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heegyukeluv · 1 month ago

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complementary - the physics of your body [part 2] (sjy)

pairing: brother's best friend!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: Jake loved physics as much as he loved you.

my's note: part 2 is here earlier than expected because i'm anxious 😀

warnings: trauma from parents, fluff, angst, drama/arguments, more physics stuff lol, pet names (babe, doll, good girl…), reader blushing/turning red!, reader have a bit of an explosive demeanor, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (f.), squirting, jk cum inside, overstimulation (f.), bathtub sex. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 13k

NOT PROOFREAD.

part 1

Saying you cried all night would be an understatement. Having feelings for Jake now felt like a bittersweet ache, hard to swallow and to have close to you. You couldn’t help but get into a spiral of darker thoughts.

Was it worth it?

Jake was in your mind throughout the entire night.

When you woke up the next morning, your eyes felt like they weighed a ton, and your body craved a rest you knew you couldn’t give it – not anytime soon, at least. Both physically and mentally, you were utterly drained.

You had spent part of the night wide awake, crying and torn between two nearly impossible choices: breaking things off with Jake or fighting to keep him. It was a strange, bitter feeling that sat heavily in the pit of your stomach. It didn’t dissolve with the tears or the long hours – it only lingered, raw and unresolved.

Jay ignored you on Saturday. And again on Sunday. You ignored Jake on Saturday. And again on Sunday.

Jake assumed your sudden distance was due to your determined spirit, convinced you were throwing yourself into studying for your final exams. He didn’t want to disturb you and instead left sweet, encouraging messages to cheer you on without adding to your stress. But something in the way you responded – or rather, in the way you didn’t – planted a seed of doubt in his mind.

He called you and you dismissed.

The lump in your throat only heavening within each missed call and message left on read, realizing you could be hurting Jake as much as you were hurt.

You just didn’t know what to do, what to expect or where to run, because everything seemed wrong or difficult; Jay wasn’t there for you, and you couldn't reach Jake because he was the reason Jay wasn’t there for you.

Messy, confused, chaotic.

As the night settled quietly in your apartment, you opted not to leave your room. Your face swollen with heavy tears that spilled just like a waterfall.

But then a sudden outburst of words being spoken loudly in your living room got your ears perked, your heart speeding it beats, your stomach knotting in despair as you made your way towards the noise.

“Where is she?”

“You’ll not see her.”

After feeling something was off, his instincts screamed for him to take action, so Jake immediately sped his car all the way to your apartment. He had his mind racing, spinning even, a dreadful feeling creeping inside his chest while each possible scenario played out in his head. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for what he found when he finally landed his eyes on you.

Your figure appeared in the doorway the very moment Jake asked about you, almost as if his words had summoned you, drawing you in like an unshakable spell. Under different circumstances, it might have been beautiful, poetic even. But not now. Not like this.

“Y/N! Oh, my God," Jake exclaimed, his wide eyes filling with a mixture of relief and alarm. He expertly sidestepped Jay’s attempt to block him, his focus zeroed in on you as though nothing else mattered.

You flinched as he closed the space between you, your fists clenched at your sides, trembling slightly as you let him pull you into his arms. His hold was firm but not overbearing, like he was trying to shield you from a world you desperately wanted to escape.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with urgency, concern dripping from every word. Then, without waiting for an answer, his gaze darted to Jay, his tone sharpening into something far more dangerous. “What the fuck happened?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and crackling with tension. The room felt suffocating, the silence a cruel prelude to whatever would come next.

Your body gave up. Jake's scent enveloped you like a mist, soothing and soft, allowing you to be your most raw version – the one in desperate need of refuge. The painful sobs tore through you, your body shaking against Jake’s chest as he tightened his hold protectively, as though he could physically keep your pain away.

“You two happened.”

Jake stiffened as Jay’s words cut through the atmosphere, your entire body shuddering, a pang in your chest leaving you breathless for a second. Jake’s head snapped towards his best friend, panic underlying his voice as he feared the worst.

“What?”

Jay let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. “She’s my sister, Jake,” he could have stopped just at that, it would be enough to make Jake's terror increase significantly. But he didn’t, he made sure that his every word was loud and clear. “My little sister! Did you even think for one second before–” He stopped, gulping while a hand ran through his blonde strands, eyes never wavering. “Before hooking up with her? I know about your fucking casual relationships, Jake.”

Jake’s grip on you loosened just enough for him to take a step back, but his touch remained close, grounding. He opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it, your voice raw and trembling.

“It’s not just a casual–”

“Please, stop,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with fresh tears, fluttering close, and not really aiming for anyone in particular. “I can’t handle this right now.”

Jay’s expression faltered for a moment, realizing he might have gone too far. On the other hand, Jake looked at you, confused.

“Please, go.” You sniffed, unwillingly pushing Jake away from you. He stumbled on his feet a little, offering you the most lost, baffled puppy eyes. You wished you had kept your eyes closed, the pain in your chest growing heavier each passing moment. “I– I appreciate you for coming, but… But just go, please.”

Guilt. You felt the guilt slowly and painfully eating away at you. Guilt for hurting the one person who cared most about you. Guilt for letting things unfold the way they did. Guilt for liking – loving – Jake.

You were torn between confronting Jay, your only family that remained by your side to fight for Jake, and letting Jake go, as a way to go back to how it was before.

There was no possible choice, everything felt like a fresh, open wound and the argument only put pressure on it.

“Alright.” Jake whispered, his eyes lowering until they rested on the floor. “I’m going, because you’re asking me to,” he nodded to himself, quickly taking a glance at Jay over his shoulder before approaching you; the phantom of his touch lingering on your fingers as he let go of your hand. “But I’m not leaving you, Y/N. Not now that I finally have you.”

Jay had not spoken a word to you in a whole week.

He avoided the slightest interaction with you, going out of his way to ensure that your paths rarely crossed. Yet, every day, he still managed to prepare your full meals, leaving them meticulously arranged on the counter, as if to fulfill a silent duty. It was a strange contrast – his actions speaking of care, while his absence screamed louder than words ever could.

Jay would leave the house earlier than normal and return just in time to prevent having you under his line of sight, a perfectly calculated timing you wished to end soon.

The unspoken tension lingered in every corner of the house, a suffocating reminder of the fracture between you both.

He didn't strict your routine nor made you change your lifestyle, but it weighed just as hard. It somehow felt way worse than when your parents treated you back then, yelling harsh words alongside punishments to put you back on the line or regain control over your life.

Receiving the heaviness of your brother’s silence cut deeper than anything else, mainly because he was your only true family.

On the other hand, Jake was dealing with a double loss. It hurt to feel like losing his best friend, to watch his messages being ignored and having his calls go to voicemail, to be prohibited to step into his house under any circumstances.

But the idea of losing you definitely started to hurt way more.

In the middle of the week, you called him. Your voice was weak, almost fragile, and it made his heart squeeze in his chest.

“I aced my physics exam,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to thank you… for everything.”

“No way!” Jake exclaimed, his voice lighting up with a rush of pride and excitement as he hid himself in the company’s bathroom. A big smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the one he always wore when he was truly happy for you. You couldn’t see it, though. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you would beat that exam's ass.”

That small interaction somehow felt like a bullet had lodged in his chest and he couldn’t run to the hospital to resolve it. It was almost robotic, far from utterly genuine, because there was a thick smoke of tension that suffocated his senses, that reminded him you were slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. God, he was your boyfriend! Not a random.

You giggled at his choice of words, a sweet, genuine sound that had not been present in days. The sound of your happiness made his heart shrink, as if it was both breaking and expanding at the same time. He wanted to hear more of it, wanted to make it last forever. The warmth in his chest turned into a wave of determination.

“Thanks to you, Jake,” you whispered, the words soft but carrying the weight of everything unspoken.

And without missing a beat, Jake was already planning his next move. “That’s it. I’m coming to pick you up.”

The certainty in his voice was unwavering. You tried to argue, to refuse, to come up with something to stop him, but he wasn’t having it.

“Your work–”

“I can leave early.”

“But it’s far–”

“I don’t care.”

He was already thinking of you and you only – of the way you deserved to be celebrated, of how he just wanted to hold you close, to kiss you. He missed you so fucking much it hurt, it painfully hurt.

“I’m picking you up,” he repeated, this time softer but no less sure.

“But–”

“Don’t even try to argue.”

You could hear him smiling through the phone, and it made your heart ache. Why did this feel so wrong, and yet so right at the same time?

“Wait for me, my angel. I’m on my way,” he finished, his words like a promise.

You felt your heart race, even if a part of you wanted to protest, to tell him that he didn’t need to go. But at that moment, you didn’t have the strength to stop him, so you waited. You waited for the man of your life.

Ever since, Jake began picking you up from your classes every single day. He would have his lunch with you and video call you during the night, singing a sweet lullaby until you fell asleep. He bought you a cake and kissed you deeply to celebrate your achievement, once again voicing out how proud he was.

You needed support, you needed someone that had your back, and Jake was your boyfriend, the one who should be giving you the comfort you deserved.

It was unbearable to watch you withering quietly and not having much to do other than offer some hugs and kisses, other than have his hands on yours, other than his caresses on your hair.

However, as soon as you started to lit up again with your jokes and smiles, Jake realized it was worth it. His efforts were worth it, and he would keep doing a million things, a million times over, if it meant seeing you happy.

But there were days when you slipped back into the overwhelming sadness, due the silent reminder from Jay that his treatment of you had not changed – and maybe never would.

You couldn’t help but believe he felt betrayed, and you didn’t have the strength or courage to change his perception.

Deep down, you knew yourself well enough to understand that any confrontation would be ugly – because, beyond sadness, you also carried the weight of a quiet, lingering anger.

“He just needs time,” Jake said, offering you the same reassurance every damn day.

Two weeks have passed since Jay discovered your relationship with his best friend, but it felt like ages, painful ages, days that you had to drag yourself through it, finding perseverance in the depths of your soul to keep going, keep pushing through it.

And you don’t think you would be able to do it if it wasn't for Jake.

He was now hugging you, one hand kindly caressing your back, the other firmly holding yours. You had curled up against him in the car, your body trembling as you sobbed into his chest, trying to calm yourself by hearing his gentle breathing.

The sound of your sobs broke his heart. He knew you didn’t want to cry, but he also knew there was nothing he could say or do to make it stop. All he could do was hold you, let you pour out your emotions, and be there for you.

“I don't even know why I'm crying right now,” you said with a broken voice, burying your face deeper on the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s okay,” Jake whispered softly, his voice low, the kind of soothing tone he knew you wanted to hear. “You don’t have to know. Just let go, my love.” And so you did. The pain, the confusion, the despair, the anger, everything weighing on you felt too much to bear, flowing away through your wrenching tears. “I don’t know what to do, Jake,” you mumbled between sobs, your voice shaky, “I never thought he’d be like this… It’s been so long. I never thought I’d lose him.” Jake’s grip on you tightened. He understood the intensity of your pain; he could see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch, in your words. He never felt this way before, like lingering on a thin string of losing his mind, feeling so, so useless. Jake wished he could erase all your pain and sorrow, or at least transfer it to him.

On that very day, Jake made a quiet promise of never, ever, breaking your heart.

“You won’t lose him,” he said gently, nuzzling his chin on the top of your head, the shampoo scent calming his nerves a little. He hoped to give you the same comfort. “You just need to give him time. He’ll come around, I know it.”

You let out a deep, fragile sigh, your shoulders trembling as you struggled to stop the tears streaming freely from your eyes, sobs echoing through the car softly as you stained Jake’s shirt. He seemed not to care, arms around you as though he could shield you from the gloom that slowly and painfully swallowed you, as though he could maintain you with him, forever.

Jake held you as close as possible, as reassuring as possible, as grounding as possible; a comforting, sweet, gentle cocoon anchoring you, as his hands drew subtle circles on your back.

With a mild push, you pulled away from Jake embrace just enough to murmur, voice raw, shaking.

“Sorry, I dampened your shirt.”

“I love you.”

Jake said, nearly at the same time.

On that very day, Jake made a loud promise of loving you unconditionally forever.

The words tumbled out of his mouth, soft yet firm, as though they had been sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the right moment. His voice carried a certainty that cut through the fog of your sorrow, the three words echoing louder than your sobs ever could.

You peered up with your glossy eyes, shooting Jake a flabbergasted glance that replaced your broken expression. His chest tightened, his heart nearly shattering at the sight of you, so brittle, so vulnerable, so utterly… destroyed.

Jake wanted to do more than just hold you. He wanted to wrap you in the warmest, coziest blanket and protect you from the world and all the pain it had inflicted. He wanted to whisper reassurances until his voice gave out, to erase every tear from your cheeks with gentle kisses, to love you so deeply that you would never feel this hollow again.

He wanted to shower you with love.

The same love he was sure he nurtured for you. The same love that had been haunting his entire being to voice out, suffocating, desperate to be born into the world you both shared. The same love he discovered he loved to feel.

Jake loved to love you, because you made it easy to.

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your brows furrowing slightly.

“I love you. I don't know what to do in this situation, but I know I love you. And I think you should know too.”

You hesitated, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while no words came out, because you had nothing that equaled the sudden sweet burning sensation that spread inside your chest as you heard those pretty words.

Love.

You didn’t remember loving someone as much as you loved Jake.

Over the past few days, Jake had made it increasingly difficult for your love to remain a mere whisper in the depths of your mind. He had proven himself deserving of your affection, your care, your attention – because he gave just as much, if not more, in return. He had broken through the protective barriers of your heart, the ones that kept strangers away; except Jake wasn’t a stranger anymore. Perhaps, deep down, he never was.

Beyond the chaos within you, the silent, yet deafening conflict of your situation with Jay, Jake had stirred a yearning inside you – a desperate urge to scream to the world that he was the love of your life.

It was an uncontrollable desire to say it out loud, to tell him you loved him the way a painter loves their muse, the way a musician treasures their draft, the way a photographer cherishes their landscapes.

It was a love that was raw, sincere, genuine – achingly so. And it was a love you were happy to know it was mutual.

Jake was the most gorgeous star, brightening your profoundly clouded sky.

“Jake–” You finally managed to speak, not exactly aiming for anything other than just… Say something. But Jake interrupted you with a kiss.

“You don't have to say it back.” He murmured, lips grazing on yours as he cupped your cheeks, gentle eyes tracing the lines of your mildly swollen face. You still looked stunning. He couldn’t help but sigh, a mix of adoration and longing in his gaze. “I know I caught you off guard. I'm not asking you to love me back right away.” He tilted his head, his eyes filled with an undeniable tenderness – love, devotion, and the kind of affection that made your heart ache. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, like he was fighting to keep it there. "Just know that I, Jaeyun, love you."

You bit your lower lip, but it didn’t do much to contain your wide grin. The tears, once drenched in sorrow, now filled with uncontrollable happiness, exploding in your chest just like fireworks. With a fear of missing the time, you shook your head still in disbelief, leaning in closer as you whispered.

“I love you too, Jake.”

And just like that, Jake had his lips working on your mouth deliberately, distant from what you normally did together. It seemed he wanted to take his time, heartfeltly exploring and appreciating the attachment of your lips together, as though he was memorizing the taste of you. And it was definitely different.

It tasted like love.

Your tongues swirled in a beautiful languid dance, a rhythm only you two could follow, the kind of connection that felt natural and right, like two halves of a whole, complementary.

Jake’s hands slid down to your nape and waist, pulling you closer, guiding you to sit on his lap where you could feel his warmth radiating into you.

There was no rush, no urgency. There was only raw, honest love between you two – pure and untainted. No distractions. No lust. Just the quiet, steady beat of two hearts that had found each other in a world full of noise.

Jake loved you. You loved Jake. And right at that moment, that was all that mattered.

The car engine sound soothed the silence with a steady hum. The radio played some random song you didn’t bother to pay attention to, not when your head was wandering amidst the chaos happening there.

Your life was a complete mess and your anxiety bubbling up, not knowing exactly what to expect from that weekend trip.

Yeah, trip.

Just two days ago, Sunghoon showed up at your doorstep holding bags of your favorite food and wearing a pitiful face. You didn’t understand the sudden hug, much less the following waterfall of “I’m sorry’s” he mumbled with a broken voice against your hair while pulling you closer.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about you and Jake.”

You remember his words vividly, your confused state, your hands now knowing what to do or your brain not fully processing what he just said, because no one actually knew about you and Jake. But your memory made sure not to erase the following addon.

“I unintentionally snitched on you and him.”

Sunghoon stayed the whole night on the verge of crying – and you never saw that man with anything near to glossy eyes, so it seemed to be a real business for him – explaining what happened that night and how Jay found out about your hidden romance with his best friend.

His drunk ass – as he said �� went back home way too earlier than both of you expected, and he could have turned a blind eye – ear, in that case – and said nothing if he knew the woman screaming Jake’s name in his bedroom was actually you, and not a random chick – his words.

So he absently texted Jay about it, thinking he was too high on his alcohol trip for hearing your voice screaming Jake’s name, teasing as he said “That would be crazy, right? That girl is really having a good time,” just to get under your brother’s skin as he always did.

However, for his misfortune – and yours –, it was you.

And Sunghoon even showed you the texts, where Jay replied with a brief, simple: “Well. Y/N went to Jake’s to study. Hah.” before turning off his phone and not receiving the next messages Sunghoon sent, trying to ease the situation.

At first you couldn’t help the bitter feeling on the back of your throat as you heard his side of the story, aware of his guilty part on it, nonetheless, to finally have a clarification of what led your relationship with Jay down to shambles was actually relieving, especially when Sunghoon said he had a plan to suggest Jay to go with them in a trip as a way to clear his mind, and then you and Jake would go as well without him knowing, and with everyone together – Heeseung too, since he was part of the friend group – it would be easier to face the problems and wrap it up with a happy ending or whatever.

Sunghoon reassured you that both he and Heeseung were on your side of the story; Jake was a good guy and they trusted him to make you happy. But Sunghoon also understood Jay’s position, since he had sisters, so he could try to help with that part as well.

Everything seemed perfect.

But it didn’t ease your comfort as you drove with Jake towards the destination, not even with his free hand holding yours and kissing the back of it gently every once and while.

“Are you hungry, my love?”

Your sorrow facade slipped just a little by hearing Jake’s tender words and the cute pet name, still not used to it.

“A little, yeah. But… I don’t think I can eat right now.”

Though you didn’t see, Jake nodded, knowing better than to try to pursue you out of your stubbornness. Now practically spending entire days with you, he mastered the art of knowing when to push you out of your shell and when not to. That moment you needed silence, comprehension and someone to be there for you just to make sure you were doing fine.

You couldn’t be more glad for having a man like Jake in your life.

And quietly, you both wished for that trip to change at least a bit of whatever was going on in Jay’s mind.

So when you both arrived – twenty minutes after the others – and Jake parked his car, you quickly spotted Jay’s blond hair amidst people in the hotel’s lobby. He wore a relaxed face, sitting on one of the couches and happily talking with his friends while they waited for you two.

The makeshift excuse Sunghoon and Heeseung told was that they were all waiting for other two friends they invited from college as well, even naming them as a way to ground the lie.

Jay didn’t mind waiting for the said people, not at all. But he also didn’t hide his surprised and slightly disgusted face when he saw the actual two friends.

“I’m with you,” Jake muttered close to your ear, holding your hand tightly. “Always.”

You just nodded, feeling the weight on each step you took until you approached them, three pairs of eyes hovering over your presence.

While Heeseung and Sunghoon happily greeted you both with big, genuine smiles, even hugging you briefly and muttering a quiet “It’s gonna be ok,” Jay, on the other hand, held an unreadable expression.

“Hey,” you said back, voice coming in a small layered apprehension that didn’t go unnoticed by none of them.

Jay was fighting his inner demons not to cringe after watching you and Jake walking together, side by side like a normal couple, but it was hard when he knew how his friend regularly acted with girls he hooked-up with, how he loved to have a one night type of thing, never really committing.

