#either way. sorry for taking this ask and bolting with it.

[tqlepatia]

Sevika x just the most sweetest butch girl ever-Like pours her full love into everything but one night she comes back from work just bawling about exhaustion and Sevika is just trying not too to laugh or smile cause she just thinks its cute

✴ — warmer in your arms

↪ butch! reader × sevika .

The door didn’t slam, exactly — it thudded shut, low and slow like the sound of defeat. Sevika barely looked up from her seat at the kitchen table. She had a tumbler of whiskey in her hand, long legs kicked out under the chair, her shirt unbuttoned just enough to say it's been a day, too.

But it was the silence that made her pause.

You usually came in talking — sometimes muttering to yourself, sometimes venting, always unloading in your way. But tonight… nothing.

She turned her head and saw you standing in the doorway, still in your dusty overalls, eyes already red.

“Oh,” Sevika said softly, and that was all it took.

Your lip trembled like a faulty lever, and then you were crying — not dainty tears either. Full-body, shoulder-shaking sobs. The kind you couldn't control even if you tried, and god, you were trying. Hands on your hips, breath hiccupping like a damn engine misfiring.

“I—I’m—fuck,” you gasped out, laughing wetly through it. “I’m sorry, this is—stupid.”

“Not stupid,” Sevika said, standing up. She kept her face neutral. Had to. One wrong smile and you’d take it all back and say you were fine, even though you were obviously not.

You sniffled and tried to wipe your face with the sleeve of your flannel. It left a damp streak down your cheek.

“Dropped a box of bolts on my foot. Broke a bit. Client bitched about paint colors even though she picked ’em.” You were listing the offenses now, like a litany, voice cracking. “And my boss said I look tired like—no shit, I am tired—”

Your whole body heaved. “I just—I try so hard, Sevika. I really try.”

Sevika wrapped her arms around you. Big, warm, solid arms. Her chin rested on your head like it always did when she knew words wouldn’t cut it. You sagged against her, finally letting yourself lean all the way in.

And fuck, she was smiling.

Not mocking, not even teasing. Just that tiny, traitorous grin she always got when you were soft like this — all that toughness, all that hardworking butch pride, melted into something vulnerable and unbearably sincere. “You’re ridiculous,” Sevika murmured against your hair.

You looked up, eyes glassy. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not.”—“You are!.”

A beat of silence. Sevika’s smile widened. “You’re just so fuckin’ cute when you cry.”

You punched her shoulder — weakly, exhausted — and groaned. “You suck.”

“Nah,” Sevika said, kissing your temple, “I’m obsessed with you.”

You breathed in sharp, trying to hold steady. Her hands were warm on your back, and the kitchen smelled like smoked paprika and something earthy she’d cooked earlier, probably just because she knew you wouldn’t have the energy.

You let out a shaky laugh, finally, and Sevika felt it against her chest.

“I just wanna do things right,” you mumbled. “Take care of you. Of everything."

“And you do,” she said. “Every damn day" Sevika kissed you again. Cheek. Nose. Corner of your mouth.

“So take the night off. You’ve clocked in enough for today.” You rested your forehead against hers and exhaled, the weight of the world finally lifting because she let you fall apart without flinching and because she’d always be right there, catching the pieces, putting them back without asking you to be anything but yourself.

Even when you were snot-nosed, teary-eyed, and furious at the world for not recognizing how much love you poured into every damn thing you touch.

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[mandarinmoons]

hi! i have an idea ive been thinking about for a while. spencer and the team (plus reader) are at a bar and reader goes off to get a drink/dance/talk to someone and either a girl or a group of girls come up to spencer and start flirting with him. the first thing she/they ask ofc is "do you have a girlfriend?" and spencer (not realizing they are flirting) is like yes!!! her name is _____ and she is amazing and i love her so much.... and he goes on like a 20 minute rant about reader. reader finally finds him talking to these girls/girl and has to recuse them/her from his ranting about herself and explain what they actually meant.

sorry that was a lot but i wanted to make sure understood what i was envisioning. thank you so much!!!

“Spence, please!”

Spencer kept pulling you closer as he tried to nuzzle his way into your neck and leave a few kisses behind your ear. He wasn’t one for PDA, but after a few shots he was puddy in your hands and everyone had to witness what a mess you made of him in this state.

“I just wanna be close to you,” you could feel him pout as his lips were pressed against your neck, his thumbs rubbing over your waist.

“Looks like you’re not getting out of here anytime soon, huh pretty girl?”

Derek chuckled as he took pleasure seeing his younger brother of a coworker finally have a girlfriend, especially with how clingy he was being at the moment. It was as if Spencer would follow you if you were to leave for only a minute, which he had done approximately half an hour ago when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and somehow he still had enough brainpower to talk about how hand-dryers could actually spread more germs and not remove them. He’d even taken it upon himself to take some paper towels and dry your hands for you, making sure to even dry the spaces between your fingers.

You had had only one drink and you were not going home unless you had a second one. Spencer had already downed three in that time, and looking at the state that he was in, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get served any more tonight.

“Spence, I'm going to get a quick drink, okay? Stay here.”

Prying his hands off of you, you quickly slipped out of Spencer’s grasp before he managed to put his hands on your waist again.

A few minutes later, Penelope pulls Derek to the dance floor while Emily comes across an old friend and excuses herself to have a word with her, leaving Spencer all by himself at the booth, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth while fidgeting with his fingers. He was too deep in thought that he didn’t notice a group of girls come over and sit next to him, their intentions clearly not innocent.

“Hi! You’re here all alone?”

“Oh, I’m not! I’m here with my girlfriend and team mates!”

“I don’t see any girlfriend around.”

“She went to get a drink. Oh, she loves an aperol spritz, she’s got great taste, in general not just in drinks.”

The girls watched in amazement as Spencer kept talking about every small thing he could come up with about you, from your favorite color and the psychological meaning behind it to your Myers Briggs personality type and how you’re both compatible.

As the endless line at the bar finally came to an end and you managed to get your drink, walking back to the team’s spot you noticed the unfamiliar girls surrounding Spencer and your stomach churned in nerves. The closer you got however you noticed their bored and confused faces and that’s all you needed to know that Spencer had most probably pulled his book smarts out on them and left them speechless.

“Oh and this one time- Y/N, you’re back!”

Spencer pulled you in for a hug, nearly knocking the drink out of your hands. Managing to put it down on the table, you rested your hand on his back as you turned your attention to the strangers, them clearly on the edges of their seats and ready to bolt at any moment.

“We’re gonna go, nice to meet you both.”

Your eyes followed them as they quickly got up and made their way to the other side of the bar, even from a distance you could see the red hue on their cheeks, embarrassment written all over their faces.

“Spence, what did they want?”

“They came over and asked if I had a girlfriend.”

“That’s it?”

Spencer nodded as he nuzzled into your stomach, “And I talked about how great you are and how I’m going to marry you one day.”

Laughter erupted from your mouth as you heard the answer, also because of Spencer’s fingers practically digging into your sides that it was tickling you.

“Sweetie, I don’t think that’s what they meant by that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Usually when someone asks “Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend?”, it’s their way of asking “Are you single?”

Spencer blinked his eyes, your words not yet registering in his head.

“They were flirting with you.”

“Oh… really?”

Nodding along, the conversation was put on halt as everyone made their way back to the table.

“You guys had to leave him alone, huh?”

“Why? What happened?”

“Some girls came up to Spencer and tried to hit on him.”

“Oh, pretty boy’s got game now, huh?”

The team chuckled, but Spencer kept burrowing his head more into your embrace. It was clear that no matter how many girls tried their luck with him it would inevitably fail, as you were his home that he would come back to every time.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[mssishipi]

TASTE OF INDULGENCE

CHAPTER 2 – OOPS, IT'S SOUR

The sex was good. So fucking good. But somehow, Jay is making things difficult afterward. His sharp comments, his rough attitude, the way he keeps looking at you like you’re something he regrets. Annoying. Irritating. You need to be careful with the way you talk 'cause— oops, it's sour.

content tags: again everyone is either gay or fruity, bi! jake, bi! jay, pansexual! reader, profanities, reader being horny, sexual mutual pining (?), lots of pov switch, jay has a high pride (bear with him), sunoo is just sunoo, poorly written smut (going to proofread when i have time)

explicit content (smut): masturbation, anal sex (mxm), threesome (switch jake, switch jay, sub reader), cunilingus, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (don't!), multiple sex position, overstimulation, cream pie, belly bulging, facial. dacryphilia. MDNI! WC: 17.9K

want a taste?

