
Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.
“Why did you move so far?”
You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”
“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”
The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”
Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”
“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”
Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”
His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”
He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.
Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.
“Sweets, I’m sorry—” 
You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”
You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”
“With you, never, sweets.”
You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”
Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”
Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”
Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”
The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.
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You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.
Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.
“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”
He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten. 
His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”
He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…
You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.
Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?
The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—
No. You need to stop.
Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.
“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep. 
Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.
Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy. 
You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.
“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.
Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.
Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.
“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.
“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”
It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”
You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.
Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”
Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”
He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”
“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”
He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.
“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.
He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you. 
“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.
When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”
Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.
Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely. 
The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.
When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.
“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.
You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.
He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.
When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”
You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”
You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.
He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn. 
“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”
Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 
Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.
You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom. 
The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.
Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.
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ONE DAY.
Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.
Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.
As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.
“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.
So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.
Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”
Never, he thought.
That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.
In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.
He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not. 
Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.
Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.
He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.
“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.
“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.
“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.
“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.
If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.
“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”
Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”
He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”
You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.
You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”
You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”
He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.
“Yeah? Trust me?”
“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”
Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.
After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”
Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.
The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting.  “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.
The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.
You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”
At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.
His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.
He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.
Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.
“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.
“Hmm?”
“When… When you said you loved me.”
You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.
“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”
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THREE HOURS.
Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.
Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself
Are you even awake? 
Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century
Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”
At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.
“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”
Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”
You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.
The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.
When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.
He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.
Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.
Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch. 
“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.
“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.
You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.
Clearing your throat, you looked forward.
When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.
When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.
The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.
The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.
The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration? 
When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.
He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”
You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”
“Is it Heeseung?”
His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”
“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.” 
Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”
Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”
It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”
He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”
“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.
Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”
But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.
“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.
“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”
Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.
When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”
He met your eyes before kissing you again. 
You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”
Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.
“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”
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©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.
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leejenowrld · 10 months ago
Text
ghostin' (one)
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pairing na jaemin x y/n (fem)
word count 14.4k
genre smut, fluff, angst, situationship vibes, college au
synopsis after being brutally dumped by your ex hyunjin, you’re living a broken life, lost in the consumption of getting high and heartbreak. then you meet na jaemin, a one-night stand transforms into a bond. he becomes the catalyst for your healing. but can you genuinely break free from the attachment to your toxic ex? between newfound connection and lingering attachments, will you move on or hold on?
one | two | three | four
chapter warnings very broken, fragile, weak, intoxicated mc (not so much in the 1st chapter just wait lmao) cute friendship moments, girl moments, appearances from other '00 liners, explicit language, swearing, mention of drugs, smoking and alcohol, getting high, under the influence, unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral (f receiving) overuse of ‘baby,’ ass slapping, daddy kink, size kink and training, dirty talk, big cock jaemin, soft dom jaemin, groping, fingering, nipple sucking, a moment (the girls playing matchmaker) which teases all the other fics in the series which you can see about here, introverted, chill, emotionally intelligent, laid back, mysterious jaemin, jaemin with a darker side, a very sexy jaemin, black haired jaemin, jaemin who has no flaws
author note haerin is the protagonist (y/n) in my one shot mfal, which can be read here. she’s a side character in this so i wanted to give her a name so avoid confusion for myself lmao. but you can still imagine haerin as mfal!y/n. also there’s a lot of jeno and haerin in this chapter, a lot of friend moments, girl moments, jaemin only makes an appearance at the end. please stay patient and trust me!! the wait is worth it. he comes in at the perfect time :) i wanted to make this more friendship group based and explore the side characters compared to mfal, so :))) enjoy. also hana is heejin now from mfal! i changed her name, sorry about my bad planning, this is the second story that i’ve ever written (mfal my first) so i’m still learning and making mistakes. hana is an og so i didn’t wanna give her a popular idols name!! still need to change her name in mfal lol
part of neo heartbreaker series, same universe as mfal but can be read as a standalone. comment to be added to the tag list for future parts!! this is a 4 part series
“i know that it breaks your heart when i cry again, over him, i know that it breaks your heart when i cry again, instead of ghostin’ him”
playlist ariana grande ghostin, prettymuch phases, ghosting txt,
♥♥♥♥
“Jeno told me to show you this.”
You point your phone in Haerin’s face, eyes closed as she grips the device in her hands, mouth watering as she lets out a sigh, fighting her urges but she gives in, whining about Jeno’s ‘monster cock’ and how much she loved and missed it, how she wanted to fuck herself dumb with it… something like that. You chose to drown her words out. Hana let’s out a sound of realisation from beside you, understanding why your eyes were closed. It’s because you didn’t want to see Jeno’s cock.
“Why is he sending you that photo?” Hana asks, eyes puzzled.
“It’s because Haerin is ignoring all his texts and calls so he told me he’d make me my favourite dinner for a week if I shoved the photo of his cock in her face.” You explain, Hana giving you a knowing nod. Who would refuse that offer? Lee Jeno belonged on master chef.
“Well you can tell him he can shove his cock in his own mouth.” Haerin shakes her head furiously, words high pitched and spoken with anger. She sneaks a final glance and lets out one last whimper before handing you your phone back.
You nod, fingers typing away.
you - she basically said fuck you and that you can shove your own cock in your own mouth
jeno - bet my baby was moaning at the photo though. i know what she’s like
jeno - needy slut tries to act like she doesn’t want me when she’s mad at me
jeno - when she wants me even more
you - seems like something you should text her!
jeno - bitch that’s the point she’s ignoring me
“I'm gonna kill Jeno." You look up from your phone, your gaze shifting to Hana as you share amused glances, spotting a very annoyed and pissed-off Haerin sitting opposite you both in the canteen. It's been a long day of back-to-back lectures, and Haerin has been frustrated throughout them all. Uncharacteristically, she hasn't been paying attention in class, even though she's easily the top student and smarter than every single one of her peers.
She swirls her noodles around with her chopsticks, more focused on her irritation than her meal. "Why did he leave so early this morning?" You question.
"You tell me." Haerin exclaims, her voice raising a few octaves as she shakes her head in frustration.
"Wait, why are you pissed off at him again?" Hana asks in confusion.
"It's Jeno."
“Yeah I know, I asked why –”
"He was about to go down on me, but then he got an 'important' phone call, said sorry and left." Haerin explains with a huff. "I say 'about,' but he was already inside of me! He had just put his cock into me and then left before he started fucking me!!!!" Anger seeps through Haerin as she recalls the incident.
You and Heejin share a look, raising your eyebrows and holding back a laugh. Haerin and her boyfriend, Jeno, have a lot of sex. They're intimate every day, and he practically lives with you three girls. You admire the fact that they're deeply in love, evident to everyone around (and sometimes heard), but you're also put off by how frequently they engage in sexual activities. You and your roommate Heejin have become too accustomed to walking into any room in the house and seeing Haerin getting her back blown out.
“I need him so fucking bad that I’m genuinely kill the next person I see if they’re not him. I’m so fucking stressed right now and getting my back blown out by him is the only solution. I just need him to slap my pussy and my ass and spit in my mouth. I need him to choke me and I need his cum in my mouth or in me!!! Fuck I need his babies. I just need his cock shoved down my throat, I need him to wipe the drool from my cheeks after I’ve sucked him off, I need him to fuck my throat, I need him to tie my hair up for me and move the strands that get stuck in his mouth when I’m sucking his cock.”
Hana lets out a loud laugh at how the chatter on the tables surrounding the three of you had silenced completely, obviously in reaction to Haerin’s loud and incredibly sexual words. She usually had no filter when it came to the desires she shared with her boyfriend.
Haerin cries out, scrolling through photos on her camera roll and you wish you wouldn’t have glanced her way but you’re pretty sure you see Jeno’s cock grace her phone screen, (you also wish you didn’t know what it looked like.) Your eyes widen in shock as she lets out the loudest and horniest moan you’ve ever heard, she wasn’t even trying to conceal it, clearly not caring about who hears. Her mouth waters at the photos she has of him saved on her phone.
Haerin continues complaining, staring down at her noodles with a scowl, gaze moving to her phone once again and rapidly scrolling through the photos. "We haven't had sex since like… last night!"
You huff, contemplating how Haerin, if in your shoes, would likely struggle. The memory of your last intimate encounter, five months ago, casts a shadow, and a momentary sadness clouds your features. Shaking off those feelings, you ignore Hana’s observant gaze – she notices everything. How is she so observant? You disregard the look she's giving you, hoping she won't give it any more attention.
A sigh of relief escapes when Haerin continues to complain, Hana’s attention shifting.
"I'm going crazy.” Haerin breathes heavily, her eyes widening. "I keep crossing my legs, but nothing feels like him."
Her voice and expression turn darker. "I wanted to cut his dick off, especially when he kissed me and said he'd make it up to me."
Your eyebrows raise. "That's quite sweet, though?" You've seen the way Jeno kisses Haerin. If you were ever kissed like that, you'd melt. You'd complain about nothing. The heavy feeling overtakes your heart once more when you remember that once upon a time, you were kissed like that.
"Isn't this the third time this week it's happened?" Hana questions.
Haerin nods immediately. "He keeps saying sorry, telling me he can't tell me where he goes off to, but I know where he's going and who he's seeing. He doesn't need to tell me to know."
"And I know you guys already have an idea. If you think about it, it's not difficult to figure out."
The three of you say "Jaemin" unanimously.
"I swear you said that the only time he'll leave you mid-sex is for one reason... it's Jaemin.” Hana mumbles. Her attention is more focused on taking Haerin's chopsticks from her hand, swirling around her noodles, and then feeding her. Irritation almost overtakes her at the sight of Haerin staring down at a plate of empty food.
"Has he fallen off the face of the earth?" You question, thinking about the last time you saw him. You didn't know Jaemin that well. All you knew was that he was the best friend of your best friend's boyfriend, and he occasionally hung out with the group. But you don't think you've heard him mutter more than three words, ever. He was quiet and didn’t like speaking, there was nothing wrong with that, you was like that too..
When you don't get an answer, you return to reality and find a choking Haerin, obviously struggling to eat her noodles. Hana swiftly hits her back and offers water to ease the situation. Once the scene simmers down, Haerin, with a few chesty coughs, explains, "Jeno's not telling me everything because he has this sworn secrecy not to air out his best friend's personal life and problems to his girlfriend. But from the small things I've seen and heard around, I hear that Yeeun dumped him –"
"I heard that Yeeun cheated on him and he's literally on his death bed, depressed and getting high all the time," Hana whispers.
"I heard that she left the country and he tried to follow her." Haerin whispers back. The two of them go back and forth on rumors and speculations, which you observe, choosing not to get involved. Instead, you lean back and watch with a grin. You were never too interested in partaking in gossiping and bitching; it wasn't your thing, but you don't deny that hearing it was always good.
The gossiping comes to an end when they realize they're getting nowhere. You and Hana both turn to Haerin with a sigh. "Why can't you just ask Jeno? He obviously knows."
Lee Jeno, the one who harasses you with cock photos, Haerin's boyfriend, Jaemin's other half, they’ve been connected and attached since they were kids. The bestest of friends. Brothers. If Jeno isn't with Haerin, he's with Jaemin. It's a bromance that's heartwarming and sweet – two guys who are platonic soulmates. He obviously knows what's happened with Jaemin.
Haerin shakes her head. "He's not telling me. He's told me little bits, but he's being so vague. I've asked so many times."
"I even did my really cute 'no no' and puppy eyes smiling look, but he didn't budge. You know how I can make him do anything once I call him 'no no,' but it didn't work this time, so whatever happened is pretty serious."
You look at her astonished. "Why? I thought you told each other everything."
"Yeah, we do. If it's concerning him, he'll never keep it a secret from me. But he's told me it's unfair to air out his best friend's business like that. Jaemin's obviously told him the entire Yeeun situation with secrecy, and I'm sure he'll be hurt if Jeno just tells his girlfriend everything he trusted him with. It sucks to open up and become vulnerable only for everything you've said in trusted privacy to be shared."
You both still look confused. Doesn't having a boyfriend mean the 'don't tell anyone' rule doesn't apply to him?
Even though Haerin is admittedly annoyed at Jeno, she'll always defend him. "Look, I see where he's coming from. Something's happened with Jaemin, and it's clearly Yeeun. I'm worried for him, and obviously Jeno is. That's why Jeno is always going over to him, even when he’s about to put his dick inside of me." She rolls her eyes, accepting the fact that Jeno would drop anything for his best friend.
“Hey! You three come over right now!”
You and Hana turn around at Haerin's call, scanning the surroundings to spot Yangyang, Shotaro, and Xiaojun. The scared looks on their faces are evident even from a distance, a clear response to Haerin's tone and directness.
"We don't know anything." Yangyang quickly states as he takes a seat opposite you, anticipating Haerin's impending interrogation.
"You don't even know what Haerin's gonna ask you." Hana chuckles, playfully teasing the boys.
"I know we're about to get an interrogation.” Shotaro responds, the corners of his lips lifting as he grins sweetly at Hana, who ruffles his hair. Eric has now joined the table, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, and sits with you guys without a word. Come to think of it, that's what Eric was—someone who just appeared from nowhere.
You watch with a laugh as he leans his head toward Hana, silently pleading for her to do the same to him and ruffle his hair. However, she just shakes her head and focuses her attention on Shotaro. You smirk, well aware of Eric's crush on Hana, a fact not hidden from anyone at the table.
Turning to your side, you find Xiaojun taking a seat beside you, his knees knocking against yours. He offers a soft smile and a greeting, followed with a series of caring questions. "Are you okay? Have you eaten? Did you sleep well?" His genuine concern warms your heart.
"I did. I'm doing okay, Xiaojun, really." You reassure him, hoping he believes your words. You glance briefly at Hana, who gives you a knowing look and wiggles her eyebrows, hinting at something you try to downplay. You roll your eyes nonetheless, dropping your head to his shoulder, yawning and letting your eyes flutter shut but the loudness will make it impossible to nap.
Haerin cuts through the air, your attention shifting to her. "If you guys know where Jeno is and you're not telling me, then I'm seriously gonna cut and boil each and every one of your dicks. Starting with my boyfriend."
The threat hangs in the air, but Shotaro, ever charming, sweetly questions. "Shouldn't you know where your boyfriend is?" Shotaro asks sweetly, his dimples on full display. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he adjusted the beanie on his head, the thick layer of sleepiness evident in his voice. His charming smile and undeniable cuteness make you coo, prompting you to pinch his cheeks gently. Confusion flickers in his eyes as he wonders why everyone always showers him with affection when he feels he hasn't done much. However, the collective looks of endearment directed at him from all corners of the table convey the unspoken truth—he's effortlessly lovable, no effort required.
"We all fucking know where he is. He's with Jaemin, and he has been with him ever since Yeeun did her shit and fucked him over like the heartless and selfish bitch that — anyways — Why the fuck are you acting like you don’t know where Jeno is, Haerin, don’t you guys tell each other everything?” Yangyang asserts, frustration evident in your words.
Hana’s eyes light up. "You boys know! You know what's happened with Jaemin."
"Yes, we do, and we're not telling you. It's no one's business. Plus, you guys clearly already know; Jeno told Haerin, which means she told you.” Yangyang responds.
"Jeno hasn't told me!!!! Oh my god, how many times do I need to tell you guys?" Haerin exclaims, her voice raising and whining due to reaching full frustration.
"I'd be kinda worried if I was in a relationship and he didn't tell me everything—"
Haerin is a testament to defending her boyfriend even when she wants to cut his dick off. “He tells me everything that I need to know, everything that concerns me and him. There's no secrets with that stuff. He just doesn't air out other people's business to me. My boyfriend is honest and fair. Plus, I'd never tell him anything personal about you guys. There have been so many times you guys have confided in me about something personal and private and promised me not to tell anyone, and I haven't. And I would never. Telling my boyfriend my close friends personal life isn't something I'd be proud about; it's disrespectful and crossing boundaries. We both have a mutual agreement to that. There are standards and expectations in our relationship."
Xiaojun nods, laughing out loud. “If you know why he's not telling you, then why are you bothering us and trying to get the information from us?"
"Because I'm not perfect and I'm a nosy bitch, okay? Happy???? Plus, if I heard it from you guys rather than Jeno than he’d have nothing to feel guilty about and it would satisfy my craving to know everyone’s shit.” Haerin exclaims dramatically, truthfully revealing her nosy intentions. Suddenly, she groans and loudly slams her head on the table, shedding real tears when she realizes one of her nails from her set has broken off.
♥♥♥♥
Later that night, the comfort of your own house embraces you after a long day of classes. You and the girls gather on the sofa, indulging in your favorite rom-coms, creating an overall cozy evening.
Haerin, as usual, is talking about Jeno. You can't find it in you to get annoyed; she loves him, and sharing her happiness is second nature. She excitedly recounts the details of one of the many expensive getaways he took her on.
"We went skinny dipping," she begins, "He fucked me in every corner of the cabin we were staying in. The kitchen, the lake, on a blanket outside by the lake, against the wall of our room – we actually broke the bed and had to pay extra for it."
"Oh, and we did it in the bathroom and the shower a lot. I remember he was balls deep inside of me, he had made me cum for the sixth time in a row, and we were both close to falling down and fainting. He was fucking my cum back into me then he told me he wanted to marry me be the father to my children. We didn’t use protection for that entire day and he kept trying to fuck a baby into me. Thank God I didn’t get pregnant. He was quite high at that time and although I wasn’t, I was on my 6th orgasm. We were literally ready to be parents at that time… that’s what good sex does to you.”
You and Hana widen your eyes at Haerin. She always shares stories about their very intense and loving sex life, sometimes she even shows you videos and photos, you never look at them the same way after hearing it all – especially Jeno. He's a freak
“You guys are… on another level.” Hana laughs.
"You guys are the cutest." You smile for Haerin, masking the twinge of loneliness and heartache you feel. It's selfish, but seeing your best friend so happily loved up hurts, even if you're genuinely happy for her.
Haerin notices your silence and sends a sweet smile your way, patting your head and asking if you're okay. You can tell she feels a twinge of guilt, especially when she offers her way of making you feel happier.
"Let's get you with someone!" she claps her hands excitedly, trying to play matchmaker.
"Nooo," your hands make a crossing motion, but she won't listen. Once her mind is set on something, it's set.
"Yes!" Hana claps happily, and you huff when you realize you're outnumbered.
Haerin starts listing potential bachelors. "First of all, there's Donghyuck – hot and he knows it. A bit of a lost cause, but he's fearless and obviously good in bed! You're the opposite of him – more sensible and mindful, you can guide him in the right direction, like me and Jeno!"
You shake your head at that idea immediately. "He's high 95% of the time. He isn't serious. Plus, I heard he's got his eyes on that girl. What's her name again? She's the older sister of Jieun, used to be popular but now she’s the typical rebel. She's kinda rude.”
Hana offers her batch of men. "Okay, then... Yangyang! He's cute, he's –"
"He's gay," You laugh as you watch her realise it. “He’s gay and I don’t know if he knows it yet.”
Haerin's eyes light up when she thinks she's found the man. "Mark's cute! Smart, nerdy, apparently has a big cock and is really good in bed. Plus, he's sweet, emotionally mature, and just recently broke up with his girlfriend –"
"He's in love with his best friend.” You mutter. Mark and his best friend have been attached to the hip since birth, and they're also in love. They're both just oblivious idiots, but somehow everyone around them knows.
“There’s Xiaojun, he’s boyfriend material and he definitely wants to fuck you.” Hana nods to you, rolling her eyes when you shake your head at her amazing idea.
“He’s sweet but he’s such a fuckboy… he wants to fuck everyone.” You respond, truly not wanting to get involved with a player. You stray far away. He was one of your closest friends and you did trust him with your life but that was emotionally. You knew his sexual side was another side to him that you quite simply didn’t want to get involved with. It was unexpected how much he rolled around in the sheets. Plus, he was one of your best friends!
Hana scratches her neck and whispers to Haerin, "This is hard."
Haerin grits her teeth in pure frustration. "There are so many guys at ‘Neo Culture Technology’ but at the same time, they're all either gross or unavailable."
"Who's left?" Heejin questions.
"There's Shotaro – but apparently, he's got a thing for that really hot Wonbin guy. There's Eric – but he's in love with Hana. There's Sunwoo – but he's in love with me. And I can't think of anyone else. There's Jeno, but if you touch him, I'll kill you," Haerin starts giving the rebuttals herself.
"Eric is not in love with me.” Hana tuts, shaking her head in denial.
“Yeah and Jeno’s not in love with me.” Haerin rolls her eyes dramatically, speaking in a sarcastic tone, trying to emphasise how naive and oblivious Hana was.
"Also, Sunwoo's stopped trying to chase after you. Jeno scared him away forever." Hana laughs, but you widen your eyes in slight fear, remembering the night when Jeno put an end to Sunwoo's dreams of having Haerin permanently.
Haerin however dreamily closes her eyes at the memory. "My man."