You deserved more than just a fleeting pleasant moment.

They spent a life together as something similar to brothers long enough for Jay to be aware of the consequences of that relationship, the thoughts of you being hurt triggering the worst side of his protectiveness. And to think he would lose his best, closest friend because of that stupidity increased his emotions negatively – he felt betrayed, somehow picturing you both as selfishes who didn’t care about his side in the story.

Jay simply nodded at you both without saying a word, eyes flickering quickly towards your and Jake’s intertwined fingers, taking notice of it. You followed the motion and gulped, unconsciously squeezing your boyfriend’s hand. Jay then drifted his gaze to his friends, a dry laugh escaping his lips.

“Looks like lying to me has become everyone’s favorite pastime lately, hasn’t it?”

“Come on, bro,” Heeseung shot back swiftly, not tolerating the way he changed behavior after you and Jake joined them. “You’re the one being an ass.”

“Am I?” Jay scoffed and pointed to himself, eyebrows raised skeptically. “I’m not the one fucking my best friend’s sister.”

The tension lingered in the air thickly, the silence immediate and edging the unbearable. You tried to ignore the people around you starting to take notice of the unfolding conversation between your brother and your friends. After all, the tension seemed to be rising and they were growing curious with the subject – your relationship.

Sunghoon was the first to notice the situation and your discomfort, especially as you quietly – and unconsciously – scooched to slightly hide behind Jake as a way to shield yourself from whatever could be thrown at you. At the same time, a spark of anger stirred in the depths of your soul, the same one you struggled to shove back down in order to protect your loved one’s from your possible explosion.

“Let’s not have this conversation here,” Sunghoon muttered and headed to finally make the check-in, the rest of you following him, each carrying their respectives luggages – Jake and you sharing just one that he insisted on holding, but you barely had time to proper acknowledged how hot he looked as he did so.

The path to the rooms was silent, the tension thickening as all of you stepped into the elevator, avoiding eye contact with one another. Jake noticed your mad grimace – pursed lips, mildly furrowed brows – and positioned himself in front of you, facing you in order to shield any lingering stares Jay might dare to throw your way and to distract you with his puppy eyes that showered you with genuine affection. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft and tender, grounding you a little, even stealing you a small smile.

After going through a lot during your life with your parents, you had developed an explosive, even destructive, behavior that you struggled to restrain sometimes. It had become second nature to quietly bottle up every single detail of a stressful situation, letting it all pile up until the dam finally burst, and you ended up hurting the people you cared for.

You were terrified of losing it with Jay and consequently splattering on Jake and destabilizing the amazing, reliable relationship you just got in. That fear was precisely why you had been trying to act more reserved, more withdrawn. But Jay wasn’t making it easy for you – not even a little.

Not when he rolled his eyes in the childish way possible as he realized you and Jake were exchanging affection. Not when he was acting like an angry teenager that would prefer to ignore the problem instead of facing it.

And that was why after leaving the elevator and before you could stop yourself, you let go of Jake’s hand, seizing the moment now that you were somewhere more private. It was still just the hotel corridor, but at least it wasn’t out in public. You turned to Jay and blurted it out.

“Why the fuck are you so mad for?”

It was clear that Jay was taken aback by your sudden outburst, but you couldn’t care less. The tension in the air was thick as everyone froze in their tracks. Heeseung and Sunghoon exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to do next. Jay’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker as his eyes narrowed at you.

“Y/N, babe, wait–” Jake’s voice was soft, trying to calm you down, but the storm inside you was already raging. He moved to step closer, his hand hovering over your arm, but you pulled away, brushing him off.

“No,” you cut him off as sweetly as possible, raising a hand to stop him. You turned back to face your brother, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “So far, you’ve said whatever came to your mind, now it’s my turn.”

Your voice dropped to a dangerous low, thick with underlying fury, no one daring to say a word.

“I really don’t get why you’re so mad about me being happy. You always talked about how much you wanted me to find the happiness I deserve, but now that I have it, you act like a damn child!”

Jay’s features sharpened as he clenched his jaw, eyes piercing through you. However, he kept his tone calm, he didn’t raise his voice, never. Not at you.

“Jake is not the happiness you deserve.”

“Woah, hold on…” Jake tilted his head, visibly stunned by Jay’s attack. He looked between you and Jay, trying to process the sudden shift in the conversation. His brows furrowed in confusion, a slight frown tugging at his lips. “Why are you saying this?”

You tried to ignore Jake for a while, really tried. But it was extremely difficult as you took notice of his hurted tone, which triggered even harder your ongoing feelings.

“How the hell do you know that? How can you even say that if you’re not the one in a relationship with him?” Your voice was louder now, sharp, and you felt the heat rise in your chest. Your eyes burned, threatening to spill over with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.

Jay hesitated for a second, his eyes shifting as if measuring his words carefully, but the frustration in his eyes was evident. He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice quieter now but no less intense.

“I know Jake. I’ve known him long enough to know he could just… leave you.” The words were like a knife, and you flinched.

“I would never–” Jake immediately protested, stepping forward once again, but Jay ignored him, continuing.

“And I don’t want to see my sister get her heart broken by my best friend,” Jay’s voice cracked slightly at the last part, as if he himself didn’t want to believe the possibility, but the fear still lingered in his words.

“Jay–” You started just for him to cut you off, the urgency in his voice building.

“Did you ever even think about my feelings in all of this before it happened?” His eyes were wide now, almost pleading. “No, you didn’t. And now you’re dragging me into something I never asked for.”

“No–” you shot back, voice rising, but before you could say more, Jay’s words came thickly again.

“Did you ever stop to think about what I’d have to deal with the outcome of this shit? To lose my best friend and see my sister broken because of some stupid choice.”

His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tense. The more he spoke, the more his control slipped, and you could see the anger building in him, mixed with a deep sense of hurt.

You took a deep breath, like a gasp, holding it in for a moment, before speaking slowly, your voice softening just a little. You were finally walking beside Jay’s line of thought. So that was the reason?

“And why would that be the only possible outcome? Why do you doubt Jake so much?” You paused, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “He’s sweet. Always so, so sweet and gentle. He cares for me. He loves me, and I love him too.”

As you spoke about Jake, the walls around you lowered just enough to let the raw honesty out. You felt his presence close at your back, his hands resting on your waist lovingly, managing to somewhat anchor you – your heart fluttered, your nerves soothing ever so slightly.

For a split second, you saw Jay’s expression falter. He wasn’t ready for your vulnerability nor your genuine feelings to come out. You could see it in his eyes – the battle between his protectiveness and the fleeting need to understand your and your point of view.

“I did think about you when I accepted Jake’s dating proposal,” you continued, voice growing quieter, but firm. “And I was scared you’d react exactly like this.”

Jay’s mouth opened as if he was going to argue, but the words died on his tongue. For the first time, you saw him hesitate, truly unsure of what to say next.

His eyes flickered towards Jake, who held an expectant, yet determined expression. He knew Jake wasn’t going to give up so easily, and it was impossible not to see you actually liked, loved each other. WJake positioned himself behind you, close, protective, and somehow loosed Jay’s demeanor, the weight on his shoulders dropping, maybe for realizing his best friend could give you the protection and the love you deserved – the one he was in charge of until now.

Jay struggled to gulp down his stubbornness; it was his most characteristic feature. However, on the other side of the argument was you, the little sister – now a woman – he cared for and would move mountains for if necessary.

Would Jake be able to do the same?

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, quiet, eyes lowering to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks burning in embarrassment.

You couldn’t hold back your surprised face, not when you expected the conversation to unfold in many possibilities where you would gladly, relentlessly counter each and every argument until you overtired him with your own stubbornness.

“I– I was stupid. I only thought about myself, and… I mean, you seemed so happy before I found out about you two. I guess that was… because of you, Jake.”

The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, trailing down your cheeks as you stepped closer to your brother, wrapping your arms around him in a warm, comforting hug. He didn’t hesitate to return it, pulling you firmly against his chest.

“I really care about you, kiddo,” he murmured softly into your hair, his voice tinged with both regret and affection.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, sniffing as you tried to compose yourself. “I know,” you replied, pulling back slightly to look at him. “And I’m glad you do. But now…”

Turning your head, you glanced at Jake over your shoulder – a genuine smile curved his plump lips, radiating relief and happiness. His eyes shone with pure joy, watching the two people he cherished most finally reconcile. For the first time in a while, he looked truly content and not laced with condren.

“I have him caring about me too.”

Jake took the moment to approach you both, intertwining his fingers with yours as you stepped away from your brother. He brought your hand to kiss the back of it sweetly before voicing out.

“I’ll make her really happy.”

“You better do,” Jay nodded, a small chuckle escaping him. “Just don't… screw this over, Jake. I'm serious,” the subtle change in his tone got you rolling your eyes playfully.

“I won't,” Jake promptly shot back.

“If you ever break her heart, I'll hunt you down to hell to kill you,” Jay added within a warning voice and Sunghoon, who had been silently observing the exchange, burst out laughing.

“I second that, by the way,” Heeseung chimed in with a smirk and shrugged.

“No need to worry. If I ever break her heart, I'll kill mys–”

“Shut up.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around his waist and planting a soft kiss on his cheek, your smile not faltering a bit as the rush of euphoria started to run in your veins.

Jay groaned, shooting the two of you a disgusted look before rubbing his temples as if trying to massage away the stress. It was clear he was struggling to get along with the bitter realization: his little sister, the one he had always felt an overwhelming need to protect, was now sharing intimate affection with his best friend – the very same best friend he knew far too much about, including his past escapades with commitment and… other things.

“And for the love of God,” Jay added with an exasperated sigh. “Do not… Do anything under my roof.”

“Yes, sir,” Jake quipped with a grin, earning another groan from Jay.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter, contentment filling your heart in the most endearing way. Things have been settled in the best way possible.

"Now that we have a room to ourselves…" Jake murmured with a mischievous smirk, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "And you’ve aced your physics exam…" His breath was warm against your skin, teasing the back of your ear. “And everything is set fine again…”

"And my brother is not overreacting just because I’m sucking your dick…" You couldn’t help but say it out loud within a smirk, relieved.

Jake’s eyes widened in shock, then he gasped, his hands tightening around you to pull you even closer. He laughed.

"That’s... one way of saying it, yeah." He squinted playfully, a smirk still tugging at his lips, the same lips that now pressed soft kisses on your sensitive skin, making you squirm a bit within an unfading smile dancing on your lips. You were really happy. "I’ll take it."

The following atmosphere was full of warmth and ease and for a moment you just stayed there, in the quiet calm of Jake’s arms, enjoying the simple reality of being together, just a quiet love that felt endless.

It took just a second for you to feel something poking you from behind. You hummed.

“Now I understand why you were so excited to get to our room, baby,” you purred, leaning back onto his chest and swinging your hips a little, just to friction Jake’s growing boner. His answer was immediate; a soft moan traveling its way to your ear.

“What?” He feigned innocence, pulling you closer and helping you to move your ass straight on his hardening, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Quit the act, pretty boy,” you scoffed playfully as you tilted your head back to meet his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “You're not fooling anyone.”

You met Jake with hooded eyes that locked with your lips for a while before going back up to glaze your orbs, his tempting tongue wetting those beautiful lips you loved to kiss and feel on your skin before he turned you to fully face him, his hands on your hips firm, steady as he pushed you slightly behind until you felt the back of your knees meeting the soft end of the bed.

In any moment you broke eye contact, nor words were being said while the atmosphere shifted under the soothing realization you could be completely free – with your noises, with your needs, with your relationship.

You smiled, pulling Jake by his shirt so he could fall on the mattress with you; his lips searched for yours immediately, crashing together into a delightful dance of tongues and mouths, starving each other with a longing of years. You would never get enough of your boyfriend and it felt so good to know the feeling was mutual.

His hands wandered to where you craved his touch most; Jake had become an expert at reading your body, knowing exactly what made you shiver with delight, what brought you to that edge of the pleasant bliss you loved navigating together. But there was a specific subject unspokenly lingering in the air that made him try to move back and bring it to words.

“You promised me something,” Jake mumbled against your mouth, but you didn’t give much care as you moved further up on the bed, your hands clutching on his neck to pull him with you, lips never parting. “Babe, your pussy–”

You smirked and teasingly shut him up with another torrid kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, eliciting a groan that made your cunt pulse and clench around nothing. The grip on your hips tightened and Jake finally parted the kiss, panting a little, his eyes gleaming with lust.

“Babe, you promised,” Jake protested with a whining voice and you couldn’t hold back your laughter, your eyes loaded with love, affection and burning desire drinking from his already messy features.

Jake’s hair was disheveled, a courtesy of your hands that would always tangle it, tugging and playing not only due to its silkiness, but mostly because Jake would moan beautifully into your mouth whenever you pulled a bit stronger, sending jolts of ecstasy through you.

He had a sweet voice, and his noises sounded even sweeter; as crazy as it sounds, sometimes you wished to sip Jake until he was empty.

“You’re so cute when you’re asking for my pussy, baby. How do you manage to do that?”

Jake leaned into the touch of your hand cupping his face gently, caressing his reddened and parted lips. His cheeks had a faint flush, half-opened eyes showering you with expectation, dilated pupils pleading, flickering slowly through your face.

“Please, I really need it,” Jake sounded urgent, his breath hitching as he pressed you on the bed with his body weight.

He was quick to dodge your attempt to kiss him again, taunting the wicked game you were building. His tongue traced the curve of your neck, and his lips followed with deliberate, tantalizing kisses – a striking contrast to his current raw desperate state. “Please…” he murmured, the plea thick with longing.

He was trying to nudge you out of your deviousness using your weakness, however, he wasn’t faking at all. Jake was genuinely desperate. “Oh? So it’s a need now? Not just a want?” You teased, your voice dripping with mischief as your eyes fluttered closed.

A sigh followed by a moan escaped you, your body instinctively arching forward as a wave of contentment rippled through your core. Yet Jake kept you firmly in place, pressing you into the mattress with precision, his grip restraining your movements just enough to leave you yearning for more.

“I need and I want, please…” He whispered against your earlobe before nibbling it; you felt his hand sneaking into your shirt nearly at the same time, his fingertips softly brushing your side, making you contract your stomach and try to squirm, but again, Jake was holding you strongly against the bed. “Mhm? Please?” He begged once more within a small, weak breath.

Being so close to your boyfriend always made you thrilled and also loosened. He presented you with the possibility of being yourself freely, a safe haven you didn’t know you needed. The trust you had with Jake was beyond imagination, it was with your entire being among every possible nuance of the wording; there was something about how he managed to always spark an interest of an ongoing desire that fueled your will to keep him near, physically and emotionally.

So when he offered you the prettiest hooded eyes, glistening with the plea he showed through every pore of his, you couldn’t really control the thrum of your heartbeat echoing louder and louder in your eardrums, nor your breath catching in your throat as you felt yourself swoon under Jake’s intense and eager gaze, the need of something he never actually had a taste burning in those pretty two brown orbs.

Every inch of your skin tingled in anticipation, after all you admittedly – not out loud – longed to feel Jake’s head buried between your legs as much as him. Just with how he managed to kiss you, mouth and tongue working precisely, skilfully on yours had your toes curling, yearning to feel all of that on your cunt.

“Don’t go quiet on me,” Jake murmured with a pout, one that vanished in seconds as the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. “Not when I wanna hear you screaming my name,” he quietly softened the weight of his body onto yours, giving you the room to move. Your legs instinctively opened. Jake noticed. “Just give me the word, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered close when you felt Jake lowering his kisses to your clavicle and so on, a moan slipping out of your mouth when he twirled his tongue on your hardened still covered nipple, sucking and motioning something you were sure he would be doing in your clit in a few. You just needed to… Allow it.

“Give me the word and I’ll make you feel so good…” He whispered. Once more, you felt yourself pulsing, your panties with a pool of arousal at that point. “Mhm? Please? You deserve to feel good, baby.”

He glanced up at you, giving you more of what you would experience after you said yes; the eyes looking up, the mouth deliberately and masterfully doing its job of pleasuring you, the hands holding you still.

Your whole body ignited with fervent flames, bursting with desire and an anxious longing to feel everything Jake had silently promised you until that moment. Driven by the maddening need to have him, you finally spoke, with a voice you couldn’t quite properly find as you lost yourself in your imagination.

“Yes, Jake. You can eat me out.”

Jake let out a small groan of contentment, his smile wide and radiant as he positioned himself in between your parted legs and began to remove your jeans with your help.

“That’s how I like it,” he murmured, biting his lip to hold back the surge of excitement and impatience building inside him. But the hunger to taste your pussy of you had been building for far too long to slow down now. “Good girl.”

There was no doubt Jake would make you feel good, nevertheless you found yourself unable to untense completely under the hot touches he was leaving in your skin as he undressed your bottoms; you felt awkward, especially because it was the official first time Jake was seeing you in such a position. He had fingered you and fucked you countless times, but it was the first time his face got that close to your cunt and you started to worry. To disappoint him after you had so carefully nurtured his hopes with that fleeting promise seemed unbearable.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands grabbing the sheets underneath you as you breathed heavy. Jake noticed your change of demeanor right away and soothed your skin kindly with his palms.

“Relax, my love. Why are you so tense, mhm?” The question was followed by a tender kiss on your knee and a gentle caress on your other leg. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know, honestly,” you chuckled nervously, avoiding your boyfriend’s eyes that were trying to read your anxious expression. You were being serious about your lack of knowledge of what exactly triggered your sudden reaction. “I’m afraid of disappointing you, I guess. Does that make sense?”

“No,” Jake was quick to shoot back, a sigh of admiration slipping from his plush lips for finally seeing your cunt revealed before his hungry eyes. Beautiful, he could feel his mouth watering. “You can’t disappoint me, sweet girl.”

“What if I cum too fast?” You asked without giving time to Jake to answer, and he skeptically quirked a brow at you. Did he hear it right? “What if I taste bad? What if you don’t like the feel of it? Or the look of it? What if my smell isn’t that good? What if–”

You fell silent as you felt Jake’s warm muscle licking your folds, the heat of his touch sending shivers through your heated body, legs trying to close instinctively and your eyes growing wide as you realized he just… Went for it. And he was good.

Just after the long lick, Jake sucked your clit and groaned, as if the pleasure was his, not only yours. He didn’t part the connection, though, continuing to play with your clit and your pussy in random patterns using his tongue and lips, as if he was studying which one you enjoyed the most by the way your moans sounded.

“J–Jak–Mhm…” A soft murmur mingled with a whimper interrupted whatever you were about to say – and you couldn’t even remember as you drifted your gaze down to catch the sight of Jake’s furrowed brows, deep in concentration and desire as he lost himself in you.

You brushed away the hair sticking on his lightly sweaty forehead, watching how delighted he seemed to be eating you out; you heard the lewd sounds of slurping and soft smacks imitating a kiss and you deduced he was simply making out with your pussy.

As regular as it was, your fingers tangled into his brown locks, this time urging him closer, pulling him down to you as the longing for more consumed your chest.

Jake was drunk – and loving each second. Mind blurry, only your pussy and the sweet scent and taste of it occupying the haze inside his brain as he got motivated by the pretty noises you allowed to escape your lips.

He dived into you with fervor, with love. God, he dreamed for too long to waste time with foreplays or whatever, especially when you were that wet already. He could die in between your legs and he would thank you for that.

The way your breath hitched when he went a bit further and tested to poke your pulsing hole with the tip of his tongue got his eyes glancing up to catch your contorted expression, mouth agape, head throwing back into the pillow. He moaned when you rolled your hips forward, rubbing your pussy on his face just how he wanted to.

“You’re so fucking good,” you managed to breathe out, your voice shaking between delicate moans.