7:10 AM.

A text notification lit up your phone screen.

Jay: We had a 7:30 class. Jake didn't want to wake you.

You blink at the time. 10:12 AM.

"Oh, fuck." You bolt upright, instantly regretting it when a sharp ache shoots through your thighs and up your spine. Your entire body hurts. Your throat stings. Your legs feel like they barely belong to you. You can't even walk straight at all, and every moment is torture.

Ignoring every screaming muscle, throwing on your uniform in record time. You grab the oversized turtleneck jacket hanging in Jay's apartment—no doubt his—to cover the bruises blooming across your neck.

You don't even think about eating or taking a bath. No time. You shove your things into your bag, slip your shoes on painfully slow, and practically limp out the door. By the time you're speed-walking (more like hobbling) down the university halls, you're out of breath, late, and completely miserable.

You barge into the lecture hall, panting. People inside the hall turn around their head, looking at you, suddenly making you feel conscious. While your professor gives you a pointed look, gesturing vaguely toward the empty seats.

"Sorry," you mumble, bowing slightly before sinking into your chair next to Sunoo. You drop your bag with a thud, wincing as your shoulders protest because everything hurts.

Sunoo, bless his nosy soul, immediately narrows his eyes at you, looking you up and down. "The hell are you wearing?" His voice is dripping with disgust.

You blink, tugging at the oversized turtleneck swallowing your entire frame. "Clothes?"

Sunoo looks offended that you would even try that excuse. "First of all, why are you not entirely on your uniform? Second, what is that outfit? And third—" he pauses, squinting at you, "where the hell were you during Chemistry?!"

You sigh, pressing your fingers against your throbbing temples. "Can you not interrogate me at ten in the morning?" You slump onto the table, resting your forehead against your arms.

Sunoo does not back down. "You? Skipping a major class? That's a first."

"I overslept," you mutter, voice muffled against your sleeves.

Sunoo gasps dramatically. "Overslept?! Girl, our vacant period was six hours—how the fuck did you oversleep that much?!"

You squeeze your eyes shut. His voice is a hammer against your already pounding head. "I'm sick," you groan.

Sunoo snorts, utterly unimpressed. "Yeah, no shit. You look like you crawled out of a man's closet and died."

"Shut up and send me the lecture notes," you grumble.

Sunoo glares, but does as you ask, muttering, "You better not fail this subject because of whatever the fuck you've been up to."

You straighten your back, pulling out your iPad, clicking it on—7% battery left. You groan, rubbing your palms over your face. Of course you forgot to charge it.

"Do you have a power bank?" you ask, voice bordering on pleading.

Sunoo sighs, shaking his head as he rummages through his bag. "Seriously, what did you do last night?"

Yeah. No way in hell you're answering that.

Abnormal Psychology was awkward as hell. You shared this class with Jay and Jake, which was already bad enough—but what made it worse was that they sat right next to you.

Jake slid into the seat to your right, all easy smiles and warmth, while Jay, dropped into the chair on your left, arms crossed, jaw tight. You stiffened, hyper-aware of just how close they were.

Across the table, Sunoo let out an audible huff, rolling his eyes as he aggressively placed his notebook down. He didn't say anything, but the look he shot you was pure what the fuck is going on?

Your fingers clenched around your pen, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. Jake, leaned in toward you. "Are you okay?" he asked, you swallowed, nodding quickly, keeping your gaze firmly on your desk.

"Did you eat?" You nodded again.

"Do you have time for lunch later?" You pause, your throat felt dry. You hesitated, sneaking a glance at Jay. Only to be met with an icy glare piercing straight through you.

Jake, still in his own world, leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, just for you. "Did you enjoy last night?"

Your grip tightened around your pen. Your breath felt shaky. You notice Sunoo's head tilted ever so slightly.

Jake smirked, barely audible as he added, "Do you think there should be a next time?"

A thrill shot through you—excitement, nerves, anticipation. Of course, you wanted that. Of course, It's a yes! It's a fucking yes!

Jay's posture had gone rigid. His hands curled into fists, his shoulders squared. You turned your head slightly, and there it was— That look, sharp and cold—but unmistakably directed at you.

Jake, completely oblivious, kept his soft smile, his fingers lightly drumming against the desk as he waited for your answer, but you're attention was not on him anymore. Because Jay's glare was burning into the side of your face, setting every nerve in your body on edge.

Why was he looking at you like that?! Why did it feel like he was angry?

Your throat felt dry, your palms clammy. You forced yourself to tear your gaze away, staring down at your iPad as if it could somehow shield you from whatever the hell Jay's problem was.

Jake nudged you lightly, still waiting.

"Uh, only if both of you mind," you managed to say, your voice light, a forced chuckle following your words. And because you were stupid, because some part of you needed to check, you glanced at Jay, just for a second. What a big mistake.

His eyes bore into you, glaring through your skull.  You snapped your head away, heat crawling up your neck.

What the hell is his problem?

The sex was good. No—more than that. It was amazing. It was the first time you ever felt that good, the first time sex had ever been something.

So why was he glaring?

It wasn't like you were about to steal Jake away from him. It wasn't like you had forced him into it. He agreed, didn't he? Unless... Did he not enjoy it? Was this whole situation making him uncomfortable? Did he regret it?

Maybe you were overthinking. Maybe he was just being his usual self. Maybe you should just walk away now, act like it never happened. Maybe that was what Jay wanted.

Agh, you're confused.

Sunoo lazily popped a sour candy into his mouth, squinting as the tartness hit his tongue. He let out a small grunt, shifting to a more comfortable position on the grass. The afternoon sun was hot, beating down on both of you, but you are too focused on your internal dilemma to noticed the heat.

"What does it mean if you have two friends? Friend number one smiles at you, treats you well, but friend number two always glares at you. But—" you paused, picking at the hem of your uniform, "friend number two is perfectly nice to friend number one?"

Sunoo gave you a long, unimpressed look, slowly chewing. "It means friend number two doesn't like you," he grumbled, voice flat, as if the answer was obvious.

You frowned, hugging your knees to your chest. "But what if..." You hesitated, debating whether you should even continue.

Sunoo sighed dramatically. "Oh, here we go. What if?"

You rolled your eyes but pressed on. "What if friend number one, friend number two, and I... shared a happy moment?"

Sunoo raised a brow. "Shared a happy moment? What the hell does that even mean?"

You felt heat creep up your neck. "I mean, like—" You cleared your throat. "Something really good happened, something we all enjoyed together. But now, friend number two acts weird with me."

Sunoo chewed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. "Maybe friend number two just thinks of those happy moments as something they only wanted to share with friend number one."

You bit your lip, heart sinking.

"Maybe friend number two is jealous," Sunoo continued, tossing another candy into his mouth. "Because you got to be part of something they wanted to keep just between them and friend number one."

You inhaled sharply, your body shifting as you leaned back on your palms, eyes fixed on the field in front of you. The rhythmic sounds of students laughing and running filled the air

"Can friend number two just tell me they hate me already?" you muttered, exasperated. "I'm overthinking everything at this point."

Sunoo snorted, reaching into his pocket before offering you his pack of sour candy. "You expect men to communicate? Not a chance."

You rolled your eyes but took the package from him, ripping it open. "I never said friend number two was a man, geez," you huffed, popping a candy into your mouth. The sharp, sour taste made you wince slightly.

"I'm not that dumb, bitch." Sunoo grumble as he turned to you. You clicked your tongue but said nothing. Sunoo wasn't an idiot. If anything, he probably already had an idea of what—or who—this was really about. But thankfully, he didn't push any further.

With a sigh, you started thinking again. Was that really it? Did he really hate you? Was he really just jealous?