"Wait, there is someone else. Jeno gave me this idea, and I didn't get it then, but I do now. It's Jae –"
Speaking of the devil, the atmosphere shifts as Jeno casually strolls in, exuding a magnetic presence. His confident gait and tousled hair give him an effortlessly cool appearance. His eyes, a warm and inviting shade, immediately soften as he reaches Haerin.
Greeting everyone with a charming smile, he seamlessly moves toward Haerin. The room becomes a canvas of love as he leans in to kiss her softly. Arms looped around each other, they share endearing whispers, lost to the outside world.
A bittersweet feeling washes over you as you witness their intimacy. Yet, the mood takes an unexpected turn as Haerin gasps, extricating herself from Jeno's embrace, adopting a dramatic stance.
"I'm supposed to be mad at you! You dick!!!!! Leave me again during sex and see what happens. You will have no dick." Haerin warns, forcefully putting on a pissed off voice and expression. You know this was her acting and being dramatic, She found it easier to melt into his arms rather than hold a grudge against him, you understood it. I mean, have you looked at Jeno?
You and Hana share an amused expression as the scene unfolds. Jeno's playful silence only serves to annoy Haerin more. She huffs at his smirking demeanor, her words stumbling initially but gaining clarity. "Can you tell this man that he can sleep outside tonight?" Her arms crossed, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she faces you.
Nodding, you face Jeno. "Haerin said that you're not allowed to sleep with her tonight."
Jeno tuts, responding with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Can you tell Haerin that if that happens, then she'll come to me in the middle of the night and beg to ride my –"
Haerin cuts him off, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes. "Can you ask him why he's in my house?"
“Haerin asked why are you –”
“Y/N, shut up.” Jeno says seriously, warning you not to speak.
“Hae, I’m in your house because you gave me a key for our anniversary." He explains, his eyes soft as he reaches for Haerin's hand, attempting to make her melt into him but he widens his mouth when she doesn’t take his hand like he expected her to.
"Baby." He whispers, his voice a soft and tender melody, likely to make her heart flutter. Despite the softness in his tone, she remains resolute, dodging his attempts to kiss her.
"Why are you mad?" He questions, shaking his head in confusion. Haerin persists with the silent treatment, prompting him to turn to you and Hana with a light-hearted chuckle.
"It's because she wanted you to shove your dick in her throat, but you left." You inform him with a nonchalant tone.
Jeno, with a determined look, works his magic on her. He gently takes Haerin's hand, and this time, she doesn't pull away. His smile, radiant and affectionate, speaks volumes, a sight capable of soothing any emotional ache. His eyes, dreamy and captivating, have the power to make anyone melt.
His voice drops to a low whisper as he utters sweet promises into her ear. "I'll make it up to you, all night long.” He vows, kissing the sides of her cheeks. A low moan escapes Haerin's lips, catching you by surprise. Was she that horny?
You and Hana turn to each other with wide eyes when you hear intense smooching noises and passionate sighs and moans. You take that as your cue to leave.
You walk back in 2 hours later, and they’re still making love on the sofa. You turn to Hana with a playful smirk, congratulating yourself internally when she pays up. You bet that it would take Haerin less than a day to let go of her grudge, and it did.
“I didn’t think she’d give in so easily.” Hana sighs, defeated, giving you the money with a frown.
“She always does with him.” You respond.
“I would too.” Hana smiles. The two of you turn to each other with a playful smirk. “I mean, have you seen the way he manhandles her? Have you seen his cock?”
“Unfortunately.” You mumble.
“It wasn’t unfortunate for me.” Hana bites her lips and sighs dreamily.
♥♥♥♥
The morning air is filled with the tantalizing aroma of Jeno's pancakes, a comforting scent that wafts through the entire house. Sighing in relief, you're grateful that it's Jeno preparing breakfast, saving you from the potential culinary disasters that Haerin or Hana might unleash.
The lively chatter in the kitchen reaches your ears before you step in. "I will put the two of you on a sex ban!" Hana warns, yawning as she has another night of insomnia to add to her list.
Chuckling, you enter unnoticed, preferring to remain a subtle presence in the background. You stroll in with a laugh, savoring the fact that they're oblivious to your entrance. Being the subtle presence in the background suits you well – there’s no need to draw attention to yourself; it's just the way you like it.
Jeno, however, breaks the pattern and spots you immediately. You smile when you see Haerin attached to his back, arms around him as he cooks up.
He turns around, flashing a grin and offering a nod. "Good morning, princess. Finally got up?" His tone drips with playful mockery for no apparent reason.
You respond casually, "I've actually been up all night, thanks to two particular people rolling around in the sheets."
“It was actually against the wall, on the floor, in the shower, in my car, on the sofa, on her chair and against her desk. I had her arched against the kitchen countertop too. We did it in the bed the least.” Jeno sighs, nonchalantly reminiscing about his night of passion with his girl, leaning down and kissing her on the head, slapping her ass and keeping his hands there, squeezing every now and then.
“Fucking hell. All that in one night?” Hana questions, wondering how that’s even possible.
“As if that’s the most they’ve done.” You laugh.
Haerin passionately complains, "You guys are complaining, but I didn’t get any sleep either! He had to carry me downstairs and I can barely feel my thighs, I don’t know how I’m standing up right now. I’ve woken up with a hundred bruises on my body because of this man–
"Babe." Jeno swiftly interrupts, shaking his head at how it sounds.
"We get it. He's a rough lover.” Hana responds, pleading with her hands and begging Haerin not to share more of her intimate stories with him.
Jeno prods his tongue against his cheek. "Loving and passionate is how I like to say it.” He corrects Hana with an affectionate smile.
You smile at the heartwarming scene unfolding before you. In moments like this, the pain in your heart doesn’t attack you so brutally. Jeno’s in the kitchen, whipping up breakfast for everyone, and, as per usual, Haerin is attached by his side.
Meanwhile, Hana and Jeno engage in a playful bicker about the correct way to make pancakes (though you’d never admit it to Hana, you secretly prefer Jeno’s pancakes by far). Jeno then presents you with a plate stacked high with beautiful pancakes, adorned with your favorite syrups and fruits.
“Just the way you like it.” He says, and your mouth waters at the enticing sight.
“You better finish every last bite or else.” Jeno playfully warns, adopting a protective brotherly tone. It’s a side of him that has emerged over time. He was there when Hyunjin dumped you, he saw the state you was in, he saw how detrimental your health became, how you were neglecting meals. He witnessed he toll it took on your well-being. His increased care and protection over you hasn’t gone unnoticed.
Now, you’re surrounded by people who genuinely care about you, you’ve come a long way from those difficult days. Despite the strides you've made, the battle persists. The grip of your drinking habits remains firm, and solitary hours in the dark persist. Yet, amidst the struggle, there's a genuine improvement. You compel yourself to believe in the progress, even though the vulnerability still lingers. The fear persists; one trigger, one misstep, and the possibility of crumbling back to the depths looms.
They flash warm smiles your way while you savor your meal. Surprisingly, they haven't even started on their own food.
"You're all weird." you quip, narrowing your eyes as you playfully lock gazes with them, your cold expression meeting their endearing ones.
♥♥♥♥
Jeno is casually perched on the countertop, methodically dipping his sushi into a pool of spicy mayo before guiding the chopsticks to his lips. The furrow of his brow reveals his deep focus on the phone in his hand, typing away with practiced ease. Just as he's about to indulge in a bite, he abruptly halts, raising an eyebrow as his gaze shifts to you three girls.
The widening of his eyes is evident as you initiate a circling formation, you’re a trio of inquisitive troublemakers, with a determination to unearth the mystery about Jaemin that he's hiding. Despite Jeno's clear reluctance to spill about Jaemin and his ex, you girls, fueled by curiosity, launch an attempt to pry the information loose. Hey, nobody's perfect. You’re all nosy!
A palpable sense of fear colors Jeno's demeanor as the three of you unite your efforts. Questions barrage him, but he remains resolute, shaking his head with a firm "no" and countering every inquiry with a blunt and direct response. "All of you, stop it. If I said I'm not telling you what happened, that means exactly that."
In the face of Jeno's unwavering stance, Haerin's frown deepens, and yet, Jeno's expression softens, he swiftly pulls her onto his lap with one arm and feeding her the sushi on his chopsticks, kissing her cheek softly. "Look, it's not my place to tell you personal things regarding Jae. It's not my story or my heartbreak. As much as I'd love to spill the tea about what a selfish and heartless bitch that Yeeun is—"
“Yeeun is so sweet, though.” You cut him off, a hint of disbelief in your voice as you register the language he’s using. His expression shifts abruptly, turning hard and cold almost instantly.
“You’d think.” He laughs, but the disdain in his face tells a different story. He despises her, a revelation that catches you off guard, considering she was his best friend’s girlfriend for the longest time.
Jang Yeeun, a girl in the year above, is a vision of beauty that triggers a twinge of envy within you. Whenever you catch sight of her on campus, it’s as if she belongs in a magazine. Her smile, breathtaking and radiant, could light up any room. Her blonde hair, so luminous and silky, seems to catch the sunlight in a way that leaves you in awe. It’s no wonder she’s popular – sweet and undeniably attractive. She’s always smiling and she radiates such a brightness.
Jeno's annoyance intensifies, a scowl etching across his face. His cheeks flush with frustration, and his eyes darken with a mixture of irritation and discomfort. The tension is palpable as he digs his nails into his palm, a physical manifestation of his inward turmoil.
Observing Jeno's visible agitation, Haerin, perceptive and caring, notices the telltale signs. She reaches out, gently rubbing his cheek with her thumb, and in a gesture filled with intimacy, she plants a soft kiss on his lips. Concerned, she mumbles. “You okay, my love?”
He responds with a whispered assurance that he's fine, urging her not to worry. His lips find their way to her forehead in a tender kiss, a silent expression of gratitude for her understanding. “I love you.” He whispers against her forehead.
"I just don't wanna talk about Yeeun.” He mutters, the words escaping in a low murmur that carries the weight of unspoken emotions. The intimacy of the moment contrasts with the underlying frustration, creating a complex interplay of feelings within the scene.
Jeno, quick to change the subject, does anything to help the anger in his heart pass. "Anyways, you three are invited to my party. I'm throwing it for Jaemin."
Immediate reactions unveil the distinct personality differences among you and your friends. Hana nods enthusiastically, fully on board with the party vibe – much like Jeno, she loves getting high and wasted, finding joy in nights where memories are non-existent.
Haerin, on the other hand, frowns, turning to face her boyfriend and shaking her head. "Another party?" She questions, her preference leaning towards cozy movie nights, cuddling Jeno, and ordering takeaway. The contrast between her and Jeno is striking, making you ponder how these opposites found each other.
Your reaction remains impartial, but confusion is quick to find a voice. "Huh?" You question, expressing your bewilderment at his idea. "Isn’t he currently heartbroken and struggling to get through each day? You think a party is the solution?" Your words hang in the air, a reflection of your practical and contemplative nature compared to the contrasting preferences of your friends.
"Shut up.” Jeno shoots his eyes in your direction, a clear signal for your voice to be silenced.
Haerin’s eyes widen and she sucks in a breath. Seriously? She’s turned on right now?
"My man needs some pussy.” The crude statement hangs in the air, and you huff as you realize the reasoning for the party. Of course, people always hook up at Jeno's parties, and it gives him immense pride – he loves being the matchmaker and now he wants his best friend to have rebound sex.
"That's really not—" You begin, only to be shushed by Jeno.
"You're throwing the party for that?" You inquire, a mix of disbelief and amusement coloring your voice. “Can’t you just set him on a blind date or something?”
"Yeah.” Jeno responds simply, a sly smirk playing on his face as he crosses his arms defensively. His eyes light up with humour as he senses your scepticism. He laughs. “Jaemin and blind date? Do you even know him? He’ll never show up to that shit.”
"He's gonna hate the party.” You laugh, anticipating Jaemin's reaction. “If he won’t turn up to a date then you think he’ll turn up to a party?”
Jeno, however, gets defensive, a sly smirk still playing on his face as he challenges you. "Suddenly, you know him better than me?" His voice carries an edge, a playful challenge.
When you don't respond, the tension deepens. "Oh, I get it." he continues, his tone implying that whatever he says next won't be pleasant. "You're jealous. You don't think there's any point in throwing him a party because you're here?"
The accusation hangs in the air as he pushes further, daring to ask, "You want him? You wanna fuck him?"
"Fuck off, Jeno." You assert, shaking your head in frustration at his relentless words. He was a pain in the ass.
He continues, pushing his blunt perspective. "It makes sense. Hyunjin dumped you, and then Yeeun tore Jaemin's heart out of his chest with her tacky and disgusting spider fingers and then stepped on it—anyways, you both need good rebound sex. It's better than moping around, crying in the sheets all day when you could be getting your bones jumped in the sheets."
You cut Jeno off, your voice raised in defensiveness. "You don't know what I need." You mutter, defensive goosebumps rising on your arms at the harsh yet uncomfortably true nature of his words.
He shrugs. "Just trying to help. Maybe you should fuck Jaemin; he's really good in bed."
"Maybe you should fuck off, Jeno." You retort, rolling your eyes at his audacity.
Haerin begins scolding Jeno for his behavior as if you weren't there. "Don't talk to her about him. She's still dealing with the heartbreak. How will she fuck Jaemin so easily if all she wants is Hyunjin?" Their words sting, leaving you feeling unsettled. Is this how your friends see you – as weak and fragile?
However, Jeno's honest words bring slight comfort. "He's a fucking idiot, and I want to talk about it. There's no point not talking about what happened, bottling it up and not communicating will just fuck everyone's heads even more. He's not some sacred God whose name shouldn't be spoken; he's the opposite, he's a fucking dickhead. If I see him again, I'll punch him like I did that one time when he was making out with that girl in front of you. He's a cunt, and I'll help you kill him."
"Thanks, Jen." You say, a genuine smile breaking through. Gratitude washes over you – at least someone gets it. He returns your gratitude with an understanding smile, providing a flicker of solace in the midst of emotional turmoil.
Jeno, the master of redirection, skillfully changes the subject. You sigh in relief when the conversation finally shifts away from your heartbreak. He turns to Haerin, locking eyes with hers. "You're coming to the party, and I don't want to hear no."
Haerin huffs, her face dropping – she's not a fan of parties, a sentiment she doesn't hesitate to show.
Without giving a direct response, Haerin's silence prompts Jeno to poke further. "If you don't come, then no sex for a week. He threatens, adding a playful edge to his attempt to convince her.
“You think you’re the one who proposes sex band in this relationship?” She questions, eyes a siren as her voice deepens. It was true, she had Jeno wrapped around her little finger.
"Why do you want me to come so bad?" She asks, curious about his motives.
"Because don't I deserve to get laid like Jae?" Jeno says with a smirk. "I'll only have fun if you're there." You can't help but roll your eyes at his cheeky remark, fully aware of his regular romantic encounters towards her.
You observe as Jeno leans in, whispering sweet words into Haerin's ear. Whatever he says seems to work like a charm. "Fineeee. I'll come but only for you," Haerin relents, a playful smile crossing her lips as she succumbs to Jeno's persuasive tactics.
You observe them closely, a genuine smile gracing your face as they share a sweet and joy-filled kiss. Their cute smiles and the affectionate atmosphere only contribute to the happiness you feel while witnessing the scene. “He’s probably gonna fill the tables with your favourite wine.” Hana playfully predicts.
Later that night, in a hushed tone, Jeno whispers to you, revisiting the topic from earlier, "You know I was joking around earlier, but I do really think it's a good idea if you move on and fuck Jaem."
"I don't want that or need it." You mumble in frustration. "Sex isn't the solution to every problem."
"Yeah, it is." Jeno interjects with a confident nod and a smirk.
You roll your eyes. "You're just obsessed with getting your dick wet. You think fucking solves every problem."
“In Haerin’s pussy, to be exact. I’m obsessed with getting my dick wet in her pussy.”
Haerin, who has been silently observing the conversation, tuts and playfully hits Jeno on the head. "Stop acting like that. You know when we argue, first of all, we talk about it, explain ourselves, and communicate our emotions, and then we have the best sex of our lives." She scolds him.
Jeno only smiles, not responding to Haerin. Instead, he turns to you with a smirk. "You should think about what I said though. It's a good idea."
"It's so random. I mean, I've never spoken to Jaemin once." You express, noting the mystery and introverted nature of Jaemin, someone you've only exchanged nods and smiles with.
He was a complete stranger to you, shrouded in an air of mystery and introversion. Your interactions had likely been limited to nods and smiles. He didn't go out of his way to engage with people, preferring to keep his circle small and interactions to a minimum, only when necessary. However, you couldn't help but wonder why a connection never formed between the two of you. He seemed to be on good terms with everyone else in the group—Jeno, Haerin, Hana, Eric, Mark, Yangyang, Xiaojun. It left you questioning the unspoken distance between you and him.
Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Jeno turns serious, looking at you with empathy. He shares a revelation that sends a shock through you, "It's not really that random. Apparently, Hyunjin's sleeping with Yeeun." He whispers, offering a sweet smile while Haerin rubs your back, looking at you with caution.
Your throat dries, and your vision blurs at the news. You force the words out, "Oh—how—how did you find out?" The stutter in your voice betrays your attempt to sound unaffected.
He doesn't answer directly, a regretful expression crossing his face. You're grateful he shared the information, knowing it's better to be aware than blindsided by the painful truth later.
"Y/N—" Haerin begins, concerned, but you cut her off, pretending not to care.
"I'm fine." You mumble, excusing yourself to the bathroom. Once there, the façade crumbles. The scene unfolds with you crying, water splashing on your face, your hands feeling foreign. Your heart falters, dizziness and sickness overwhelming you. Your head shakes violently as you hope for an end to this torment. As long as your heart beats for Hyunjin, someone who betrayed you, you fear being broken forever.
♥♥♥♥
You girls got ready in preparation for the party ahead. The bond you and your girls shared made getting ready together a cherished ritual, a source of laughter, and a confidence boost when you needed it the most.
Haerin took charge of your hair, her skilled hands transforming it into a sleek, silky cascade. The soft hum of the straightener filled the room as she worked her magic, creating a look that exuded confidence. Hana couldn't help but gush about the result.
The encouragement from your girls always provided a much-needed confidence boost, especially in those moments when it mattered most. "You look so beautiful and hot!!! If you’re not in someone’s bed tonight then I’m gonna get you in mine.” Hana exclaimed, her words laced with genuine admiration.
“Let’s do it.” You turn around and wink at her, giggling when she leans down to kiss your cheek.
With your hair done, the focus shifted to Hana, and you eagerly joined in to help with her makeup. You concentrated as you applied eyeshadow to her eyes, a black smokey shadow look that complemented her features flawlessly. You paired it with a red lip. She looked hot. She beamed at the mirror, hugging you tightly and smooching your head once again, clearly satisfied with the look, you can’t find it in you to be mad at the lipstick that stains your hair.
You then turn your attention to Haerin's outfit choice. You couldn’t believe how slutty yet elegant her wardrobe was, it was truly a mix of the extremes. She had the tiniest of skirts that barely covered her ass cheeks but then she also had elegant and pretty long dresses, you guess she wore whatever she felt like on the day.
After a moment of contemplation, Hana and you helped her decide on a pretty pink mini dress that will catch everyone's eye. You tie her necklace around her neck, giving her an array of bracelets and rings to accentuate the look. As Haerin slipped into the dress, a hint of uncertainty crossed her face.
"Can you see my ass cheeks through it?" Haerin whispered, turning around and tilting her head towards the mirror, attempting to gauge the view.
"Yeah.” You chuckled, admiring the hot pink lace thong peeking through the thin seams of the tight dress, "but you look incredibly sexy, Haerin."
Haerin's face lit up with a shy smirk at the compliment. "I'm not gonna change it. Jeno loves this thong so much.” She shared mischievously, "It’s my way of getting him to take me home as early as possible and to get out of this party."
You watch with a laugh when she tries to take a mirror selfie with her ass in the camera lense, Hana silently takes her phone from her hands and assists her, not being able to watch as she struggles, the two of you sharing an amused look when Haerin starts texting away on the phone, blushing when she shows you the texts.
haerin - [photo attachment of her ass cheeks]
haerin - what i’m wearing tonight baby :)
jeno - it’s see through?
jeno - you know my hands will be on your ass the entire night?
haerin - i’ll be disappointed if they weren’t :(
jeno - you know i’m just gonna rip that off you?
haerin - that’s why i’m wearing it
jeno - you just wanna get out of the party as soon as possible, don’t you?
jeno - funny of you to think that i’ll take you someplace private to fuck you when you know that i’m more likely to let the whole party hear you moaning my name
jeno - anyways do you need me to pick you up beautiful
haerin - no baby hana’s taking us
haerin - see u soon <3
Moments later, the trio of you made your way to Jeno's house. The house exterior exudes sophistication, with sleek lines and expansive windows that hinted at the luxury within. Upon entering, the richness of the house enveloped you.
Immediately, an electric atmosphere pulsated through the air. The party was in full swing, as expected from the notorious extravert and party thrower. The space was alive with a sea of people – some familiar faces from campus, others unknown.