Jake’s tongue lapped over and over your now dripping pussy, drinking from your juice as if it was his favorite. After cautious inspection, he understood what made you clench shamelessly and was now openly making out with your clit, even so often tongue fucking you within an impressive skill; he also positioned both your legs on his shoulder as way to ease his and your comfort.

The way your body squirmed under his firm grip on your thighs was a feeling Jake wished never to forget, especially how you unconsciously tried to press your legs together, as if it could shield you from the intensity of his touch, though you knew deep down it was futile.

Jake was addicted to every aspect about you. If he allowed himself a moment of reflection, he might feel a flicker of embarrassment over just how intensely you got him wrapped around your finger.

Your smiles, paired with your playful banter, sent a whirlwind of emotions through his chest, a constant reminder of how effortlessly you matched his provocations with your own sharp wit. Your determination, laced with a stubborn edge, stirred a deep sense of pride within him, filling his heart with admiration for your strength. And your body… it was a masterpiece in his eyes. Every curve, every line felt tailor-made for his hands, his touch, his need to hold you close and never let go.

And now you had permitted him to taste the part he cherished the most in terms of sex.

Jake didn’t care about how cringe, loser-like or shameful could sound to others, but eating girls out was everything he needed to feel fulfilled when in bed, and now, if the said girl was you, his perfect girlfriend…

“I love you so much,” you heard Jake mumble against your cunt, the slurred words vibrating against your clit brought you back from the lustful fog your mind drew into only to send you back again, a journey you would gladly revisit again whenever possible.

The knot on your lower stomach tightening had your toes curling as you tugged Jake’s hair harder, eliciting a soft moan out of his mouth that got lost in between your wet arousal.

“Mhm, F–Fuck Jake– I’m–”

“Close?” He murmured, though he didn’t expect you to answer.

Jake was way lost into his own pleasure of satisfying you to think of anything other than your release coating his tongue, and he started to shamelessly, yet slowly rut his hip against the bed as your moans increased, your legs around his shoulder pressing tighter.

“I wan’ you to come all over my face and mouth, doll.”

The blend of his words and how he started to shake his head to rub the tip of his nose on your clit while lapping your clenching hole got you screaming his name, the waves of shock running through your body within trembles as you had your orgasm. Whimpers and cries would be everything filling the room if it wasn't from Jake slurping noises getting constant with him swallowing every single drop of your climax, driving you through your high.

His big hands held you steady as he finished the job of cleaning you with his tongue, your sensitive bundle of nerves getting brief brushes that got you squirming. Jake then placed a sweet kiss on your clit, diverging from the intensity of the touches seconds ago before he pulled away, leaving you breathless and shaky, but utterly satisfied, with a dumb smile gracing your lips.

Your hooded eyes blinked slowly, tiredly as you panted for air, your whole body relaxed as if you were on the clouds. However, you captured the view of Jake undressing himself even with your slightly blurred vision; his chin and his nose were glistening with his spit and your cum, and when you finally noticed the hardened bulge hidden behind his underwear, you gulped, feeling your body heating up again before that pretty, lascivious sight.

Opposite to what you thought, Jake propped himself near to you, out of the bed still, with a cute smile, endearingly watching you regaining your senses. You didn’t catch the flicker of mischief the puppy eyes showed briefly, though.

“Babe, how about we take a shower, mhm?,” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. With a gentle stroke on your hair, he added. “I think we have a bathtub here, we can take a bath.”

A smirk danced on the corner of your lips as you sat with Jake’s help, your fingers tracing the shape of his covered dick. “But what about you, pretty boy?”

You watched Jake biting his lip, a habit you loved that made both your heart flutter and your cunt pulse. You were getting worked up again.

“We can take care of it there, can’t we?”

His gaze darkened out of the softness he was offering you when you nodded, pulling you to stand up and removing your shirt. Jake’s eyes lingered a bit longer on your now exposed breasts and you felt shy under the intensity of it, so you just leaned forward to cut the staring with a kiss.

The same kiss that had Jake holding you by the waist and you finding support on his shoulders. The same kiss that Jake used to quietly guide you towards the bathroom. The same kiss that left you breathless as you parted away with a content smile followed by a chuckle because Jake’s fingertips brushed your ribs in a teasing way.

“Oh, we have to fill it up, though…” You pouted when noticing that the said bathtub was completely empty.

Once again, you failed to realize Jake had a secret plan by the way his eyes twinkled with wicked intentions, especially because he positioned himself behind you.

“Babe…” His voice dropped an octave when he murmured against your ear, the feeling of his hot body pressing on your back together with his covered cock frictioning against your bare ass got your pussy starting to be wet again.

“Mhm?” You answered softly, hands covering Jake’s that were now on your boobs, softly massaging

“Do you trust me?”

The question was simple, the answer even simpler. And yet you found yourself hesitating, a flicker of uncertainty threatening to spark – a fleeting fear of what might unfold. But then, you remembered: it was Jake. Your Jake. The man who had dived headfirst into all your wildest adventures without hesitation, who would never dream of hurting you.

The man of your life.

“Of course I do.”

“Good,” he chuckled softly, a hint of mischief lighting his gaze as he pulled away from the warmth of your embrace, only to strip off the last piece of clothing separating him from you.

You turned on your heels, confused, aiming to ask what the hell was going on, but your eyes dropped to Jake’s big, stiff cock, the tip reddened, glistening with leaking precum in a way that got your knees weak.

“You’re hard,” you breathed out, pointing out the obvious and feeling your body working on automatic as you approached with your hands already moving further closer his length. “And hot. I’d suck you off–”

Jake shushed you with a quick peck, his lips being graced by a small smile. “Shh, come with me.”

He approached the bathtub, opening the water register to fill just the bottom of it before he settled on one of the ends and tapped his lap, urging you to join him.

“Oh?” You tilted your head to the side, a grin growing on your lips as you made your way to your boyfriend, doing as he instructed you so. “What are we doing?”

Your curiosity was driving you wild, yet there was something thrilling in the way Jake sometimes took control of the situation, keeping details scarce and letting slowly you discover things as they got revealed.

Sharing moments with Jake was a treasured part of your life, and you longed to create more special and unique memories with the one you had vowed to love for a lifetime – through every shade and possibilities.

So when he placed you on his lap, facing forward, something similar to as if you were about to ride him, you did nothing to control the excitement fluttering in your chest. Before you said any other word, Jake’s cheeks flustered with a cute tone of crimson and you furrowed your brows, a confused-amused chuckle escaping your lips because you literally had no idea of what was going on.

“Please, ignore what I’m gonna say, because it’s a fucking turn off…” Jake said with a small voice, his whole face contorted into an embarrassed expression as he tightened the grip on your hips.

“Okay…” As unsure as you sounded, still you held your expectations high. The worst that would happen was Jake making you laugh with his goofy ideas and jokes.

“You know that we calculate the velocity of some things in physics, right? Like fluids, and stuff…” You nodded along, not really getting the line of thought, but still allowing him to finish. “I was wondering… Mhm–” He cleared his throat, eyes avoiding yours precisely. You were already giggling, hands caressing his nape.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to calculate the velocity of your squirt on my dick?”

Though Jake immediately reacted by breaking into a shy laughter and hiding himself cringing on the crook of your neck, you, on the other hand, had to stifle the shocking scoff that caught in your throat upon hearing his filthy, straightforward request, your expression shifting from teasing humored to stunned disbelief. And you felt your pussy clenching right after, because Jake had that fucking effect on you, no matter what.

“I won’t lie… I was so ready to laugh,” you admitted, voice soft and edged with a dryness that had you swallowing hard, trying to hold the thrill bubbling low in your core.

Your hips rolled ever so slightly, a teasing motion that grazed against Jake’s aching hardness, drawing a guttural groan from him. Your hand held the back of his head, caressing his hair, while the other wandered over his biceps.

“But, damn, I’m so turned on right now.”

“Thank God you’re perfect.”

It was the last thing Jake said in between a relieved giggle before kissing your neck and skillfuly maneuvering your body with your help so his aching cock could finally meet the warm embrace of your walls.

A shaky shared moan echoed through the hollow bathroom walls, your head falling back, your lips parted with a small delighted smile adorning it. Jake bit your neck to muffle his following groan when he finally got himself completely inside of you; he had been hard for so long, ever since he started to think about getting lost in the taste of your pussy, craving some sexual release that only your cunt embracing his length would give him.

“So fucking tight–” He whispered against the slightly bruised skin of your neck, voice cracking at the end when you rolled your hips in a silent plea.

Without a moment of hesitation, Jake lifted you effortlessly by your hips, only to pull you back down with a steady force, guiding you with a rhythmic precision. Your arms instinctively draped over his shoulders, providing the support you needed to move with him, as you both found your pace.

“Kiss–” you breathed, a soft whimper escaping your lips, just as Jake hit a spot that made you tremble. “Kiss me, Jakey–”

As a natural command, Jake drifted his lips towards yours, his tongue licked your bottom one before sucking it and diving into a passionate, messy kiss, the movements never halting as you drowned into the pool of arousal and lust your boyfriend provided; you could feel Jake everywhere and it was amazing.

He pounded into your g-spot with ease, eliciting the loudest noises from the back of your throat, shamelessly. His hands roamed your ass to squeeze it while guiding your body up and down, the mild slapping sounds ringing in his ears like a beautiful melody.

“You make me go insane,” Jake whispered, his eyes fluttering close as the euphoria of feeling you that close drifted his senses into an overwhelming experience.

He felt a faint grin appearing on your lips before you shot back. “And– And do you like it?”

Jake chuckled lightly, a lingering smile following his answer. “I love it.”

Since you had one orgasm already, you felt your next one coming faster than expected, so when you started to involuntarily clench more, together with your whimpers of Jake’s name and curses amplified louder, Jake took a close notice to start rubbing circles on your clit with one hand, wishing you could keep on holding the position practically by yourself for a bit longer – he wanted you to do a bit more than cumming, after all.

“Close… ‘M close–” You whined, body jolting forward and your head falling back once more, the grip from your arms on Jake’s shoulders tightening as you partially hugged him.

Jake drank in the sight of you rolling your eyes close and your hips uncontrollably grinding and bouncing and doing whatever would make you achieve your climax – so fucking beautiful. It made his dick throb in despair for the same release, but he wanted so bad to feel you squirting on him. So he gathered strength from the depths of his self-control not to cum, even after you creamed his shaft with your warm liquid. Even after your squeeze grew unbearably good.

“Fuck, babe…”

“Jak– Jake– Sensitive,” you whispered when Jake didn’t stop drawing circles on your clit, momentarily forgetting he had a different plan as you struggled to squirm away. “Jake, mhm–”

Jake shook his head as if telling you no, maintaining his dick buried deep into you as he focused solely on your swollen bundle of nerves. If you paid enough attention you would feel his mischievous smile creeping on the corner of his lips grazing on your cheek.

With your eyes fluttering open to try and look at your boyfriend, the overestimation teetered the edge of madness; overwhelming at it most, you whined pleas of despair for Jake to stop, though you didn’t actually want him to.

Jake groaned when your nails scratched his back, your whole body trembling, shaking to escape the painful, yet delicious feeling of Jake driving you faster towards an inexperienced field for you.

You never actually squirted, but as soon as you reminded yourself that it was Jake's desire, you wished to give it to him as much as you wanted for yourself. Pleasuring Jake would always pleasure you as well.

“It’s gonna feel so good, doll,” Jake cooed, holding you closer, keeping you steady. “Hang in there, just a little, yeah?”

“Can’t–” You shook your head, feeling a weird feeling creeping inside you. “Can’t Jakey–”

“Yes you can,” his voice was low, soft even, though breathless. Jake was trying his best to navigate you precisely to where he wanted you to arrive. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Mhm– Fuck, Jake–” You screamed his name. “Yes, ’m yours. All yours.”

The excruciating pressure on your core felt like a glazing fire, scorching every inch of you as if it were igniting something deep inside, something new, strange. It was a fiery ache, relentless and consuming, making it almost impossible to think of anything but the heat that pulsed through you, demanding attention. The sensation grew more intense with every movement, every touch, every deliberate open-mouth kiss Jake deposited on your neck. You couldn’t decide if you wanted it to stop or if you wanted it to go on forever.

“It’s burning– Jake–” You sounded urgent, not exactly knowing why.

“Let it go, doll,” Jake murmured on your earlobe. “For me, yeah?”

And so you did, moaning, exclaiming Jake’s name like a mantra, like he was the only thing carved into your soul, the only thing crossing your mind. You felt like Jake entered you completely as a flush of fluids squirted from your pulsing, abused cunt.

At the same time, Jake had his own body trembling, his abs tensing as he came undone; not even a movement, not even a roll of hips, just the indescribable feeling of your juices flowing freely down his length and your walls clenching got him filling you to the brim with his release.

A wave of soft moans slipped from your lips, each one rising like a gentle hiss. Your mind was blank. Your body, numb. You felt everything and nothing at the same time. At some point you questioned if you had died – and if you did, it would be an amazing death.

But then Jake’s honeyed, broken voice brought you back from your trance.

“I’m still coming,” and he so fucking was; it was a different feeling from the other times, if you forced yourself to think coherently, you would realize Jake had never come that hard.

“I’m weird,” you mumbled, body softening against your boyfriend’s strong grip. He held you steady in his arms, supporting you with care. “Can’t feel my legs… Or my body…”

You heard Jake laughing a little in between pants, his noises sounding distant while your eyes began to slowly close, your body relaxing into that blur of tiredness that took over in seconds.

“I’ve got you, my love.” Jake kissed your cheek. “You did amazing. Thank you.”

With tender touches and gentle caresses, Jake cleaned both of you, making sure you were comfortable and not getting any type of extra stimulation as he did so. Through soft murmurs of reassuring words, he praised your work and thanked you for allowing him to pleasure you. As he always did.

Jake loved you with genuine affection. It never felt forced, nor did it ever seem like something he had to prove. It was simply there, effortless, constant, and profound. His love lived in the smallest gestures and the proudest compliments he would gush about, and you couldn’t feel more grateful for living in a relationship where the caring was mutual, because you cherished Jake just as much.

You were finally at peace, in a comfortable relationship with Jake, knowing there would be no more lies between you and your brother. It was soothing to be able to sink into the warm embrace of your boyfriend without worrying about interruptions, or how quickly you would have to throw on clothes and present yourself as presentable as possible, hiding the remnants of your burning passion behind fake smiles and lame excuses.

Jake had a scent of home, of love. And it felt so, so good to love him without restraint, to kiss him without fear, to feel a sense of completeness as he fit perfectly in a special place in your chest.

“Y’know, I was just thinking…”

Jake’s voice filled the quietness of the room. He had put you in a comfortable set of clothes and laid on the bed with you, your body curled cozily against his chest, his soft heartbeats soothing your senses.

“We complement each other pretty well.”

“How so?”

Your ask came as silent as his. Jake caught himself thinking deeply, snuggling you closer as he did so.

“Mhm… I lean towards physics and you’re into art,” you nodded along, casually drawing random shapes on his bare torso.

The softness of his tone vibrated through his chest like a sweet lullaby. You sighed.

“I feel like you’re more rational than I am… You’re always so, so determined and adorably stubborn until you get what you want… And I’m kinda lazy, not gonna lie.”

“That’s true,” you smirked, raising your head briefly just to shoot a teasing glance. Jake chuckled, rolling his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you nestled back against him.

“We always find a way to please each other, in every sense,” he continued and you couldn’t help the warm flushing from your neck to your face, shyly shifting to hide yourself on his neck. Jake giggled, caressing your back. “And I always feel complete when I’m with you.”

Pulling back slightly, you searched those two mesmerizing eyes, brimming with tenderness and care. With love. Jake was a beautiful masterpiece, worthy of endless admiration you would willingly give, because you loved him just as much.

“I agree,” you whispered, caressing his cheek. “We’re like pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly.”

“Exactly,” Jake breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed as tranquility washed over him after you pressed a tender kiss on his lips just to get cozy again against his torso. “We’re complementary, babe.”

BONUS SCENE

"Well, well… If it isn’t the cutest couple..." Sunghoon greeted you both with a teasing tone as you approached the table.

The weekend trip was nearing its end, and that was the last meal the five of you would share at the hotel. It was a simple yet cozy dinner, the kind that felt more meaningful because of the company. A table set with exactly five seats, ready to accommodate all of you.

Jake responded to Sunghoon’s comment with a playful smack to the back of his neck before you both took your seats; Heeseung settled on your right, Sunghoon next to Jake, and Jay directly across from you.

“The cutest and the freakiest, too. Jesus Christ.” Heeseung muttered just loud enough for you and Jake to hear. Instinctively, your eyes darted up to catch the displeased scowl on your brother’s face. “Please, never put me next to their room again.”

“The choice was either you or Jay, so…” Sunghoon shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, though it didn’t stop Heeseung from glaring at him.

“And you weren’t an option?”

“Of course not. My trip, my rules. You should be grateful I even got you a solo room.”

“Oh, right, because between hearing Y/N scream Jake’s name and–”

“For God’s sake, dude,” Jake interrupted immediately, his voice sharp but laced with embarrassment.

Your cheeks burned fiercely as you sank into your chair, crawling Jake’s arm as if your life depended on it, trying desperately to avoid looking at Jay – or anyone else. But from the corner of your eye, you caught him massaging his temples with one hand, the other lifting his glass of wine to his lips as if he needed a moment away from the conversation.

“Am I wrong, though?” Heeseung arched an eyebrow and looked directly at you, who were now sipping your drink, still curled against Jake who held you by your shoulder. “I bet you were having a good time in the bathroom.”

Jake couldn’t suppress the sudden snort of laughter that escaped him when seeing you and Jay choking, each with your own drinks, together. On the other hand, Sunghoon shamelessly burst into a loud, noisy laugh, clapping his hands and throwing his head back as if it was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed.

“Oh, man, this is gold,” he managed to say, eyes flickering in between your mortified expression and Jay’s mad grimace.

You coughed into your napkin, one that Jake handed to you gently, holding back his own wanting to laugh at it too, your cheeks blazing hot.

“Heeseung, I swear to God, if you–”

“Relax, Y/N. I won’t tell about how hard–”

“Ok. Shut up, dude,” Jake interrupted sharply again, though his voice carried a mix of amusement and shyness. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm, anchoring you away from their teasing.

Jay, however, wasn’t laughing. Not at all. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his expression tense as he shot Heeseung a glare that could cut through steel.

“Some of us don’t need a visualization of whatever happened in that room. Thank you.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, which shone with amusement, matching perfectly with his playful grin.

“Come on, Jay. It’s all in good fun,” Heeseung replied, waving off the tension with a careless flick of his hand. “We all know they’re just very passionate. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, God.” You groaned, burying our face in your hands, feeling Jake giggling by the way his body trembled against yours. “I hate all of you. So much.”

The mortification flooded your senses, an urge to run away from their playful banter because you didn’t know where else to hide. However, the same subject being treated with jokes and laughter eased your fear of Jay turning back on his decision of supporting you and Jake.

“Even me?” Your boyfriend asked, kindly grabbing your chin to lean your head upwards to face him. He had a feigned pouty expression, one that elicited a giggle from you right away.

You shook your head. “No, baby, never you.”

And just at the moment your lips touched Jake’s into a sweet gesture, you heard your brother’s voice.

“Am I that ass of a brother to deserve this level of pain and torture?” Jay muttered, his voice dripping with exaggerated exasperation.

You and Jake giggled in between the kiss, parting ways as you bit your lip and shot a fake annoyed glance at Jay – comfort now settling your nerves, as you noticed he was trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

“Maybe?” You teased, your tone playful as you tilted your head. Jay rolled his eyes, but the small smile dancing on his lips didn’t deny he was starting to accept your relationship.

“Whatever, kiddo.”

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @taeminsboogers, @4wkjun, @wiccangirl29, @guapgoddees, @manuosorioh, @zkg2318, @m3wkledreamy, @jakeswifeyyy, @love4hee, @missychief1404, @thlrstae, @jaems-left-toe

(the ones in bold text i couldn't tag!)