Your fingers curled against the grass, the uneven texture grounding you. If he didn't want you there, if he didn't want to share Jake, then why didn't he just stop it from the beginning?

He was the one who convinced you. He was the one who told you to give it a chance. And yet now, every time you saw him, his eyes burned into you.

You swallowed hard, staring blankly ahead. His words echoed in your mind.

"He's mine—and letting you into our bed doesn't mean anything more. You're just there for fun."

"I'll always be the one who fucks him better."

Maybe that was all this was. A reminder and a warning to know your place.

You sighed, rubbing your temple before shoving another sour candy into your mouth. The sharp, tangy taste made you wince.

Just like him. Acting so fucking sour.

Jay's life was a fucking mess.

Every time he saw you, he remembered. Every time he didn't see you, he still remembered.

It pissed him off to no end. It made him furious that his brain kept replaying that night—your whines, your shaking legs, the way you screamed when you came undone on Jake's fingers.

He scoffed, almost laughing at himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was Park Jongseong, for fuck's sake. There was no way in hell he was going to let some pathetic girl like you get under his skin.

You weren't special. You were just a moment—a mistake, something that should've been forgettable.

And yet. Why the fuck was he hard right now, thinking about the way you squirted all over his sheets? The way your body trembled when he slapped your pussy raw, the way your lips parted when you gasped for air under his grip?

His jaw tightened. He hated you. He fucking hated you. He hated your guts. He hated the way you always stared at his boyfriend with those wide, hungry eyes. He hated that you got to see Jake like that, got to have his attention, even for a moment.

Most of all, though— He hated that you never once looked at him the same way.

"Is she replying to you? Because she's not responding to me." Jake let out a dramatic sigh, flopping onto the bed. His phone dangled loosely in his grip as he stared up at the ceiling, defeated. "She won't even accept my follow request."

Jay didn't respond. He just kept typing on his laptop, the only sound in the room was the faint clicking of his keyboard.

Jake glanced at his phone again, lips pressing together. "Is she okay? She's been wearing turtlenecks under her uniform for almost a week now," he muttered. "And her voice—it's different. Kinda raspy. I noticed it during our Social Psych class."

Jay's typing slowed as Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Do you think she's avoiding us? Did I do something wrong? Am I making her uncomfortable?"

Jay inhaled deeply, fingers pausing on the keyboard as his boyfriend's endless stream of questions continued.

"I think she's more comfortable with you," Jake added, eyes still fixed on his phone.

Jay almost laughed. Comfortable with him? Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes before finally speaking. "She would come back if she wanted to," he muttered, still not looking away from his screen. "Stop overthinking it."

Jake frowned, crossing his arms. "I'm not overthinking. I just want to know if she's okay."

Jay clenched his jaw. "She's fine."

"You don't know that," Jake countered. "You haven't even checked on her."

Jay's fingers twitched. "You have," he shot back. "So why does it matter what I do?"

Jake sighed, shaking his head. "Because I know you care, even if you don't want to admit it."

Jay stiffened, his fingers tightening around his mouse. Jake sat up straighter, watching him carefully. "I just want to fix things, okay? She's been distant. And I don't think it's just because she's busy."

"Just leave her alone for the meantime," Jay muttered, trying to keep his tone neutral, but the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the irritation underneath Jay's words. "Babe, why are you so—"

"I'm not anything," Jay cut him off sharply, fingers resuming their typing, even though he wasn't actually focusing on the screen anymore.

Why does it matter so much? Why can't Jake just let it go? They had their fun, it happened, and now it was done. It was supposed to be done. But no—Jake kept thinking about you, kept asking about you, kept caring about you. It was pissing Jay off.

And what pissed him off even more was the fact that he wasn't any better. He didn't want to think about you.

Jay's fingers stilled on the keyboard.

You weren't even interacting with them anymore. You barely even looked at them. You were just out there, minding your own business, avoiding them. And yet, you still had this effect on both of them.

Jake was concerned about you.  Jay was pissed. That was it. That was all. He had no other reason to care.

"Jay?" Jake's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Jay exhaled through his nose, forcing his hands to relax. "Do whatever you want," he muttered. "Just don't expect me to give a shit."

Jay didn't know what kind of cosmic joke this was—how out of every possible student in this class, he ended up paired with you. Just two minor courses and one major, and somehow, somehow, he still couldn't escape you.

Like life was just laughing at him. And as if his patience wasn't already wearing thin, your stupid alarm had to go off. Again.

"Can you fucking turn off your alarm?" he hissed, glaring at you from across the table.

You blinked at him, unbothered, barely sparing him a glance as you silenced your phone. "It's just an alarm. Chill."

"Excuse me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sunoo snapped beside you, rolling his eyes as he turned to Jay. "That's her alarm for her medicine."

Jay's jaw clenched. Of course your annoying best friend would come to your rescue. Not only was he stuck in a group with you, but Sunoo too—and somehow, by some miracle, without Jake around to be the buffer between him and his growing irritation.

What the fuck was he even doing here? And what was with this medicine you kept taking at exactly 3:30 PM?

Not that he cared, but it pissed him off that every time he was forced to be around you, your stupid alarm would interrupt the discussion, and then you'd excuse yourself to the bathroom.

It pissed him off that he had to spend another minute waiting for you to come back. He hated that he was noticing things about you. Like how you avoided looking at him unless you absolutely had to, like he wasn't even worth acknowledging.

You grab your bag and stand up, ready to leave, of course, Sunoo follows instantly, picking up your tumbler like some kind of assistant.

Before either of you can take a step, Jay huffs, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

"Just take the damn medicine here," he says, sounding beyond annoyed. "I don't want to waste my time waiting for you two to come back. There's literally five minutes left in this meeting."

Both you and Sunoo pause, staring at him. Sunoo squints, looking personally offended by the audacity.

Meanwhile, you hesitate, shifting awkwardly before reluctantly sitting back down. You send Sunoo a silent look—a desperate please, let's just drop this before Jay kills me kind of look.

Jay watched as Sunoo sat down, rummaged through your bag with way too much enthusiasm, practically throwing things aside until he found what he was looking for.

"You're being so fucking insensitive," Sunoo snapped, pulling out a small container of pills and dramatically placing them in front of you. "She's literally sick."

Jay rolled his eyes, slumping back in his chair, arms crossed. "It's not like I told her not to take them."

"You're acting like it's an inconvenience!" Sunoo shot back, popping the cap off your tumbler. "She needs these!"

Meanwhile, you were panicking. Sunoo didn't actually know why you were taking the medication—only that you'd been struggling with swallowing and breathing. He was there when you went to get it checked out, and he had shrieked so loudly at the doctor's office upon seeing the bruises on your throat that security almost got called. You had to practically beg them not to report it as abuse.

Jay's gaze flickered toward you, watching how stiff you had gotten, your fingers curling around the edge of the table. Suspicious.

His patience was already hanging by a thread, and every group meeting was making it worse. Every single time, Jake would sit beside you, smiling, asking about your day, treating you like nothing had changed. And you would talk to him in the same soft tone, laughing lightly, joking, as if things were perfectly fine.

But when it came to Jay, you barely even looked at him.

Jay's hands curled into fists under the table. Did you really like Jake that much?

"Just take the damn pill and let's finish this," he muttered, looking away.

Sunoo clicked his tongue, clearly still pissed, but you sighed. Grabbing the medicine, you tossed it back with a sip of water, trying not to feel like you were swallowing more than just the pill.

Sunoo huffed dramatically, slumping back in his chair, arms crossed as he blew his bangs out of his face. Then, in a whisper just loud enough for you to hear, he muttered, "God, he's so sour."

You nearly choked on your water, barely managing to swallow before coughing into your sleeve. Meanwhile, across the table, Jay's eye twitched, his fingers pausing mid-typing.

Yeah, he definitely heard that.

"I did not study Psychology to be dealing with people like him. I swear, I don't get it! His boyfriend, Jake, is an actual sunshine. How the hell did he end up with someone like that? He's such an asshole—I want to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze."

Sunoo groans dramatically, throwing his hands in the air like he's physically choking someone.

You snort, patting his back in an attempt to soothe him. "Easy there, I don't think murder is part of the syllabus."