The place was packed, almost bursting at the seams with laughter, chatter, and the rhythmic beats of thumping music that reverberated through the walls. It was a sensory overload The air was thick with the lingering fragrance of smoke and other substances.
Amidst the crowd, Jeno navigated his way through effortlessly, exchanging smiles, nods, and handshakes with friends and acquaintances alike. It was clear – everyone knew Jeno, and Jeno knew everyone.
Jeno quickly spots you, his already dilated pupils widening further. Haerin immediately becomes the focus of his attention and they share a greeting that evolves into an affectionate embrace. He lifts her up, her legs wrapping his waist and his hands find her ass cheeks immediately, his grip tight and firm. As sucking face noises fill the air, leaving you to awkwardly glance around.
Sensing your discomfort, Hana finds you, squeezing your hand to guide you away. However, you unexpectedly bump into familiar faces, and your face lights up with genuine joy. "Yeonjun!!" and "Soobin!!" escape your lips as you greet them, hugging both with grins that reflect the warmth of your reunion. The genuine happiness in their eyes mirrors your own, and you've genuinely missed having them around. They seem happier than ever, forming a couple that could rival Haerin and Jeno.
In the past, Yeonjun was your fourth roommate, and Soobin was always a constant presence. Now, you feel proud seeing them take the next step in their relationship, having moved in together. Their new flat stands as a beautiful testament to their love. Yeonjun is about to drag you somewhere; however, your escape is interrupted by the arrival of the troublesome trio—Renjun, Xiaojun, and Yangyang. They greet you with hugs, but mischievous glints in their eyes make you prepare yourself. They’re a pain in your ass before they even speak up
“There’s no fucking way you actually came.” Renjun exclaims, speaking louder than he needs to, each word marked by his intoxication.
Xiaojun was your sweetheart. “You look beautiful.” He kissed your cheek, his sweet words causing flutters in your heart as you smiled up at him with gratitude . You wrap your arms tightly around him as he whispers in your ear. “Missed you.”
“Never thought I’d see the day where you stopped moping around, crying in bed, and actually got off your ass to have some fun!!” Yangyang adds, he’s the only one who’ll be honest and upfront with you, his tone blunt which can come across as mean.
You force a smile, concealing the sadness that lingers within. Despite understanding that he intended for his words to be harmless, there's a lingering ache that suggests your friends might still perceive you as fragile. So what if you weren't in the mood for a wild party? You didn't find solace in the bottom of a bottle or in the haze of substances to cope with heartbreak. And yet, here you are, navigating the sea of unfamiliar faces and the thumping beats that echo the sentiment of your own muted heart.
A tender ache fills your heart. Haerin is like you, shy and reserved, yet the difference lies in the way her vulnerability seems to be guarded by an unspoken shield. You've noticed the whispers that never reach her, the kindness that eludes her gaze, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.
In the soft glow of the room, Haerin rests in the secure embrace of Jeno. Their eyes lock, unspoken words passing between them. Their smiles radiate a genuine warmth, an intimacy only for them. In this moment, you realise the unspoken truth – no one targets Haerin. She carries an invisible shield, woven from the threads of love and protection that Jeno provides.
A melancholic frown plays on your lips as you question silently: will you ever find an embrace like theirs again? One where vulnerability is met with understanding, and the world's harshness is softened by the warmth of love. It's a yearning that echoes in the quiet spaces of your soul, a desire for a connection that feels as secure and enveloping as the one you witness.
Parties are overwhelming for you, with their throbbing beats and lively chatter; however, the free alcohol makes it worth it. The liquid courage momentarily hushes the heartbreak and pain, providing an illusion of security in a world that often feels too tumultuous to navigate.
Amidst the pulsating music and vibrant chaos of the party, you find solace in the repetitive ritual of downing drink after drink. The fiery liquid drowns down your throat, leaving a burning trail that momentarily numbs out the whirlwind of emotions within. In the midst of the swirling lights and distant laughter, the free-flowing alcohol becomes the singular silver lining, the only solace you seek in the crowded abyss.
With each sip, you sink into the familiar embrace of intoxication, a sanctuary where vulnerability is masked. The glass in your hand transforms into a shield, shielding you from the prying eyes and unwelcome questions that linger in the shadows. It's a ritual, a coping mechanism that had recently become ingrained in the fabric of your existence, a way to drown out the dissonance of emotions echoing within.
The sensation of getting high and drunk becomes a substitute for the unspoken emotions that remain buried deep within. It's a fleeting escape, a momentary reprieve, where the clinking of glasses and the hum of the crowd momentarily drowns out the echoes of your own struggles. In this sea of temporary numbness, the allure of the next drink beckons, promising a brief sanctuary from the storm within.
You settle onto Xiaojun's lap, feeling the warmth and comfort of the familiar position, both legs on either side. A giddy smile plays on your lips, thinking nothing of it – you always do this was him, it was just another moment of closeness between you two. You were both always touchy and you thought nothing too much of it, it was natural, you assume he thought the same.
Little do you know, your presence on his lap subtly transforms his entire demeanour, leaving him momentarily speechless. You tut and shake your head when you feel his hardness prod against your thigh, a teasing comment escaping your lips. "Really?"
He’s shrugs. "Not the first time you’ve made me hard and not the last." He murmurs, his eyes dark as he rubs his clothed cock against you and you jab his arm. His eyes turn soft as he looks at you. Unbeknownst to you.
You find sanctuary on Xiaojun’s lap, observing the party unfold around you. Mark and his best friend catch your eye, seeming unusually close as they dance with whispered words and foreheads pressed together. Your eyes widen in surprise when you witness Yangyang, Soobin, and Yeonjun engaged in a three-way kiss. Maybe Yangyang has embraced his sexuality, or perhaps he always knew. Your gaze shifts to Haerin and Jeno, on the sofa, trying to conceal that she’s riding his cock but they’re not fooling you. They’re entwined in each other's arms, lost in their own world of affection. Then Donghyuck, looking incredibly close with someone you didn’t realise and you wonder, has he finally found the girl that’s grounded the wildness inside? You lean back against him with a grin, the familiar ritual of the hot alcohol burning down your throat as you observe everyone.
He lets out a weary sigh as you down another drink, the overpowering scent of alcohol swirling around him, momentarily drowning his senses in an intoxicating haze. "Instead of drinking, you can always just talk to me.” He suggests, concern etched in his voice. "I always tell you, I'm here for you." Xiaojun leans in to kiss your forehead, his gaze holding a mix of care and understanding.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, you shake your head, eager to change the topic. "Let's dance!" You exclaim, trying to lighten the mood. Xiaojun sighs, having just become comfortable with his hands gripping your thighs. He enjoys being in your presence, away from the busyness and loudness, and reluctantly agrees to join you on the dance floor.
You tossed expectations aside, party you did. You cheer at the top of your lungs, dancing close to Shotaro and Eric, the whole group surrendering to the music. Your arms flung up, and you let loose in the wild rhythm of the night.
The beats were relentless, matching the reckless abandon as you downed drink after drink, head held high in the haze of the party. You don’t realise how hot you look when you allow yourself to have fun. Drunk on both the music and the drugs, you remained blissfully unaware of eyes following you like a shadow – he wants you.
The lightheadedness sets in, and you can already sense the impending headache that will haunt you tomorrow. Later in the evening, you find yourself inches away from Xiaojun's lips, dancing with closeness, Let loose. Jeno's words echo in your mind – maybe he was right, and you do need a rebound.
Let loose. You glance over to see Eric and Hana taking their passion to the sofa, dry humping in the midst of an intense makeout session. Their uninhibited display stirs a desire in you to embrace the same level of outgoing freedom. Hana finally gave in to Eric’s want of her.
Let loose. You trust Xiaojun, one of your closest friends, you know he won't push it further; you're not ready for that, and he's aware. He knows that you’re only looking to rebound and have a good time. you know he knows. At first you was sceptical, he’s a fuckboy but that means he’s not serious and isn’t looking for any commitment, just what you need.
Your emotions are fucked, Hyunjin still has a control on you. You miss him, you want to see him, you want to forget about him, all you want is him. Longing to forget, you desperately wish the grip he has on your heart would release. Xiaojun, smiling and wasted, nods. You’re both on the brink of closing your eyes, ready to lean in but he's like a magnet, drawing your gaze into the distance. You see Hyunjin, the truth unfolds before you. The man who still holds your heart with his tongue shoved down someone else's throat.
Everything comes crashing down, the raw reality hitting you like a tidal wave. The reckless escape you sought in the party, the dance, the drinks – it all pales in comparison to the harsh truth that pierces through the night. The man you once shared an intimate connection with is now lost in someone else's embrace, and the weight of that realisation hangs heavy in the tumult of emotions.
Jeno was right— the lucky girl was Yeeun, Jaemin's ex. As you caught sight of her, envy gnawed at you like a persistent ache. Yeeun, with her radiant blonde hair, possessed a beauty that felt enchanting, almost ethereal. Her presence seemed to cast a captivating spell, leaving you mesmerised yet resentful.
Her blonde locks framed a face that radiated an undeniable allure, making every movement she made seem effortless and captivating. The air around her seemed to shimmer with a certain grace, intensifying the envy that gripped you. In her presence, you couldn't help but feel like an observer to a scene where she effortlessly stole the spotlight.
Time halts, and you find yourself frozen in the moment. Desperation takes hold as you bite your tongue with a force that rivals the pain in your heart, attempting to stifle the sobs threatening to escape. Despite your efforts, tears stream down uncontrollably. Suddenly you’re sober again; the drinks no longer provide an escape, instead it works to intensify the emotions, making everything a hundred times more poignant.
In an abrupt decision, you make a swift exit. Xiaojun, sensing your drop in happiness, attempts to follow, but you halt him with a silent plea. You’re grateful that he’s not sober or else he’d follow you.
The feeling of invisibility intensifies – no one pays attention to your breakdown. It's not a plea for attention, but in these moments, it seems like you're navigating this emotional storm alone. Hyunjin remains oblivious.
Navigating through the crowd, you find solace in an empty room. As the door closes behind you, a switch flips within. The facade crumbles, and you break down in a way you haven't allowed yourself to before.
Take a moment to collect yourself, leaving the room with the unsettling realization that going home might be the best option. The desire to avoid running into anyone on your way out is fueled by a doubt that anyone would even notice your departure. You don’t stand out. No one notices when you’re not there.
As you move through the hallway, your eyebrows rise at the unmistakable sounds echoing through the seemingly thin walls – loud moans, skin slapping against skin, the headboard banging, and the unmistakable noises of passion emanating from not one but two rooms.
This is Jeno's house, a place you've visited before. You can easily discern that one of the passionate pairs comprises Jeno and Haerin, obviously now in the comfort of closed walls. Unfortunately, you're all too familiar with the unique way they express themselves when they fuck, given Jeno's frequent nights spent at your house.
You hear Haerin's unrestrained cries of ‘daddy’ at the top of her lungs, audible every minute. Your eyes widen, she’s genuinely calls him that more than his actual name ‘Jeno.’ The absence of any attempt to mask the sounds with music speaks volumes about their boldness. To your surprise, the door is left slightly open, revealing an audacious lack of secrecy, these freaks want people to watch and hear. Your didn’t want to look but you glanced before you even thought about it. You nearly choke at the way he has her body bent under him. How the fuck can a human body move in that way?
The sounds from the other room trigger a quick realisation – it has to be Na Jaemin. After all, this is his house too; he shares it with Jeno. Recalling that the party was intended for Jaemin to find rebound sex and move on, you acknowledge Jeno's fair play in orchestrating a night where Jaemin seems to be thoroughly enjoying his time.
The stark difference in the way both couples fuck becomes unmistakable. Haerin and Jeno, unapologetically basking in their love, make no effort to conceal themselves, fucking openly for anyone to see and hear. On the other hand, Jaemin and his mystery girl attempt to be more calculated, trying to mask their moans with loud music but it doesn’t work. It seems like you’re witnessing an unintended competition of who can emit louder moans (it’s Jeno).
Before you spot Jaemin, his voice reaches your ears, introducing you to a side of him you never expected. This is not the same introverted, quiet guy who usually utters no more than three words in a conversation or lingers silently in the background, fading into all the buzz. His words, unexpectedly crude and filthy, pierce through the air.
"Scream my name then, go on."
"You didn't say please?"
"Such a tight cunt."
"So wet for me."
His voice, low and deep, transforms his entire persona, a sultry air that causes a rush of heat surges to your cheeks, and you find yourself blushing uncontrollably. You squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t make sense but also makes so much sense. It's a revelation, leaving you grappling with the realization that this is the same guy you thought you had figured out – a quiet introvert who has now revealed a whole different side of himself in the throes of passion.
As you prepare to leave, shaking your head at how distracted you became, your steps halt when Jaemin's bedroom door swings open right in front of you. The initial sight that catches your attention is how he’s practically naked, the only thing he has on is tight boxers and you’re wondering, why are you unable to tear you gaze from the sight? You also notice the multitude of hickies adorning his skin, he has cum all over his body.
His heavy breathing and a glazed look in his eyes suggest he's not fully present, as if dwelling in another realm. There's a palpable sense of disorientation, a dizziness that separates him from the pulsating beat within his own chest. Jaemin appears not just physically spent but emotionally detached, lost in a world beyond the immediate surroundings.
His features strike a harmonious balance between softness and sharpness, creating a visage that is both captivating and alluring. His dark, tousled hair adds a touch of casual charm to the overall allure.
Yet, what intrigues you most are his eyes—deep and penetrating, yet tinged with an emptiness. Despite recent intimate engagements, the light seems to have eluded his gaze, introducing a layer of complexity that adds to the enigma surrounding him.
This is a side of him you never expected to see—it’s almost like it’s not him. The eyes you're looking at reveal a detached and broken person, so out of it that he doesn’t even see or notice you at first.
As your gaze shifts downward, his toned chest, sculpted abs, and peaks make your mouth water. His physique is undeniably attractive and hot, creating a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil reflected in his eyes.
"What the fuck are you doing?" His voice crashes into the moment, causing you to snap back to reality. The sudden sharpness catches you off guard; his tone is darker, more blunt than you ever expected.
"The party's downstairs. I swear to God, I told Jeno not to let anyone come upstairs—"
You attempt to respond, but your throat feels dry and stuck, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can collect your thoughts, Jaemin takes the lead.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" His voice softens instantly, concern washing over his face as he furrows his brows, carefully assessing your expression.
"I—yeah, I'm fine," you lie, the words escaping through gritted teeth.
Jaemin shakes his head, skepticism evident. "Obviously not true."
He shakes his head slowly, his expression a mix of concern and disappointment. "How much have you had to drink? You look a mess.” He admits with blunt honesty, his perceptive eyes seeing through the facade you try to maintain. He studies your flushed cheeks, the slight unsteadiness in your movements, the glaze over your eyes. the rosy tint of your complexion and the way your words occasionally stumble.
A gulp is your only response as you glance at your reflection in one of the mirrors against the wall. The sight is a disheveled mess—smudged makeup, tears still streaming down your cheeks. The emotional toll and crying have become so familiar that they seem like your default state. You only now realize that you're still crying.
"I—I'm sorry.” You mumble, the words coming out pathetically, struggling to find your voice.
Jaemin's eyes soften, and he offers you a sweet smile, twisting something inside you. You can't help but wonder why he's being so kind.
"What are you sorry for?" He chuckles.
"Is it Hyunjin?" He asks, his voice low and whispered, a hint of caution present as if he's mindful about uttering that name around you.
Jaemin stands there, visibly awkward, scratching his neck and desperately searching for a lifeline to rescue him from the situation. His eyes dart around, unsure of how to navigate the emotional turbulence around you. He subtly rolls his eyes in the direction of Jeno’s room, they were still fucking.
In a fumbling attempt to offer some comfort, Jaemin starts a motion, perhaps to retrieve a tissue from his pocket. Then, the realization hits him—here he is, practically standing naked in front of you adorned with hickies and remnants of cum. His eyes widen in a mix of surprise and embarrassment, but you shake your head reassuringly. "It's not a big deal."
Your gentle voice acts as a balm, stirring something within him. His eyes lock onto yours, and in that unspoken exchange, there's a shared understanding. Jaemin's thumb delicately grazes underneath your eyes, wiping away the tears from your delicate skin.
"Fuck Hyunjin.” He whispers, his voice soft and tender yet carrying a sharp edge of hurt and anger on your behalf. You nod in response, a genuine smile naturally forming on your lips. In that moment, as Jaemin expresses both solidarity and indignation, you feel an unexpected sense of settlement.
What is it about Na Jaemin? You’re left pondering, did he even know your name? This is someone who you never expected to be so kind and respectful to you, you’ve heard endless stories about how he’s quiet and doesn’t talk but you’re seeing a whole different side.
He continues wiping away your tears, and you can't believe you're still crying. The weight of vulnerability starts to lift, making room for a mix of bitterness and a twinge of sadness in your voice as you mumble, "Our exes are fucking."
You wonder if Jaemin already knew, as he doesn't react with sadness or shock. Instead, his facial expression remains void and unchanged. You can't help but envy how he maintains such control over his emotions. All the times you’ve seen him, he’s had one expression on his face, nonchalant and unbothered.
“How are you not reacting?” You cry out more than you wanted to, perplexed as to how he has such a tight control on his emotions. You envy it, you wish you could be like him.
“Come with me.” A surprised gaze lingers in your eyes as his suggestion hangs in the air. He nods towards his room, and you can't help but feel a flush of red creep onto your cheeks. The first thought that leaps into your mind raises questions – does he want to sleep with you? It seems plausible, given the fact he had just been fucking and that this party was thrown to help him find a rebound. What if he sees you as another opportunity?
"I don’t wanna fuck you.” You whisper back, the words leaving your lips with a mix of uncertainty and anticipation.
Jaemin shakes his head, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates the notion that you believed he was suggesting something more explicit. "I didn’t say that was going to happen. Do you want that to happen?" He teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he tilts his head, awaiting your reaction. However, you evade giving him a response, breaking eye contact.
"I should be getting home anyway.” You mention, attempting to steer the conversation away.
"How are you gonna get there?" he probes further.
"Hana said she’ll take us, if not then Jeno –" you begin, but he cuts you off with a knowing smirk.
"Hana is shit-faced high downstairs and fucking Eric on the sofa and we can still hear Haerin screaming 'daddy,' so obviously Jeno's busy." He interjects.
"Then I’ll just walk home." You assert.
"It’s 1 am." He points out. “Do you know how dangerous the street are at this time?”
"It’s 10 minutes away.” You counter.
“Just come into my room.” He suggests with a confident assurance, the conversation steering in a way you didn’t expect. The straightforwardness catches you off guard.
"Just trust me.” He murmurs, his words something you're willing to trust. Weakness washes over you, you don’t have anything else to lean on. The prospect of going home in isolation, with only your broken heart and the lingering drink in your hand as companions, feels unbearable.
Without much contemplation, you nod, surrendering to the solace he seems to offer in the unknown. “Ok.” You mumble, your response sealed with a hint of anticipation.
Jaemin's room is painted in a rich midnight blue, creating a calming atmosphere. The walls are adorned with posters of indie bands and artistic prints, showcasing his eclectic taste. Muted gray decor complements the deep blue, and lights strung along the walls provide a soft, ambient glow. A well-organized desk sits against one wall, littered with notebooks, a laptop, and scattered pens. The minimalist furniture, including a sleek bed with monochrome bedding, adds a touch of simplicity to the room. Various trinkets and souvenirs line the shelves, hinting at Jaemin's interests and experiences.
Numerous photographs cover one section of Jaemin's room, creating a nostalgic collage on the wall. The alcohol in your system blurs the faces, but the emotions captured in each snapshot are vivid. Smiles, laughter, and shared moments freeze in time. Your vision may be hazy, but the warmth of those memories makes you smile.
Your heart pounds when you realise there’s an unexpected sight—a half-naked girl perched at the end of his bed. Shock and embarrassment wash over you, she’s the girl you heard him fucking earlier.
“Get out.” Jaemin's stands with crossed arms, watching her exit with impatience. You recognize her as Karina, a girl from your year. Her eyes meet yours, and she smirks, offering a thumbs up with a mischievous giggle. In a hushed whisper, she says. “You’re gonna have so much fun, he does this thing with his tongue…”
Her words leave you blushing and flustered. Before you can make it clear that you were not here to fuck, Jaemin swiftly escorts her out, locking the door firmly behind her.
In an awkward atmosphere, Jaemin proceeds to put on a simple top and jeans. The tension is palpable as you fumble through your reasons for being in his room. Confusion clouds your gaze when he extends his black leather jacket towards you, and you silently drape it over your shoulders, catching a scent reminiscent of midnight rain and cinnamon.
"I'm gonna go home.” You mumble.