#jake x reader #sim jake x reader #jake sim x reader #jake smut #jake fanfic #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #heegyukeluv works

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lovelytsunoda · 11 months ago

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don't go breaking my heart // lance stroll

soft moments stolen between wedding and reception

weddings are joyous and festive, but can be stressful for introverts like lance and his wife. so when they were able to steal some moments with each other in the peace of his aston martin between the ceremony and the venue, they know these are the moments they will treasure the most from that day.

pairing: lance stroll x newlywed reader

warnings: just fluff, a minor minor allusion to sex.

author's note: i have no idea why i have written so many wedding things for this man, but i think it's because he is the raw definition of husband material. thank you and good night lmao.

“don’t go breaking my heart…I couldn’t if I tried”

elton john and kiki dee crooned over the speakers as lances aston martin drove through the quebec countryside. it was a quiet night, stars high in the sky as he ran his thumb over his wife’s thigh.

“I love you.” he hummed, daring to look over at the love of his life as he took a corner too fast. “my darling darling wife.”

she smiled, meeting his gaze. “eyes on the road, handsome. you’ve got the rest of your life to stare at me. I love you too.”

the wedding had felt like a blur, maybe because of how wired they both felt. it should have been a smaller ceremony, in all hindsight considered.

it was an odd thing: you want to celebrate your love around all these people, but then the day arrives and suddenly you feel anxious at letting them see you pledge your heart to another.

lance and y/n had always been the quiet, soft couple. the one evoking ‘awe’s and heart eyes from the groups around them. they knew each other like the backs of their hands, better than any track map or textbook.

“enjoy the quiet while it lasts.” she hummed, nimble fingers gently easing the pins for her white lace veil out of her hair. “is it bad that I’m dreading my own reception?”

lance laughed. "nope. because i am, too. i know it's all about us and all that, but i hate being the center of attention. i would have rather had a dinner party."

she snorted. "technically this is really just a rather large dinner party."

"i mean, there's food and wine, you picked a damn good throwback playlist. dinner party." lance shrugged, taking his foot off the gas, headlights illuminating the empty road ahead.

lance had decided to take the scenic route, savoring this moment alone, this little bit of calm before the storm. before the party, the noise, the people.

just him and his wife, falling a little bit more in love with each other every day.

"if scotty throws his back out dancing to 'suicide blonde', i'm not fucking helping." y/n laughed, reaching for the stereo to flip to the offending inxs song. "i still cannot believe that this song was about kylie fucking minogue."

"there's a reason we invested in the mocktail bar."

"you know most of the guys have flasks hidden in their suit jackets, right?"

she would have preferred something low key, but her family had wanted the big party. it wasn't all bad. she got to pick the food (pasta bar, anybody?), the drinks, the decorations, the music. she'd made a throwback playlist of all her favorite happy songs, all the ones that made her feel alive, giddy and in love, ranging from inxs to def leppard to kesha.

she'd waited twenty-five years for this moment, so why was she suddenly getting this bad feeling about going to the party that followed?

the event venue slowly came into view over the distance, the white brick building with it's pillars and vintage charm, the walkway to the door lit up with fairy lights. the small parking lot was already almost full, the rest of the guests waiting inside for the happy couple. lance parked his car furthest from the door, but kept the engine running.

he took her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. "we can turn around and drive away." he was dead serious when he looked over at her. "i'm serious, we can run and go get burgers and milkshakes and see a movie and then go back to the hotel and not sleep a minute because we are too busy having the goofiest, most romantic sex of our lives. i just want you to be comfortable."

"i know. and that's why i love you so much, lance." she sighed, a smile blooming on her face. "but our friends are in there. our parents are in there. hell, your dad is probably trying to sell my dad on buying a time share villa in biarritz."

lance laughed, leaning over the center console to kiss her forehead. "whenever you want to leave, you just tell me. if you need a minute to yourself, just shoot me a text message and i'll come and find you. or don't, if you just want a walk in total solitude. i'll probably need one of those at some point, too."

"i knew there was a reason i married you." she joked, tilting her head up to press her lips to his. "i love you to the moon and back, lance."

"you wanna go inside?"

"we might as well."

lance took his seatbelt off, shutting off the car and sliding out of the driver's door. her dramatically slid across the hood, earning a laugh from his wife as he skipped towards her door, opening it for her before extending a hand for her to take.

"beautiful girl, love of my life, may i help you out of this shockingly low car?"

she laughed, slipping one of her hands into his warm one. "yes, my beautiful husband. yes, you may."

she stepped out of the car, the hem of her white silk dress dusting the gravel in the parking lot. a breeze ran through the area, making the hair on the backs of her arms stand up.

"love, you're shivering." lance said softly, slipping out of his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she put her arms through the sleeves, wrapping her arms fully around her husband. "i love you."

"i love you, too." she took a minute to stand there, her nose in his dress shirt, breathing in his cologne. bath and body works, today. she liked that. something playful and romantic instead of the heavy, stinging designer scents he usually wore.

"we should go inside." he whispered, their bodies swaying together in the silence, her skin warm against his.

"or we could stay out here just a little longer."

and who was he to argue with that?

"you get five more minutes. i'm starting to get hungry and the pasta bar has my name written all over it."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @diorleclerc @httpiastri @silverstonesainz @lorarri @twinkodium

#fools in love! event #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x you

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furiousgoldfish · 3 months ago

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(tw mentions of physical abuse, essay about life after abuse)

Imagine a kid who is forced to work, in a room where they're being kicked while they work. It doesn't happen all the time, but often enough that they know to expect to be kicked while they work. If they refuse to work, abuse gets worse, so the least painful thing they can do is work and endure being kicked.

Eventually, the kid escapes. Now they're in a situation where they need to work to earn income to survive. They only know the one job they did while being kicked, so thats what they do. They find themselves in a room, and as they work, their stomach clenches. They're looking around anxiously, expecting to be kicked. It doesn't happen, but people are walking by, and some of them come too close, and it feels like a kick is about to happen.

They flinch every time and are met with bewilderment, offense, sometimes ridicule for being paranoid. But they can't help it. Being kicked is all they know. Every time it doesn't happen, it feels like a cruel joke, a prank that is being played, a game. A setup to make them feel stupid for imagining they wont get kicked.

From the outside, it looks normal. Nobody is kicking them, nobody is doing any harm to them. Other people must wonder why are they flinching. Why are their reactions bizarre. It comes off weird. Self obsessed. They hold this view of themselves in their mind, because they had to view themselves from others point of view for self preservation. They know they're only viewed critically and try their best to offer a good preformance of normalcy. But it does nothing to change the fear or the pain they feel. They assume its irrational and illogical to feel this, since nobody else seems to be ecperiencing that.

They're no longer being kicked, but they're still in the environment where nobody cares what they're going trough. They do not receive any warmth, concern or understanding; they're unable to connect with anyone in their environment due to differences in life experience. They don't get a chance at bonding or having a community. They're in a sea of impassive strangers, all one their own.

They have no way of asserting their emotions because they're foreign and unrelatable to everyone else. The dissaproval, misunderstandings and judgments fall heavy on their heart, feel li.ke a punishment. They cannot even acknowledge that others around them get acceptance, community, connections and approval, because that concept is unexperienced and foreign to them. They cannot see they're at a disadvantage, and not standing on equal grounds. They feel shame for not managing their situation better, while being an outcast.

And in the end they wish they would just get kicked already. One reliable, predictable and constant thing in their life was replaced by endless anxious anticipation and foreign environment that brings new shame. Before, they could at least count on something, have a tangible proof of harm, know how to react, what to do. Usually after the pain would happen, there would be a few moment of relief because the worst was over and at least they could relax for a second. And their brain adapted to it, releasing relaxing chemicals only after pain, and never breaking tension otherwise.

Now there is no breaking of the tension, nobody is visibly causing pain, and they're stuck feeling anticipation and dread all of the time, coupled with a shame for so 'ičrrationally' feeling this.

This is how it feels when abuse victims are expected to immediately function normally after escaping abuse. Being kicked is a metaphor - it could have been anything that chronically caused distress, pain and loss of control over their life.

It's unreasonable to expect someone from an extreme environment to be quickly okay. It's cruel to put them in a situation reminiscent of abuse in any way and expect them not to flinch. It's ignorant to shame them for wanting back the familiar pain, over the stressful new situation they're not equipped to handle. It's unfair to ignore their disadvantage and act like anyone could be okay without any warmth, connection, understanding or community just because they're not being kicked anymore. Most people would collapse without all that.

It gets worse before it gets better after escaping abuse. It doesn't mean it was wrong to escape, or that victims can't learn to function. Victims are often going above and beyond to make it, and are rewarded for it by being forced to see themselves trough the eyes of society that judges them for being set up to fail.

It will get better. Your brain can and will adapt. You will gain experiences that will allow you to have things in commom with others. You won't have to feel inadequate or ashamed forever. Especially if you can be in a room with people who understand what was done to you, and will not put you in a situation where you have to wonder when a kick is coming.

#child abuse #cptsd #abusive parents #escaping abuse #abuse aftermath #abusive environment #trauma #complex trauma

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delimeful · 11 months ago

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let my mind reset (6)

warnings: angst, brainwashing, torture, psychological conditioning, references to injury/gore/death, harmful surgical implants, they are really going through it now, lmk if i missed any

Where the hours had passed slowly before, now they seemed to slip by all too fast. Every spare moment Roman had was spent in anxious anticipation of the next session and all that came with it.

He had never seen something like the haze used on a person before. Crav’n were invulnerable to it, and he’d only ever witnessed his aunt use it briefly on one of the local fauna once, a harmless and finicky tree-dwelling species about the size of his hand.

(Roman remembered the way Marta had compelled the little creature to pace back and forth, from place to place, wearing its will away until there wasn’t any hesitation between order and action. Then, she’d sent it walking into the nearby pond.

He remembered the way its survival instinct had set in late, the way it began to thrash, and still Marta didn’t call it back. He remembered feeling relieved when his mother stepped in and put a stop to the demonstration, scooping the poor beast from its fate with disapproval etched firmly in the set of her shoulders.

He didn’t remember if the creature had lived through the withdrawal, afterwards.)

Virgil was far from a simple animal, though, and despite Roman’s half-formed nightmares, he didn’t mindlessly succumb to the influence of the drug the first time it was forced on him, nor the second or the third.

In fact, every time the other Humans entered his cell with that unsettling green canister, he seemed just as panicked as Roman, if not more, putting up as much of a fight as he could with a battered body and a wrung out mind. No matter how they tutted or scolded, the other Humans still couldn’t get the mask on him until Roux had him forcibly subdued, which was a tiny victory in itself.

That didn’t stop the drug from taking its toll each and every time.

As horrible as it sounded, the worst part was that the effects weren't painful or malicious in nature. At least that would have been easier to fight against; a logical, instinctive response to being hurt.

No, it was far more insidious than that. The haze dulled pain. First, the physical: it eased away the stiffness of sore muscles and the burning of shocked nerves, leaving only a pleasant numbness behind. Then, the mental: it stalled the production of stressful chemical compounds, replacing them with whatever was needed to trick the victim’s mind into believing they were happy, relaxed, pliable.

Roman had never seen Virgil so unwound, so carefree, and he hated how unnatural the behavior seemed on the Human. It was a miserable experience, finally seeing him without the hunted slant to his posture, and feeling sickened by the sight.

What was worse was watching it wear off.

As though a switch had been thrown in reverse, Virgil would be plagued by a creeping, unrelenting sense of panic and dread, pacing around his cell frantically until a sudden hypersensitivity to touch left him crumpled in one spot, breathing harsh and pained.

Time after time, he was shown exactly how painful withdrawal from even a few doses was, until he was left bracing for it well before the next session had even begun.

“The last guys who had me would have killed for something like this,” Virgil said, nearly panting as he laid out on his back. He had his fingers pressed against his neck, feeling his pulse. His heart was racing so hard that Roman could see the veins pulsing eerily under the skin. A heavy spike of adrenaline, unprompted by anything tangible. “Bet she has at least a few people stashed away just to drain for easy cash.”

He spoke more, like this. Out of turn, about topics that were morbid and pessimistic, as though the thoughts were tumbling free of his mind without his permission. Roman never let his negative reactions to the more grim topics go beyond his ears flickering back; it wasn’t like he had the room or right to judge. They didn’t have very many reasons to be optimistic. Besides, he’d realized early on that the more worked up Roman got, the worse Virgil got in turn.

He still didn’t know the exact details of how Dren harvesting worked, and he was fairly sure he was better off for it. The very idea of setting an entire person aside for something like that was reprehensible, and therefore entirely possible for Marta.

“She said she… she gets rid of Humans that don’t break,” he replied after a moment, the words tumbling freely from him for once. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to turn a profit from it.”

He’d been trying to match the distant, dry tone Virgil had used, but he must have missed the mark, because the Human stiffened, and drew his hand back from Roman’s grasp to press it harshly against his eyes.

Belatedly, Roman realized what he’d just implied. Virgil was one of those Humans trying not to break, was at this very moment barely clinging to his composure, and he’d just been informed he was stuck between two horrific fates worse than death. “I didn’t mean—,”

“‘S alright,” Virgil interrupted, voice rough with exhaustion. “It’s not like I didn’t know. It makes me feel a little better, honestly.”

Roman stared at him, bewildered and still slightly aghast at his own stupidity, and Virgil shifted a few fingers to peer back with one eye.

“At least some Humans didn’t fall for it, y’know? At least some of them got out in their own way,” he continued, a thin thread of hopelessness tangled up in the words. “I was starting to wonder if the rest of space was right. If we were all just destined to be monsters with the right motivation.”

Roman should have been more alarmed at the implication that Virgil felt close to succumbing, that he was nearer than he’d ever wanted to be to a Human on the brink of falling under someone else’s blatantly malignant control, but all he could feel was a painful sympathy.

“You’re not a monster,” he said, and then, more firmly— “Humans aren’t monsters.”

Virgil’s eye widened slightly, gaze intent in a way that would have made Roman bristle in the past.

“They’re just people. They can do good or bad, just like anyone else. And sure, these guys are— they’re not doing good.” A pause, and Roman forced himself to meet Virgil’s stare. “But you have. You saved Patton, and you tried to save me, and you’re— you’re not a monster. You’re a good friend.”

Virgil buried his face back in his elbow and was quiet for a long moment.

“…You’re not so bad yourself.”

—

Roman hadn’t expected Marta to show up in person, not with how much she had delegated to her brainwashed underlings thus far, but arrive she did.

“Don’t fret, ghiva’al,” she crooned to him, passing by his cell with the lightest clink of her claws dragged against the bars. “I’m here to meet your little pet, not you.”

“Don’t—,” call me that, call him that, he wanted to snarl, but his throat closed up so sharply that it sounded a little like he’d choked.

Marta made her stilted croaking laugh, sparing him a glance that might have been pitying if it had bothered to reach her cold, empty eyes. “You always did struggle with words when emotional, didn’t you? Not nearly as well spoken as your mother. What a shame to see that hasn’t changed.”

There was a sharp clacking as an aggressive shudder ran through Roman’s scales, but he still couldn’t find his voice. Not even when Marta moved on to grip the bars of Virgil’s cell, her attention shifting to the Human where he stood warily in the center of the cage.

Roman had learned more than he’d ever thought he would about Human body language over the past few weeks. He knew from the slight sway to Virgil’s every shift that the Human was drained, likely barely keeping his feet.

Still, he was upright to face Marta, his height advantage allowing him to look down at her, and that was better than being crumpled on the ground at her feet. Little victories were all they had now, and they clung to each and every one.

Roux wasn’t there, Roman realized with a jolt, and the knowledge was enough to drag his mind into overdrive, a sudden double-edged hope springing to life in his chest.

Virgil must have already realized, because the way he held himself shifted into something taut and coiled, like he was preparing to lunge forward at the first opportunity, weak or not.

“Back of the cell,” Marta commanded, voice turned brisk and blunt in a way it hadn’t been with Roman. Like she was speaking to a beast instead of a person.

Virgil didn’t move, barely deigned to acknowledge the words beyond a brief flicker of his pupils upwards.

Marta waited, letting the silence stretch for a brief moment, and then clicked her teeth together in a mild reprimand. “The hard way, then.”

Despite her apparent annoyance, the words held a sort of anticipatory delight, and Roman felt the thick tar of dread slide under his scales as he watched her slide a small, triangular remote from a pouch at her side.

When she pressed the button in the center of it, she was looking at Roman.

It was Virgil who went rigid and fell.

Despite knowing it would undercut every lie he’d tried to sell about how little he cared, despite the fact that he was playing right into her claws, Roman couldn’t help but rush to the bars separating them, a shout of horror catching in his chest.

The Human hit the ground hard but stayed chillingly frozen, with every muscle locked into hard lines. He didn’t make a sound until Marta shifted her thumb away from the button, the motion somehow allowing him to finally go limp like a puppet with strings cut.

“Virgil!” Roman managed, though the sound of it was nearly lost in the sudden loudness of the Human’s gasping breaths. He hadn’t been breathing before, Roman realized with a terrified shock.

Whatever Marta was doing, it hadn’t countered Virgil’s natural stubbornness, and he climbed back to his feet with less staggering than Roman would have expected.

His gaze caught on the tremor to Virgil’s hands, the shuddering of his pulse, and he understood. Adrenaline.

The fight or flight instinct, Virgil had called it while talking with Patton. Roman had seen him choose to fight once, at their very first meeting, but even that couldn’t compare to the speed and ferocity of the way the Human lunged now.

Marta didn’t flinch back when he made loud, skull-rattling contact with the bars, but she didn’t blink, either, keeping her eyes firmly locked on Virgil as she pressed the button once more.

Instead of letting him drop, however, she reached out and seized him by the face, claws digging in on either cheek and holding tightly.

Virgil couldn’t so much as flinch away from the pain, and Roman slammed his arm against the door of his own cell with force, furious at his own helplessness.

Marta released the trigger again, and this time, every gasping inhale Virgil took was dosed with her haze. He tried to jerk back, but it was far faster acting straight from the source, and he had barely a moment before his expression dropped to something hollow and smooth, his desperate strength wavering and then extinguishing like a flame with nothing left to burn.

“Down,” Marta commanded, releasing her grip, and Virgil stood in place for a few long heartbeats before his legs collapsed underneath him.

She waved a hand absently down at him, still scattering her haze thick in the air. “There you go. It feels so much better when you listen, doesn’t it?”

Virgil twitched, a ripple of discontent crossing his face, but didn’t respond. He was shaking relentlessly now, his entire body trembling in a way that had Roman deeply concerned.

“You’re safe with me,” Marta lied, reaching down to glide the palm of her hand over the side of Virgil’s face. “You’re only safe with me. Everyone else wants to hurt you, but I’ll make the pain go away. Always do as I say, okay?”

Virgil didn’t move away, even as her rough skin caught on the wounds her claws had left only moments ago. His breathing grew wispier, slower, until he appeared almost calm, his eyes dazed and distant.

“Let’s try this again,” Marta straightened, and when her hand left Virgil’s cheek, he strained after it for a handful of seconds. “Back of the cell.”

Virgil climbed back to his feet, and Roman closed his eyes as the Human quietly began shuffling across his stretch of cell. He felt all of six winters old again, watching his aunt lead something fuzzy and helpless back and forth, closer and closer to the water’s edge.

“Good. Now, heel.” More shuffling, wordless as a corpse.

How long did he have before Virgil took his own plunge?

—

It took longer than before for Virgil to regain coherence, afterwards.

Roman knew the moment he’d come back to himself, because the soft grip around his hand had instantly vanished, yanked away so sharply that he’d barely registered the movement before Virgil was up on his feet and backing away.

“Virgil,” he tried, and the Human shook his head, the motion harsh, his hands lifting up to grip roughly at his hair in a distressed motion Roman had only ever caught glimpses of back on the ship.