"I know he's serious about his work, but I didn't expect him to be this much of a dick about it! What's his problem?" Sunoo huffs, his fists clenching. "Do you want me to go back there and punch him? Because I will. Gladly."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "I don't think that'll help."

Sunoo lets out another exaggerated sigh, slumping against the bench you're both sitting on. "This is exactly why I hate men."

"You do realize he's gay, right?" You whisper, rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles.

Sunoo glares at you, eyes narrowing. "And? He's still a man! God!" He throws his head back dramatically. "Why are they all like this? Why can't they just be normal and not emotionally constipated?"

You chuckle, resting your chin on your palm. "You're so worked up about this."

"I am worked up! I don't like seeing my best friend treated like trash. That's my job!" Sunoo pokes your forehead lightly. "Not some grumpy, brooding asshole with control issues."

You sigh, offering a small smile as you murmur something to calm him down. He huffs but eventually lets it go, leaning back with his arms crossed.

It had been a week since everything happened. And to your credit, you were doing a great job avoiding them—or, well, avoiding Jay.

Jake was different. Jake was nice. He kept talking to you, his usual warmth never faltering. Always so soft, always so considerate. It was hard keeping your distance when he was so genuinely kind to you.

Unlike Jay, Jake never gave you a reason to feel unwanted. He'd ask if his proximity made you uncomfortable, if you'd eaten, how you were feeling. But somehow, despite everything, he never brought up that night again. Not once did he mention the sex, didn't push for another time, didn't make any suggestive comments.

You weren't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Well, Jay... that was a different story entirely. You couldn't afford to talk to him. Couldn't even look at him. His attitude, his gaze, the way he seemed to burn with irritation every time you were anywhere near—it made everything so much harder.

You were convinced at this point. Park Jongseong hated you. And somehow, Jake had no idea.

And yet, you still wanted him. Both of them, It was pathetic.

No matter how much he glared, no matter how cold he acted, your body still reacted to him. Your mind still wandered into dangerous places, imagining things.

Like the way his hands would feel pinning you down, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you from behind—frustrated, rough, using you to work out whatever twisted anger he had toward you.

Or maybe Jake would be there, slipping underneath, his soft mouth on your clit while Jay kept you spread open for him. His tongue moving in slow, teasing circles, coaxing you to the edge while Jay's cock filled you.

You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but your thighs clenched instinctively.

God, you were so pathetic. Back to being the desperate girl thirsting over men who weren't even yours to begin with.

It would never happen again. You repeated it in your head.

Another week passed, and you finally ditched the turtlenecks. The bruises were still there, faint shadows against your skin, but barely noticeable unless someone really looked which you doubted anyone would.

"I swear, after midterms, I'm going to sleep for a full twenty-four hours," you muttered, scrolling through your research on your iPad. Your pen skimmed across the screen, underlining sections that needed revision.

"I just want to treat myself," Sunoo sighed, resting his chin on his palm. "Maybe a red velvet cake or something."

You hummed, mimicking his pose, eyes distant as you both fell into a much-needed daydream. "I wanna try the matcha strawberry drink from that new café at the Avenue. This week has been so draining." You sighed, letting your shoulders slump. "I'm also craving marshmallows, but honestly? I don't even think I deserve them."

Across the table, Jay huffed—that sharp, irritated sound you'd grown far too familiar with. You didn't even need to look up to know he was watching, that signature glare aimed straight at you and Sunoo.

"Can you focus?" His voice ruined your lighthearted moment. "We're almost done. Stop wasting time."

You quickly dropped your gaze back to your iPad, pretending to be engrossed in your notes. But your fingers fidgeted with the stylus. Sunoo, made a loud show of flipping open his book, rolling his eyes so hard.

"God, you're so uptight," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Jay to hear.

Not long after, Jake appeared, all warmth and sunshine, his smile instantly making the mood lighter. "Hey," he greeted, his voice soft as he glanced at you before nodding at Sunoo.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up—straightening a little, fingers brushing over your hair, smoothing down your uniform. It wasn't intentional, but Jay noticed. His grip on his pen tightened just slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Are you finished?" Jake murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Jay's temple before settling beside him.

Jay hummed in response, not looking up, but his hand instinctively brushed around Jake's waist, a small acknowledgment of his presence.

Sunoo gagged dramatically, clutching his chest like he was in physical pain. "Jesus Christ, not in front of us, please," he groaned, rubbing his arms like the display of affection had given him hives.

Jake just laughed, completely unbothered. "What? You don't like a little affection?"

"I like affection," Sunoo huffed, flipping a page with unnecessary force. "I don't like seeing gay love flaunted in front of me, knowing I'm single and trying to work."

Jake smirked, leaning further into Jay just to be annoying, kissing his cheek. "Hmm, okay," he said simply.

You chuckled at their antics, but the laughter caught in your throat the moment your eyes met his. Your breath hitched slightly, and you quickly looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of how comfortable you were around Jake compared to the awkward tension that always came with Jay.

Geez, you can't even be happy in front of him.

Jake knew himself well enough to admit that sometimes he could be too pushy when he wanted something. But he wasn't insensitive. He noticed things, especially when it came to the people he cared about.

And lately, he'd been noticing a lot. Jay's behavior toward you wasn't just cold—it was rough. The sharp glances, the clipped tone, the way his patience seemed to wear thinner whenever you were around. At first, Jake thought it was just Jay being Jay, the brooding, possessive, easily annoyed. But the longer it went on, the more it started to feel different.

That was why Jake had been careful. He didn't push too hard. He avoided bringing you up in conversations with Jay, kept his interactions with you light, casual. But he couldn't completely ignore you. Not when he'd noticed the way your breath sometimes slowed, how you would press your fingers against your throat absentmindedly, as if checking for something. Not the time when you still wore high-collared tops long after the bruises should've faded. He knew Jay had left those marks. And he knew, deep down, Jay knew that, too.

Jake couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Did Jay regret what happened? Was he jealous of you? Jake knew how possessive Jay could be, how he had always been the type to express his emotions through actions rather than words. Maybe Jake should've just let it go. Maybe he should've left you alone for the sake of Jay's peace of mind. But every time he thought about it, something in his gut told him that wasn't the answer.

"Fuck—just like that," Jay groaned, fingers tightening in his hair, hips snapping forward, chasing more of that heat, more of that wet, perfect warmth.

Jake hummed, taking him deeper, his throat swallowing around him. Jay shuddered, his thighs trembling slightly.

Jay's mind was a wreck — being in the same group as you? Tolerable. Jay was starting to tolerate you. But that didn't mean he didn't hate you. God—he hated you.

His grip tightened in Jake's hair, frustration bubbling over as he fucked into his boyfriend's mouth with more force, each thrust carrying a weight he couldn't put into words. Jake moaned around him, wide eyes flicking up, locking onto his as he bobbed his head, matching his rhythm perfectly.

Jake looked so fucking beautiful like this.

Jay let out a shaky breath, head tipping back for a moment before his thoughts dragged him back to you.

Why the fuck do you keep looking at Jake like that? Why do you always pull away when he walks in? Why does your smile always falter the moment he gets near?

You were so soft with everyone else—laughing, chatting, existing like a normal person. But with him? It was different.

Your shoulders tensed. Your voice lowered. You avoided him, even in small things—passing papers, choosing seats, glancing his way. Even when you had to sit next to him, you made yourself small. So close, yet always so far away.

He shouldn't care. He fucking hated you. So why did it feel like he was losing his mind over this?

"Jake—" his voice was strained, stomach tightening, his body wound so tight. "I'm close."

Jake hummed in response, vibrations sending pleasure through him. His boyfriend was eager, tongue swirling around his shaft, making his legs tremble.

Jay's jaw clenched, his whole body coiling as his release built up.

And then—your face flashed through his mind. The way you walked into the lecture hall, pretending you didn't see him. The way you laughed at something Sunoo said, your shoulders relaxing the second you thought Jay wasn't watching.

Jay was always watching, he was always looking at you. And you never looked at him.

Look at me, his mind screamed every time. Just fucking look at me. But you never did.

His orgasm ripped through him, his whole body shaking, his head tipping back as his eyes rolled, a loud whine tearing from his throat.