Jaemin shakes his head in response, "I already said that it's too dark and dangerous –"
"I'll just –"
"Either I'm gonna take you home or you're staying with me," he says sternly. "I can't leave you alone like this… wasted and clearly upset. Plus, Haerin is staying over, so I want some sleep tonight. I know her and Jeno will be fucking all night long.“
You nod, the two of you sharing a silent understanding as your eyes meet in the moonlit room. In that moment, your gaze holds a mix of darkness and glistening emotions. "Take me home.” You softly request.
“My house is gonna empty. You can stay over.” You whisper, heavy breaths taking over your voices.
♥♥♥♥
The air is charged with anticipation as his bulge pressed firmly against your thighs, the sensation sending shivers through your body. You can feel the warmth between you, he’s so hard that his length is digging into your skin.
Jaemin’s staring down at you, body pressed against yours as you fall onto the bed, him following. You can’t believe how sexy he looks. His gaze met yours with an intensity charged with an electric current of unspoken words. The moonlight played across his features, highlighting the depth of his dark eyes and accentuating the sharp contours of his face.
He hovers over you, his fingers delicately caress your face. They trace the contours underneath the hollow of your cheek, along your sleek jawline, and over your fluttering eyelashes. His voice was a low murmur, a tone that revealed a depth to him you hadn’t noticed before. “So fucking pretty.” He whispered, and you felt your pussy throb and ache for him.
The room seemed to pulse with anticipation, a magnetic tension pulling you closer in the dimly lit space. There was a certain warmth in your closeness, an unspoken connection that seemed to bridge the gap between you two effortlessly.
The moment you stepped into the sanctuary of your empty house, your lips found each other in an instant, pressing fervently, lost in a mutual hunger. It was unclear who made the first move; it seemed to be a shared impulse. All you were aware of was the rapid beat of your heart as you found yourself breathlessly kissing and biting his inviting lips, your legs wrapped around his waist in an embrace of longing.
As he carried you upstairs, a whirlwind of desire and impatience in his every step, he threw you down on what was, unknown to him, Haerin’s bed. The room, adorned with countless photos of her with Jeno and her friends, went unnoticed in the dim light, its significance lost in the intensity of the moment.
He had mistaken this room for yours but you can’t be bothered to correct him. In that instant, the only truth that mattered was the closeness between you two. Besides, a part of you relished the thought of fucking him in her bed - this was a subtle payback for all those times Haerin had fucked Jeno on your bed.
Jaemin’s voice, low and teasing, broke the charged silence. “Are you just gonna stare at me all day?” He teased, his voice a low whisper that caressed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Tell me what you want, I’ll give you everything, darling…” His hot breath against your ear, followed by a gentle bite on your earlobe, intensified the moment.
You continued to gaze into his eyes, finding yourself at a loss for words. His presence was overwhelming — a side of him you hadn’t seen before. There was a captivating darkness in his demeanor that left you both stunned and deeply attracted.
His finger traced your lips, gently pulling them down. A smirk played on his lips as his gaze dropped to your legs, wrapped tightly around his waist. Your movements were restless, you keep shuffling, desperate to feel something between your thighs to which Jaemin let out a soft, playful tut too.
“Just fuck me.” You moan out, the words laced with desperation.
He smirks, the embodiment of a tease. “Are you sure?” His whisper is a mix of sweetness and seduction, his eyes soft yet resolute as he looks down at you. His breath fans over your skin, a contrast to the intensity in his gaze.
You nod, trying to attach your lips to his but he dodged, a playful glint in his eyes. “Tell me exactly.”
A moment of silence hangs heavy in the air, filled with unspoken longing.
“Tell me you want me.” He presses, his voice a gentle command.
“I’m sure.” You reply, your voice barely a whisper.
He tuts softly, a sound that sends a thrill through you. Shaking his head, it still wasn’t enough.
“I want you. I want you to touch me, I want you cock in my pussy. I want you to fuck me.”
The air knocks from your lungs when his lips suddenly meet yours in an explosion of sensation. His lips are a perfect mix of softness and firmness, molding against yours with an intensity that sends waves of heat through your body. The taste of him is intoxicating, a hint of sweetness that lingers and beckons for more.
It’s a collision of longing and emotion, intense and all-consuming. Your mouth opens against his, and the moan that escapes you vibrates against his lips, a raw sound of pleasure that deepens the kiss. His tongue meets yours in a dance of shared passion, exploring and responding with equal fervor.
Each brush of his lips sending shivers down your spine. The world around you fades into a blur, leaving only the exquisite feel of his kiss, the taste of him, and the shared breath that seems to connect you on a level beyond words.
His mouth found the sensitive area of your neck, his mouth moving with a mix of tenderness and urgency that made your breath hitch in surprise, having not been touched like this in so long the air has already been sucked out of you. The warmth of his breath against your skin, mingled with the softness of his lips, created an intoxicating sensation, stirring a deep craving within you.
He then trailed a path of fervent kisses up your jawline, each one imbued with a burning intensity, his lips moving against the contours of your face, each kiss a declaration of desire. His movements were both deliberate and instinctual, as if each kiss was guided by a deep, primal need.
With a deep breath, he reached for the hem of your top, fingers brushing against the fabric in a gentle, almost reverent touch. The material was soft and lights
He slowly lifted the top and there was a moment of quiet, a hush that seemed to fill the space with anticipation. The fabric whispered against your skin as it rose and cascaded down your body prettily, the sound as soft as a breeze through autumn leaves.
Jaemin’s eyes found yours, and in them, you saw a whirlwind of emotions. His gaze was intense. The air between you two crackled. His eyes, dark and expressive, spoke volumes more than words ever could. There was a hunger in them.
He lowered his mouth to your chest and immediately brought your nipples to his lips, his first touch was a slow and thoughtful lick, savouring your taste. He took his time, lavishing your nipple with light swirls of his tongue and gentle kisses, which elicited moans of pleasure to spill from your lips.
He gently bit on the sensitive bud of skin, his teeth releasing with a ‘pop,’ followed by a contented smile as you moan his name. His attention to making you feel good was thorough, a mixture of playful bites, long licks, and occasional sucking.
Slowly, he continued with small, delicate kisses, down your body, from your boobs to your upper thigh, the soft press of his lips against your skin made you whine, pulling on his hair and begging him for where you wanted his touch the most. You slowly grind your clothes pussy against his face, he looks up at you with a smirk. “You wanna feel me here?” He whispers, voice filled with breath as his soft fingertips tread along your lower stomach, his lower lip captured between his teeth.
You nod eagerly, a mixture of anticipation and nerves filling you as you hadn’t had sex in 5 months and you didn’t expect to be doing it right now, with Na Jaemin, of all people. It intensifies your emotions but you surprisingly feel ready, you never expected to be so settled in such an intimate embrace with a complete stranger but there was something about Na Jaemin that made you horny.
He presses his lips against yours intensely as his hands gently tease the edge of your mini skirt, eventually slipping beneath the fabric. You break the just for a second, maintaining strong eye contact with him as you pull your mini skirt down your legs, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, caressing it with his soft fingers before eagerly pushing your lace thong down your thighs, lips smashing against yours once again as he tosses both your skirt and thong to the side, trailing kisses up your legs, his fingers beginning to delve into your pussy.
“You’re so fucking wet.” He hisses against your ear, cold fingers making circles against your folds, the hard metals of his rings touching your burning skin as he rubs on your clit.
His fingers push deeper and deeper into your cunt as your head hits the pillow and you let out a loud moan of his name. He drops open mouthed kisses to your neck as he thrusts his fingers in and out your pussy, grunts leaving his lips at how your slick coats his fingers completely, the feeling of you clenching around his fingers and growing wet making his head dizzy.
“Do you see how fucking wet you are?” He whispers, suddenly shoving his fingers in your tiny mouth, making you gag but you suck nonetheless. He brings his fingers to his own mouth, licking your cum and moaning. “Just wanna fucking taste you.”
His eyes close as he delves into your pussy. He starts off slow, soft licks and nips of your already wet clit, you curl your toes, your vision becoming blurry due to the tears of pleasure but you can feel how fucking good he’s eating you out. His tongue laps at your clit, you whine and push his face closer, desperate for him to eat you out like it’s his last meal.
He kisses your folds, giving the delicate and wet skin a loud smooch before moving his lips and tongue at a pace that already has you crying out for him. He’s moaning into you, the sensation causing a vibration within your folds. “So fucking tasty.” He growls, the words muffled against your skin.
His nose presses against your pussy, you wrap your legs around his shoulders and he grips onto your ass, squeezing the flesh and giving it one compact spank before gripping onto your thighs, his grip so tight that you’re caged against him. His nails dig in and you’re sure he’s leaving harsh marks and your grip on his hair is so tight but neither of you care.
Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you the prettiest noises spill from your mouth when your climax hits, you squirt and drip all over your folds and he has every last bit of it, his lips lapping up your sticky wetness as if it’s a treat.
He leans back momentarily to appreciate the sight. Your hot cum leaking out of your tiny and tight hole, before he moves his tongue to lap up every last drop. It goes everywhere, all over his face, down his chin and neck but he’s grunting so loudly, begging you for more. “Taste so fucking good.”
“Jaemin.” You moan out, thrusting your pussy against him and reaching for his hard cock, desperate to feel him where you want him most. “Come on!!!!” You cry out.
He tuts at your impatience, eyes soft as he looks into your teary ones. “Yeah, yeah. Just be patient, baby.” His mouth pops, a sweet smile as you whimper at the use of the pet name, a sweet word said in such a mysterious and sensual way.
A realisation comes to you, have you even introduced yourself to him? Your mouth opens with a heavy moan when Jaemin’s eyes, dark and intense, locked with yours. You could hear the sound of his heavy breathing, a rhythmic echo that matched the quickening pace of your own heart.
You found yourself reacting instinctively. You bucked up slightly as Jaemin’s fingers deftly worked to loosen the belt around his jeans. Sliding it down his legs and tossing it far away.
He’s so hard. You hold his massive cock in your hands, eyes wide and mouth watering at the sheer size of it. You can feel the firmness beneath your fingertips. As you roughly rub his cock, he groans and drops his head to your shoulder, allowing you to touch away. Your fingers glide over the length, he removes your hands and replaces his own, dropping down and aligning his cock with your tight hole. His mouth pressing against yours with an open mouthed kiss.
“I’m Y/N by the way.” You gulp, voice barely audible due to the fucked state that you’re in.
“I know.” He whispers back.
You hum. “I know your name.” He groans louder. “Can I call you baby?” He asks with a smirk, you don’t know if he’s forgotten that he already has but his low and deep voice already has you weak in your knees so you nod enthusiastically.
“Please.” You whimper, feeling so incredibly turned on right now.
He distracts you with sweet kisses to your cheeks, when his cock finally enters your pussy but you’re instantly crying out from overstimulation and sensitivity. He’s so fucking big. You cry out when you realise he’s too big for you. You look down and the feeling of sadness intensifies when you realise only his tip has entered.
He coos in your ear, wiping your tears, holding your hand tightly in his and making the slightest of movements inside of you but you shake your head, a feeling that you can’t describe overtaking you. “You’re too big, it won’t fit. I can’t take it.” You say with an adamance.
“It will fit, baby.” He says simply, giving you a sweet smile and you get lost in his eyes, you find yourself instantly trusting him and it has you questioning yourself, you never trust this easily.
He kisses your temple softly, a tenderness that makes you whine and cry at the same time. You wrap your legs around his waist, craving the closeness. You nod, your doe eyes gazing into his as he makes you promises. “It will all fit, I know I’m big but I’ll make sure of it. I promise I’ll make you feel good, I’ll won’t hurt. I’ll go as slow as you want me to, ok?” His voice is filled with so much genuineness and by kindness that you find it impossible not to melt, your trust growing for him intensely.
He thrusts into you at a slow and sensual pace and before you know it, more and more of his length fills you up until you tighten around him, smiling at how fucking good and cosy it felt. “I told you baby, just trust me.” He smiles, looking down and cooing at the beautiful sight, your walls sucking him in and you tightening around him.
“You’re such a good girl, baby.” He purrs into your ear as he fucks into you at a pace that made your head spin. It was suddenly so fast, the headboard banging, skin slapping against skin, his hands slapping your ass, heavy breathing, passionate moans concealed even though they didn’t need to be, you had the house to yourself, however the two of you found comfort in smashing your lips against each other and moaning into each others mouths.
He fucks his cock deep into you hole, hitting your pleasure spot over and over again, your back arches, your toes curl and your pleasure pool deepens with every thrust. He wipes away your tears gently with his fingers, whispering words of praises that make you whine. The way he’s looking at you fucks your mind up and makes your head spin. His eyes are so soft and so piercing, you feel as though you don’t deserve to be looked at with this tenderness.
However when you try to cover your eyes with your hands, he takes your arms and cages them above your head, shaking his head firmly and giving you a serious look, enough to tell you that he wants to look at you as he fucks you.
Your pussy tightens around him and he groans, your walls continuously clenching around his cock and sucking him in deeper. Your thighs shake around his waist and his hand that’s slapping your ass becomes sloppier and slower. The noises of his cock fucking your wet and creamy cunt turns him on, the need to cum inside you deepening. His moans are more needy and the volume increases, his eyes darken in ways you didn’t expect. He’s pounding into you at an incoherent pace when he feels your high is near.
“Cum in me.” You beg into his ear, panting heavily and he lets out a growl at your needy side.
“Fuck, baby. Are you on the pill?”
You cry out, shaking your head when you remember he’s not even using protection, you were two horny sluts who forgot.
“Fuck. I forgot to wear a condom.” He says in an apologetic voice.
“I don’t care. Cum in me.” The words spill from your mouth so easily, you question whether you want to take it back but you take a look at him. His hair, a dark cascade, fell just above his dark and intense eyes and he hasn’t broken eye contact with you, not once. His smile, so boyish and warm.
Yeah. You’re definitely sure you want his cum in you.
His thrusts become slower and more messy but it still feels fucking good. He kisses you passionately when he cums, moaning against your mouth when you beg for his cum once again.
He fucks you through your high, you moan out his name as your hot cum leaks out of you but he fucks it back into you, his own cum coating your arousal, drops falling down your thighs and leaving a sticky mess. You look down and the sight is beautiful, you don’t know where you start or where he ends.
He paints your walls as he sighs at the feeling. As Jaemin’s lips met yours, there was an immediate rush of warmth and desperation, a culmination of longing transformed into a single, fervent kiss. His lips moved against yours with a passion that spoke volumes, tender yet insistent, The kiss deepened, and you could feel the gentle pressure of his mouth, the soft brush of his breath against your skin.
“Good girl.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.
You fall asleep like that, in his strong arms and grip, his cock buried deep inside of you, thighs still sticky with cum and you know you needed to be cleaned up but as you lay on top of him, head resting against his chest, the lullaby of his heartbeat sends you to immediate sleep.
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liked it??? send me an ask please <333 give feedback and share your thoughts it would mean the world to me
comment to be added to the tag list for part 2!! (will be a 4 part series)
taglist - @sexygrass @tywritesstuff @666-aiko @leep0ems @kyuuniversee @daegalfangirl @side-effects @kgneptun @thecaffeinatedfangirl @i6renj @hcaeh @buns-inhiding @pinknjm @nominsgirl @liliansun
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hardlyinteresting · 1 month ago
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On The Beach
Jake Seresin x Reader
 “Jake Seresin! You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!” Shirtless he backs towards the ocean continuing to remove his shoes, socks and pants, “And what do you think I’m doing, Sugar?”
Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, nudity, idiots in love, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please),I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended)
This one-shot will exist in the same universe as other one-shots I have planned. But, they can all be read entirely independently.
Word count: 2K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler
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July had been unforgiving with heat; sweltering days, broken up by occasional rains that cooled the air but left behind intolerable humidity. August was built up as a promise of relief but instead, she steamrolled the record-setting temperatures of July with her own. 
95°F felt like some kind of cruel trick already, but the air conditioning at The Hard Deck cutting out halfway through a shift was a new kind of torture entirely. 
She’d been quick to help Penny to open up all the doors and windows to all the mild relief of the ocean breeze blowing through, bringing in a flood of daylight so uncommonly seen inside the cozy bar. 
The ice machine set to work overtime, fresh kegs of beer ready to pour by the time the usual crowd of regulars began to pile in. Stripped down to a tank top and shorts she ties her hair up to keep it off the back of her neck, desperate to get through this shift in one piece. With just the two of them behind the bar, she does her best to keep up with the seemingly endless pile of orders, reminding the pilots and veterans to take a glass of ice water as well. 
“Hey Sugar,” Hangman flirts leaning against the counter. It’s not fair that he looks so cool and collected, his khaki uniform still perfectly pressed, his hair neatly styled while she thinks she might be melting with the feeling of sweat on her back. She’s sure she looks a mess, but Hangman doesn’t take his eyes off of her as he waits for her to take his order. 
Jake is certain that despite the shower he took on base, he still smells like jet fuel. The hottest day of the year might not have been so bad under the shade of a big tree back home, a soft breeeze blowing through the branches of sweet-olive trees. He'd spent enough summers in Texas to know how to muck through the dog days. But on base, the heat radiates up from the black top tarmac, threatening to melt the soles of their issued boots. Up in the air, the glass canopy of the cockpit feels like a magnifying glass; doubling both the discomfort of intense flight training, and the intensity of the sun's contributions to the torrid day. 
Stripping off his flight suit and stepping into a cold shower had been a relief, matched only by the promise of a beer at The Hard Deck to end the week. 
The doors and windows were open when he arrived, a wall of humid and stagnant heat rolling from inside the establishment nearly had him turning around to head home before he spotted her. Sugar, with her hair pulled back, sweat gathering across her collarbone and chest, white tank top clinging to her in ways he previously could only imagine. She's a sight for sore eyes, and now leaning against the bar he has no intention of going anywhere else tonight. 
“Beer?” she asks him. 
He nods his confirmation, “bottle please,” he adds. “It’s hot in here today”. 
“AC broke,” she sighs, “Mav is up on the roof trying to fix it now”. 
“I’m not sure there’s much he can’t do,” he shrugs, “Drink some water. I can’t have you passing out, Sugar”. 
She does her best to ignore the flirtatious wink he throws her way. She knows he's a relentless philanderer, she's seen how quickly he can manage to find a date for the night. He's handsome beyond a doubt, and by far one of the kindest patrons she has, but she's not looking to be heartbroken. And friendship has suited the two of them just fine for the last few months, no reason to mess with a good thing. 
After two weeks of working at The Hard Deck, she'd finally given in to The Dagger Squad’s insistence that she join them at the pool table after her shift. Hangman had been a surprisingly gracious loser when she ran him out of 50 bucks. A few weeks later Jake and Bradley had thrown a drunk guy out of the bar when he'd given her a hard time and refused to pay his own tab let alone the rounds ordered at the sound of the bell. 
She had tried to thank him but he'd only given her a curt nod, “Nothing to thank me for, Sugar”. 
So she smiles back at his teasing grins, laughs at his jokes, and blows kisses and he playfully pretends they knock him over. It’s easy, it’s fun. “I know you’re just trying to keep your heart in one piece,” Penny tells her, “but don’t break his either”. 
No one sticks around too long, too tired, and far too warm to take up their usual challenges at the pool table. The sun has gone down by the time Mav comes in to let Penny know he had no luck fixing the AC unit before stopping by the table Bob, Coyote, and Hangman have settled at. Hangman has stripped down to his white undershirt, the T-shirt clinging to his chest and back, the sleeves drawing her attention to his arms that she's caught herself staring at too often to count. 
“Heading out?” She asks when Hangman comes up to the bar, getting ready to close out his tab, “You only had one beer tonight”. 
He nods, “Well, it'd be irresponsible for me to have more. I'm giving you a drive home”. 
She grins, slipping the bill across the counter, “I don't remember you asking me”. 
“Mav’s orders,” he answers easily, with a seriousness that makes her think he really isn't just joking with her. 
“Penny's actually, I was just the messenger,” Maverick holds up his hands in innocence. 
Penny calls last call early, before dismissing her for the night, “cool off. Go home,” she instructs leaving no room for argument. 
The night air feels lighter, though not as refreshing as expected, the breeze cooling the tack of sweat against her balmy skin. The sound of the ocean meeting the beachside echoes in the uncharacteristic quiet. She breathes out a sigh her head tilted back and arms out trying to make the best of the gust of wind blowing by. 
“C’mon,” Jake laughs, “I'll crank the AC for you”. 
She pouts a little in return. The glow from the fluorescent light inside the bar floods out across the deck patio, casting shadows out in front of them. He’s standing a good five feet behind her, but his bedimmed counterpart stretches out next to her own, overlapping as he steps closer. The moonlight shines brightly over the white sand below and it strikes her that despite working beachside all summer, she’s yet to step foot on the beach. Jake smirks, his head tilted towards the beach that's captured her attention. “Let’s go cool off,” his words a playful mimicry of Penny’s instructions.