He’d continued to retreat until he hit the furthest corner of the cell, where he slid down and curled in on himself, utterly unreceptive to any of Roman’s stilted calls. Roman caught his expression crumpling into a miserable grimace before he buried his face in his knees and hid that away too.

The silence stretched.

If there were some right words to say here, Roman couldn’t find them. Even if he did, he undoubtedly wouldn’t be able to say them. The helplessness sheared against his scales like rough sand, but how could he allow himself to wallow in it when he at least still had his mind, his existence still unarguably his own?

Freshly taunted by the knowledge that he didn’t have even that much, Virgil remained still and taut and quiet in the furthest reaches of his cell for what felt like a very long time.

When he did finally stir, Roman was appalled to see the faint streaks on his face where his tears had washed away the sweat and grime.

Patton had described Human weeping as arrhythmic vocalizations, much like Ampens, but with a physical manifestation as well. Roman hadn’t known that Humans could cry silently, like a pup gone still and quiet in the face of danger, with only the barest hitching of breath to indicate distress.

The expression on Virgil now was creased into firm lines, but it didn’t seem agonized or crumbling at the edges. Rather, as he climbed to his face, he seemed to hold the same bitter resolution Roman had seen in him a few times before: during the tail end of their first meeting, and after the fight with the raiders, both times when he’d thought he was about to be left alone again.

“Roman,” he started, and then worked his jaw tersely, once, twice. Rather than continue, he held out a hand, palm-up in silent offering.

Things had changed a lot over the course of their captivity, Roman reflected as he reached out and set his own hand in the Human’s grasp with barely a shred of hesitation. It felt like second nature by now, to reach out and cling on whenever his stomach was roiling with stress.

Virgil watched him for a moment longer, and then wrapped his fingers around Roman’s hand and drew closer, slowly pulling his arm up until he had positioned Roman’s claws just above the skin of his neck.

“This,” Virgil said, each word resolute, “is the best place to sever if you want to kill a Human quickly.”

The words took a dull, ringing moment to sink in, but once they did, Roman jerked back sharply. “Virgil, what—?”

For the first time, Virgil held on, keeping his hand pinned in place with ease even as he had to grip the bars with his other hand to remain upright. Roman could see the way the Human’s pulse fluttered under the skin, a heartbeat racing visibly exactly where Virgil had indicated.

“It’s important. You need to know,” Virgil insisted, and lifted their joined hands higher, to his temple. “Head wounds bleed a lot. Gashes up here are valuable because the blood runs down and drips into their eyes, which will work pretty well as a distraction—,”

“Stop it!” Roman demanded, yanking harder as his panic increased. “I’m not going to— stop talking like that! I don’t need to know how to hurt you!”

At the start of their voyage, Roman would have done just about anything for information like this, anything to feel safe on his own ship again. So why was he learning it only now, when each word and accompanying gesture made him feel ill and rotted down to the tip of his tail?

“It’s not— Roman, it’s not about me,” Virgil said, frustration seeping into his voice. He let Roman drag his hand away from his face, but still didn’t let go. “It’s about them.”

Roman wasn’t sure he believed that. “I don’t need to kill anyone. They’re brainwashed, this is Marta’s fault! I know the truth, now.”

Virgil shook his head, ghosted the fingers of his free hand over his implant scar with a distant, sickened expression. “It’s not that simple. I don’t want guilt to be the reason— Look. If it’s them or you, I want it to be you. I want you to make sure it’s you.”

And what if it's me or you? Roman thought, but the words lodged firmly in his chest until he could barely breathe around them.

“They all made their choice,” Virgil continued once it became clear that Roman wouldn’t respond. “They’ve kept making that choice, every time. You have to want to survive, too, okay?”

Mutely, Roman nodded, trying to ignore the creeping sense of horror. He pulled Virgil’s hand back towards himself, fumbled for speech for a long moment before finding the words and hoping they didn’t feel like a betrayal when spoken aloud.

“The underbelly,” he started, and Virgil’s expression— shut down. Every hint of body language went flat like stone, and just as unyielding.

“No.” The word was final, a sentence all its own, and Roman scowled mulishly.

“But—!”

“Roman.” Virgil lifted his other arm over so that he was clasping Roman’s hand between both of his own. “You’re the only one left, right? You told me that.”

The thought was still a wound-like pang in his chest, even after all this time. “Yes,” he admitted. “But, even still—,”

“No way. I don’t want to hear it, man. There’s nobody I would be willing to use it on, anyhow.” Virgil kept his gaze locked firmly on a point past Roman’s shoulder, but his shoulders were set, his voice steadfast.

There was no point arguing. Not now, when the both of them were one wrong move from collapse.

“Okay,” Roman finally said, and forced himself not to protest when Virgil reclaimed the position of lecturer. It was a struggle not to wince away with each gory anecdote, a full guide on the quickest ways to make the Human body stop functioning or even turn on itself.

“Gut wounds are slow to kill, but they can be painful enough to debilitate. There are vulnerable organs here, below the rib cage, and damage to them is difficult to treat without surgery if the wound is severe enough…”

Still, he held himself at attention, did his best to memorize every word.

If Virgil wouldn’t accept knowledge about Roman’s own vulnerabilities as a gift of equal exchange, Roman would simply have to treasure this information with the same dedication that he applied to the rest of their small crew.

After all, knowing all the individual weak points of a Human would make it that much easier for him to protect each and every single part of Virgil.

Virgil wasn’t going to die. Not here, and certainly not by Roman’s own claws. Not if Roman had anything to say about it.

#sanders sides fic #wibar #lmmr #let my mind reset #ts virgil #ts roman #humans are deathworlders #my writing #writing #sanders sides #space au

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 1 year ago

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Anger: Raphael’s Ending (Angst) (18+)

2007!Raphael x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Leonardo's Ending

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A/N: Here it is! The one you all have been waiting for! The last chapter of the Anger series. Raphael’s Ending. Now, enjoy yourself as you fool around once more with Raphie boi❤️

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Warnings: Angsty emotions, strong emotions, face sitting, oral - female receiving, every slight sub Raph and dom reader, turtley anatomy, unprotected sex.

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Reluctantly Raphael did like Leonardo had told him, and went to Donatello to get his arm checked. Turned out it was a good idea to get Donnie to look at it. The injury had been way worse than Raph had thought. To say that Donnie was freaking out was an understatement. He was screaming and yelling like Leo often did when he was mad, asking him how he could have been so careless. With Mikey watching quietly, listening intently to all of Donnie’s questions, waiting for Raph’s answers in anticipation. But as Donnie wrapped up Raph’s arm, he shot down every single one of the questions with a growl. It was none of their business what had happened, and he had no intention of telling them anything. Especially not new mother hen Donnie, who’s questions made Raph’s four toes curl in frustration. Except for his bad toe. Donnie had to wrap that one up too.

With his arm and toe bandaged, Raph didn’t do much the next few days. He ate and slept, restlessly waiting for the moment he knew who you chose; him or his oldest brother. In all honesty, the waiting made him anxious. He was jumpy at all sounds, turning to look at the entrance, hoping you were about to walk in. But every time it was either nothing but his own imagination, or just one of his brothers.

As the days went on, Raph only became more and more fearful. Sitting in his room late at night, his leg with his good foot restlessly bouncing up and down, staring into his wall, wondering what you were doing. What you were thinking. Maybe you were thinking about Leo. All this time, after that night, were you thinking of Leo? It was a dreaded thought that Raph found more and more often, causing him immense stress.

During the day, Raph would watch Leo out of the corner of his eye, unsure of how he could keep so calm, during these tense days of waiting. Did he not fear what the possible outcome would be? Or did he know something that Raph didn’t? Was he so calm because he had no reason to fear the outcome? That was the thought that kept Raph at the edge of his seat, fears and insecurities clouding his mind. Leo was so calm, because he knew you would choose him. That was at least the fear that was taking root in Raph’s thoughts.

At night, Raph stayed up late, laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling of his room. The slight pain in his arm when he laid the wrong way kept him up. The mere thought of you kept him up. The smell of you in his room kept him up, bringing back all the memories of you and him, tangled up in his bed sheets. The way you moaned into his ear, begging him to keep going, your arms grasping around him as he would continuously thrust into you, enjoying your warmth against him. Raph felt longing re-enter his heart, alongside the stinging pain of sadness.

What would Raph do if you decided to go back to his brother instead of him? What could he do? Would he have to go back to how he used to go about his feelings for you? Fueling with immense anger and hatred towards you and his brother’s relationship. Raphael hated the thought. For once he was tired of being angry. He just wanted you back in his arms, and feel his world become peaceful once again. He wished to feel your lips once more, and hear your beautiful voice say his name, just like you had done all those times.

Raph cursed himself in his bed. Why did he never tell you? Why did he never tell you that he loved you? All those times he had you under him, he never took the time to tell you those words that filled his head. He loved you. Fuck, how he loved you. It was the reason he got himself into this mess and made a fool of himself in the first place. All because of his anger, impatience and his love for you. He had been so blinded by his own wants and needs, that he did not think of you nor your wishes. And now, after finally having gotten a taste of you, Raph would never be able to live a life, knowing you were as amazing as he had thought you would be, and not having you.

Raph rubbed his face, before turning onto his good side with his back towards the door. Did you know you had the power to drive him crazy? With the storm he was feeling inside, there was no way that you didn’t. He was sure that the lightning from his mental clouds could be heard all over New York City.

While laying there on his side, Raph heard the door to his bedroom creak open. He sighed in annoyance, knowing fully well it was Donatello who had comed in to check up on his arm.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Donnie?”, Raph growled in annoyance as he sat up so he could turn to look at the door. “My arm is okay! You don’t have to check on it every-”. Raph stopped mid sentence, once he realized it wasn’t Donnie that had walked into his room. Raph was shocked to see you close his door behind you, before turning your attention towards him.

Your eyes fell upon his arm, and concern flashed over your. “What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing”, Raph said, still not fully sure if you were actually in his room, or if his mind was playing tricks on him. Had he finally gone crazy? Had he lost his mind? Had all this waiting and longing for you finally turned his brain to mush?

You watched Raph for a moment, before finally moving to his bed, taking a seat next to him. This all felt strange. These kind of quiet moments between you and Raph had been a rarity for these past two years. Normally Raph could not even wait less than a minute, before he would jump at you. But now he was just sitting there, watching you with wide eyes, fearing that you would blow up in smoke and disappear. But the feeling of the mattress dipping as you sat down, and your scent in the air told him the truth. You were really there.

“How are you doing?”, you asked, with a small smile on your face that made Raph’s heart melt.

“Yes”, Raph said, a hesitant smile forming on his lips. “Especially now that you’re here”. His smile faltered for a moment, before he reached out with his good hand, and took yours. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I should have told you he was home…”

“It’s okay”, you whispered, bringing your other hand up to sooth the back of Raph’s hand, your fingers slowly stroking and making shapes on his skin, sending shivers down his spine. “I forgive you, Raphael”. Raph stared at you in confusion, not sure if he could believe the words that had left your mouth. Yet, you still sat there and smiled at him, your fingers ever so slowly gliding across his skin. “Though I felt really hurt, I do think I understand why you did it”.

“Why?”, Raph asked.

“You feared that I would go back to him, didn’t you?” You turned his hand over, before continuing your shapes on his palm. “That I would leave you as soon as I heard he got home?” You took Raph’s silence as an answer. “I don’t blame you, Raph. I really don’t. And I’m sorry that I yelled at you”.

“I deserved to be yelled at”, Raph sighed, looking away from you. “I was an idiot, to both you and Leo. A jerk. I shouldn’t have done or said those things”.

You placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face to look at you, a warm genuine smile meeting him. “Like I already told you, I forgive you, Raph. And I know Leo well enough to know he’ll forgive you too”. Your thumb stroked his cheekbone. “It's all going to be okay”.

Raph leaned into your touch, savoring the feeling. “You’re amazing, (Y/N). I don’t deserve someone as good as you”.

“Then I guess it’s too bad I’ve decided to stay with you”, you smiled, your face getting closer and closer to his. Raph’s heart started rising once more, and he felt his palm getting sweaty. His eyes glued to your lips as they came closer. “What do you say, Raph? Will you have me?”

Raph did not answer you. Instead he crashed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, just like he had done so many times before. Fuck he had missed this feeling so much. Your soft tasty lips, and the small sounds that came from them. There was no way you did not know how crazy you were driving him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, as you hungrily kissed him back, moaning softly as your tongues started dancing together. You wasted no time taking your hoodie and top off with the help of Raph’s good hand, letting your nipples harden in the cold air of Raph’s room, before you just as eagerly started pulling your joggers down your hips, leaving you in a pair of red thongs. Raph could feel his head spin at the sight and the strong scent of your arousal.

A bit harshly, Raph pushed you onto your back before climbing on top of you, roughly grinding his hips against your dripping core, feeling the soaked fabric of your underwear against his pulsing cloaca. How good he was going to fuck you. After such a long time of waiting, he would have you screaming like never before, until the only thing you could remember was his name, and the feeling of his dick buried deep inside of you-.

“Ouch! Shit”, Raphael breathed, grabbing on to his still injured arm, pain painted across his face. He had accidentally put too much weight on his arm, now causing his arm to act up.

“It’s okay”, you said, leaning onto your arms, a mischievous smile on your face. “Maybe this time it’s my turn to be in control”.

“Maybe it is”, Raph said, a small smile making its way to his lips.

Raph followed your lead, and turned over to lay on his back. He watched as you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. Raph’s good hand found its way to your hips, where he softly stroked your love handles with his thumb. Sure, he had had you on top of him before, but never like this. It had usually been with you lying almost limb against him as a moaning mess, your arms loosely hanging around his neck as he held you close, and arm around your back and one around your hip as he thrusted wildly into you. But this was different. You sat on top of him in full control, looking down at him, as he laid there, all to your mercy. It was a new but welcomed feeling, that Raph was surprised he hadn’t tried out with you before.

The smile on your face as you looked down at him sent his heart into flames. You slowly started rolling your hips against Raph, causing him to throw his head back with his eyes shut, a moan escaping his mouth. You bit your lip at the sound. You had never heard such a needy moan from the red clad turtle, feeling your panties getting even more soaked. But those sounds that were flowing from Raph’s lips, gave you an idea.

“Have you missed me?”, you asked, lifting yourself from Raph’s cloaca. This caused Raph’s eyes to snap open, staring to the point where your hips had been connected, burning need shining in his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve missed you!”, Raph moaned, lifting his hips to meet yours, only for you to move up even further, causing him to huff out in frustration.

“What if I asked you to show me, how much you have missed me?”, you asked innocently, letting a finger slowly slide over his cloaca, causing Raph to whimper slightly under you.

“I’ll do it!”, Raph breathed, his chest moving as he took heavy breaths. “How ever you want me to show you, I will!”

Raph watched in anticipation as you lifted yourself even further from him, before slowly working your thong off. He could feel his mouth watering as he felt yet another wave of your arousal against his nose. It didn’t take long before your red thong was laying somewhere on Raph’s floor, and you moved further up Raph’s torso. Once your core was hovering above his chest, Raph realized what you wanted him to do, and he smiled, grabbing your ass with his good hand, before scooting a little down the bed, so you had plenty of space for your legs above his shoulders. You could feel his breath against your thighs as you hovered over his face, your fingers gracing the top of his head.

“Are you going to eat me out good?”, you asked innocently, a mischievous smile plastered over your face.

“Yes”, Raph breathed out, trying to pull you down onto his face with one hand. “Please just let me do it, (Y/N)”.

Raph’s begging went straight to your core. With a delighted hum you lowered yourself onto his face, letting out a moan as his tongue started to move in circles around your clit.

“You’re doing so good, Raph”, you breathed, watching his face work under you, feeling his tongue flick against your clit. He hummed against your folds, the vibration causing you to moan out loud. You took Raph’s good hand and moved it from your ass to your breast, where he started to play with your nipple, as his tongue found your entrance. You started grinding against his face as his tongue thrusted into you, your moans and the wet sounds filling the room.

As Raph continued to work his magic tongue on you, you turned your upper body and reached out your arm so you could let your fingers reach his cloaca once more. You felt Raph jolt slightly under you, moaning against your core once more, as your fingers slowly found their way into his slit, teasing his opening.

You felt the familiar feeling build up in your stomach, letting you know that your peak was getting close. Raph’s tongue sped up, continuously moving in and out of you, as he slowly felt himself drop into your hand. Your legs shook around his head, letting Raph know that you were getting close. But before he could get you pushed over the edge, you moved from his wet face, moving back down his torso. Raph leaned onto his good arm, his face glistering with your wetness in the light, and watched you as you hovered over his arching dick, using your hand to line it up against your entrance, his pre-cum slowly being smeared over your opening.

“You’re fucking beautiful”, Raph mumbled, before laying back on his shell, so his hand could glide down your side. With a chuckle you leaned forward and captured Raph’s lips once more. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue. Raph moved his hand from your side to your head, deepening the kiss, just as you started to slide down on him. Raph broke from the kiss with a moan, looking down to where he ever so slowly disappeared into you. You whimpered slightly, bracing yourself with your hands on Raph’s plastron, before you continued further down his shaft, feeling him stretching you out. Raph cursed out loud several times, almost getting dizzy at feeling.

You continued down until you had taken him all the way, leaving both of you breathing heavily, taking in what the two of you had been missing for what felt like an eternity. Once you had adjusted to his size, you slowly started lifting yourself up his shaft, before lowering yourself once more. Raph once again threw his head back, moaning out in pleasure as you slowly increased the speed. You had never seen Raph like this before. Laying under you like a moaning and whimpering mess, mumbling incoherent things, that only served to make your heart pumping faster. This was something you could get used to.

You stopped for a moment so you could adjust the angle of your legs, causing Raph’s head to shut up, staring at you with pleading eyes.

“Please don’t stop, (Y/N)”, Raph begged, raising his hips under you eagerly.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the terrapin, pushing his hip down onto the mattress once more. “Don’t worry, Raphie, I won’t”.

Raph moaned out loud at the nickname, before you started moving on him again. His breathing became heavier as he felt his own peak inching closer, his hand feverishly grabbing onto your thigh. You felt your own high coming closer again, causing you to speed up your movements further, fighting through the mild burning in your leg muscles. Behind you, you could feel Raph’s legs move restlessly, and his hip frantically thrusting up against you, as his orgasm washed over him.

“Yes!”, he moaned out, his hips buckling up against you, his eyes closed shut, pleasure painted all over his face, as he started shutting white robes inside of you. “I fucking love you, (Y/N)!”

That was just what you needed before your own orgasm hit, causing you to fall against his plastron, moaning and panting as you pulsated around him, milking the rest of his orgasm out of him.

Raph wrapped his arm around you as the two of you layed there, getting back your breath. That was where you turned your head towards him and placed a tender kiss upon his lips, before giving him a smile that lightened up his world, along with the words he had always wanted to hear with your beautiful voice; “I love you too, Raphael”.

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sturnzyolo · 6 months ago

Text

Shadows

Matt Sturniolo x fem reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing, a little eerie scenery, crying, stress, bullying mention, comfort, anxiety, and slight obsession (anything else will be added in later parts)

slight summary/teaser: reader feels a significant connection to a particular classmate of hers, her teacher's favorite student. One day, when on her way home, she hears something.

⚠️ my first ever fic so don't hate if it's absolute shit although I take honors english + I will NOT be writing any smut, (sorry u horndoggaroonies) bc I believe my digital footprint is terrible as is, so. let's not add onto it!

(This part is mainly created on my computer so if anything's fucked up ill fix it on my phone)

PART 1

3rd person POV?

Matt didn't understand why he was so favored in his calculus class, he wasn't a nerd, although he seemed like one with his glasses and button-ups. It wasn't like he got every answer right, no not at all. He barely even paid attention in class, his mind wanders instead.