He whispered your name. His hips stuttered, mindlessly thrusting into Jake's mouth, the echo of your name slipping past his lips, again and again.

Jake pulled off, gasping for air, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His brows furrowed slightly, staring at Jay with confusion before chuckling.

"Did you just—"

Jay collapsed back against the couch, breathless, his arm thrown over his face, chest rising and falling heavily. Jake's fingers glided up his stomach, watching him closely.

And even now—Even after coming. Your name was still on Jay's lips.

That made Jake's cock twitch. He liked this. He liked Jay this way—angry, possessive, completely in denial.

A slow smirk curled Jake's lips as he leaned back against the couch, eyes lidded as he reached for his zipper. The sound of it unzipping filled the air, followed by the rustle of fabric as he tugged his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself.

His fingers wrapped around his cock, dragging along the length, thumb circling the slit as he collected the precum beading at the tip.

Jay watched him, He didn't say anything, didn't move—but Jake saw it. The way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. The way his fingers twitched at his sides. The way his gaze lingered.

Jake let out a soft gasp, biting his lip before stroking himself faster. "Let's fuck her again," he murmured, His eyes flickered up, locking onto Jay's dark stare. "Shall we?"

Jay stirred, shifting slightly.

Jake hummed, his pace quickening. "I want to do more things with her," he moaned, hips stuttering into his own grip. "Thought you hated her, thought you wanted nothing to do with her, but—fuck—" he inhaled sharply, smirking through his pleasure. "You're just denying things, huh?"

Jay's cock twitched.

"You make things so fucking difficult," Jake moaned, tilting his head back, his free hand dragging up his stomach. "If you weren't so prideful, we'd already have her between us again."

Jay inhaled sharply through his nose, his control slipping. He moved before he could stop himself—grabbing Jake's wrist, ripping his hand away from his cock.

Jake gasped, pleasure cut off instantly as Jay loomed over him, eyes burning. "Shut the fuck up," Jay growled, his grip tight. His other hand snapped to Jake's thigh, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Jake's lips parted, his breath shaky—but then he grinned again, riling him further.

"You're so full of shit, baby," Jake moaned. "Acting like you hate her, when really, you just wanna ruin her."

He shifted under Jay's hold, spreading his thighs slightly, giving him more of a view. "Come on, just admit it," he murmured, his voice teasing, breathless. "You liked fucking her. You liked the way she fell apart under you—how desperate she was, how much she wanted it."

Jay's breath hitched, nostrils flaring. Jake leaned in closer, lips brushing against his jaw, voice dropping to a whisper. "And now, you can't stop thinking about her, can you?"

Jay's fingers twitched, feeling the rush of heat.

"You wanna know if she thinks about it, too?" Jake continued, his free hand sliding up Jay's chest, fingers tracing over the fabric of his shirt. "If she touches herself to the memory of you?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Jay snapped. He grabbed Jake roughly, flipping him over onto his stomach before yanking his hips up, positioning himself at his ass. Using his own cum from earlier as lubrication, he pushed inside in one rough thrust.

Jake gasped, his mouth falling open in a silent moan before it turned into a loud, wanton cry. His fingers clawed at the couch, his back arching. "Fucking yes—"

Jay didn't wait, didn't give him time to adjust. He fucked into him—deep, brutal thrusts, each one fueled by the mess in his head, the tangled thoughts that refused to leave him alone.

"Fuck," Jay gritted out, his hands gripping Jake's waist hard enough to bruise. His pace was relentless, hips snapping forward with enough force to shove Jake up. "You think I give a shit about what she does?"

Jake moaned, back curving further as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, meeting Jay's thrusts. "I think you do," he panted, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips despite the way his body trembled from the rough pace. "I think you care—I think you hate that you care."

Jay growled, his fingers tangling in Jake's hair, yanking his head back roughly. "Shut. The fuck. Up."

Jake only moaned louder, his own cock leaking against the rough fabric of the couch. "That's right, baby," he gasped, voice breaking from pleasure. "Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Imagine her in my place—imagine that tight little pussy wrapped around your cock instead—"

Jay let out a loud, guttural groan, his pace turning frantic. His mind flashed to you—flashed to the way you bit your lip when you were nervous, the way your breath hitched when Jake touched you, the way your thighs clenched together when you thought no one was watching.

"Fuck, Jay!" Jake cried out when Jay angled his hips, slamming into his prostate repeatedly. His body trembled, fingers fisting at nothing, lost in the brutal rhythm. "God—yes! Just like that—faster—"

Jay's grip tightened. His vision blurred, thoughts colliding into each other, overwhelming him. Your lips. Your moans. The way your walls clenched around his fingers

His frustration boiled over. His jealousy. His confusion. His anger. And still, your name slipped from his lips.

Jake smirked despite the overwhelming pleasure wrecking his body. His teasing voice was broken between moans. "Fuck, Jay—do you want her?" His breath hitched when Jay thrust harder, his whole body shaking. "Are you gonna take her again? Ruin her—make her fucking yours?"

Jay groaned, his fingers bruising into Jake's skin. His answer came through gritted teeth.

"Fucking yes."

You plopped back into your seat, setting your tumbler down with a sigh, when your eyes landed on the unexpected sight in front of you.

A pack of marshmallows sat right on top of your notes, neatly placed beside your scattered belongings. Brows furrowing, you picked it up, turning it over in your hands. "Huh? Where did this come from?"

Jay barely spared you a glance, fingers typing away on his laptop. "That's been there since before you left to refill your water."

You blinked, confused. "What? No way."

"You got a goldfish brain or something?" Jay's brow twitched in irritation. "God, stop disturbing me."

You scowled at his attitude but chose to ignore it, more focused on the marshmallows that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Sunoo plopped down beside you, a cup of mint ice cream in hand. His spoon clinked against the container as he scooped a bite into his mouth.

"Hey, Sunoo." You turned to him, still holding up the marshmallow pack. "Did I buy these?"

Sunoo tilted his head, squinting as if trying to recall. "Uh... maybe? You did say you were craving marshmallows." He shrugged.

You frowned, glancing back at the pack before shaking your head. "Weird. I don't remember buying them."

"Maybe you did and just forgot. You've been drowning in schoolwork lately." Sunoo licked his spoon, then smirked. "Or maybe you've got a secret admirer."

You snorted, tearing open the pack. "Doubt it." Jay's typing faltered for half a second, but he quickly resumed. Shrugging off the thought, you popped a marshmallow into your mouth, savoring the soft, sugary texture.

"Either way, free marshmallows," you mumbled, offering the bag to Sunoo.

Sunoo happily grabbed one, humming in satisfaction. You turned to Jay, nudging the bag toward him, but he barely glanced up from his laptop. Instead, he waved you off with a dismissive shrug.

Typical. You didn't push, rolling your eyes as you stuffed another marshmallow into your mouth.

The following meetings were okay. No unnecessary arguments, no tension that made you want to shrink into yourself. Things were flowing smoothly.

Except, you started noticing something. Jake was around more often. He claimed it was because he preferred working on his research alongside his boyfriend, but Sunoo had made a dramatic gagging sound the moment Jake sat down, whispering, "Yeah, sure. Totally research-related."

Jake also seemed to be getting... casual with you. Too casual. His hand would rest on your thigh, just sitting, his fingers sometimes absentmindedly rubbing up and down. Or he'd casually hook his arm through yours while walking. You didn't really think much of it. Sunoo did the exact same thing. And, well, Jake was Jake—affectionate, playful, and friendly. You were comfortable with him. It felt natural.

Jay, on the other hand... His behavior was still sour. Or at least, that's what you'd call it if he actually interacted with you at all. He wasn't glaring anymore—not as much, anyway. But he also wasn't looking at you. At all. Not once. He'd walk behind you while you, Jake, and Sunoo chatted and laughed about whatever nonsense came to mind, Jay was always completely silent. Always present but never engaging.

"What the hell?!" Sunoo practically screeched, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jake. His face was twisted in pure betrayal. "I knew you two were fishy! Fucking traitors!"

You and Jake burst into laughter, barely holding onto your phones as you clutched your stomachs. The screen in your hands displayed 'Impostor Wins' in bold letters.