Without protest, she follows him. His grin grows impossibly bigger, clearly pleased with himself as he watches her shuffle out of her socks and shoes, her footsteps so much smaller than his own, she struggles to keep up, but he never lets her fall too far behind. He moves quickly in the dark, the sand still warm underfoot. Nearing the water's edge he slows his pace. She’s gorgeous in the moonlight. She’s always pretty. His usual coquetry shrinks on the tip of his tongue; lost to thoughts and curiosities about her favourite bands, and what might make her laugh. He’s found himself growing somewhat softer as he thinks back to the night he met her, watching her glide through the room oblivious to the attention she’d managed to capture. Her smile lit up the room as she danced with her friends. Her laughter was loud and uproarious, very near infectious. 
His white shirt hits the sand in an unceremonious pile by her feet. 
“Jake Seresin! You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!”
Shirtless he backs towards the ocean continuing to remove his shoes, socks and pants, “And what do you think I’m doing, Sugar?” “I think you're trying to get me to go skinny dipping with you!” He laughs, “I ain't trying. I'm succeeding”. 
There's not an ounce of shame, nor an ounce of clothing on him as he wades into the water, not turning around to look at her again until his in up past his waist. “C’mon,” he calls to her, “the waters lovely!” 
She's always considered herself to be pretty easy going. But the idea of stripping naked to join Hangman on this oceanic side quest leaves her stomach tied in knots. She's seen enough of him playing football with the squad that she's not shocked by his broad shoulders, nor the expanse of his chest. She knows that standing on the beach, in a tank top a shorts that cling to her the way they do, she has little to hide her own form. But joining Jake in the water will surely only add to the tension they've allowed to build between them. How different is the ocean from an expanse of bedsheets when you're standing naked with Jake Seresin? 
“You have to promise you won't look!” She calls to him, pulling her top up over her head. 
“I promise,” he says, “scouts honour !” 
“Boy scouts? I'm sure you sold a lot of cookies with all that charm of yours”.
She shimmies out of her shorts, hesitating in her bra and underwear. Jake stands with his back to her holding up his end of the deal. 
“Cookies are the Girl Scouts, Sugar,” he corrects, but she can practically hear him grinning, “but I did earn my fundraising activity badge selling tins of popcorn”. 
Bare, she makes a mad dash into the water, splashing as she works to cover as much of herself as possible. 
“So,” she smiles, “you come here often?”
Her voice is quiet as she hopes that the joke lands, her knees bent to keep her top half under the cover of the unlit water. She tries to play cool. Jake, to his credit, plays along without missing a beat. “I can't say I do, Sugar. The dress code is too loose for my taste”.
“Ah, yes, of course. I forgot you're known for being a prude, Hangman”.
A gentle, yet unexpected wave pushes into the shoreline, knocking her sideways. Jake is quick to wrap his hand around her upper arm, not letting her get too far. This close, it’s impossible to hide from the gaze of his warm green eyes. He smells like cedar and amber. Warm and clean. Beneath it, the smell of jet fuel lingers. She knows how hard he must try to scrub it from himself at the end of each day, and she wonders if it might just be in his blood at this point. Another wave pushes them closer together once more. 
He clears his throat, trying hard not to think about how close circumstance has brought them; he weighs the validity of fate but pushes it down deep inside certain that one day these unlabelled feelings might just explode in his chest. For now, he startles when a sudden splash of water is directed towards his face. Sugar feigns innocence, but starts to paddle away from him as he blinks away the water from his eyes. 
“Sugar,” he warns, “don’t start something you don’t want to finish”. His own hands, larger than hers cup more of the ocean's surface propelling it in her direction with a great slosh, the sound echoing on the empty beach.
Up on the deck, Penny and Maverick watch the two distant figures throwing water, their laughter audible even when their words aren’t.
“Do you think they know there are sharks in that water?” 
Penny shrugs, “Do you think they know they’re half in love with each other yet?”
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simplygojo · 2 months ago
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A Path I Can't Follow
Author's Note: SO I was already writing this one shot when I got this awesome request from an anon, so I merged it into this. My Star Wars fans will be so happy with this one LOLL, well actually not happy bc its mega angst (iykyk). JUSTICE FOR ANAKIN AND SUGURU!!!
I recommend listening to your favourite sad playlist while reading, makes the experience 1111000% better.
Pairing: Suguru Geto x f!reader
Also, I have a giveaway event going on rn, if you'd like to enter to win an Amazon gift card then check it out here.
Request linked here
Warnings: violence, grief, loss, death. (yeah, I said mega angst...)
Tags: @simplyyyuji; If you'd like to be added to my taglist pls comment/dm me!
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It had been almost a month since Suguru Geto abandoned the Jujutsu world, leaving behind a trail of devastation that none of you could have anticipated. 
The day Gojo gave you the news…your world fractured in ways you couldn’t comprehend.
When Satoru found you in the training hall, his usually carefree expression was replaced with something grim, something haunted. 
The lighthearted banter you’d come to expect from him was absent, replaced by a heavy silence that stretched between you like a void. 
You had known something was wrong before he even said it, but nothing could have prepared you for the words that followed.
Suguru had cursed an entire village—men, women, children—and even worse, his own parents were among them.
Your mind couldn’t grasp it at first. 
The Suguru you knew, the one who held you close on quiet nights, who used to laugh softly at your terrible jokes and talk about a future that didn’t involve exorcisms or endless battles, was suddenly unrecognizable. 
How could he have done something so monstrous?
You remembered staring blankly at Gojo, your body numb, the room spinning as he continued speaking, his voice distant as you felt something hot stream down your cheeks. 
You had been dating Suguru for three years—three years of knowing every side of him…or so you thought. 
But this? 
This was something you could never have imagined.
The ache in your chest was unbearable, it felt as if someone had hollowed you out from the inside. You shook your head violently “No…no…”
You couldn’t produce an image of the man you loved according to the monster Gojo had described. 
The same man who used to trace circles on your back as you fell asleep, whispering that everything would be okay, had now left a village in ruins, and your mind couldn’t process it.
Gojo’s voice had softened when he saw the look on your face, but the pity in his eyes only made it worse, and you fell to the ground in a broken mess. 
"I’m sorry," he’d said, and though you knew he meant it, those words felt hollow, as you knew he had lost someone important too in all of this.
You barely remembered what happened after that. 
The days blurred together in a haze of disbelief and grief. You stayed in your room, replaying every conversation, every mission, searching for the moment when it all went wrong. 
How had you missed this? 
How could Suguru have changed so completely without you realizing it?
The weight of his absence crushed you. 
The empty spaces he left behind—the way your bed felt too big without him in it, the quiet moments in the common room that you used to fill with laughter—were suffocating. 
And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the truth: Suguru Geto, the man you loved, had become someone you didn’t recognize. 
And you didn’t what from him, no goodbye, no I’m sorry—nothing from the man you loved.
You had been avoiding your phone, pushing the thoughts of Suguru away because they hurt too much to hold onto. 
The soft knock at your bedroom door made your heart jump, only for it to fall when you realized it wasn’t him—It was never him.
But when you opened the door to see a letter laid on the ground—folded, worn edges, and unmistakably his handwriting—your world spun for a moment. 
He had sent it. After everything, after weeks of silence, Suguru sent you a note.
Your fingers trembled as you opened it, heart racing, unsure whether you should laugh or cry at the mere fact that he reached out.
"Meet me."
And, God help you, you went.
The air was thick, and the sky was dark when you arrived at the temple. 
It clung to your skin, heavy with unspoken words, with things left unsaid between the two of you. 
Your feet felt like they were sinking into the earth as you climbed the steps, each one pulling you deeper into a place you weren’t sure you could return from.
And there he was.
Suguru stood by the edge of the open hall, staring out into the night, his back turned to you as the wind stirred his long hair. He didn’t move as you approached, didn’t say anything, even though you knew he had to have sensed your presence. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, willing your voice to come out steady. "Suguru."
It barely came out as a whisper, but it was enough. His shoulders stiffened, the only sign that he had heard you. 
You waited for him to turn, for him to say something—anything—that would make sense of the last few weeks. But he didn’t move.
The silence pressed down on you, suffocating.
“Why did you do all this?” You finally asked, your voice cracking under the weight of the question that had haunted you every day since he disappeared.
Suguru exhaled slowly, a sound that was more sigh than breath. "I had to." He said before finally turning around to face you. 
That was all he offered. 
No apology, no explanation, just that hollow statement, like it was meant to answer everything.
You could see his features soften as your eyes locked. 
He had almost forgotten how beautiful you were, how your features calmed him and brought him warmth—a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.
You shook your head, trying to hold yourself together as you spoke softly. 
“You didn’t have to. You didn’t have to curse an entire village to death. You didn’t even tell me—” Your voice cracked as you felt the pain of his absence catching up to you. “You left me. You left all of us.”
Finally, he began slowly walking towards where you stood in the doorway. His eyes met yours, and the sight of him, standing there so composed, so distant, shattered something inside you.
"I couldn’t stay," he said, his voice steady in a way that made your chest ache. "This world… it’s broken. Staying wouldn’t change that."
You took a step toward him, desperation clawing at you. "We could’ve fixed it together. You didn’t even try to talk to Satoru or me. You didn’t have to leave."
He shook his head, his eyes hard, resolute. 
"You shouldn’t bother yourself with Satoru…” He paused, “I’m building something new. Something better. I can’t fix this world from the inside. I can’t pretend anymore." He took a few more steps, closing the distance between you with agonizing slowness, each step erasing the space but widening the gap between who he had been and who he had become.
You felt the urge rise, the instinct to reach out, to touch him like you used to, like it would somehow bring him back to you. 
But your hands stayed frozen at your sides, weighed down by the fear—no, the fact that your beautiful boy was already too far gone.
Your heart dropped. 
The person standing in front of you wasn’t the Suguru you had known, the one who held you close after every mission, the one who whispered your name like it was a prayer. This man was a stranger, distant and cold.
“And what about us?” Your voice cracked again, tears burning behind your eyes as you fought to keep them at bay. “What about everything we had, Suguru?”
His jaw clenched. For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes, something soft and familiar. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same, chilling determination. 
"I can’t go back." His voice was quiet but firm as his thumb ran over your sift skin, reminding you of the happiness you once had with this man.
Unbeknownst to you, tears began to slip down your cheeks, hot and unchecked. You leaned into his touch, your voice trembling with emotion. 
“What you are doing…I-It’s insane. You, me, the others—we were building something.”
He shook his head, his expression hardening as his gaze turned distant again but still locked onto your crying eyes, his hand moving down to rest on the side of your neck, his touch was cold on your warm skin. 
“No, y/n. We weren’t building anything. I was just wasting my time.”
You flinched as if he had struck you, the weight of his words slamming into you, stealing the breath from your lungs. 
“Wasting time?” 
You staggered back, away from his grasp, shaking your head, hands gripping your arms as though trying to hold yourself together. 
“This isn’t you, Suguru. You’re not this... this person. You’re not—not a monster…” Your voice faltered, a sob finally breaking free from your quivering lips as you looked away from his once-kind eyes. 
“Come home to me, baby. Please.”
You hated how desperate you sounded, how your heart felt like it was shattering in your chest as you stood there, pleading with the only person you had ever truly loved.
“I can’t,” he said softly, and that softness hurt worse than anything else. His eyes met yours, and you saw it—the finality in them. 
“I’m building something new. A world where the weak don’t suffer. A world that’s right.”
Tears streamed down your face, hot and bitter, but you couldn’t stop them. “We could do that together! We could—”
“No, y/n!” His voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and cold as ice. 
He had never yelled at you, never raised his voice like this, and the sound of it sent a fresh wave of pain and fear crashing over you. 
“We can’t.”
You flinched at his harshness, your breath hitching as his words sank in. He looked away, jaw clenched tight, as if the mere sight of your tears was too much for him. 
"I’m doing this for us," he continued, his voice lower but no less resolute. "For everyone.”
"Suguru…you’re breaking my heart, you’re going down a path I can’t follow” The words slipped out, quiet but forceful. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him, the man you always thought you couldn’t live without.
He shook his head softly, slowly approaching you as you moved away from him. “Y/n…everything I’ve done, has been necessary…"
“Necessary?” You spat, your voice trembling as your grief twisted into rage, angry tears streaming down your face. “You think abandoning me—abandoning everything we have worked for—is necessary?”
He shook his head, taking small steps towards you slowly closing the space between you once more. 
“You don’t understand,” he murmured. “I’m not abandoning you. I’m—”
“Then what is this?!” You interrupted, your voice breaking as the pain inside you twisted into something desperate, broken. 
“What do you call this if not abandonment?!” You screamed, your tear-filled eyes locking with his, and you knew he could see the pain in your soul, the pain he caused you.
Suguru’s eyes flashed, a familiar glint passing through them, and for the first time since you arrived, you saw something close to regret in his gaze. He looked at you in a way you never thought you’d get to see again—with love.
Before you could even react, his lips were on yours, urgent and full of emotion. 
The kiss hit you like a truck, your breath stolen from your lungs as his hand moved to the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair as he desperately pulled you closer.
The shock of it left you frozen for a heartbeat, but then your body responded on its own, your hands reaching up to cup his face. 
Your fingers brushed against the familiar curve of his jaw, the rough stubble beneath your touch grounding you in a moment that felt both surreal and inevitable. 
The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was raw, a mixture of desperation and longing, as if he were trying to pour every unsaid word, every unresolved feeling, into the press of his lips.
Suguru kissed you like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, as if he could somehow erase the pain that he saw reflected in your tears with this one act. 
His lips were soft, but his grip on you was firm, holding you as if he couldn’t bear to let go. 
And for a moment, you let yourself fall into it—into him. You let the world fall away, let the ache in your chest dissolve into the warmth of his touch.
Your hands trembled slightly as they moved from his jaw to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, refusing to let him slip away again. 
His kiss deepened, and you felt the weight of all the emotions he wasn’t saying—the regret, the sorrow, the love that still lingered between you, even in the midst of everything.
But as your lips moved with his, the reality of what was happening began to creep back in. 
This kiss wasn’t a promise—it was a goodbye, a last grasp at something that had already been broken beyond repair. 
You could feel it in the way his body pressed against yours, in the way his breath hitched slightly as he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.
His hand lingered on the back of your head, but there was a distance in his touch, a hesitation that hadn't been there before. 
When you opened your eyes and looked into his, you saw the tears welling up, threatening to spill from the depths of his deep purple gaze.
“Suguru…” Your voice was soft as you spoke, 
“I love you, I have, continue to, and will forever love you.” 
You watched his eyes search yours, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air as a single tear slipped down his cheek, his lips quivered slightly, and you felt your heart shatter within your chest. 
Instinctively, you raised your thumb to wipe it away, your gentle touch resting on his skin as your hands cradled his face. The warmth of his skin under your fingertips contrasted sharply with the hot tears streaming down your own face, the ache in your chest growing as you held onto each other tightly. 
His fingers traced small, soothing patterns on your cheek, evoking the memories of laughter and love you once shared, of moments that felt invincible and eternal.
“Please, baby, come h—” you began, desperation threading through your voice, the plea heavy on your lips. But before you could finish, he cut you off with another kiss—this one frantic and urgent, a collision of emotions. 
Your lips moved together, moisture mixing due to you both crying, it was as if he were trying to convey everything he couldn't articulate, the weight of his sorrow and regret pouring into the embrace. 
His hands became tangled in your hair again as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with familiarity.
He kissed you with a fervour that spoke of longing, a need to bridge the gap that had formed between you. 
This kiss was deeper and more intense, echoing the confessions left unspoken, the promises he had broken. 
In that moment, you both surrendered to the flood of feelings that surged between you, clinging to each other as if the world around you had ceased to exist.
He pulled away gently, leaning his forehead against yours. 
“Please, Suguru,” you said through your tears, your voice raw. “I love you. I love you so much.”
For a long, agonizing moment, he didn’t say anything. 
He just looked at you, as if memorizing the way you looked right then—broken, crying, desperate. 
“Love won’t save you, y/n, only power can do that.” He said, straightening his spine and letting his hands fall to his sides. 
“But at what cost? You are a good person, probably the best I’ve ever met. Don’t do this!” You cried, watching his eyes darken with something you weren't familiar with. 
“You don’t understand, y/n, I am bringing about the world of the sorcerers! Those monkeys needed to be taken out in order for us to survive.” He tried explaining, and you felt your heart practically tearing apart.
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing…Satoru was right…You’ve changed.” You said, taking a few steps backward to create some space between you. You noticed his eyebrows crinkle at the sound of your words.
“I don’t want to hear any more about Satoru!” He shouted, growing visibly angry as he continued, “He thinks he can take anything he wants, don’t you let him take you from me too!” 
You let out a defeated sigh, but the hot stream of tears didn’t stop flowing. “I don't know you anymore Suguru…”
“Because of Satoru?” He said accusingly.
You shook you head, a look of disbelief sprawled across your face. 
“Because of what you've done—What you plan to do! Stop! Stop now... come back! I love you!”
Suguru’s features softened and he took a gentle step towards you. Before you could get another word out, his eyes darted to the doorway behind you, and that dark angered look returned. 
You turned your head to meet the object of his gaze and were surprised to see Gojo standing in the doorway, his shades loosely between two fingers at his side.
“You’re with him! You brought him here because you know he’s the only one who can kill me!” Suguru shouted, his eyes meeting yours with a raging fire you hadn’t seen before, sending a wave of fear through your body. 
“No! I don’t know why he’s her–.” You pleaded your hands clasping together in front of you—But Suguru wasn’t listening. 
All he saw was red—the overwhelming rage and betrayal clouding his judgment, twisting every word you said into something darker.
Without hesitation, his hand lifted, fingers curling into a fist. The motion was swift, almost instinctive, and before you could react, the sensation of his familiar snake-like curse coiled around your body. 
Its grip tightened with terrifying speed, constricting your airway, and your breath hitched violently.
Panic surged through you as your vision began to blur. You tried to speak, tried to plead with him, but the pressure around your throat made it impossible. 
Your hands flew up to your neck in a futile attempt to loosen the curse’s grip, but it was no use.
Your eyes locked onto his, searching for some sign of the man you once loved—some hint of the tenderness he used to show you. But the fire in his gaze was all-consuming, the rage overpowering the softness you had once known.
Tears streamed down your face, each drop burning against your skin as your body began to falter. 
Yet, through the haze of suffocating pain, you noticed something—the glistening tears that fell from Suguru’s own eyes, tracing silent paths down his cheeks.
Even in his anger, his heart ached. 
But it wasn’t enough to stop him.
Before you could let out your final breath, you managed to say one last thing as you stared into his dangerous eyes–the same ones you fell in love with, searching for one last glimpse of the man you loved.
“I will–always love–you.” You breathed, voice hoarse as you felt your body slip into unconsciousness. 
A single tear slipped down his cheek, one he didn’t bother wiping away this time. The weight of your final words crushed him, cracking through the hardened shell he’d encased himself in. 
‘I can’t let Satoru take her from me’ he thought to himself.
Suguru’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing as your words hung in the air like a ghost. 
‘I will—always love—you.’
It was as if the last shred of your strength had been spent in those words, the way you looked at him, your eyes full of love and pain, piercing through the darkness he’d embraced.
His grip on you tightened, the snake-like curse coiling around your now limp neck with unrelenting force. 
His thoughts were frantic—disjointed. 
But then, Gojo’s voice boomed, snapping through the suffocating tension like a whip, 
“Suguru, let her go!” It wasn’t a request—it was a command. At that moment, the intensity of Gojo's eyes was enough to shake even Suguru.
“Let her go, damn it!” Gojo’s voice cracked, desperation seeping through his usual unshakable composure. 
“You’ve probably just killed her!”
Suguru’s hands faltered, his eyes widening in sudden horror. 
Gojo’s words pierced through the haze of rage clouding his mind. 
Killed her? No… That couldn’t be true. 
He hadn’t meant to hurt you, hadn’t meant for this to happen. He’d only wanted to protect you—to keep you by his side.
“No…no, no, no…” Suguru muttered, releasing the curse, causing your body to fall to the floor with a loud thud. His hand covered his mouth as he stumbled back. 
His eyes flickered between you and Gojo, and he quickly went to hold you in his arms. “No!” 
Panic seeped into his gaze as he saw your limp form cradled in his arms, your head lolling to the side. 
‘No, she’s not—she can’t be—’
“Y/n…?” Suguru whispered, dropping to his knees beside you, his trembling hands hovering over your neck, unsure, terrified of what he might find. 
His breathing hitched, and for the first time in a month, Suguru Geto was terrified.
“Suguru, what did you do?!” Gojo's voice rang out again, fury and heartbreak mingling together. 
His hands clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body taut as he fought the urge to tear Suguru apart. 
But even now, beneath the rage, there was still that glimmer of hope—hope that you could be saved.
Suguru shook his head, his movements erratic, his denial absolute. “She’s—she’s fine, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to—” His voice broke, trembling as his eyes darted between your pale face and Gojo’s stricken expression. 
He hadn’t meant to kill you—he never meant for it to end this way.
“I-I didn’t—” His words trailed off, his mind spiralling as he realized the depth of what he had done. 
The weight of his actions crashed down on him, and for a moment, he was paralyzed by the enormity of his guilt.