Mr. Robinson has always been overly kind to Matt, he would have him stay after class or during passing period just to talk about how Matt was doing. Matt would constantly get a run down about Mr. Robinson's son having terrible anxiety. Maybe that's why he was so easy on Matt and favorited him, he most likely just reminded his teacher of his son, which seems more like pity. Matt usually would find this behavior odd, most teachers didn't even know Matt was in their class til he asked to go to the nurse, bathroom, office, or if there was any group project, he'd always be picked last by some group who didn't have enough members.

He noticed y/n looking at him in class, only from time to time of course, he found it weird how someone could be paying attention to him, then again he just thought she was making fun of him in her head.

Bullying wasn't like it was in the movies, for Matt, it was just whispers and stares. Kids would laugh as he passed, most called him the teacher's pet if they shared calculus with him. He mainly stuck to himself, somedays he didn't even show up, if it was just staying at home to do work online or going to an early therapy session.

Y/N POV

May 13th, 2024

(let's pretend their 18, in their senior year in 2024)

A dreadful Monday morning, Matt was wearing a collared white and blue striped button up with dark tan cargo pants. I watched him walk up to his seat in calculus class, nobody spoke to him except Mr. Robinson, giving an overly cheerful, "Goodmorning Matthew" as he headed in. Matt only muttered a tired "morning" as he threw his backpack next to his desk and leaned into his chair while he sat.

Class went as normal throughout his lecture. Honestly, I could've fallen asleep, for once I understood the material, so I found paying attention quite useless.

"Matthew what's the answer to page 347 question 9?" Mr. Robinson said abruptly

I practically jumped out of my seat, he never called on Matt, and I was shocked he finally did. I looked over to see Matt, knocked completely out of his daze, I guess he didn't expect the sudden call out either.

Matt fiddled with his pencil nervously as Mr. Robinson waited for an answer, yet he was only met with "Um's" and "Uh's" out of Matt.

I kicked Matt's ankle gently, I covered my mouth loosely as I whispered the answer, which I had to quickly figure out. I felt awkward in the moment just watching it, so I couldn't bare it lasting any longer.

Matt nervously repeated my words with stumbles, which I was even shocked that it was correct. Mr. Robinson seemed proud with a nod and a slight smile "Correct, amazing work Matthew"

Even with the praise he still seemed nervous, he was still anxious from the awkward occurance that had all the eyes laid onto him.

He turned back to me slightly, whispering a soft "thank you" before he sat up and tried to compose himself

"No problem" I said back quietly, although my voice was practically a loud speaker to Mr. Robinson, who almost instantly snapped his cold gaze towards me

"Ms. Y/L/N stop the talking back there or you're going to the office" he demanded in a very threatening tone

I never left it alone whenever I was unfairly called out, Mr. Robinson knew this, and I swear he did it to get a rise out of me.

"Sir I wasn't even talking!" I called out

"Well you are now so zip it or you're out." He argued

I scoffed "You always target me, I barely even opened my mouth sir, besides you shouldn't talk to a student that way if you're always pushing us to respect you when you don't even return it!" I don't know why I argued, it's pointless and I knew that

"I can talk to you however I like, get out of my class!" He yelled. I sighed and packed my things before throwing my bookbag over my shoulder and walked straight out of class. I gave Mr. Robinson a glare but he wasn't even looking, I dont know what I did for him to hate me but love Matt.

I stepped out into the hallway and slumped down the wall midway to the office, I didn't want to go. Besides nobody would even notice or care. I heard the classroom swing open, I quickly stood up thinking it was Mr. Robinson. But it wasn't.

Matt came out instead, "why's he out here" I thought, I decided it was a perfect chance to finally speak to him

"Shit you scared me, I thought you were the teacher" I said as I looked at him with a slight smile

"Oh sorry I didn't mean to scare you, uhm but thank you again for helping me back there with the question." Matt said lowly in somewhat of a nervous mumble

"No worries, I could tell you looked a bit lost. So why does Mr. Robinson favor you so much out of everybody, I was just curious." I finally was ready to hear the answer, I always thought they maybe were related somehow but then again it didn't seem like it and the school would separate them anyway.

"Uh well I think it's cause I remind him of his son, I barely even know the answer to that. I find it just as weird as everybody else does, people think I'm a teachers pet because of it." He admitted as he nervously tugged as his clothes, which I noticed.

"Oh, well I should probably go to the office since Mr. Robinson's most likely going to call them and ask if I showed up, bye matt, I'll see you in class" I said

"Bye y/n, im sorry for getting you in trouble" the last half of what he said barely was audible to me with the quiet tone he used as I walked away to the office

I already have an idea of where this story is leading & I'm guessing it'll only take at most 4 parts to get there, I just feel bad stuffing one part with so much. Also if the writing & dialogue suck it's bc I rushed this SORRY 😔

THIS PART IS RLLY BORING I PROMISE THE NEXT IS SM BETTER‼️

PART 3 OUT NOW

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #fluff #fiction #matt sturniolo x reader #nerdy matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #y/n

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st4rgzer · 1 year ago

Note

heyy i love your fics, like actually you have talent but anyways i have a really specific request so... can you please write something really fluffy where y/n is scared of needles, like she litterally can faint. so she has to go to the doctor (like get vaccine or something) and shes so anxious and afraid and she asks matt (you choose if they are dating or just friends yet) to drive her there and he agrees. she is trying to keep her cool but when she sees the needle and realizing what is going to happed she gets really stressed and like start to panic and matt try and calm her down? can you do it please? also i ADORE youre song fics.

NEEDLES matt sturniolo

summary: Matt goes with you to your dreaded appointment

genre: fluff!

cw!: needles!!!!!

a/n: hi love ty sm for requesting, i’m sorry if it isn’t exactly what you asked for? but i hope you like it, i am also deadly afraid of needles so this was hard to get through😭 (and i really really appreciate you like my song fics<3)

“Matt can we please reschedule the appointment please” I begged, tugging on his arm as he took a can of soda out the fridge.

“I’m sorry, baby, but you already postponed like, 3 times, plus i’ll be right there with you, okay?” He said before opening the can and sipping, then placing it on the counter, diverting his attention to his distressed girlfriend

“everything is going to be fine, we’ll go shopping after, get some food, whatever you want” He cupped my face as he tried to convince me not to fret, reassuring me that, despite my persistent stubbornness and fear of needles, I would be completely fine. I somewhat believed his words, although I think that thats just the effect of Matt being Matt.

I sighed and dropped my head to the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know, I’m just nervous, I know it’s stupid” I mumbled, my muffled words being hard to understand.

“Hey, look at me” He gently held my chin up as a slight pout formed on my face, earning a small grin from him.

“I’m going to be there, it’s just a small moment, nothing more” His words repeated like a mantra in my brain “a small moment, nothing more” I hoped it was just that, an instance.

I never knew why I was cursed with the fear of needles, I just was, ever since I was a little kid, the mindset kind of just stayed with me throughout all my life.

That night I slept uneasy, In Matt’s arms, which helped my situation slightly.

……

I cursed under my breath as the moment came, sat in Matt’s car, googling all the posible breathing techniques, anything that could take my mind off it just a little.

My grip on Matt’s hand became more and more tensed as we got out of the car and approached the doctor, I felt my heartbeats in my throat, and Matt sensed the discomfort in my steps.

“hey, I promise it’s okay” He whispered in my ear, placing a petal kiss on the crown of my head. I took a deep breath, and nodded, before stepping into the dreadful room where I hadn’t been for a long time.

As I sat down on the chair, I felt the heat rise to my whole body, making my hands sweaty, despite it being the middle of winter.

The nurse was friendly enough, I think I would’ve thought she was nicer if she wasn’t going to be actively piercing my skin with a needle.

“okay sweetheart, it’ll just be a pinch” She smiled at me, giving me the kind of comfort you get when an elderly woman smiled at you on the street. That helped distract me for approximately 5 seconds, before returning to taking deep breaths.

“Look at me, don’t look at your arm” Matt cautioned me, fighting to meet my gaze as I looked concerned at the lovely nurse disinfecting the spot that would later be punctured. (dramatic asf)

I hesitantly looked at him, founding some sort of consolation within the familiar smile. I decided to start tracing every detail with my eyes, trying to let my mind wander somehow.

I was enjoying finding new spots and freckles, curves, specs in his eyes, new things to admire . As absurd as it sounds, it surprisingly distracted me enough. My breath hitched and I winced, but when the needle finally made contact with my skin, and came out, it wasn’t as bad as I anticipated.

“Well done my love” He congratulated me, rolling my eyes at the embarrassment of being celebrated like a little baby, and to be fair, I did act like that, but I was enjoying the treatment.

Before getting into the car, he kissed me, wrapping his arms around my waist, leaning against the hood of the car.

“Thank you for putting up with me being a scaredy cat” I mumbled, leaning my head against his chest.

“I’m happy to do so, and I’m keeping my promise on taking you out for lunch and shopping” He grinned at me as a smile started forming on my face, knowing there was no point on trying to convince him not to buy my all these fancy things, he’s too stubborn.

He opened the car door for me and put on my seatbelt, insisting that I don’t move my arm for 2-5 business days, even though the shot was on my non dominant hand. Who am I to decline this princess treatment?

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @gabbylovesreading @strnlsblog @strniolo @ssturniolo @sturniolol @stvrni0lo

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo image #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo

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safrona-shadowsun · 1 month ago

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Daily Writing Challenge 2024

November DWC, Day 6 Words: Crack/Positive

@daily-writing-challenge

On some nights, Safrona reserved a confession booth not to invite others to play the Game of Secrets, but to isolate herself from the eyes of most others. The stress of Dalaran’s collapse had only started a continuous thread of anxiety that ran through her every waking moment of late. It reached her in dreams with memory, laced with possibility and nightmare both, robbing her of sleep.

Life had become a gift of recent years, allowing her to build her professional life into a branching success, the start of a legacy to be proud of. People spoke the title “Courier’ with a respect the world never quite gave the role before, and Safrona felt right to say that her tireless work had in large part given birth to that respect.

A soulsinging haunt of a man had found her burning mess of a heart and made a Home of it, anchoring her to a love that felt like a beloved worship. He made her feel a comfortable joy she did not think she could be allowed in this life, and then built a place of belonging for her with the Sojourn, another element she never thought she could have. Her life had been built upon borrowings in so many ways, it was another deep joy to feel she was an integral part of the world.

Joys of completion, happiness, comfort…a cycle she silently dreaded that could be at its end, as history seemed to inevitably deliver her to. The universe seemed darkly dedicated to remind her that she was a Blight on the world, and belonged to nothing but the unseen spheres of the Great Dark Beyond. The decimation of Dalaran seemed the first sign, the spinning fragments of her own history trying to weave together and tear apart in her mind like a tapestry remaking itself again and again. She wound her fingers tight around a shot of Darkmoon Bourbon she had toyed with as her mind swirled with apprehensions and drank deep, hoping its sweet burn would numb her into a calm, and fill the cracks of her faltering professional veil. Whether Courier, Harvester or Safrona Shadowsun, she wanted no one to see her this way.

Regardless, her thoughts were felt by those that loved her most.

youtube

Music started in a slow rhythm on the live stage, a very familiar slow arrangement that gently permeated her scattered, anxious line of thought, and lifted her into a cadence she had taken the stage with before. Safrona’s lips spread against the cold glass in a sighing smile, a humored breath of gentle knowing, gratitude for the well-loved fingers that plucked the melody for her on his guitar, gratitude for the band behind him that played along. She found herself nodding in time, focusing on the voiced humming, a melody that set a warm tone that was a nostalgic grace, and a plaintive plea for peace.

…only she was not the singer humming in perfect succession, on the stage. When the notion finally struck her, Safrona rose from her booth, parting through the red velvet curtains that hid her with an intense curiosity. There her husband was with his beloved cherry wood guitar on his knees, strumming along in pinstriped black finery, his face shadowed by the old world class of his tall hat. The band behind him played the simple melody with dedicated vibe, swaying in time with its swinging notes.

And the young Sin’dorei woman that had taken the stage by microphone, dressed in a gorgeous wine colored evening gown, met her eyes in recognition. The singer’s voice fluttered with a brief excitement through her humming sequence, but she recovered quickly as she took another breath and continued humming the melody beautifully. With a matured grace, the songstress extended her arms with flowing address toward Safrona as she swayed gently to the slow, lounge-like beat. The familiar humming was touched with a nuance of emotive expression Safrona could never have achieved herself without the use of words, moving her at the soul, much like her husband had learned to with his own talents. Listening on until the slow end, her eyes did not leave the young singer until she realized they were brimming with tears, feeling a strange surge of pride.

A gentle hope had been left like a veil over the audience, and even Safrona’s torrent of dark thought was lifted to a more positive plateau. She had not yet spoken a word to Serenas Dawnsinger - perhaps for the 3 years since the girl reached out she did not know how to - but now her daughter had apparently found her again, against all odds, against all doubt.

There would be too many questions perhaps - some of what Safrona did not know how to begin to answer. But in seeing the young songstress wear her own wine colors, smiling so eagerly at her as she awaited on the stage among a wash of applause, the worry about the world at large and its dark portents seemed to fade for Lady Shadowsun for this relieving moment. Maybe they all did deserve these kindnesses, these little fortunes and joys after the hell they had been through. This...love.

{ Referencing @thefirstperished . And introducing a new character, over at @dawnsinging }

#safwriting #Elysian Sojourn #stories #Safrona Shadowsun #Serenas Dawnsinger #novemberdwc2024 #Youtube

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the-final-sif · 1 year ago

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A thing a lot of people need to learn, is when you have a specific task or action that causes you an undue amount of anxiety and/or mental effort; take a moment and consider how often you interact with that thing in a positive light.

Like, phone calls and emails. Stop for a moment and ask yourself; when was the last time you just called a friend to talk? Not on discord, on your actual phone? Or just made a phone call for something that wasn't at least moderately stressful? If the only time you're making phone calls is doing something that requires a lot or mental effort or stress, of course your brain is going to associate phone calls with mental effort and stress! That's just your brain accurately understanding the situation.

Similarly, when was the last time you wrote an email to a friend in a semi-formal style? When was the last time you sent an email for something that wasn't stressful? When was the last time you wrote an email in a moderately professional fashion for something that wasn't either work or school? If you experience a lot of anxiety or high mental effort for emails, odds are the answer is it's been awhile. No wonder you hate writing emails, what reason have you given your brain to not hate it?

Obviously, every case is different, but if you find yourself constantly dreading or getting really anxious about tasks like phone calls or emails, or anything of the sort, try to give yourself some positive, easy experiences alongside the stressful ones.

For phone calls, call a friend! Talk for a couple of minutes about pets or a project and then be done with it! Make it fun and light!

For emails, swap emails with a few friends and try to keep up exchanging normal, semi-formal emails with them. It doesn't have to be super long or serious, just general little life updates will do. But try to keep the writing style to something near what you'd use in professional emails.

It won't magically fix everything, but I do think a lot of people seriously under estimate the amount of good that a bit of positive reinforcement can do for your brain. And underestimate how much more mentally taxing stuff gets when you only have negative associations for it. Your brain is trying very hard, but it is only meat soup, and it can only do so much with the ingredients it's given.

#sif speaks #actuallyadhd #actually adhd #life psa #sif advises

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youngstarfishphilosopher · 22 days ago

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Danse Macabre

Decided to write some Haunted Mansion 2023 stuff that isn't my RH Au. So here's some pre-movie fanfiction.

This was supposed to go out on Halloween. But I've had a really stressful last couple of weeks with school and all that junk. Anyways, happy reading! 🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Summary: The first week of staying in the afterlife has come to a close for the newest ,sorrowful spirit by the name of WilliamGracey. That being so, the Hatbox Ghost decides to "check up" on his favorite toy to torment.

Pairing: William Gracey & The Hatbox Ghost

WARNINGS ⚠️ : Grief, Sadism, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Enslavement, Violence, Physical Abuse, Forced Dancing, Implied Suicide, The Hatbox Ghost is a warning in it of itself to be completly honest, Poor Gracey is not having a good time.

Word count: 4.6k

Every night when the clock struck the thirteenth hour, all ghosts of the manor would flee from the ever-dark presence of the Hatbox Ghost. At least, those who were allowed to flee did; A ghost by the name of William Gracey did not have such a luxury.

He should have heeded the warnings of Leota and stopped when he had the chance; Not having listened to the enticing, addictive, yet always deceitful words of the dark spirit. But it was too late now. It had already been too late the moment the bottle of arsenic was raised to his lips by his very own hand, sealing his fate for all eternity.

And now in the ghost world, he wandered.

He wandered up and down the mansion with a heavy heart and anxious soul as the chiming of the grandfather clock grew ever closer; All the mortals in the manor were now sound asleep and for the time being, for the most part, blissfully unaware of the demonic horrors that lurked inside the home. Meanwhile, there were other spirits just like himself- trapped, roaming the manor.

It was all his fault.

There was only one minute left now.

He knew no other spirits were hiding in the hallway where he resided; They had all gone elsewhere. Many of them had quickly understood the pattern of the home's new master, and, even more so, understood that poor William Gracey would be the main target of his torment for at the very least a long while. So they found it best to avoid the mansion’s freshest soul when the upcoming arrival of the dark spirit drew near.

The loud chiming of the grandfather clock eventually began to echo throughout the mansion’s halls, bringing great despair and helplessness to all who heard it. William could perfectly picture his fellow remaining spirits who had been brave enough to stay out for a moment more, fleeing to find a place to hide; Terrified of what would happen if the demon arriving was to give them his utmost attention.

William tried to follow in their example. But as the clock continued emitting its dreadful sounds, the sorrowful spirit found himself stuck.

His body was heavy.

It was as if there were multiple invisible chains locked around him, keeping him bound in the same spot with no ability to move his feet whatsoever. The more freedom he tried to gain, the less he acquired as the binding felt tighter and more painful with each attempt to break away from whatever grip this force had on him. But as the final chime of the grandfather clock came and went, William finally gave in to his entrapment and stopped fighting his bondage.

Fighting was no use. He had become completely immobile from the waist down, and a change in atmosphere was now evident as overwhelming darkness engulfed the hall; Black fog quickly crept in and spread itself along the floor; The sound of a cane striking the ground sounded in his ears. Then again . . . and again . . . the sound becoming closer with each strike.

William’s shoulders tightened on instinct as the sound filled his ears. It came from every direction and he did not know whether to anticipate the oncoming demon to appear in front of him or behind him. But then the noises stopped entirely, which, in all honesty, was even less of a comfort; His grip on the lantern he always carried with him also tightened as he brought it closer to himself.

A different noise then began to ring through his ears. It was the sound of a beating heart- His heart. It thumped violently in his ribcage, and at such a speed that William- if he had still been a mortal man- very well would have assumed for his heart to suddenly stop entirely and for he himself to topple over-dead; The organ wearing itself out to the point of dysfunction.

“ Ahh . . . Mr.Gracey . . .” A dark echo suddenly spoke up from behind him; the smallest amount of amusement present in its’ tone. Every hair stood on end on the ghostly form of poor William Gracey as the darkness around him was now so suffocating that he felt his lungs might burst. “There you are.”

A chill crawled down William’s spine as the words manifested right next to his face and into his ear. The upper part of his body, which was still able to move somewhat, began to tremble. In the corner of his eye, he took notice of the bright light shining from a hatbox; His body tensed even more than he thought possible as he bore witness to the slimy, toothy grin plastered on the head that found its home inside the object.

“ And here I thought you were trying to avoid my company...”

William quickly darted his eyes to the floor. He dared not to look at the cursed entity, for even the sight of him filled the poor spirit with the kind of sorrow and grief that was unavoidable to feel; Grief was something he could not risk showing so easily.