Jake was shaking with suppressed laughter, his head buried against your shoulder as his body trembled with the effort not to be too loud. Meanwhile, Sunoo sat there fuming, eyes narrowed in frustration as he dramatically crossed his arms.

"I trusted you," Sunoo huffed, glaring at Jake. "You were my partner! And you—" He turned to you, jabbing a finger in your direction. "You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I'm sorry!" you wheezed, wiping a tear from your eye. "It was too easy! You fell for it!"

"Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head.

Jay, who had been slumped over the table, twitched at the sudden noise, lifting his head slightly to glance at the three of you. He looked exhausted, his jaw tightening slightly as he took in the way Jake was still pressed against you, his head resting against your shoulder, hand resting a little too comfortably on your thigh.

"Okay, okay, rematch?" you offered, nudging Sunoo with your foot. Sunoo huffed. "I'm not playing with you two anymore. I need new allies."

Jake grinned, finally lifting his head from your shoulder, his hand lazily tapping at his phone screen. "Come on, don't be like that, Sunoo. It's just a game."

"A game?" Sunoo repeated, looking personally offended. "I died for you. I defended you! I saw you kill someone, and I still voted for someone else!"

You and Jake exchanged amused glances before dissolving into laughter again. Jay slammed his laptop shut. The sound was loud enough to startle all three of you, making your heads snap toward him.

"I'm leaving." He said.

You stared at him, blinking in confusion. "Huh?"

Jake straightened up, his playful expression fading slightly. "You okay, babe?"

Jay didn't answer. Instead, he stood up abruptly, slinging his bag over his shoulder before shoving his chair back into place with more force than necessary.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, swallowing. "Uh... I thought we were gonna—"

"I want to sleep," Jay cut you off, his tone cold. His eyes flickered to you briefly, before looking away just as fast. And just like that, he walked out without another word.

The three of you exchanged glances, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Then, Jake sighed, standing up as well. "I'll go talk to him."

"Here we go again," Sunoo muttered under his breath, popping another piece of candy into his mouth.

You wrinkled your nose at him, nudging his leg under the table. "Shut up."

Sunoo smirked, nudging you back. "What? It's entertaining. "

You huffed, slumping back in your chair.

You told yourself over and over again that it wasn't your fault. That Jay's jealousy—because at this point, you were convinced that's what it was—was his own issue. Not yours.

But it was getting harder to ignore when Jake was pressed behind you, arms wrapped securely around your waist, his chest flush against your back. When he was nuzzling into the crook of your neck, murmuring things that weren't even remotely suggestive, but the warmth of his breath against your skin made your knees weak anyway.

And it was impossible to ignore when Jay was sitting right across from you, staring. You felt like a pawn in whatever unspoken battle Jay was having with himself.

Sunoo was oblivious—or maybe just used to this—was too busy fixing his makeup to acknowledge the suffocating tension in the air.

Jake would whisper little things in your ear, casual gossip, things that should not have been turning you on, but the way his lips brushed against your skin with every word sent sparks through your core.

You wanted Jay to do something about it.

You knew he hated you. But deep down, you still hoped—prayed—that whatever this was, whatever anger or frustration he was harboring, he would take it out on you.

That he would grab you by the waist and shove you into the nearest surface. That he would bruise you all over again, mark you up until you belonged to him. That he would shove his cock down your throat, just like last time, ignoring the way you gasped for air, not caring if you were still recovering. Fuck the doctors prescription.

God knows you wanted it. Every night, you would find yourself alone, your fingers curling between your thighs, biting down on your lip to stop from moaning their names. Jake, with his sweet kisses and lingering touches. Jay, with his rough hands and punishing pace.

Would they ever ask again? Would Jake pull you into his lap, whispering in your ear that they missed you? Would Jay finally snap, throw you onto the bed, and take you? Even though you don't deserve it?

You imagined them ruining you, stretching you out together, stuffing you full until there was nothing left of you but the sound of your own choked moans.

Or Jay filling you up, his cum dripping down your thighs. Jake licking it up, kissing your swollen clit before shoving his cock into you next.

"Shit—fuck!" you gasped, thighs clenching around your hand as your mini vibrator sent sharp pulses straight to your core. Your body arched violently off the mattress, hips trembling as waves of pleasure surged through you.

Your back hit the sheets again, your head tilting back as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Every muscle in your body tensed, heat coiling tightly in your abdomen before snapping all at once.

"Thank you—thank you," you moaned breathlessly, tossing the vibrator aside, but your fingers didn't stop. Desperation clawed at your skin as you rubbed tight, insistent circles over your clit, the oversensitivity making your entire body jolt.

Your legs spasmed, toes curling as cold sweat slicked your skin. The tension didn't ease, it only built higher, higher, until suddenly their faces flashed behind your closed eyes.

Jake, whispering filth into your ear, his hands gripping your thighs as he kissed his way down.

Jay, pinning you in place, his fingers tight around your throat, his breath warm against your lips as he growled in your ear.

The image alone sent you spiraling.

Your hips twitched, grinding against your own fingers, chasing more, needing more. You whined, the sound escaping without your permission as your body trembled violently.

"Oh—fuck! Fuck! Ahh!"

Your release hit again, crashing into you, your entire body shuddering as liquid gushed from between your legs, soaking the sheets beneath you. Your thighs clamped shut, your fingers stalling against your clit as the aftershocks rolled through you.

Your chest heaved, your heartbeat erratic, the high still pulsing through your veins. You lay there, boneless, ruined, your sheets damp, your body twitching with every lingering spark of pleasure.

The only sound in the room was your heavy breathing and the faint, continuous buzzing of the forgotten vibrator beside you.

You sigh, staring at the ceiling. Post orgasm crashing into you. Frustration suddenly kicking in.

Frustrated because nothing seemed to satisfy you. Frustrated because no matter what you did—you couldn't forget them.

Frustrated because... God help you. You wanted it to happen again.

"How do you initiate sex?" You blurted out, glancing at Sunoo, who was casually fixing his hair in his compact mirror. "Like... how do you tell them you want to do it again?"

Sunoo froze, his reflection staring back at him before he slowly turned to you, eyes squinting in pure offense. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

You frowned. "Who else am I supposed to ask?"

He huffed, snapping his mirror shut. "Babe, first of all, I don't do seconds. If I hit once, it's a one-time event. No reruns." He gave you a pointed look. "But if you're desperate—which, let's be honest, you are—just text them 'hey, dtf?'"

You groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. "No! It's—ugh!" You covered your face, muffling another groan. "Nevermind! Fuck!" You give up as you threw your hands up in defeat.

"Hey!"

You jumped slightly at the sudden voice, turning to see Jake standing behind you, his usual bright smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, he reached out and ruffled Sunoo's hair, only to get a sharp slap on the back in response. Jake laughed but winced at the impact, rubbing the spot where Sunoo had hit him.

"Huh? Where's Jay?" You asked, glancing behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend.

"Studying," Jake replied with a shrug. Sitting beside you, settling himself in the ground.

"What?! Midterms just ended!" Sunoo huffed, crossing his arms. "Force your boyfriend to take a break! We were planning to get caramel macchiatos with you guys." He muttered, still fussing over his hair that Jake had messed up.

Jake chuckled. "I'd love to, but you know Jay. He's—"

"Anyways, Jake, how do you initiate sex?" Sunoo cut him off, completely changing the topic.

Your eyes widened in horror. "Sunoo!" You hissed, tugging on his arm, but he only grinned mischievously.

Jake blinked, tilting his head in confusion. "Uh... what?"

"She was asking me earlier," Sunoo continued, completely throwing you under the bus. "How to tell someone she wants to do it again."

Jake's mouth fell open slightly, then a slow smirk spread across his lips. His eyes glinted with amusement as he turned to you.

Your grip on Sunoo tightened, your face heating up instantly. "I wasn't—I didn't—" You shook your head frantically, staring at Jake in sheer embarrassment. "Ignore him!"

Jake's smirk deepened, but he played it cool,  "Oh? And who exactly are we talking about here?"