Gojo’s eyes narrowed, his hands trembling as he walked towards where you laid in his arms.
“Suguru,” he growled, voice laced with cold fury. 
“You’ve killed her.”
“No!” Suguru shouted, backing away from you, as if Gojo’s words were physical blows. 
His chest heaved, his breath shallow as panic surged through him. 
He stumbled to his feet, shaking his head in disbelief, refusing to accept what had just happened.
“No, I didn’t—she’s not—she’s still alive!”
Gojo’s pained gaze flickered to your still form, and in that instant, Suguru knew—he couldn’t stay. 
Not with Gojo there. Not with the full weight of his crime pressing down on him. He turned on his heel, his heart hammering in his chest as he muttered incoherent apologies to the air, his mind fractured and overwhelmed.
Without another word, Suguru bolted from the room, his footsteps echoing in the hollow silence. 
Gojo didn’t move—he couldn’t. Not yet. Not when your life hung in the balance.
The room fell into a suffocating quiet, the remnants of your final plea still echoing in the air.
There weren’t many thoughts going through Gojo’s head as he carried your lifeless body back to Jujutsy High, just one—he had lost his two best friends that night.
5 Days Later
Suguru had recruited a few curse users since his incident with you and Gojo at the temple. He had managed to knock you out so Gojo wouldn’t be able to stick around and kill him, he couldn’t afford to delay his plans. Or so he convinced himself.
One evening, he was approached by two girls he had adopted, Nanako and Mimiko, who claimed to have news from Jujutsu High, as they were responsible for gaining intel from the school to keep tabs. 
“Let's hear it. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you girls,” He said softly, a warm smile playing on his lips as the two girls sat beside him. 
“Not at all, Mr. Geto.” Mimiko said taking out a piece of paper from her pocket to read some bullet points, written in glitter gel pens. 
“Um, no one is making any real progress on tracking you down, probably because they’re all idiots,” she said, rolling her eyes. Suguru let out a small chuckle.
“Well that’s good news, anything else?” He said, that same smile plastered on his face.
“Oh yeah, that girl sorcerer you fought with is dead, what was her name? Ummmmm, oh yeah! Y/n y/l/n!” 
Suguru’s entire body went rigid, the casual warmth that had coloured his voice just moments ago draining in an instant. His heart seized in his chest as Mimiko’s words echoed in his ears.
‘Y/n y/l/n… dead.’
“No,” he muttered, his voice strained and barely audible as the room seemed to tilt around him. 
“That’s impossible. I—” He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. 
“I just knocked her unconscious… I didn’t—” His words trailed off, his mind spiralling back to that moment, to the look in your eyes as his cursed spirit wrapped around your neck.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt her. I didn’t mean to…’
“Yeah,” Nanako added, her tone indifferent as she glanced at the paper. “That doctor lady’s  report said her neck was broken—shattered, actually. Sounds like there was nothing they could do. She died instantly.”
Suguru’s breath hitched in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. 
His mind raced back to that final moment, your whispered words replaying in his head over and over again. ‘I will—always love—you.’
‘How had it come to this? How had he let it happen?’
His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady himself, but the world was slipping through his fingers. 
He hadn’t meant to kill you. He didn’t want that. He had only wanted to stop you—stop you from siding with Gojo. Stop you from leaving him, like everyone else had. 
But now… Now you’re gone.
“Mr. Geto?” Mimiko’s soft voice attempted to pull him out of his thoughts, but it did nothing to soothe the storm that raged inside him. 
He couldn’t hear her. He could barely hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears, the distant echo of your last breath.
He stood abruptly, pushing away from the table, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Both girls flinched, their eyes widening in confusion as they watched his usually composed demeanour unravel.
“Mr. Geto?” Nanako called out again, her voice small.
But Suguru wasn’t listening anymore. He turned away, his mind a tangled mess of disbelief and horror. 
He had to get out—out of this room, out of this suffocating realization that he had killed the one person who had loved him enough to try to save him.
His chest heaved as he stumbled toward the door, his vision blurring at the edges. The air felt too thick, too hot, and for the first time in years, 
Suguru Geto felt like he was drowning. 
‘I killed my beautiful y/n…’ The thought reverberated like a haunting mantra, suffocating him from the inside.
He barely registered the sound of the girls calling after him as he staggered outside, cold night air hitting his skin but doing little to calm the chaos inside him. 
Suguru collapsed to his knees, his breath ragged, his hands clutching at his head as if he could somehow block out the reality of what he had done. 
The tears came, unbidden, hot and stinging, falling freely down his face as he let out a broken, anguished sob.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. 
“Y/n…” he whispered into the cold night air, his voice shattered. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
But it was too late. He had chosen the dark side…
The world he sought to create, one where the weak no longer suffered, now felt more hollow than ever.
And all that remained was the bitter taste of regret, the price of his ambition.
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zepskies · 7 months ago
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A Crime of Passion
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.
AN: I couldn't help myself lol. I wrote this last night. Here's a quick little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set directly after A Good Man Is Hard to Find!
Based on this request from @jessicalynnann.
Word Count: 550
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, fluff, and a murder (of sorts).
Catch up on the TMH-verse: ⤵️
❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist
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You just…you couldn’t stop laughing.
“All right, you done?” Beau asked.
You never thought you’d see this man blush so thoroughly. It made you laugh harder, though you tried to stifle it with your hands covering your face.
He had you laid out beside him, still skin against naked skin as the cool air began to dry your dewy bodies.
You were lying against him in an odd position, considering your bed now had a deep crack in the bedframe that ran all the way down the middle. It meant your legs were bent at an angle, almost like you were laying in a recliner seat.
You just couldn’t believe it.
This man had really broken your bed.
In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)
There were even a couple of screws that had rolled across the tile floor.
“Again, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll pay for a new frame,” Beau said contritely.
The truth was, he was embarrassed beyond belief.
Another giggle escaped you, though you tried to soothe him by caressing his cheek.
“Baby, it’s okay. This thing was old. I’m surprised it survived the move all the way from Chicago, honestly,” you said. The twinkle of mischief in your eyes made his face warm further.
“But how damn lucky am I,” you added, your lips curving. “My man quite literally shatters expectations when he makes love to me.”
And despite the unexpected cracking sound that had left you wide-eyed, it had been a spectacular finish. Even now, you were still tingling between your legs from how hard you’d come on his cock. (Twice.)
You slipped your bare leg between both of his and pressed a sweet kiss to his chest.
Beau fought it, but he had to smile at your words, and your affection. He sunk a hand into your tangled hair, first brushing his thumb against your cheek.
“You sure you’re okay then?” he asked.
“I’m more than okay,” you said. He felt the shape of your smile against his skin. You pulled back to meet his eyes. “Better the bed than my back, anyway. Jesus.”
Beau let out a sigh. Another giggle bubbled over and escaped you. You rubbed his arm.
“Think of it this way,” you said. “Now we can go pick out a new bed together.”
Beau tilted his head at that, and he nodded. A smile grew across his face.
“Now there’s an idea,” he said. It was probably too soon for him to broach the topic of moving in with you, but this could be a good first step.
“Right?” you replied in excitement. But there was something else dancing in your eyes. “We’ll just have to make sure the frame’s reinforced with titanium or something, because goddamn.”
Beau couldn’t help but laugh. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder while his own shook. You held him to you and didn’t bother to try and hide your own amusement anymore.
One thing you knew for sure?
There was no way in hell you’d ever let him live this down.
And one thing he would never tell you…
Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.
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AN: 😂 Well then. That was fun, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️
Keep Reading:
Here’s a one-shot set a couple of months after this one. It’s called S.I.N.G.:
Summary: Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.
▶️ Next Story: S.I.N.G.
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Take Me Home Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
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@wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @brianochka
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gyuswhore · 6 months ago
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Never Shall We Die (3; final)
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«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »» 
PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader
PLAYLIST: right here!
pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)
SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.
GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk
WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k
Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k
@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman
masterlist
WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out
[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3
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THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons. 
But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased. 
Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness. 
Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart. 
Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it. 
The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first. 
“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear. 
“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer. 
“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”
“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”
“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!” 
“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.
“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”
They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him. 
Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants. 
But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day. 
The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides. 
Please be okay. 
And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors. 
And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure. 
The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised. 
When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you. 
There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water. 
“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand. 
You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking. 
The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds. 
“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.” 
Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had. 
Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space. 
He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed. 
“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall. 
“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”
He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him. 
“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it. 
His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards. 
So much for leaving quietly. 
The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity. 
He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready. 
“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”
Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself. 
It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard. 
Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing. 
Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first. 
The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water. 
He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to. 
“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”
The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now. 
Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered. 
For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew. 
The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck. 
The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle. 
Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship. 
Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck. 
“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below. 
“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes. 
The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible. 
There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows. 
“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope. 
Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”
“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”
So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination. 
His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere. 
When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck. 
What he sees puts his heart in his throat. 
You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them. 
Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.
He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream. 
His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened. 
Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out. 
Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.
“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up. 
“She—”
Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck. 
Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk. 
The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife. 
And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.
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WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad. 
You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight. 
It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was. 
It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading. 
You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.
It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice. 
Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons. 
He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.
And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror. 
Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment. 
He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand. 
Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck. 
Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck. 
Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray. 
It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings. 
You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless. 
Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.
You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”
Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time. 
Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.
It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side. 
And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand. 
Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there. 
You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.
But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget. 
The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.  
The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence. 
“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”
“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.” 
“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says. 
As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live. 
Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”
The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger. 
Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King. 
“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation. 
And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign. 
Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod. 
Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:
“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”
And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below. 
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THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work. 
It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames. 
Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water. 
Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t. 
Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own? 
You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father. 
He could find his freedom elsewhere. 
And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness. 
Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing. 
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THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.  
But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to. 
The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it. 
Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place. 
“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.
Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood. 
The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits. 
When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water. 
Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water. 
Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat. 
All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck. 
The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you. 
“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”
Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in. 
He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash. 
Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own. 
Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him. 
And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects  but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it. 
Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you. 
What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea. 
Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you. 
He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more. 
Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal. 
And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.
His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could. 
Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms. 
With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards. 
Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has. 
But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything. 
He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far. 
Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface. 
And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious. 
“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”
Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them. 
Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck. 
The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing. 
“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose. 
“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”
In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue. 
“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!” 
The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half. 
Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off. 
Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you. 
“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything. 
Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly. 
Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body. 
The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out. 
You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily. 
“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”
Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship. 
“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it. 
It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain. 
By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies. 
“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”
“And…?” he asks in silence. 
“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”
“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”
“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision. 
Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.
“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”
The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.
To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.
Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious. 
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IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element. 
Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors. 
As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen. 
The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died. 
You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights. 
Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all. 
“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”
“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”
“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”
Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.
“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say. 
Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”
Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.
“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan. 
“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”
“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.
“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.” 
You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place. 
“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks. 
“Everything,” you sigh. 
“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”
Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”
He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”
“I mean it.”
“Hm?”
“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”
“Who said I didn’t have to?”
“Our deal was done.”
“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”
“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”
His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”
“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”
“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”
“And you are…?”
“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles. 
The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for. 
That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal. 
Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead. 
“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”
You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”
He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”
“Tell me.”
“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”
He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”
“How humble,” you hum. 
“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”
“Am I a survivor?” you question. 
“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”
No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen. 
“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”
“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid. 
“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”
In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last. 
And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another. 
Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless. 
Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet. 
On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time. 
Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity. 
You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand. 
Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment. 
Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck. 
That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.  
“Will you stay with me?”
With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss. 
The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now. 
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IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has. 
Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table. 
“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”
The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring. 
“Your Majesty—”
“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”
Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”
That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after. 
“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”
Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”
They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless. 
“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.” 
In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”
Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies. 
“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”
The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men. 
Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun. 
Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same. 
There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back. 
Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit. 
Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart. 
Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted. 
He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company. 
“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents. 
“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms. 
“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”  
There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed. 
He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him. 
“Stay. Please.”
True as he has always been, he does.
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THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.
And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life. 
Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner. 
The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night. 
Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion. 
Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented. 
“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone. 
“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile. 
“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”
Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”
“Disappointed?” 
“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”
“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment. 
“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.
Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”
“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”
Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”
At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?” 
Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”
He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours. 
But you don’t. 
“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”
With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”
It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”
“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”
Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?
“Are you going to abandon me too?”
His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him. 
“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.
“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably. 
In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you. 
“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”
Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”
“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”
“I don’t want someone! I want you!”
He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly. 
“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”
He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.
“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”
Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him. 
“I—” he stutters. “The court—”
“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”
You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer. 
“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”
Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth. 
It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again. 
“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”
He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”
For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more. 
The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath. 
The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back. 
“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”
As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face. 
“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”
With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight. 
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BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely. 
Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign. 
But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own. 
Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask. 
“Has the Captain approached?” 
“No, your Majesty.”
You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.” 
Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body. 
Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep. 
That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss. 
Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out. 
Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock. 
“Your guards mortify me.” 
“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”
“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”
Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. 
“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”
“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”
It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”
He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”
Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway. 
Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it. 
If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle. 
From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.
He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving. 
Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.
With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him. 
Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed. 
“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”
“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute. 
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”
Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”
“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”
He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much. 
Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether. 
Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing. 
By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed. 
He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable. 
Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar  that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound. 
You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound. 
On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist. 
The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air. 
Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up. 
“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh. 
The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard. 
“Soonyoung!” 
Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced. 
Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs. 
Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach. 
Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.
“What…What’re you doing?” 
Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question. 
It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—
Ah. 
If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him. 
Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know. 
The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive. 
Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten. 
“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?” 
Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him. 
“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 
It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his. 
Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly. 
The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white. 
With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers. 
You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.
Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused. 
All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were. 
You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue. 
He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit. 
“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder. 
When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt. 
It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further. 
And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system. 
It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree. 
“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible. 
Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were. 
Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”
Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath. 
“I need words, my love.”
Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”
The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you. 
You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 
Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him. 
You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence. 
Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks. 
His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling. 
Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth. 
Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you. 
In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before. 
Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up. 
And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”
He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?” 
It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”
You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”
Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear. 
“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”
His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions. 
The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth. 
“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”
“You weren’t?” 
He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”
Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.” 
Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.” 
You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”
Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”
The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you. 
And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you. 
“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest. 
“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again. 
Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before. 
“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely. 
“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud. 
Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own. 
But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open. 
“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely. 
Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay. 
He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake. 
Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern. 
It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—
Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you. 
“Oh, Soonyoung.”
Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched. 
All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed. 
He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure. 
One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast. 
It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.
And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again. 
“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”
You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further. 
He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop. 
“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”
Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you. 
It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made. 
He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs. 
You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed. 
“Hi,” he grins. 
“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face. 
He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could. 
You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth. 
“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest. 
You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping. 
He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face. 
“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek. 
“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.
“I’d let you, but…”
“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine. 
He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”
“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark. 
Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart. 
“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”
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BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens. 
It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.
The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace. 
Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this. 
The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same. 
“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”
He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”
“Soonyoung—”
“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”
Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.” 
“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name. 
“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly. 
“I love you.”
“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”
You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.” 
It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes. 
Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers. 
Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers. 
He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone. 
And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly. 
Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”
Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens. 
You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow. 
You could get used to this. And you will. 
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THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace. 
The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses. 
The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer. 
And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks. 
You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship. 
There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow. 
His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take. 
Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago. 
By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.
“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern. 
“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom. 
It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?” 
“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”
His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”
By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you. 
“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”
Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.” 
There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s. 
“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands. 
You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port. 
“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at. 
He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace. 
“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”
“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light. 
One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder. 
He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back. 
As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon. 
There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend. 
For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings. 
That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you. 
Always. 
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[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3
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i2sunric · 7 months ago
Text
𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (p.js)
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pairing: doctor!jay x reader (f)
summary: you’ve always thought dating a doctor was hot until you started realising his job was taking your place— but don’t worry, being a doctor meant jay could always stitch your broken heart up!
warnings: fluff (like, 3am typa fluff), early 2000s au, childhood friends to lovers but they’re already lovers, angst (with comfort) cuddling and kissing, a little suggestive (no smut), they grow up together (narration starts from 18), mentions of stress and fainting, mentions of pregnancy, fighting, if more lmk. NOT PROOFREAD.
published: 29th April 2024
wc: 10.5k (longer than i intended ;-;)
tag list: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @wtfhyuck @kim2005bomi @luvpjs7 @sundoie @sunghours @anittamaxwynnn @tinie03
It was the last summer of senior year at high school, the year that everyone would choose what path to undertake, the life they wanted to live, the job they wanted to get.
As scary as it sounded, you didn’t want to think about it yet, just to focus on living your last summer as a teenager before adulthood kicked in with all its difficulties and challenges.
You were laying on the bed at Jay’s holiday cottage at the lake, the temperature of the afternoon was too hot to let you stay outside, so you seeked some escape from the humidity in his bedroom. The grids were only slightly open to let some sun rays enter the room, just enough not to turn on the light.
You were reading a pook, wearing only a dump swimming suit and a pair of jeans shorts, you drenched the sheets but you knew it would be perfectly dry by the evening, so you didn’t really care.
Jay laid on the other side of the bed, your feet beside his head as he studied an anatomy book. You had a clue on how difficult it was to enter the medicine faculty, but seeing your boyfriend giving up his whole summer just to bury his nose in those headache-bringers books made you feel sympathy for all the doctors.
The book in your hand had become boring five minutes before so you just closed it, letting it rest on your chest. You nudged Jay’s arm with your foot “I’m bored.” You let out a small sigh
He looked up from his study material and gave you a soft smile before reaching out to pat your ankle. "I know you're bored, baby. But I'm only an hour away from finishing this.” Jay gave you a reassuring smile
“After I’m done we could go outside and sail the small boat?” A couple of minutes of silence passed and he was ready to you making a fuss about how boring and dull studying was until you said “Or maybe I can help you with your studies?”
"You sure that you wouldn't mind helping me with my studies?" He replied, raising his eyebrows. He let go of your ankle, but he quickly pulled you by your knees while you were curled up on his bed and laid you on top of his lap instead, so now you were using his body as a mattress.
“I’m not as smart as you,” You murmured, snuggling comfortably on his chest as he placed the book in front of both your faces. The amount of latin and difficult words made you close your eyes right away “I’ll just flip the pages when you need.”
Jay let out a low chuckle and pressed a featherlight kiss on your head. It was a small team game, he tried to involve you in his studies, making you ask him some questions to know if he had said it right.
You felt a warm sense of pride in your chest to know that your boyfriend was working so hard for the sake of his dream. You flipped to a page that had a big skeleton drawing on it, beside it there was a man with all the muscles without skin.
You scrunched your nose at the amount of names all the bones and muscled had “You memorised all those names?”
“Not as easily as others do," He confessed, letting out an audible sigh as he caressed your head. "I find it easier when I explain the answers to someone who's willing to listen."
You looked up to his face, your eyes shining with endless love “I’m always willing.”
Jay gave you a sheepish smile, hooking one arm under your knee to intertwine both your legs together. He squeezed your hip in response and you two resumed studying together.
After around fifteen minutes, you started to become bored again. All those letters made your eyes feel heavy, you blinked them a few times “Are you done yet?”
He chuckled softly as he shook his head from side to side. "I still have to memorise more chapters," He sighed, looking up at you with an apologetic grin.
Despite his efforts, it was clear that he was having troubles memorising the contents of the page, and even he knew he was going to be up for quite a while more.
You caressed his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his body even under the white sleeveless shirt he was wearing.
You toyed the necklace you had given him for his fifteenth birthday in your fingers, the same jewel he had sworn to never take off “What are you studying now?”
He raised his eyebrows and looked down at you, smiling as he watched you play with the necklace. "Right now I'm studying about different body systems and conditions, the respiratory system." he said, looking back down at you
You laid your ear on his chest and he fell silent, you tried to hear his breath and commented with a forced funny voice “Your lungs function well.”
“I guess they do.” Jay chuckled, rubbing your back as he continued to study.
The room fell silent once again but your head was full of thoughts.
You started thinking about your future, you pictured yourself in different situations or workplaces but none of them seemed good enough. Or maybe it was you not good enough.
"You know, it's admirable that you already know what you want to be in the future..." You murmured, snuggling closer to him.
The corners of his lips spread into a small smile as he heard your compliment. "Is it admirable for someone my age?" He asked softly, brushing your hair out of your face
“Uh uh,” You hummed, flipping another page for him “I don’t know what I want to be,” You confessed quietly “I don’t see myself anywhere.”
Jay raised his eyebrows as he stopped studying for a long moment to give you his whole attention.
He then looked down at you and lifted your chin to face him. "Are you really unsure about what you want to be in the future?" He asked, his eyes searching for yours.
Your eyes met his deep brown once, and you shook your head, feeling vulnerable. “No, I don’t.” You sighed softly “My mother… My mother wants me to go to some sort of job counsellor.”