It took William a moment to swallow the lump in his throat; This spirit was not like him nor was he like any of the others. The Hatbox Ghost was completely different- cruel and wrong- bursting with unnatural evil and maliciousness. The closeness of this demon in proximity to William’s own form made it extremely difficult for the poor spirit to keep his composure as he attempted to hold some form of a brave face. For he had only been there a short while and had not yet discovered the sorrowful truth; That it is never wise to fight against the torturous enslavement of the Hatbox Ghost.

Every ghost and ghoul in the mansion would have to learn this lesson at some point; it would surely be the lesson Willliam learned tonight, and his abuser was eager to be the teacher.

“ Hatbox Ghost.” William acknowledged the entity’s presence. His voice did not come off as strong as he had wanted it to be. Rather it was quite small and pathetic sounding.

The voice continued. “ Now now, no reason to be afraid . . . after all . . .”

William let out a small yelp as his form was suddenly yanked backward by a force unseen by any eye; It took his breath away as his balance was lost. “ We’ve known each other for quite a while now, have we not?”

That was a lie.

The Hatbox Ghost had never presented himself to William as anyone but the poor spirit’s dear wife who had been too soon departed from the world; He had conformed to her mannerisms and likeness for a whole year. In truth, he was just as much a stranger as he ever had been before. But William did not dare correct the dark spirit’s statement.

Regaining his balance, William felt the presence of the Hatbox Ghost leave his side in order to travel elsewhere as the dark fog surrounding the room vanished slowly. They were in the ballroom now, but it was completely barren of people- man or ghost. There was nobody there; Nobody eating and conversing at the long table, no music being played on the organ, and no one gracefully dancing across the floor. They were completely alone together- William Gracey and the Hatbox Ghost. And that fact alone worried William to no end.

“ So. Do tell me, Mr.Gracey . . .” The Hatbox Ghost continued to speak. For a split moment, William felt the ever-so-slightest sliver of confidence as he brought his gaze up from the floor to gaze upon the demonic entity.

He was truly ghastly and unpleasant to look at -The Hatbox Ghost. An awful sight to behold. He was a monster dripping with power and vile; A monster much bigger and grander in stature than William, even as he was hunched over slightly and with his limp leg. Despite his horrid physical features, the Hatbox Ghost wore extremely rich attire; It was clear he had been an extremely wealthy man in his past life. That was, if he ever was even a human to begin with; William had always held a slight suspicion that his tormenter had been born from the very depths of hell itself and, in turn, had never once walked the earth as a mortal.

Where the dark spirit’s head should have been, was instead a tall, floating black tophat. On his shoulders, a long cape dragged along the floor; In his left hand was his cane that helped support his disabled body; The top of the cane was seemingly made out of gold, and what looked like human faces were carved into it, contorting in sorrow and agony; their features were exaggerated and stretched in order to show their horror to the fullest extent- screeching- groaning out in pain.

In the Hatbox Ghost’s right hand, was his black hatbox which held his very own head; It was a head cursed to be trapped there until the darkest hours of the night struck. William watched as the demon turned his back away from him and made his way to the grand table. “You have been here in the ghost realm for a week now if I am not mistaken, Yes?”

“ Yes.” William’s voice remained small and soft. He watched his new master in awful astonishment. “I believe I have. . . ”

“Hm.” Setting his cane to rest on the closest dining chair, the Hatbox Ghost placed his hatbox down onto the table as his head disappeared from its confinement; It then soon reappeared atop the shoulders of his cursed form. Letting out a long growl of discomfort, he slowly tilted his head from side to side in order to allow his neck to get well-adjusted with the new weight. The demonic entity could feel the horror-filled eyes of William Gracey on him, and he reviled in such delight from it; Bringing fear to others filled his black soul with great pride.

“ And the others?” The Hatbox Ghost asked, looking over his shoulder. William’s courage was immediately snuffed out by the fierce gaze of two deep, cold yellow eyes looking upon him with utmost intent; He felt as though he were nothing but prey being stared down by a ravenous predator. William’s eyes immediately darted back down to the floor. “Have you met them yet? Been conversing with some of them, perhaps?”

William took a moment to answer. “ I . . . I-ive met a few of them.”

“Good . . . Good . . .” In the blink of an eye, The Hatbox Ghost had vanished from his spot at the table and had now found himself in front of William’s trapped form. William himself only wished to just disappear at that moment; Perhaps he would somehow pass out. At least then he would have some moment of peace; It had been months since he had felt real peace in any sense of the word.“Care for a dance, Mr.Gracey?”

The question took poor William aback as he responded with only a feeble “ what?”

“ I think you heard me well enough.”

William suddenly dropped his lantern as his arm quickly reacted to the painful grip of sharp claws plunging themselves deep into his wrist. The other claw immediately followed, wrapping around his waist and digging into his back. He let out a loud yelp of pain as his body was pulled to the larger spirit’s chest.

“ Wa-wait! Wait!” William frantically stuttered out.

The Hatbox Ghost’s smile merely widened at every frightened movement and sound of the poor spirit at his mercy- or more so lack thereof. It was clear that he was relishing in William’s panic. “Now, now . . . No need to be shy. You’re rather good at dancing, are you not?”

He cocked his head to the side slightly as William tried to stammer something back out at him, making him let out a chuckle. This immediately shut the weaker spirit up.

“ Whatever’s the matter?” He taunted the figure below him with fake sympathy. “Have nothing to say, do you? That’s just fine then.”

William felt slight relief as the sharp, leathery claw holding his wrist loosened its iron grip to where it was no longer piercing his translucent flesh; Though the other claw remained painfully digging deep into his back. If he were still mortal, blood would have been spilling out of his body. But there was no blood to draw; There would only be nasty bruises that slowly faded away within a few hours surrounding empty holes where the claws pierced him.

Tears were threatening to form his eyes, but the spirit knew he had to try and hold them in; He could not give the demon the thing he wanted. At least not so easily if he could help it.

“ Why dancing . . . e-exactly?” His voice found the bravery to stutter out.

“ Why not?” The dark spirit responded to William’s sudden courage; It was truly humorous. “It’s such a lovely night after all. It would do you some good, you know- To partake in something. Not just sulk and sob in a pile of your own self-pity as you always do.”

The first thing out of the Hatbox Ghost’s mouth was another lie that William did not correct; It was not a lovely night. Outside, a great storm stirred as heavy rain beat against the mansion’s exterior. Strong winds blew as they tried to force the windows open, and strange, purple lightning flashed as thunder roared.

Looking around for a moment, William caught the dim light of his lantern which had fallen a few inches away from him. He attempted to try and reach for it with his free hand. However, the hand that he reached with was swiftly grabbed by the same claw that entrapped his other hand; both hands were now bound together in the same, single grip. His captor watched for a few moments as William struggled like a little rabbit trying to free itself from a hawk.

“ You seem . . . Tense. . . Mr. Gracey.” The Hatbox Ghost stated. His slimy grin was still present as ever on his disturbing, gray face.

You want something from me, William wished to say. He knew what the Hatbox Ghost wanted. It’s what the evil spirit always wanted; How exactly do you plan on acquiring it by doing this?

Suddenly, the organ began to play, but nobody was playing it as far as William could tell; His eyes wandered over his shoulder as he attempted to turn his head a bit in order to get a better look. Sensing the smaller spirit’s confusion, The Hatbox Ghost spoke up as he let go of William’s left hand. And against William’s own will, that same hand moved to gently grab his tormenter’s shoulder,

“ Well? Shall we then?”

It was not as if William had any sort of choice; Even now with his legs becoming freely mobile once again, he could hardly recognize it happening due to the iron grip forcibly moving his body. The pace at which they moved across the floor was slow, yet elegant all the same, even with the demon’s limp; The mounting sound coming from the ominous music of the organ and the raging storm filled the room.

“ You did this with her quite often, if I’m not mistaken . . .” The Hatbox Ghost calmly stated. William did not say anything in response, so he kept speaking, “With Elenore, I mean. . . Such a shame really - That the two of you will never be able to do this again.”

William's eyes began to water; a tear or two slowly ran down his face; The implications of the dark spirit’s words sank deep into his heart as he now had a solid understanding of what was about to happen.

He could only pray it would be over quickly.

“ Yes . . .” The Hatbox Ghost continued. His words dripped into William’s brain like poison, “Quite a shame. I assume it was something the both of you enjoyed. Please . . . enlighten me Mr.Gracey; What exactly was the part that you enjoyed the most?”

“N-no . .. “ William quietly choked out. A lump had begun to form in his throat.

“ Was it that you loved showing off to her; did she merely boost your ego?” The hatbox ghost leaned down; His chilling breath spread along the smaller spirit's neck. It made William violently shiver as the sob he had been trying so desperately to hold in, was forcibly released. “No, that could not be the reason . . . you do not seem like the prideful type . . .”

William could not control the tears which now violently fell from his eyes as he was completely overcome by fear and sorrow. All the sounds around him mixed with the closeness of this demon- the sharp pain of the claws digging into his skeletal, translucent form- it was making him extremely overstimulated.

And the Hatbox Ghost loved it.

He could taste all the grief radiating off William; It was a rather salty sensation, making the craving for it become ever greater the longer it lingered on his tongue and graced his lips; It filled him with an animalistic greed and wanting for more- everything the cowering little ghost in his grasp had, until there was nothing left to take. But he could not do that. Not yet at least.

He knew self-control was the best way to go when it came to William Gracey; the poor spirit was far too easy to degrade and pick apart. There was always a new way to make him sob- to make him submit to the misery. The former master of the mansion had so much sorrow for him to slowly exploit and feast on for what was probably decades to come- a nice long meal. And until the day came when he had finally gained his thousand willing souls - even after that time finally arrived- the fact that remained was quite simple:

William was his.

The pathetic, tortured soul before him, had indeed belonged to him before even putting the bottle of arsenic to his lips that fateful night.

“ Perhaps it was the way she looked in those pretty dresses . . . or was it her lovely eyes?”

“ S-stop it . . .” William pleaded.

“ Or perhaps it was the warmth of her skin . . . her hand in yours . . .” The Hatbox Ghost spirit continued to taunt. William only answered him with a feeble ‘no’.

“No?” Hmmm . . . Well then, I must say Mr.Gracey, You have truly stumped me. . . unless . . .” Something strange began to happen with the dark spirit's voice. It became softer- warmer- lighter and mixed with an undertone of echoing uncanniness. William’s lifeless breath hitched as the familiarity of it quickly sunk in. “Maybe it was her voice . . . Just so sweet and soothing to the ears . . .”

The voice of the demon who now held dominion of the ghost realm was no more. Instead, it was replaced with the replicated voice of William’s wife- Elenore’s voice.

Tears continued to purge poor William’s face as that realization hit him. It had been so long since he had heard his dear wife’s voice- her real voice- not just when he closed his eyes and dreamed of her. He had been so desperate to hear even a moment of it after her passing if he could; He was desperate for anything and everything about her in all honesty. That was the main reason both he and all the other spirits- all the future spirits as well- were now trapped in the mansion, was it not?

It was all William’s fault.

The Hatbox Ghost had realized William’s desperation- his grief- more than likely the very moment passing through the ever-thinning veil of the ghost realm. He would appear in the broken, sorrowful man’s dreams, along with Elenor’s voice, the same as a siren song, along with everything about her- a fanned, copied image of the deceased woman. He had used William’s desperation against him by fully conforming it and twisting it into a tool for his own horrid benefit.

“ Oh, I seem to have struck a nerve,” The Hatbox Ghost continued to speak through the voice of Elenore Gracey, unable to hide his smugness “ I assume I’m correct then.”

William closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down and slow the constant stream of tears running down his cheeks. The voice of his wife continued to talk down to him, but it was muffled now in the midst of all his tormented thoughts. Everything hurt; he just wanted it all to stop.

Make it stop . . .

How could he make it stop?; He could not run, he could not hide; The demon held all power here- it was the Hatbox Ghost’s realm now. A realm for the dark spirit to control, morph, and use to his own liking.

Deep down, William knew he deserved this. It was all his damn fault. . . He needed to separate himself somehow- an inch or maybe two would be enough. Even being just somewhat out of the rough, dominant grasp of his tormentor would help William with all this physical and emotional turmoil. He was completely overwhelmed; he was in a panic and there was nothing more to it. He needed to get away from this . . . Spirit?. . . Demon?... Whatever this thing was! It did not matter! He needed to get away!

It was then in the midst of all his panic, that William suddenly noticed himself slightly stumbling over his own feet. And then it all finally registered; he was in control of his body. Though the upper half of it was still trapped in the grasp of his new, cruel master, his feet were freely mobile and without a huge amount of restraint placed upon them. . . He knew what he wanted to do. But was he willing to risk whatever punishment awaited him if he decided to do it?

The answer to that question was apparently ‘yes’.

William could not tell if it was bravery or stupidity guiding him through his actions - probably both- but there was no turning back now. His mind was already made up.

“ Let . . . Go Of Me!!” He demanded. Even in trying to be assertive, the fear was still fully present in his voice as he spoke. William tightly shut his eyes; Using all his might, he lifted his foot up before forcing it back down as it struck the Hatbox Ghost’s limp leg, making the bigger ghost stagger in surprise for a quick moment.

Both of them immediately halted to a stop. The music from the organ went silent with the only sounds now being that of the storm still going on outside; It had become more violent than before- Rain and wind growing heavier as purple lighting shot around frantically.

William let out a scream of agony as the claw in his back penetrated him deeper- the claw that held his arm sinking itself back into his wrist- piercing him with new marks. His back arched as it happened; his head was thrown back as he was hit with the sudden sensation. Even though he had expected this reaction from the Hatbox Ghost, that did not mean it was at all less painful.

He dared to open his eyes again. And staring back at him were two yellow pupils burning through him- furious.

The Hatbox Ghost did not have an outburst at William’s action; He stood still and remained stiff as a board- only staring at the cowardly ghost in his grasp; It was possibly even more frightening than any sudden outburst in William’s opinion.

As their eyes remained locked on one another, neither of them spoke as tension in the air grew. And again William heard it- That quick thumping of his own, dead heart. He wanted nothing more than for the new master of the realm to just get it over with already. But his tormenter was nothing if not unpredictable- A python waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He could strike at any point and William would not be ready to stop it; The growing anticipation William felt was downright awful. The Hatbox Ghost stared at William with fury on his face, mixed with a combination of disgust and annoyance; He watched the cowering little spirit once again become still- As still as he could get anyhow.

William could not control his mouth- letting out small whimpers of pain and discomfort- his form witching and trembling somewhat around the claws that penetrated him.

Without warning, the claw in William’s back was thrust out with great force and quickness. It caused him to let out yet another scream before he tried to silence himself- His eyes once again closing as his face scrunched and contorted into an unpleasant expression. And it was only then that he realized- without the stability from the claw- just how truly drained his body had become.

“You know, William . . .” The Hatbox Ghost finally spoke- His true voice coming back. And though he spoke calmly, his anger was still fully present. “I’m surprised that you of all people would have the audacity to attempt what you just did. . . “

William’s knees were bent and his feet remained on the floor; He was held up only by his arm which was still entrapped by the Hatbox Ghost’s claw. His left hand then limply fell from the stronger spirit’s shoulder; With very little strength, he lifted said left hand to grasp his right arm and give himself more stability.

He was looking back down to the floor- William Gracey- It was his instinct that caused him to do so. But it was in vain; For it was only a moment before his head forcibly snapped back up to meet his tormentor's stern, piercing gaze.

“ Who thinned the veil.” The Hatbox Ghost asked. When William did not answer, he simply squeezed the spirit’s wrist. William let out another scream as his wrist was easily broken with a violent crunch. His body spasmed and shifted- His hand went limp- The Hatbox Ghost did not care.

“ I suggest you answer my question.” He said. “ Who thinned the veil to the spirit world, William?”

Tears in William’s eyes continued to flow as he tried his best to speak “Me. . .” He admitted. But the Hatbox Ghost had already known the answer to the question. Both of them understood that the dark spirit merely wished for William to admit it out loud. “ It was me . . .”

The Hatbox Ghost then - almost gently- grasped William’s neck with his free claw. William could not help but lean into his uncomforting touch for a moment. It kept his tired body somewhat more station- held him up better and helped keep his form stabilized more than his own faulty, sad attempt.

“ That is correct . . . If anything . . . This is what you deserve, yes?” The dark spirit continued. “ I’m certain all the other spirits residing with us would think so. . . You’re the one who doomed them, William . . .They were at peace, and you took them away from that. Merely to fulfill your own selfish desires . . .”

“ I-I . . .” William went to say something but immediately stopped himself. The Hatbox Ghost was right; He deserved this- All of it- For all those suffering in the mansion now and all those who would soon be suffering down the line.

The Hatbox Ghost let out a dry laugh- void of humor, “ You truly are a pathetic man . . . No wonder Elenore deserted you and left you to rot all by your lonesome. It makes a person wonder if she ever even loved you to begin with . . .”

William said nothing. He did not have the strength nor did he have the energy too. The dark spirit’s words pierced through him like a dagger.

This was all his fault . . .

#alistair crump #hatbox ghost #haunted mansion 2023 #haunted mansion #tragedy #toxic relationship #tw: violence #Alistair Crump is a menace #william gracey #disneys haunted mansion #fanfic #oneshot

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cjsoleil · 6 months ago

Text

Straight From the Tortured Poets Department (Bang Chan x Reader)

Authors note: This is part two of a two part series, part one is right here. You don’t necessarily need to read the first one, but I recommend you do. Enjoy.

Time had gone by quicker than Chan and Y/N would have liked. If Chan wasn’t sure about the girl before, he certainly is now. He met her parents a little less than a month after they started dating, something Chan had been dreading. It was bad enough that he came from next to nothing and only had a shit job at a bar, but not meeting them before dating Y/N must not be doing him any favors.

It’s embarrassing, how nervous he was sitting across from her parents. Living under the circumstances he does, it’s safe to say he’s been in a number of stressful, nerve wracking situations. Despite this, he’s never been more anxious than at that moment.

It was a little out of the blue when Y/N had mentioned that since her parents were back in town, so he had to meet them. When he joked and told her she should give more of a warning, he found that it was unexpected for her too. She didn’t plan on telling her parents about Chan right away, but plans changed the day after her parents came back to town.

“So, what boy have you been hanging out with?” Y/N had nearly spit out her tea when she heard the question.

“What?”

“Marie said you’ve been spending some time with a boy.” Her mom called from the kitchen. Y/N simmered in the question for a bit, and wondered however Marie found out about her and Chan. She had thought back to when San saw her at the drive in and it becomes much more clear. San, despite not seeming like one, is a gossiper. He probably told the boy he always hangs out with, Wooyoung she believes his name is. And word spread as quickly as a forest fire. Luckily, they did not act outrageously. Though she actually had to introduce Chan to them now.

It went better than Chan thought it would. There was no yelling about how a man like him is unworthy of being in their daughter’s sight, and other than the threatening undertone her father had every time they spoke, he’s pretty sure Y/N’s parents kinda like him. Well, her mom likes him at least. On another note, Chan did get lucky. Y/N’s father had handed him a card, confusing him at that moment.

“Tell the secretary at front desk you are meeting me. Be there at noon on Monday. If you’re a minute late, don’t bother.” Chan had been speechless, reading the card. Y/N has never mentioned her father’s business before, so he wasn’t aware that he works at a famous publishing company.

Wait, not work. Owns.

Chan always knew Y/N’s family has money. It drips off the diamonds hanging on her ears and covering her wrists. Still he didn’t think her family was so rich.

Chan thanked the man profusely, repeating and repeating his gratitude so many times it must have been annoying. The company has published a number of works by his favourite artists and offers him a career he would never be able to get otherwise. Chan does not have any education, he never even finished high school. Originally he was concerned about this, but after expressing his worries to Y/N they disappeared.

“Chan dear, that doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t have offered you a job if you couldn’t do it.” Chan didn’t have any more concerns after that.