Your heart nearly stopped. The way his eyes glinted with mischief, the way his lips curled slightly at the edges—he knew. Oh, he fucking knew exactly what Sunoo was referring to. But he was pretending not to.

Sunoo hummed thoughtfully. "Good question! She won't tell me either. Probably some random guy who dicked her down so good she wants seconds."

You choked on your own breath. "Sunoo!"

Jake snorted, biting back a laugh, but his gaze never left you. "Hmm," he mused, tapping his chin dramatically. "Well, if I had to give some advice..." He trailed off, his eyes flickering with amusement as he watched you squirm.

You shot him a warning glare, silently pleading for him to drop it.

He didn't. "I'd say just be straightforward," Jake continued, completely ignoring your flustered expression. "Just shoot them a text, something like, 'Hey, I can't stop thinking about that night. Wanna make it happen again?'" He shrugged. "Easy."

Sunoo nodded in agreement. "See? That's what I told her! But nooo, she wants to overthink it."

You groaned, pressing your hands against your burning face. "I hate both of you."

Jake chuckled, leaning closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "So... is this mystery guy really that good?"

Your breath caught, eyes snapping up to meet his. There was teasing in his tone.  He was fucking with you.

Sunoo rolled his eyes. "Obviously, if she's still thinking about him. Poor girl's down bad."

Jake hummed, tilting his head. "Yeah... must've been one hell of a night."

Thankfully, the topic shifted. Sunoo, being Sunoo, effortlessly steered the conversation toward food and cafés, but by the time 2:00 rolled around, Sunoo stretched his arms with a dramatic sigh. "Alright, I'm out. Gotta visit Wonyoung before she thinks I've abandoned her."

You barely had time to nod before he turned to you with a knowing smirk. "Thank me later."

Your stomach dropped. The realization hit you, before you could stop him, Sunoo was already strutting away, leaving you alone. With Jake.

You were too close to Jake, yet somehow, it still wasn't enough. Your throat felt tight, your heart hammering in your chest as you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his presence.

"I—uh," you started, your voice barely steady, "d-don't mind what Sunoo said—"

Jake didn't even let you finish. "I've been waiting for the perfect moment to ask you myself," he cut in smoothly.

Your eyes snapping to his. There was something about the way he spoke, like he already knew what you wanted—like he could see right through you.

"Ask me what?" You hated how weak your voice sounded, how your throat felt suddenly dry.

Jake leaned in just slightly, enough for you to catch the faintest scent of his cologne. His gaze never wavered. "If you want to do it again."

Your stomach twisted, heat pooling low in your abdomen at the way he said it. His presence was overwhelming, and it took everything in you to stay still, to not shrink away from the intensity in his eyes.

"I'm not a natural talker," he admitted, his fingers brushing against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm not straightforward like Jay. But thank God for making things flow naturally my way." His lips curled into a small smirk, and before you could prepare yourself, he asked, "Did you miss us?"

Your pulse pounded. You shouldn't say it. You should make this harder for him, play coy, pretend you hadn't been thinking about them every damn night, imagining their hands, their mouths. But instead, the word slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

"Yes," you whispered.

Jake hummed, clearly pleased, but before he could say anything else, you hesitated. A weight sat heavy in your chest. "But Jay—" you paused, unsure how to phrase it without sounding pathetic. "Jay hates me."

Jake chuckled, shaking his head as if the idea itself was ridiculous. "Jay definitely does not hate you."

You frowned. "Then why—"

"He's just jealous." Jake cut you off, your heart stuttered. The idea was so absurd that it took a second to process.

"Jealous?" Your brows furrowed. "Of me?"

Jake's grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath fanning against your ear. "Of me."

Your breath caught, your mind struggling to keep up with what he was saying.

"He's jealous of me, baby," Jake murmured, his fingers tracing lightly against the inside of your wrist, his touch barely there, teasing but it makes your pulse jumped under his fingertips.

"Because I get to hug you," he continued, voice velvety smooth, almost hypnotic. "I get to nuzzle my head into your neck. I get your attention."

You exhaled sharply, your body tensing. The way he said it, like it was a privilege—like it was something Jay wanted.

Jake tilted his head, watching you carefully, eyes flickering with amusement. "Tell me," he whispered, his lips hovering just over your skin, "do you miss him too?"

He was toying with you, but damn it, it was working. You knew the answer before he even asked, but saying it out loud was dangerous. That was admitting to something you weren't sure you could handle.

Jake's fingers brushed against your wrist again, featherlight, teasing. He was waiting, watching for your reaction.

You swallowed, throat tight. "I—"

Jake smirked, sensing your hesitation. "You do, don't you?" You hated how easily he read you. How he knew exactly what buttons to press, exactly how to get under your skin.

You exhaled shakily, hands curling into fists on your lap. "If Jay's so jealous, then why does he act like he can't stand me?"

Jake hummed, considering. "Because Jay is a fucking idiot."

You blinked. "What?"

Jake leaned back slightly, arms crossing as he grinned at you. "He's stubborn. Prideful. And he's fighting something he doesn't want to admit."

You frowned, confused. "Fighting what?"

Jake tilted his head, studying you like you were missing something obvious. "You."

Your chest tightened. "Me?"

"You," Jake confirmed, grin widening. "He's pissed because he wants you. And because he doesn't know how to handle it, he's pushing you away instead."

Your stomach flipped. You had convinced yourself Jay hated you, that he regretted everything that happened. But now?

"You're lying." Your voice was weak, but you needed to say it. You needed to convince yourself that Jake was just messing with you.

Jake only chuckled. "Am I?"

You swallowed again, looking away, but Jake wasn't having it. He reached out, his fingers catching your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.

"Let me prove it to you," he murmured.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Prove it how?"

Jake smirked, his thumb brushing against your jaw. His next words sent a shiver straight down your spine.

"Let's give him something to be jealous about."

Desperation clouded every thought in your head, everything around you blurring into the background.

You barely remembered how you ended up stumbling into Jay's apartment, your lips locked feverishly with Jake's, hands grasping at each other like. Jay was out doing groceries. You had no idea when he'd be back. And maybe that was what made this so much hotter.

Anticipation coiled in your stomach, excitement tangled with nervous energy. How would Jay react if he walked in on this? Would he be pissed? The mere thought had heat pooling between your thighs, your panties dampening with want.

"Miss you," Jake whined against your lips, arms tightening around your waist. His movements were rushed, needy—like he'd been waiting for this, craving it just as much as you had. His lips parted against yours, the kiss turning sloppy, hot, all tongue and teeth as the two of you stumbled deeper into the apartment.

Neither of you cared to be careful. Jake kicked off his shoes with barely a thought, his fingers already fumbling with the buttons of your uniform blouse, eager to rid you of the fabric. You let him, hands curling around the back of his neck, tugging him down, pressing yourself against him.

Your back hit the couch, Jake's weight pressing into you, his hands tugging impatiently at your uniform. Your breath hitched as his fingers found the last button, parting the fabric to reveal the warmth of your skin. He groaned softly, dipping his head, his lips trailing down the side of your neck, sucking, licking, tasting.

Jake's lips hovered just over yours, teasing, making you chase him. His fingers trailed lower, ghosting over your ribs just enough to make your skin prickle with more anticipation.

"Remember what I told you?" He tilted his head, pressing a quick, featherlight kiss against your lips. But before you could answer, his fingers danced over your bra, fingertips teasing at the fabric, grazing over your already sensitive nipples. The sensation made you shiver, your back arching involuntarily, pressing your chest further into his touch.

A quiet whimper slipping from your lips, and Jake hummed approvingly. "Hey, baby, I asked you a question." Without warning, he tugged your bra down just enough to pinch your nipple between his fingers, rolling it between his fingertips, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure.

"Yes!" you gasped, your hands flying to wrap around his wrist, not to stop him—but to urge him for more. "Please!" Your body was burning with need, aching for him, for anything he'd give you.

Jake chuckled, his breath warm against your lips. "That's my girl," he murmured, before leaning down again, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. His tongue slid past your lips effortlessly, moving against yours.

You clung to him, fingers curling around the fabric of his uniform, tugging at it, silently begging him to take it off. He straightened, exhaling a sharp breath as he worked through each button, fumbling slightly when you kissed his neck, sucking gently at the skin just below his jaw.