Jay let go of your chin to caress your back again “That’s a great idea, actually.” He encouraged, smiling gently. “I mean, it’s better to ask for help now than choosing something you don’t want to do… ain’t it?”
You hummed, dropping your head on his chest ��I guess so.” Your tone went quiet and he had been with you enough to know you didn’t want to discuss that topic anymore.
A few minutes passed by and your yawn caught Jay’s attention. He caressed your head, letting his hand run through your hair “You should get some sleep, Y/N.”
“And who’s gonna flip your pages?” You asked, your tone sleepy and your eyes clearly fighting to stay open
He chuckled, placing an incredibly soft feather-like kiss on your nose “I can flip them myself, you look like you’re going to pass out from your tiredness.”
“I guess I could.” You rested your head more comfortably on his chest and closed your eyes. “But when I wake up you better be done studying.”
Jay nodded “Alright baby.” He smiled, watching as you drifted off to sleep right there in his arms. At moments like that, he thought he was the luckiest man alive to have you— and he planned to never love you.
⪩⪨
College years had arrived and to no one’s surprise, you and Jay were still a couple. Seriously, you two loved each other too much to stay away from the other, even with your busy schedules.
You were laying on the lower bunk bed in his dorm. His roommates were out for dinner and left the whole house for you two. And obviously, what was Jay doing instead of spending time with you? Studying.
You acted like you didn’t really mind, flipping through the pages of a magazine. But seeing his back facing you, his hand moving as he was scribbling things on his notebook— you couldn’t help but feel sorrow.
“Are you going to study the whole night?” You asked quietly, not wanting to sound rude as you rolled on your wide to face him.
Jay raised his brows and finally turned around to look at you. His face was tired, pronounced dark circles under his eyes and he had probably skipped his self care routine for a few days. That didn’t make him less attractive, though.
“Pretty much,” He replied “I’m kind of behind on a lot of study materials.”
“Oh.” You nodded, shifting again to face the mattress of the other bed on top of Jay’s. He took in your bored expression and grimaced “You know you don’t have to stay here while I study, right?”
“But we don’t have time to spend together apart for some evenings,” You stated, looking back at him with a pout.
He chuckled softly, letting out a quiet sigh before closing his study materials and walking over to the bed. He climbed in beside you so he was under the covers with you. He then pulled you in and cuddled you tightly. "I know," He murmured, squeezing you a little tighter “I know baby.”
You rested your forehead on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don't want to disturb you.”
Jay laughed quietly as he kissed the top of your head. "You're not disturbing me in the slightest bit, so don't apologise,"
He said, running his hand through your hair gently. "I honestly don't mind having you beside me while I study." And you knew that, but sometimes you felt as if you were just an element of disturbance in his daily life.
It all started when you saw him fall into a deep slumber anytime he sneaked in your dorm, like he hadn’t closed eye for weeks; then how he’d always find a way to escape your dates to review a few materials and like now, when he’d study with only you in the room.
You knew he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just trying to survive college, and you felt guilty to have such resentment.
You looked up at him from his shoulder “I just… miss you nowadays.”
His eyes instantly softened "I miss you too.” He sighed “I know I’ve been studying a lot more lately, and I understand if you feel like I'm not spending enough time with you," He admitted.
“And I understand that you’re busy,” You acknowledged “You always work so hard for your degree.”
Jay smiled sadly and rubbed your arm up and down "I know I study like crazy, but it's because all of these things matter so much in the future.” He started explaining “It means that I'll be able to have a more secure job and..." he sighed again and paused before continuing “And i wouldn't have done this if I knew I couldn't spend time with you."
Your brows knitted “Don’t say that.” You raised your head so you could look into his eyes.
“You’ve been wanting to be a doctor since we were kids, Jay, And—“ Your voice cracked a little “I can’t guarantee we’ll be forever together, but you’ll always have a stable job with the degree you’re studying for.”
Jay nodded “I know that too…” He rubbed his temples, frustrated “I just wish I could spend more time with you.”
You smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek “It’s okay, when exams season is over we’ll go on a small vacation, sounds good?”
He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your body while pulling you closer towards him. "Sounds nice." he murmured, planting gentle kisses on your forehead “Although…”
You asked in a quiet voice "Although?" Jay looked away, “I still have a big exam coming up next month," He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know how well I’m going to do, honestly."
“Oh,” You gulped, blinking “And why do you think so?”
Jay gave you a half-smile "I Just feel like I'm not studying enough. The material i need to memorise.. It’s so much— I'm worried that I won't be able to remember most of it when the time comes."
You stayed silent for a few beats, trying to find any solution to help him “Maybe we should do a no-contract month?”
It took him a moment to process what you said "A no contact… month?" Jay repeated, looking away at the wall "Do you mean.. as in no contact with each other? For the entire month?"
You nodded slowly, not sounding sure of your own choice “So you don’t have any distraction and can concentrate on your classes?”
He raised his eyebrows, letting out a long and steady breath before speaking. "I understand it might help me with my studies, but.." Jay looked away from you again, unsure "Don't you think it's a bit too extreme?"
You fidgeted with the blanket, looking down “I know..”
“I mean... it seems pretty extreme." His fingertips then began to massage his temples. "You're right though, I do get pretty distracted when we're together, and my studies have been lacking because of that."
You tried to mask the pain you felt in your heart with a small smile “It’s just a month.”
Jay couldn't help but frown at the idea of not talking to you or seeing you for an entire month. "Yeah, but—" he started, but then suddenly realised. "Wait, does this no-contact month also mean that we can't meet either?"
“People usually do it after a break up, but we can do it just to focus on college. It’s like we’re off but we aren’t, we just don’t talk to each other for a month.” You exclaimed, nodding
He bit his bottom lip “We really can’t meet for a whole month? At all?”
“Baby, listen,” You caressed his cheek, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I don’t like this either, but it’s for the best?” You asked “I don’t want to get in your way.”
He sighed once again “You’ll never get in my way, never say that.” He then slowly nodded his head.
"I completely understand your point, but...it just feels way too bizarre.” His brows were furrowed. “I mean, we're used to talking every day, for us to stop talking for an entire month, it's just..." His words trailed off as he sighed and looked away.
You moved some hair away from his forehead “Just until your next exam.” You said “I’ll work my part time job, save some money and we’ll rent somewhere for a week, just us.”
Jay looked at you, worry painted all over his face “And you’re sure you’re completely okay with doing this?” You gulped down “No,” You whispered “But I’ll have to.”
He seemed to debate your suggestion, silence filling the room. After a couple of minutes, he caressed your cheek “Fine, I guess it's what's best for the both of us right now." He murmured.
“Just stay with me tonight,” You begged, “We’ll start tomorrow.”
His heart broke a little at your wobbling bottom lip “Let’s make the most of the night, my roommates will be back in early morning anyways.” Jay was still surprised you suggested that weird break, and he was even more stunned he had accepted.
You took his face in your hands, bringing him in for a kiss. “I love you.” You murmured on his lips.
Jay softly smiled against your mouth before he kissed you back, wrapping his arms tightly around your body as he started to pull you into him. His arms squeezed you more as he deepened the kiss a bit more, letting out a soft groan into your mouth. "I love you more.”
“No, I love you more.” You stated. He smirked and shifted position so he was now on top of you, resting his weight on his elbow not to crash you down “Bet?”
His hand cupped your cheek before slowly sliding down on your chest. You gasped since it was cold. “Jay… someone might hear us.”
“I don't care,” Jay shook his head, his tone breathless. His mouth claimed yours once again, full of unspoken but mutual feelings “Be mine for the night.”
“I’m always yours.” You said, letting him do anything he wanted, knowing you had made an oath to never leave his side.
⪩⪨
Finally, college had almost finished and it was the last day before university. Anyone would’ve been on cloud 9 but you felt a pang of sadness. It meant you and Jay had to part ways, the university he had chosen was in the big city, five hours away from your hometown.
You waited for him outside the graduation hall, seeing groups of overjoyed students throwing their hats in the air.
Jay came out of the room, rushing after having read your message. He wore his graduation gown and looked ever so perfect.
He saw you, a bright smile immediately appeared on his face as he started to walk to you.
He was incredibly nervous about leaving for college and it showed on his face as he approached you, but seeing you there made everything else seem a bit less threatening.
He finally reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "You came," he said softly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
You hugged his chest and whispered “How could I not?” Jay squeezed you back as he grinned, "I'm glad that you did, but I was already sure you would.”
He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek “You never miss a single big milestone of mine.”
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, doc.” You teased him with the nickname, but your teary eyes gave away your true feelings.
“This year has gone by so fast.” He murmured, caressing the back of your neck "And of course I’m stuck with you. I wouldn't have it any other way." His smile was so gentle it made you fall for him over and over again.
But the grin on his face disappeared as quickly as it appeared, making you frown “What’s wrong?”
Jay shook his head, “I’m just worried about us now since we'll have to do long distance."
Your lips trembled but you still managed to let your words out “We’ll be okay, right?”
His heart sank as he noticed your trembling lips. He gently squeezed you and gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Of course we'll be okay. If anyone's going to make long distance work, it's the both of us.”
Jay caressed your cheek with his thumb “I believe in us, and I’m going to come back as often as I can so we have time together. It'll be okay."
“Right,” You forced out a smile “We’ll make it work.”
“I’ll be back for summer, we can always go to the lake cottage,” Jay reassured, knowing you’ve always loved your summer trips to his holiday house
“And whenever we have a holiday—" He muttered, a small frown appearing on his face when he realised that you wouldn't be able to see each other as often as they used to.
You couldn’t hold it anymore and a few tears fell down your cheeks, you sniffled “Of course.”
His eyes widened when he noticed you were crying "Hey... hey, hey, hey," He murmured softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Don't cry right now, everything's going to be okay, mh?”
“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, smiling with sad eyes “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Jay’s face contorted into a painful expression, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.
He had always hated seeing you crying, but knowing that he was the reason behind your tears made his stomach close. “You know that I'm going to miss you just as much as you'll miss me once we're long distance, right?" He asked.
You chuckled and nodded, sniffling once again “I’ll be here waiting for you, Jay.”
"I'll be back for you every chance I get," He promised, squeezing you a bit tightly.
"Remember to keep in touch constantly, alright? No matter how busy we are, let's always make time for each other over the phone." Jay took out his phone from the pocket. “I bought this new Nokia only for you.”
You smiled widely and showed him your phone, a Nokia of the same type just in a pinkish colour “I bought this for you too.”
Jay pulled your face close to his chest, caressing your head and hair in a gentle manner, just like he always did.
He never failed to make you fall for him with every small action, treating you as if you were worth it. And to him, you were worth every fight, every difficulty coming with relationships. He’d endure it all just to be with you.
“I’m sorry,” You took a deep breath, trying not to let your voice shake. “I didn’t even congratulate you.” You smiled widely, “I’m so proud of you, baby. I really am.”
Jay hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear that until he did.
“Thank you. Seriously, thank you, for always being by my side.” He placed a featherlight kiss on your forehead "You know, since it was your graduation today as well... Maybe I should give you a graduation present.” He trailed off “I actually have a surprise for you, if you would like it."
Your brows shot up in surprise “You do?” Jay nodded and motioned you to wait.
He battled a little with his gown before retrieving a tiny velvet box from the pocket “Here you go, baby.” Your eyes scanned it, “What is it?”
Jay bit his bottom lip to hide his smile “Open it.” He held it out for you to take. You gave him a small stare before opening the small box, revealing two couple rings.
Inside there was also a note that said ‘One day you'll get the wedding ones.’ Your breath hitched.
He smirked as he watched the expression on your face change, becoming incredibly surprised and even a bit teary-eyed as you opened the box.
His eyes softened as he glanced down at the rings “I know they're not the actual wedding bands and it'll take a while until we get to that point... but I wanted to give you these as a symbolic gesture of me promising that we'll be married someday."
You mumbled nonsense for a few seconds, happy tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt overwhelmed by his sudden actions “I love them, I love them so much— I love you.” You blurted out.
Jay held you against his chest as you both embraced each other. "I love you too," He whispered, burying his head into your hair. "I love you so much."
“Oh lord,” You stumbled a little back to look at the rings once again “How much did you pay— They look so precious.”
“Don’t mind that,” Jay wiped the remaining tear stains “You’re worth it, so very worth it.” He tucked your hair behind your ear “And you’re right, they’re precious. Like you.”
You rolled your eyes and hid your face in the crook of his neck “You’re so romantic.” Jay planted a small kiss on your head “You like it when I’m romantic.”
You stayed like that for a few more minutes, just melting into each other’s embrace.
You then sniffled and took one ring out of the small box “Doc, would you mind giving me your right hand?” He chuckled and held his hand out for you “Not at all.”
Jay smiled back as he let you place the ring on his finger, his heart instantly warming up when he realised how real this all really is.
He was finally going to be able to say that he was officially engaged, that he was soon going to be married to you. Jay looked down at the ring as you finished and his eyes started to tear up a bit.
"Thanks," his voice barely came out of his throat, but he was still able to softly smile.
You then gave him the small box and held out your hand for him. He gently squeezed your hand “Shall i?" He asked as he motioned towards your finger, wanting to put the other ring on it.
“Please, do.” You whispered, the anticipation killing you.
Jay carefully took out the ring and looked it over for a couple of seconds.
He then slipped the ring on your finger very slowly, making sure that it was fitted well “It fits perfectly.” He commented, kissing your knuckles, barely brushing his lips on them, like a true gentleman.
You sniffled again and let out a euphoric chuckle before wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your lips on his, never wanting to get away from that boy.
The moment you kissed him, his arms tightened around you, not wanting to let go of you ever again.
He had never felt this way before until you came into his life, back in third grade. He had truly felt complete, that he had finally found the person he would spend the rest of his life with. “I want you always," he mumbled softly between the kisses.
“I want you forever,” You murmured back with the same sincerity. He kissed your lips once more, needing to fill his nostrils with your sweet scent, his mouth with the taste of you before he had to move away for five years.
⪩⪨
A couple of years passed and between ups and downs, you and Jay were still strong. Long distance was difficult, you couldn’t lie, but keeping yourself busy with your small café and meeting whenever you two had free time was enough for you. Besides, you could still call with your matching Nokias.
Which was your plan for that afternoon, you sat down on a table at your café and dialled his number, mindlessly playing with the ring on your finger as you waited for him to pick up, hoping it wouldn’t go to voice mails.
One the call reached Jay, he smiled as he recognized your number on screen, picking it up immediately. It had been some time since you both had called each other, so hearing your voice brought a smile to his face before he opened his mouth and greeted you. "Hi, babe.”
“Hey,” You whispered, relief evident in your tone “Am I calling in a bad moment?” You asked, hearing chatterings from the other line.
“No, no, not at all.” He sat down on a bench outside his university building “What are you doing? Just working?”
“Yeah,” You sighed “But business hasn’t been going well nowadays.”
His heart instantly sank as he heard about how business hadn't been well. He wanted to be your support system always, even when he wasn't there physically as much as before. “Oh no… I mean, you're doing your best with it, right?"
“I guess I am.” You replied "No, you are." He quickly corrected you “Do you want me to come over so that we can talk about it? We can work on solutions or at least brainstorm."
You were quick to dismiss “No, don’t do five hours of train just for a small complaint of mine.”
Jay tried to recall in mind his schedules, he had finished lectures for that day, which meant he could come to you and then take the late evening train back to the city “Baby… Don’t tell me not to come over if you need me there.”
"I’m serious, Jay, it's okay," You murmured quietly "I just needed to hear your voice, if you have free time you should use it to rest."
The way that you cared for him made his heart beat fast. "I'll gladly come over," He said softly. "I have time to spare. plus.. if I come over, I can actually hug you and comfort you better than over the phone, can’t I?"
“You already came over three weeks ago.” You stated “I know, but like I said, I’d rather spend time with you than not.”
You dismissed him once again “I’m fine Jay, you don’t have to.”
“Babe, don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not.” Jay pleaded “I don’t think you are, let me come over.”
You stayed silent a few beats “What about uni?” He knew you’d ask “I finished classes for today, I can come over for a few hours and then come back before classes tomorrow.”
You sighed, your voice cracking a little “I could really use one of your hugs.”
“Okay,” Jay breathed out “I’ll be there, wait for me at your café.”
Hating that he couldn’t teleport right to you, he hurried to the train station and waited, knowing you were going through a rough path.
You hardly ever asked for help, and Jay was sure whatever was going on had been haunting you for a while for you to call him in such a state.
After a few hours, the door of your café opened, making the small bell ring. You turned around and started saying “Welcom—“ When you realised it was your boyfriend.
Jay entered the cafe, his eyes instantly searched for you and his face lit up when he found you. It wasn’t hard, you were the only one there.
You were running towards him and he felt his whole heart melting. His arms were wide open and he smiled warmly, taking you into a warm embrace.
Jay immediately pulled you close to his chest, burying his head in your hair and breathing you in.
It had been three weeks since he last was at your side and the scent you had filled his lungs as he finally was this close to you again took him aback by how familiar and comforting it was.
You sobbed quietly, letting out all the tears you’d been holding as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, smelling the familiar scent of lavender of his clothes softener.
Your whole body quivering almost uncontrollably, and he knew you were hiding so much sadness behind those tears. “Shhh... shhh.. It'll be okay," He hissed softly, his voice calm and soothing as he kept whispering those same words to you over and over again.
You pulled away slightly, your whole face contorted in a frown “They want— They want to shut it down.”
Your sentence lacked context but he realised that your cafe was probably going to be closed down soon.
He didn't want your business to close, especially when he knew that it was your pride and joy. He pulled you back into his chest again, “It'll be okay. We'll figure something out.”
“It won’t!” You snapped, your voice breaking “It never does…”
Jay’s heart hurt even more as you shouted, your voice sounding so defeated and sad.
He didn't like the harsh reality you were facing and the fact that you would be going through this— Jay was supposed to protect you from the world, but he had neglected you for too long.
“Oh God—“ You blinked faintly, realisation hitting you “I didn’t know why I shouted, I’m sorry.”
The corner of his lips turned upwards briefly. "Hey, don't apologise for showing emotions." He gently dried your tears "It’s just... so frustrating to hear how you're losing something that you care about, that you've put so much effort in and that you're so passionate about."
You let out a bitter chuckle “It always goes this way.” Jay wanted to scold you for always thinking so low of yourself and never fighting, but he was in no position for that.
“I don’t know what to do,” You shook your head to emphasise your words “If it shuts down how will I pay the rent? I won’t have any money.”
Jay could feel you panic and didn’t want that stress and worry to get to you. "We'll figure something out," He said as he gently cupped your face and lifted it up so that you were staring at him. "We'll figure something out. You're not going to be in this alone, I promise."
You shook your head once more, sobbing “I’ll have to move back with my parents— we’ll be even further away.”
The possibility of you moving into your parents' home still made him feel sick. He wanted to keep you close to him and wanted to share a home with you.
He wanted to move in with you, not have you move back to your parents' house.
"Y/N, it's not going to come to that," He muttered softly, kissing your forehead. You sighed and let yourself go, your weight pressing on him “I’m just so tired.”
“Let me take some of that weight off you, baby,” Jay whispered “I’m here.”
You stayed silent a few beats, letting the mere presence of Jay put back the shattered pieces of your soul. “You just had five hours of train and all I did was complain.” You dried your tears with your thumb.
You showed him a faint smile “Sit, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.” He nodded and walked to the nearest table, sitting down.
You made him a cup of coffee and sat down on the chair opposite to him, smiling “It's on the house.”
He grinned softly as he took the cup, the smell of the coffee filling him with delight.
It was such a simple thing and yet it meant so much to him, given you made it. "Oh, so even though you're in a rough patch, your hospitality has not gone," he teased playfully before taking a sip.
“Call it boyfriend pass.” You winked at him. You then cleared your throat and fidgeted with the ring “How’s uni?”
Jay took another sip “Just uni, lectures… assignments here and there, many exams.” He trailed off “Just very busy.”
Your brows knitted in guilt “I’m so sorry you had to come here.” Jay took your hand in his, your rings tingling as they touched “You needed me, You needed comfort." He chuckled lightly. "And there's nowhere else I should have been other than here."
You answered with a smile and took your chair, scooting close to him. You put your head on his shoulder “Want me to stroke your hair for a bit?” He asked and you nodded “Please.”
Jay started stroking your hair, sipping the coffee with the other “How do you feel right now? Better?”
You chuckled “Less like a wreck.” A few minutes of silence followed until Jay asked “Are you scared of losing the café?”
"I feel like all the efforts I made weren't enough." You closed your eyes "I should've settled for a more stable job."
"But that would've made you so unhappy, you know?" he spoke softly. "Baby, I feel your enthusiasm every time you talk about your café, don’t regret something that made you happy.”
“What about you?" You raised my head and rested your chin on his shoulder to look at his face "Do you ever get so tired of studying you want to quit?"
"Sometimes," Jay admitted. “There were plenty of all night studying sessions that kept me up and made me question how I got to this point in life." He laughed, nudging your side playfully.