Y/N’s parents are gone again, her father needing to go to one of the department branches. Her mom always goes with him. That leaves the house to Y/N and Chan. Y/N has only been to Chan’s place once. It’s located in a less than safe area and Chan firmly believes his girl has no business being in such a place. It is a tad overprotective of him, but it can’t be helped.

The two watch a movie on Y/N’s tv. It’s some love story. Chan has never cared for them, but Y/N loves them. So they watch on as the man on screen sets up an elaborate scene to propose to his girlfriend.

“Quite obnoxious isn’t it?” Y/N comments from her spot under Chan’s arm. He looks over to her as he raises his hand to undo Y/N’s hair. She wears it up a lot more often now.

“You’re not into grand gestures?”

“That’s not what I said.” Chan runs his fingers through the girl’s hair, “Though I believe they’re unnecessary.”

“They can be sweet.” Is all Chan says, glancing over at the screen to see the male lead on his knee and the woman yelling yes.

Once the movie is over the two went upstairs to Y/N’s room. Chan is captivated by her collections. Shelves full with records and books.

“I never took you for a hoarder.” Chan comments, making the girl reach over and slap his shoulder, “You take good care of these.”

“Of course.” Y/N sits on her bed, and Chan picks a record, putting it on the record player. Music floods the room and he sits next to the girl.

“So anything special we’re going to do before you go?” Y/N hums, barely wanting to think about how she’s leaving town in a few weeks.

“Everything is special with you Chan dear.” She says it sickenly sweet without a hint of sincerity. He laughs and grabs her face softly, squishing her cheeks.

“You’re such a doll.”

Chan shakes Y/N’s face side to side before leaning in and kissing her pursed lips. It starts as one kiss, then two, and then Chan is holding Y/N’s face in his hands whilst kissing her passionately.

“I think I know.” Y/N whispers when Chan pulls away, nervously looking to the side, “A special thing we can do.” Chan takes a moment to process her words, before his eyes widen.

“Babydoll.” He practically groans the nickname, leaning in and kissing the girl quickly again, “Are you sure?” They have shared many passionate moments, but never went close into… that territory.

“We can wait til marriage- or longer if that’s what you want. Or never. Don’t worry about what you think I want, I only want you to be comfortable.” Y/N smile grows larger as she listens to Chan’s spiel. She places both of her hands on his shoulder, leaning forward.

“Sweetheart.” She stops his rant, “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Patting his face, she leans away and he can clearly see how red her face is, “Wait until marriage? That’s so far away, is it not?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Chan lifts Y/N’s left hand and kisses where the ring will be, “I’d marry you tonight if you wanted.”

“What would my parents think? Their daughter getting married without their knowledge.”

“And having sex out of wedlock is much better?” He laughs as Y/N makes an embarrassed sound and looks away from him.

“Don’t be so blunt.” It only makes him grin harder.

“Didn’t you just try to seduce me?”

“I didn’t- I-“ She sputters and Chan can’t help but press a hard kiss against her cheek.

“Now, to be serious.” He holds both her hands, “Is this something you really want?” “Do you love me Chan?” “More than words can ever express.” “So yes. I do want it.” He sighs, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands with a smile.

“It will hurt. I don’t want it to, but I fear it can’t be helped.”

“What is love without pain?”

“That’s a common misconception.” Chan says, “My love should never hurt you.” Placing a soft kiss at the corner of Y/N’s mouth, he starts to trail down to her jaw and neck. He gives a soft bite to the place below her ear before whispering to her, “So let me ask again. Are you sure?” Y/N’s faint whisper of ‘yes’ is all he needs to hear.

Chan grabs her face and brings her lips to his, hand going through her hair. He hears the girl hum when he bites her lower lip, and forces his tongue inside her mouth. Y/N has to physically push him away when she runs out of air, but he stays close. He moves to the side of her neck, one hand on her thigh. When her skirt starts to ride up, Y/N grabs his hand.

“Sorry.” Y/N smiles sheepishly as Chan pulls away, “Just instinct I guess.” He smiles softly.

“What else?” He tilts his head as she mumbles her answer, cute. “Hm?”

“I’m… embarrassed.”

“Of what? Your body?” He practically scoffs at the damn idea. Faster than Y/N can process, she is lifted to sit sideways on Chan’s lap.

“You can leave your clothes on, if that’s what you want. But don’t do it because you’re embarrassed or ashamed or for some stupid reason like that.” A kiss on one of the red marks on her neck. Since Chan’s hand was released upon placing the girl in her lap, he moves his hand up her thigh. Slowly so he can be stopped. He’s not. His hand reaches the fabric of her underwear and neither can hear the music playing anymore. Chan feels Y/N tense.

“Relax.” He tilts his head and brings the girl into a kiss in a attempt to sway her attention. He slips his hand into the fabric, swallowing her gasp.

As tempted as Chan is, he decides against dipping his finger inside just yet. Instead he lets his fingertips wander, smirking when Y/N lets out a cute little sound. After a while, he pulls his hand from under her skirt. The girl in his lap breathes heavily and Chan grins upon seeing what a effect he has on her.

“That’s nothing babydoll. Poor thing, you really don’t know what you’re in for.” He looks back at his fingers, a shine on them. Making eye contact with Y/N, he smirks before bringing his fingers to his own mouth, licking the wetness off of them and moaning at the taste.

Y/N is absolutely mortified, wishing she could close her eyes but her mind won’t let her. The heat pooling in her stomach is nearly unbearable and every time Chan opens his stupid mouth it gets worse. His deep and raspy voice sends a shiver down her spine. The smirk he wears reminds Y/N of the devil he truly is, rather than the darling she is used to.

Y/N lets out a little shout when Chan suddenly stands. Chan drops her on the bed and climbs on top of her. He cages her head with his elbows and rests his forehead on hers.

“Hey.” He whispers.

“Hi.” She squeaks back.

“You okay?” She nods and when she says ‘yes’ he sits up. He smiles, and his hands start to go up her legs. Slowly, he pulls down her underwear and throws them to the side. He moves down and rests between the girl’s legs. Leaning upwards on her elbows, she looks down at Chan.

“What are you-“

“You trust me baby?” He interrupts before she can ask anything more, “Yes or no, Y/N.”

“Of course I do. Yes, but what-“ Y/N cuts herself off with a moan and her arms collapse, falling back on the bed. The feeling is gone after a moment and she is left wondering what the hell that was.

“What-“ She is cut off again, and for a split second she sees Chan’s head nearly disappeared under her skirt. He pulls back, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Folding the skirt up to Y/N’s hips, Chan returns to his spot. He licks directly over her hole before dipping the tip of his tongue inside. The girl gets louder. She’s never felt like this before. Chan swearing almost made her legs shake, he’s never done that in front of her before. On instinct, Y/N grabs Chan’s hair in her hands and tries to push him away. She doesn’t get away with it, as Chan grabs both hands and pins them on the bed.

“Be a good girl.” And he presses her hands into the mattress slightly for good measure before letting go. This time, he grabs both of Y/N’s legs and rests them on his shoulders. He keeps a strong hold on her thighs and goes back down. Rather than just the tip, he forces most his tongue into her hole, making her cry out.

“Channie!” She clenches the blankets, moan after moan being forced from her lips as Chan dips his tongue inside her, licks and sucks at her clit. Occasionally he will let out a moan of his own, Y/N feels the vibration in her bones. She doesn’t know why he’s doing so though, since this can’t possibly be doing anything to make him feel good. She doesn’t think that hard about it. She can’t really think about anything other than Chan. Unknow to her, Chan is truly having the time of his fucking life eating his girl.

Suddenly a near scream like noise fills the room, and Y/N barely registers that the sound came from her. Chan had put two fingers inside her without warning, kissing her clit. “Oh- oh my god Chan.” She whines and he lifts his head just to show her a dangerous smirk. His mouth is wet and oh this is so embarrassing.

“Isn’t that nice?” He scissors his fingers, “Don’t you feel good?” Y/N doesn’t give a proper and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that, sucking her clit hard, making her cry out. “Words doll.”

“Good.” She pants out moving a hand to pet Chan’s head. He lets her, “So good Channie.” She yells out his name again when he adds another finger. Chest rapidly rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath.

“Fucking hell, you’re so pretty. Pretty girl.” His fingers curl inside her and something about it is different, it makes Y/N grip Chan’s hair so hard tears may have been brought to his eyes while she brings up her other arm and bites down on her forearm to cover up the much to loud sound that comes out of her. “Oh you like that baby?” Chan moves his fingers to touch that spot again, making her whine, “Yeah, I know you do.”

After a few minutes of torment, Chan moves up the bed to kiss Y/N’s lips, up her jaw and to her temple. He moves his thumb to replace where his mouth was previously. It brings a burning feeling to her stomach and her whole body tenses. Y/N reaches out to hold Chan’s wrist and push him away. This time, Chan doesn’t bother moving her hands, the weak pressure on his wrist doing nothing to faze him.

“Chan- Chan I feel-“ The sentence is not finished, the girl shoving her face in the pillow under her head. “What is it?” Chan forces her to look at him with a hand to her chin, “Tell me.” “Feels weird.” Y/N mumbles with a lack of better words to describe it. Chan laughs lightly. “Weird, you say?” He leans down to Y/N’s ear, his whispered words sounding like shouts, “Do you feel like you’re burning baby? Like you’re being held over a fire and forced to feel nothing but the flames kissing your skin?” He places a barely there kiss on her earlobe, leaving her skin red and hot, “Or are you overwhelmed? Are you drowning, with nothing but pure desperation rushing through your vains to get what you need?”

Not a single word was registered by the girl on the bed, Chan knows. He still only smiles as he moves his fingers faster, grabbing her face again to get her attention. “Be a good girl and let it go, I got you.” And Y/N is pulled into a completely different world. At least that’s what it feels like.

Her grip on Chan’s wrist slackens, and he pulls his hand away to see indents of her nails on his wrist. Not that it matters. He focuses on running his clean hand through her hair and dries his other one using the bedsheets.

When Y/N can finally force herself to speak, she doesn’t really know what to say. So the first thing that comes to mind is what is spoken, “That was nice.” In a single second Chan bursts into laughter, leaning his head down onto her shoulder. “Yeah it was.” He agrees, “That was your first time cumming?” Y/N face turns an even darker shade of red as she nods. Chan didn’t have to ask, he just wanted to get an answer. It boosts his ego, being the first and only person to ever make his girl feel like this, “You ready for more?” “There’s more?” Chan can’t tell if she’s being serious but even Y/N doesn’t know. Her eyes are drawn downwards to the front of Chan’s pants and there’s a lot more.

Chan first takes off his shirt, and the sight of his bare torso is not an unfamiliar one to Y/N. He runs hot, and often is not wearing a shirt when they are alone. Still, Y/N can never resists running her fingers along the outline of his chest, down to his stomach and over his abs. While his torso is something the sculptors in Paris can only dream of having as a muse, it’s really Chan’s arms that get her going. Large and muscular, showing just how easy it is for him to throw her around when he wants to. His pants are next, along with his boxers. Y/N refused to look, keeping her eyes on Chan’s face. His hands go up to Y/N’s shirt asking softly if it was alright for him to take it off. The answer is yes, all embarrassment regarding Chan seeing her body gone after what he has just done. Soon, the two are left naked on the bed.

“Stop staring at me.” “An impossible task, beautiful.” Y/N rolls her eyes and lets out a gasp when she feels Chan’s tip inside her. “This is the painful part, but I promise I’ll go slow. Feel free to punch me if you want.” Chan starts to push in and hell it does hurt. Despite being stretched out, Chan’s big, and it hurts. Background to the pain is an undertone of pleasure, and Y/N keeps her hand covering her mouth to muffle her sounds. “Shit. Shit, you feel so good.” Chan moans and presses his lips to her neck. He lets out a small whimper as he unconsciously thrusts forward, bottoming out, “Just- hm- tell me when you’re ready.” He kisses down her neck to her collar bone and top of her chest as he waits for Y/N to ready herself, “I know it hurts. Your body is not familiar with mine, but it will recognize me after tonight. It will understand I belong right here.” He finds one of her hands and interlock their fingers.

A few moments pass, and Y/N taps his shoulder “You-you can move.” Chan smiles and lifts himself up a little, not before pressing a long kiss against Y/N’s lips. “Hold onto me.” Y/N nods and rests her hands on the man’s shoulder blades. He starts slow, sweet as he gently rocks his hips. Soon though, Y/N is tapping her hands on his back and is asking, begging him to give her more. “You want me to fuck you harder, hm?” Y/N moans louder at his word choice. Chan never talks like that in front of her. Always one to behave in front of a lady, like he loves to say. “Please Chan.” Chan smirks, saying something about how his girl is so polite before he starts to pull out completely and thrusting hard.

Y/N scratched up Chan’s back, not having enough conscious to consider that it may be hurting him. Chan welcomes the sting though, he kind of hopes they scar. A physical claim for her to make on him. “It’s amazing, you know?” A particularly hard movement, “Every gasp, every moan. You create poetry without saying a single word. What a talent.”

“Chan. Channie.” She moans out and pushes Chan down to meet her for a kiss. Tears fill her eyes and threaten to fall since she feels so much more sensitive now. He pulls away and kisses the corners of Y/N’s eyes. Sweet, a drastic contrast to how he’s moving. After a few attempts, Chan finds an angle that hits Y/N’s spot, making her muffle a scream in her pillow. “Please more, Chan Chan-“

“Fuck.” Chan clenches his jaw when Y/N tightens around him, feeling just on the edge of release. With a grunt, he wraps his arms around Y/N, one hand holding the back of her head and the other at her lower back as he picks her up. Chan settles her in his lap and doesn’t give her any time to even process the sudden change in position as he grounds himself on the bed and thrusts up into her. Grabbing her waist, Chan pushes Y/N down as he thrusts up, making him go in deeper. “Come on babydoll. Come for me.” Arms wrap around his neck, Chan feels her bite his shoulder and tighten around him, “Atta girl.”

When Y/N comes down from her high, Chan gently pulls out and kisses her, letting her stay seated in his lap. “Chan you didn’t, um…” Y/N doesn’t finish her sentence, blood rushing to her face as Chan stares at her with a smile. He looks a mess, hair messed up, a bite mark on his shoulder and scratch marks on his arms. If he looks like that, she can only imagine how she herself looks. “I don’t think we should start a family until we’re married.” Chan kisses close to the middle of Y/N’s chest, where her heart lies under skin, muscle and bones. “Well-yes, I agree but I mean… can I help you?”

Chan blushes at that moment, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Do you want to?” Y/N affirms that she does, “Okay.” He pecks her lips, “Touch me baby.” Y/N brings her hand to Chan’s chest, kissing his shoulder as her hand goes downwards until her fingertips make contact with Chan’s cock. She touches him carefully, too nervous to do anything more. “Wrap your hand around me.” Y/N obeys, holding Chan in her hand. Chan moans loudly, jerking his hips, he doesn’t know how the fuck he managed to not come inside her earlier, “Shit. Fuck yes, that’s good honey. Move your hand a bit- yeah just like that.” Y/N barely needs to do anything before Chan is cumming, groaning into her neck.

When he feels alive again, Chan wipes off Y/N’s hand and his own stomach with the bed sheet before lying down, bringing Y/N with him. “Are you sure you don’t want to get married tonight?” Chan asks and a laugh echos through the room, over the music playing on the record player, “Ah Nevermind. I don’t have a ring yet.” “Maybe when I come home for the holidays.” “A winter wedding sounds lovely.”

Standing at the train station together, Chan thinks that maybe this was a fraction of the feeling military wives felt while sending their husbands off to war. Not the same, because there is no fear that Y/N will not be coming back, but the point still stands.

“Have you ever been on a train, Chan dear?” “Yes. But not the formal way.” That makes Y/N look at him with a confused expression,

“I used to train hop.” The girl nods looking forward towards the tracks. The autumn wind has just started to come out, messing up both their hair. The sun is setting, giving a warm golden hue to the world around them. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t able to make it.” Y/N shrugs, it’s not a big problem to her. “It’s alright. You’re here.” “Forever.” A voice rings through the speakers, announcing that the next train will arrive soon. “That’s me.” Y/N looks towards Chan, “You gonna miss me Channie?” “Not at all.” He pulls Y/N into a hug as she laughs at him, “I feel as if you are going to war.” Y/N pulls back from their hug, but stays close enough for Chan’s arms to remain around her waist. “School is not quite the same as a battle field.” “Either way, I will miss you just as much.”

Y/N has to look away from him when she feels her eyes water, “Hey, hey. Come here.” Chan wraps his arms around her from behind, swaying as they stand facing the horizon. Normally, Y/N would never allow Chan to display such affection in public, as it isn’t appropriate to do so. This time though, she lets it happen for both their sakes. “You know, one love the sunset when they are sad.” Y/N smiles upon hearing the reference. “Why is that?” “Many different reasons. Maybe because it marks the end, because it brings tomorrow just a little bit closer.” Chan rests his chin on Y/N’s head, “Or maybe it’s because the sky is beautiful at this time.”

They watch the sky until another train arrives. Y/N doesn’t have to say a word as she turns around just for Chan to bring her into a kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck and reaches up on her tiptoes as Chan bends down. It’s not even a deep kiss, but it conveys their feelings all the same.

Together they walk to the train and once onboard, Y/N quickly finds a seat next to the window and sticks her head out the open window. Chan waits just below and holds up his arm. Y/N reaches out and holds his hand. “I love you babydoll.” Is all he says before he places a kiss on the palm of her hand, the back and her ring finger, “I will be ready with a ring when you come back.” “Will you propose at the train station?” “The odds are not slim.” He gives another kiss. “I love you too.” Y/N says over the train engine, as they just are about to start moving. She is not close enough to see it, but a tear does fall from Chan’s eye.

The train moves very slowly at first, so Chan walks along with it and doesn’t let go of Y/N’s hand. Soon though Chan is forced to let go and Y/N assumes that he will stay still and let her pass, but he doesn’t. “What are you doing?” The question comes out as a laugh when Chan starts running along side the train. “A grand gesture!” He yells back, and runs until he can’t keep up anymore. Y/N waves as Chan disappears into the distance, before eventually sitting down in her seat. She cannot wait to be on this train again, with snow falling behind the windows and going the opposite direction.

“Chan dear, the last one if for you.” Y/N gestures to the final box under the Christmas tree. They sit together on the floor, along with their dog. A older mutt, used to be stray called bandit, “It’s fragile. So please be gentle.” “Ah, I hope it is nothing outrageous babydoll.” Chan smiles as he undos the perfectly tied ribbon on the box before he takes off the lid. “You didn’t doll.” Chan laughs as he reaches to grab what’s inside the box. “Oh but I did.” Chan lifts a small, King Charles Spaniel puppy out of the box. She squirms as Chan looks at her. A little red bandana is tied around her neck, ‘Berry’ sewed into the fabric in white. Chan brings the puppy closer to his face and allows her to give him plenty of face kisses. Bandit makes sure to get closer too, sniffing at the new family addition.

“I love you.You are the best wife a man could have, you know that?” Chan asks as puts Berry in his lap to lean over and kiss Y/N’s lips, before grabbing her hand and kissing the ring on her finger. One he gave to her three years ago. “I love you too, and of course I am.” The puppy crawls out of Chan’s lap and over to the woman, who allows Berry to rest on her leg with her head on her stomach. She makes sure to pet the older dog too, since like Chan, he tends to be a little jealous at times as well. “You’re not going to be the only lady of the house anymore.” Chan smiles and rubs the puppy’s ear.

“Oh we may overpower you soon.” Y/N laughs and gestures to her stomach, “We are still unsure as to what we will get.” “Ah, but I’m sure he will be a boy.” Chan places his hand on his wife’s belly. He quickly leans down and gives her belly a kiss before straightening up and kissing his wife properly.

“You cannot possibly know that.” “I have a feeling.” “And if she ends up being a girl?” “Then I will love her just as much.”

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