"But I would've never thought of quitting. I know it's going to pay off in the end." You hummed “Of course, You always work so hard.”
"And so do you," He whispered softly, squeezing your hand gently. "Sometimes I don't understand how you work at your cafe for so long and still have energy left to do other things... and sometimes I'm just worried about you overworking."
“You don’t push yourself too much right?” He asked, his voice laced with worry. Your sudden silence made him wonder if you were not telling him something.
“I fainted once.” You confessed. His grip tightened around your hand as he looked down at you, “You fainted? When? Why didn't you tell me about it?"
“Before Christmas break.” You whispered “It was exam season, I didn't want to distract you.”
It was in moments like those that Jay felt like giving everything up. Because why on earth would you think you were being a burden, a distraction to him when you literally fainted?
"No, no... you should have told me, even if I was busy. I would've come to you then." You sat up properly “I didn’t want you to.”
He was speechless for a minute, his mind trying to process what had happened. "Why wouldn't you want me to know? How could you go through it on your own?”
"Jay, Jay," You said, taking his face in my hands. "I'm grand, alright? I'm doing fine."
"I don't like that you hid something so serious from me," Jay muttered softly, his eyes meeting yours. "It's too important to hide from me."
“I know,” You nodded, letting go of his face “And I’m sorry.” Jay nodded at your apology “How did it happen?”
You sighed “I couldn’t afford to keep other workers so I had to run the café alone, I ran around and around and then I had a few other things.” You gulped down, recalling the moment “I went to bed feeling a little dizzy, I paid it no mind but the next morning as I woke up I fell flat on the floor.”
Jay’s whole world shuttered. He looked down to the floor, his jaw tense as he took in your words “You should’ve never ignored those signs, Y/N.” He called you by your name only when he was serious, his low voice sounding a little scary
“How could you—“ Jay took a sigh, trying to calm down “It could’ve been worse, something could have happened while you slept, you could’ve hit your head..” He looked as if he was on the verge of tears.
“Jay..” You murmured “I’m okay now, I know the risks I took, I was incoherent.” You took his hand in yours “It won’t happen again.”
“I should just transfer back here.” He got up from the chair, pacing around the room “I can take the train everyday to the city, I can do that, yeah.”
“No.” You stopped him “Jay, no.”
“Yes,” He turned around, facing you. His breath was heavy “Y/N, you— you could’ve died.”
“I didn’t.” You tried to soothe but even you felt like your efforts were worthless. “That doesn’t change the fact that I almost lost you— and I wasn’t even aware!” Jay looked like a maniac, his hands in his hair and his eyes bloodshot from frustration.
There was a moment where you both just stared into each other’s eyes, no words exchanged. Your eyes were full of regrets for having kept that from him and his were filled with the same emotion for not having taken care of you the way he should’ve.
“Don’t give up now, not for me.” You shook your head, slowly walking closer to him until you touched his forearm with your fingers, letting him know you were there. Breathing.
“You’re worth it.” Jay breathed out the same words he’d been repeating you, looking down at you, studying out features. His glance was so soft it almost hurt “Not this.” You shook your head.
Jay pulled you into a hug, so tight and full of emotions “Just three more years and we’ll be together.” He murmured “Just a little bit longer and we'll be able to share an apartment together. Just you and me."
You smiled on his chest, hugging him back “And we’ll get married.”
His entire face lit up with glee whenever you mentioned the idea of marriage, his finger swirled around the ring on your finger. “And we'll get married," He whispered softly, his eyes still focused on yours. "We'll finally be married and our families will finally stop asking us about our wedding plans," He laughed, the previous tension already forgotten
“Don’t even get started.” You laughed as well
"Yeah, for me it's my mom constantly bothering me with 'so when is it going to happen?'" He paused for a moment and cocked his head to the side playfully. "And for you? Is it your dad that's constantly bringing up the topic?"
You smiled and nodded “He’s afraid he’s going to die before he can walk me on the aisle.”
“That’s just a better incentive to wife you up.” Jay held your arms in his hands, gently rubbing them. You looked up at him and couldn’t help but cup his face, bringing your lips to him once more.
Jay’s eyes lit up the moment you kissed him. He let out a soft murmur, his lips responding to your kiss softly.
“I missed you,” You murmured between kisses “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” Jay responded, his lips travelling to the back of your head, tilting it to deepen the kiss “Only three years and you’ll be mine forever.”
“I think I’ve always been yours.”
⪩⪨
Another year had passed and New Year’s Eve came. A bummer that Jay could not come back to you those holidays because he had found a job to maintain his studies and was simultaneously studying for an extra course. After the small fight you had at the café (that shut down not long after) you two grew closer, if it was even possible.
Despite the long distance, you felt so connected to him. You dialled his number, feeling as you waited for him to answer.
Your phone beeped a bit before hearing his familiar tone on the other end. "Hey babe," His voice was as bright as ever “Did you miss me?"
“Hi,” You breathed out, sniffling due to the cold temperatures “I don’t miss you at all.” You teased
Jay’s brows furrowed slightly as he heard you sniffle. "Hey, are you okay? Are you sick?" He asked instantly with concern, ignoring your playful joke and wanting to make sure you were alright.
"I'm outside!" You explained happily, looking around at all the people inside the main square "Fireworks are nicer if you see them from here."
He let out a sigh of relief when he heard that. “Good. you gave me a bit of a scare there, babe. Are you enjoying yourself?” As expected, the soon-to-be doctor always worried for nothing.
“No, there are so many couples here," You joked "My boyfriend is so evil he didn’t even come to me."
Jay chuckled softly "Oh yeah? Just wait until I'm there. I'll make all those couples in the whole square jealous." He groaned, "Ugh, I can't believe I'm missing being with my girlfriend when we should be spending the new year together."
"I understand," Yoh reassured, looking up at the huge clock ticking close to the new year, a feeling of both nostalgia and excitement washing through you. "What are you doing now? Don’t tell me you’re studying".
“Well... you guessed it," He admitted softly, “...Studying. I have a final exam for my extra course coming up soon."
“No, Jay.” You said sadly “Not now.” His brows furrowed at your sudden change of tone and he asked “What’s wrong?”
You sighed “Can you drop your pen and walk to the window?”
Jay was caught off guard by the unexpected request. Though he had no reason to resist you, he set his pen and his open study books aside and stood up. He walked to his window.
"Three more minutes before the new year," You murmured "Look at the fireworks with me, the sky is only one so it makes me feel closer to you."
His eyes immediately turned to the outside, looking at the fireworks and the sky that was lit up by so many bright colors. It was breathtaking, and his eyes took it all in as he stood in the window, watching the sky as the time slowly ticked towards the new year.
He could almost imagine you right next to him, both of you watching the beautiful display together. "Yes," He whispered, “I can almost feel you right next to me."
“One more minute!” You squealed happily, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend.
Everyone started laughing and screaming, clapping their hands as the clock struck midnight, the sky lit up with more fireworks “Happy New Year, baby.” You told Jay and he said back the same words.
“Just one year and half until our big plan.” You stated, looking down at your ring.
“Just one year and half…” He repeated, a small smile displayed on his face
“We’ll be alright… Won’t we?” You asked, your voice quiet, barely audible with all the external noise. But Jay still heard you, he always did.
The question you asked was so simple, but it carried a lot of weight to it. "Yeah. We'll be okay, babe." His soft voice assured you of that. "Of course we will. We have always managed to find ways to deal with distance... we'll be fine."
You looked around and saw couples kissing and holding hands, spending that special time together. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you stepped away from the square and back on the way to your apartment "Can you stay on the phone a little longer? Until I get home..."
“Of course baby,” Jay reassured, playing with the necklace he always wore. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need me.”
You started walking, your nose red and cheeks hurting from the cold weather “It’s so cold nowadays.” You commented.
"Hey... you're okay, right? Are you sure you'll be alright making your way home alone? Are you wearing enough layers?” Jay asked softly, his tone of concern obvious.
You chuckled at his words “Don’t act like my mother.”
He laughed along with you. "Sorry... I just— worry too much about you sometimes. you know?”
You nodded though he could not see you. “I know, but I'm grand here.” You hummed “I’m an independent woman.”
“That may be true,” Jay stated, his whole face shining from the light of the fireworks “But your boyfriend here is worried about your health, especially in this cold weather.”
"I’m about to reach home and then i'll take a warm shower and go to sleep," You murmured, placing your free hand in your pocket "You don't study until late night, ok?"
"Well..." His voice was playful "No promises, a man's got to get good grades.” But your tone wasn’t “Please Jay… At least not today.”
“Okay, alright.” He knew you were just worried for him the same way he was for you “I’ll stop studying for tonight.”
“Promise?” You asked, “Promise.” He answered.
“Then, after you take a shower, can you stay on the phone for a while?” Jay’s voice was laced with vulnerability, the long distance taking a ton on him as well.
Your voice softened at his words “Of course baby,” You whispered “I’ll stay with you on the phone.”
“Hey, Y/N.” Jay murmured “Yes?” You said, fiddling with the keys.
“I love you.” You stopped moving for a moment, “I love you more.”
⪩⪨
Years passed by and vows were exchanged, Jay and you now happily lived together.
You still remembered that day when you got him at the train station, feeling all giddy to finally have the life you’ve always dreamt of with the only person you’ve ever loved.
You thought all your vicissitudes were over, that your many many years of patience had finally paid off— but no, because Jay’s traineeship was taking your place yet again.
Despite the fact that your apartment that once looked lifeless was now hosting a couple, it seemed as if it had lost its previous colours with your gloomy demeanour.
Jay spent all his day at the hospital, learning new things and trying to build a good relationship with his superiors.
And it’s not like you weren’t happy for him— No, you were overjoyed… but what about you?
Since you two became a couple, it felt as if you had spent all your life waiting for him, waiting for the life you two had promised to build together, but the only effort came from you. And now that you were married, the crack in your heart started to become a chasm.
Everything went downhill when, one day, you woke up yet again to an empty bed, the wrinkled sheets the only proof they Jay had spent the night there. He came back late and got out in the early morning— an endless circle that maybe he was used to when he was still a student.
But now Jay was your husband and you seeked all the things any wife wished for. Just some quality time would have been enough.
You got up from the bed and held your breath when you heard a noise coming from the living room. Quietly, you tiptoed to the bedroom door, peeking from the glimmer of the half-closed door.
A rather messed up Jay stomped around the house, in search of something. You got out of the door and walked inside the living room “Jay?” You asked
Without even greeting you, he just said “Where’s my spare gown?”
You blinked faintly, your mind still a little empty from sleeping “I don’t know.” Jay let out a deep groan “I told you to wash it the other day.”
“I still need to hang it with the laundry.” You replied, now remembering “You know I need it to work, Y/N.” His voice was low
“The other one?” You asked “Dirty,” He just mumbled, fumbling with some shirts “Hey! I had folded them neatly.”
“Fold them again.” Jay just answered “I need my gown, we have an important meeting today with the head doctors.”
“It’s dirty,” You stated “Just ask one of your colleagues to lend you one.”
“There’s my name on the gown.” He stopped and dropped the clothes on the floor. “I can’t talk to them while wearing someone else’s name.”
“Just cover it.” Jay rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, “I’m trying to help you.” You said, noticing his distressed behaviour.
“Well, you’re not.” He tsked, making you open your mouth in disbelief. Jay looked at you, raising a brow “What?”
“What?” You asked back with a frown “You just disrespect me and the work I do in our house and you ask ‘What’?” Your voice was dangerously low.
He gulped, glancing down at the discarded ironed clothes on the floor. He picked them up and placed them on the chair once again “Here.”
You let out a sigh and looked away. “Just take your dirty gown and go to your meeting.” You said harshly.
Jay ran a hand through his hair, frustrated “Listen Y/N— I didn’t mean to be so rude.” You still refused to meet his gaze.
“Please, love. Don’t get mad now.” He walked a step closer to you but you just backed away, making him frown “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” You muttered, your eyes full of hurt now locking with his dark ones. His breath hitched as he took in your pained expression.
“W-Why?” He asked, genuinely confused, “If it’s because of this— I’m sorry, I’m just so stressed.”
“And I am tired.” You stated “I am tired of waking up to an empty bed and going to bed the same way, I am tired of spending all my holidays alone because of your work.”
You let out all the build frustration you had felt through the years “I am tired of waiting for you, Jay, when will all this end?”
Jay raised his hands to caress your arms but you stepped back again, not needing to break down now, but needing to set this straight.
“I know, I’ve been so busy lately.” You scoffed, “You’ve always been busy.”
“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, Jay.” Your tone was shaky, “I’ve always supported you, since we were kids and even more after we became a couple. But I feel like I missed the most beautiful years of my life because of you.”
His breath sagged “Don’t say that..”
“But it’s the truth.” You stated “I said more ‘I miss you’s than ‘I love you’s in this relationship.”
“I—“ Jay’s bottom lip wobbled. “I’m sorry..”
You sighed, shaking your head. You then glanced up to the clock “It’s already eight, you’ll be late to your meeting.”
You turned around and were about to walk into the bathroom when Jay’s big and strong hands wrapped around your waist “I love you, Y/N.” He said, almost desperately.
You tried your best not to let your tears fall “I know,” You whispered “But maybe you love your job more.” You shrugged away from his embrace and locked yourself in the bathroom.
Jay tried to open the door but you had already turned the key, he helplessly knocked on it “Y/N, please, let’s talk this out.”
As much as you wanted it, your whole body and mind was drained from the constant feeling of sorrow you said in a quiet voice “Just go away, Jay.”
Yeah, he wasn’t going to do that. “Please, come out, let’s talk.” He pleaded
But you just dismissed him once again “I don’t know the things I’d say if we talked now.”
Jay knew he had messed up, really bad this time, and he wanted to make it right. To make it up.
How could he be so obvious to your pain? How could he have not noticed?
You had all the right to be mad at him, in fact, he deserved the slaps you should’ve given him. He deserved your anger, your resentment.
He wasn’t in his right mind that morning— Truth is, he hadn’t been for quite some time.
Traineeship was so exhausting, coming from a whole adulthood of self sacrifice and sabotage, he thought he was the only one suffering. Turned out you were as affected by his actions as him, if not even more.
Jay was so lost in thought he hadn’t even realised he had been typing the same word countless times in the report of the previous meeting. As much as he tried not to think about it, his mind kept drifting back to you.
One of his colleagues noticed his gloomy demeanour and sat on the chair in front of Jay’s desk, tapping his fingers on it “Hey there.” He waved a hand in front of his face.
“Not now, Jake.” Jay groaned, resting his face on his hand, his cheek slightly crushed against his palm “I’m not in the mood.”
“Damn man,” The doctor with the heavy australian accent commented “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”
Jay took a deep sigh, shaking his head “No one, I just am an emeritus douchebag.” Jake raised a playful brow, “Tell me something I don’t know?”
But the death glare he received from the other party made him nod in acknowledgment “Troubles in heaven?”
Jay frowned “How’d you know?” And Jake just smirked in response “You’re so obvious.”
He then leaned his elbows on the desk ��Tell me everything.”
Jay tsked “Why should I?” And Jake clicked his tongue back “Dude, believe me, you’ll feel better after you confess your sins.”
“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” The Australian eyed him up and down “Is it not?”
Jay sighed heavily, running a hand on his face “I messed up really bad.”
He nodded, letting Jay know he was listening “Y/N… She’s the best thing that ever happened in my life,” He started “She is my first friend, my first love, my first kiss and time… It has always been her.” He smiled unconsciously.
“But I failed her, I think, I haven’t realised she’s been suffering in silence all these years.” Jay shook his head at himself.
“Does she regret your marriage?” Jay’s eyes widened at such a statement “God, I hope not.” But then he bit his bottom lip “I wouldn’t blame her if she did, though.”
Jake sighed “Listen man, I met Y/N only once or twice, but I see the way she looks at you.”
“How?” Jay asked “As if you were the only one in the whole world, and I mean it.”
“But maybe she doesn’t anymore,” Jay sighed softly “Maybe I lost her for real this time.”
Jake raised a brow, “You love her?” Jay looked at his colleague as if he had just offended him “I’ve always loved her and I always will.”
“Damn right!” Jake smirked, “Now, go tell her.” He shook his head, “I’m on duty.”
Jake sighed and turned the computer screen toward him, he opened a few types and typed on the keyboard and he turned towards him as well and then smiled victoriously “Not anymore.”
Jay glanced at the screen just to see his name had been replaced with Sim Jaeyun on the file with all the rounds “Why?”
Jake got up from the chair and patted his mate’s shoulder “Go get your wife back before it’s really too late.”
⪩⪨
“I’m coming home right now, I’m coming back to you and I’ll make sure you actually stay, both physically and mentally. I’m so sorry for everything baby, and I know this voice mail will probably find you in a desperate state and it breaks me to know I am the cause.” Sigh “I just hope you can forgive me, because I love you, definitely more than my job.”
You replayed Jay’s voice mail countless times, his voice breaking, clearly on the verge of tears. You sat down on the sofa, waiting anxiously for the front door to open, and when it did, you raised to your feet.
Jay rushed inside, almost stumbling as he took off his shoes and gown, discarding both of them on the floor. You both stared at each other, just taking in your presence “Hi.” You breathed out.
Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Jay’s arms wrapped around your body, your head pressed against his chest “Forgive me, love.” He whispered in your ear.
You pulled away, just enough to look inside his eyes “It’s okay—“ “It’s not.” He cut you out, “Don’t lie baby, not anymore.”
Jay’s deep, brown eyes were so sincere you felt your heart skip a few beats “I’ve been foolish, I didn’t realise your discontent for nine whole years. But I do now, I see all you sacrificed just to be with me. I see you.”
You smiled gently, looking up at him. He didn’t fail to notice the swelling and redness in your eyes “I see you too.” You whispered, placing one hand on his cheek.
“You saw me even before I saw myself.” Jay’s tone was gentle, he leaned on your palm “You never miss a single big milestone of mine.” He repeated the same words he said back during graduation day, the day he promised your hand. “I feel like I crashed your dreams, ruined your life.”
“No,” Your brows knitted “No, Jay, don’t ever say that again.” Sincerity filled your eyes “You are my dream.”
A tear fell down Jay’s eyes, a quiet sniffle escaping him. You brought his head down on your shoulders and gently patted his back “Why are you crying?”
“I thought I lost you again, because of my stupidity.” He shook his head, clinging onto your waist as if you were a lifeline.
You took his hand in yours and brought it on your chest “Do you feel it?” You asked. Jay raised his head and stared at you with teary eyes. He concentrated on the palm on your chest and felt your heart beating fast.
“That’s the effect you have on me.” Jay looked like a lost child at your words “Still?”
“Then, still, always.” You nodded your head, your lips curling into a soft smile “What happened this morning, to both of us, it was the anger speaking.”
Jay gently held your hand and brought it to his lips, his knuckles brushing on your ring finger. “I want to focus on you more, to make up for all those years we’ve lost because of my job.”
“Will you let me?” He asked, his head tilting to the side “Yes.” You breathed out
“I’ll take care of you,” He brought you closer by your hand, your chest flush against each other “I’ll spoil you rotten.” He brushed your hair away, his breath hitting your skin, making you shiver “My dear wife.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, murmuring on his lips “I want to have a baby, Jay.” His brows shot up in surprise “You do?”
“Yes,” You caressed the back of his neck. “I want to be the mother of your children.”
“Damn love,” Jay let out a shaky breath. “You can’t say things like that without bearing the consequences.”
You bit your bottom lip, bringing him down to you “I’m ready to bear them.”
Jay took you in his arms in a swift movement, carrying you over his shoulder and spanking your ass “To the bedroom.”
⪩⪨
“Hey, love.” Jay sat down beside you by the porch of the holiday lake house, placing a mug of iced tea on the table.
“Thank you.” You thanked, taking it in your hand with a groan “I really miss coffee.”
“I know,” He smiled gently, caressing the swelling of your belly “But caffeine isn’t good for the baby, is it?”
“Dad! Can I sail the boat?” Your eldest daughter asked, pointing at the boat near the shore of the lake “Fine, but be careful!” Jay shouted so she could hear and you both watched as she sailed the little box you used to sail as well during high school summer break.
You smiled, recalling the old memory, and Jay did the same, watching your face as if you were the best view of all.
“Do I have something on my face?” You asked, feeling a little self-conscious “Beauty.” He winked at you and you nudged his shoulder playfully.
His eyes fell down on your belly once again, a warm expression displayed on his face “Thank you so much, Y/N.”
You frowned at his sudden thankfulness “For what?”
“For everything,” His voice was full of sincerity “For this baby, for our other daughter, for being by my side.”
“And thank you for loving me.” Jay added, once again kissing your ring finger, this time his lips lingering a little longer on your knuckles.
“Oh, Jay.” You let out a shaky breath “That’s very effortless.”
Your eyes then fell down on the necklace, the same one you gifted him for his fifteenth birthday. Your fingers unconsciously reached for it as you began playing with it “You still wear it?”
“I’ll take it in the grave with me.”
[⪩⪨] END.
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