"Ahh, fuck," he groaned, his breath hitching as you nipped lightly at his pulse point.

Taking advantage of the moment, you reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting it slide down your arms before tossing it aside. The cool air against your bare skin sent another shiver on you, but it was quickly replaced by heat as you hooked your fingers into your skirt, dragging it down along with your underwear.

The second Jake finished undressing, he was on you again, his plump lips crashing into yours with renewed hunger. His hands roamed greedily over your bare skin, mapping out every dip, every curve.

He pressed you further into the couch, one hand slipping between your legs, fingers grazing against your already soaked folds. He groaned at the wetness he found there, pulling back just enough to smirk against your lips.

"Fuck, baby," he murmured, his fingers sliding through your slick, teasing but not giving you what you wanted just yet. "You're dripping for me already."

You whimpered, hips shifting toward his hand, but he pulled away slightly, denying you the friction you needed.

"Patience," he cooed, his lips brushing over your jaw, down your throat, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "Let's take our time with this."

But you didn't want time. You wanted him. Now. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back up to crash your lips against his in a desperate kiss, your other hand reaching down, curling around his cock, stroking him slowly.

Jake groaned into your mouth, his hips twitching forward into your grip. "Fuck," he muttered, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. "You're gonna be the death of me."

And with that, he finally gave in, slipping a finger inside you, curling it just right, drawing a moan from your lips.

The two of you had long lost track of time, lost in the haze of pleasure, in the desperate push and pull of each other's bodies.

You didn't know how many times Jake had sunk himself deep inside you, how many times he had come, or how many times he had dragged another orgasm from your overstimulated body.

You were both drunk on each other—on the way his hands molded your body to fit against him, on the way your walls clenched around him so perfectly.

Your legs were pressed close to your chest, folded as Jake held you up, his arms wrapped under your thighs, supporting your weight as he thrust up into you. Your back arched against his chest, your head thrown back over his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as you let him take you.

"I-I can't! I'm cumming again!" You cry.

Jake's whines mixed with your cries, his lips dragging over your neck, pressing soft gentle kisses. His pace quickened, each thrust are harder. Your toes curled, your nails digging into his arms, unable to do anything but take what he gave you.

You were lost, drowning in the sensation, in the heat, in him, until his fingers tangled into your hair, yanking just enough to make your eyes snap open.

You gasped, your walls clenching involuntarily around him at the sudden shift, earning a deep groan from his throat. Your dazed mind barely had time to process what was happening before your blurry vision sharpened—and landed on the figure standing in the doorway.

"Hah! Nghh, fuck! J-Jake!"

Jay was standing in front of you, motionless, his hands clenched at his sides, eyes locked onto the scene before him.

"Oh," Jake exhaled, breathless despite the way his thrusts never faltered. He smirked, leaning in just beside your ear, loud enough for Jay to hear. "Look who finally showed up."

Panic surged through you, heat creeping up your neck. Instinctively wanting to cover yourself, but Jake's grip on your thighs tightened, he instead separate your legs,wide open for Jay to see.

The obscene view of where Jake's cock was buried deep inside you—slick, glistening, your walls clenching around him with every drag of his hips.

You gasped, squirming under Jake's hold, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Jake!" you whined, the desperate plea slipping from your lips. You knew exactly what he was doing, what game he was playing. But seeing Jay right in front of you made you feel too exposed.

"What the hell, Jake?" Jay gaze flickered between the two of you, his lips parting slightly as if struggling to find the right words. His nostrils flared, his breath uneven despite his stillness. "We were supposed to take things slow with her. That's what we agreed on."

Jake only chuckled, his amusement evident. Instead of slowing down, he snapped his hips harder, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls in a way that made your body jolt under him, your breasts bouncing with the impact. A sinful moan tore from your throat, your head falling back against his shoulder again.

"Surprise," Jake murmured, his smirk widening.

The word sent a shiver down your spine, a sharp flashback hitting you—the first time this happened, the way you had watched them, except now, the roles were reversed.

Jay was the one watching.

His hands twitched at his sides, his jaw locked so tight you thought it might snap. His eyes darkened, tracking every movement, every reaction, every shuddering breath you took.

His gaze dipped lower, settling between your legs, watching the way Jake stretched you open, how greedily your body took him. His Adam's apple bobbed, his breathing getting heavier.

He was pissed. You could tell by the way his fingers flexed, by the tension coiling through his frame.

"Can't blame me," Jake exhaled, groaning at the way your walls clenched around him. "I mean, you were too slow. Kept sending her mixed signals." He nuzzled into your neck, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your pulse, his breath warm against your damp skin. "Poor girl thought you hated her."

Jay's jaw ticked, his lips pressing into a thin line. His fists clenched tighter, the veins in his forearms standing out. He looked like he was on the verge of snapping.

Jake wasn't done. His fingers traced down your stomach, circling teasingly around your clit. He chuckled darkly, his eyes still locked on Jay. "She was too good to be true, Jay."

Jay remained silent, watching the scene you and Jake are making.

Jake smirked. "Did you know she's been taking medicines because you damaged her throat?"

Your breath hitched, eyes widening in panic. "Jake—"

You gripped onto his arms, a silent signal for him to stop, you did tell him that information but you didn't expect him to thrown it out there, in the middle of him fucking you, in the middle of Jay standing there, looking at you like he didn't know if he wanted to drag you into his arms or ruin you completely.

Jay stiffened at the sudden information, his eyes flickering briefly to your throat.

"But still, she wants us," Jake mused, his lips brushing your temple. His thrusts falter but still remain deep. "Still wants you."

Pleasure coiling in your stomach, overwhelming and intoxicating. You were right there, teetering on the edge.

"Jake, I'm close again!" you gasped, your voice trembling.

Jake didn't pull his gaze away from Jay, didn't even blink as he continued rolling his hips into you. His fingers never faltered against your clit, dragging you closer and closer to the brink. But he didn't let you fall—not yet.

"Do you think he deserves you, baby?" Jake asks you, still staring at Jay. You were too far gone, your mind hazy with pleasure, body trembling from the overwhelming sensations Jake was giving you. But even through the haze, you felt the weight of Jay's intense gaze on you.

Your breath hitching as you struggled to form words.

"J-Jay's been mean," you finally managed to stutter, voice shaky, breathless. Your legs twitched as the pleasure kept mounting

Jake hummed in agreement, tilting his head, his expression thoughtful as he slowed his movements, making you whimper in frustration. "Hmm, right?" His lips brushed against your ear. "He's been so mean to you."

You nodded desperately, your mind fogged with pleasure. Every nerve in you was on fire, desperate to finally tip over the edge.

"He should say sorry first, right?" Jake continued, his voice dripping with faux innocence as he looked back at Jay. His fingers on your clit stilled, applying just enough pressure to keep you on the edge but not enough to let you tip over.

Your breath hitched, your body twitching, so needy, so desperate. "Yes—fuck, yes."

"What the fuck?" Jay muttered, dripping with irritation. His patience was hanging by a thread, and Jake knew it.

Jake chuckled and feigned a pout. "Aww, see? Even she agrees. You've been such an asshole to her, Jay. Shouldn't you at least apologize?" His voice was sickeningly sweet, but the way his hips moved against yours, the way he continued to play with you, was anything but innocent.

Jay inhaled sharply, not please with any of this.

"Maybe," Jake drawled, "if you get down on your knees and apologize, she might forgive you."

Jay's nostrils flared. His gaze flickered between you and Jake, his fists tightening. "You're fucking kidding me," he said through gritted teeth.

Jake only grinned, his fingers finally starting to move against your clit again, making you gasp, your back arching into him.

"Not at all," Jake mused. "But, hey, if you don't want her that bad..."

"I guess I'll just keep her all to myself."

You forced your eyes open, looking at Jay—really looking at Jay. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling unevenly. But it was the way his eyes darkened, the way his gaze flickered to where Jake disappeared inside you over and over again,

You whimpered, half-lidded eyes darting down—right to the prominent bulge in his pants. Your mouth went dry. He was hard. So fucking hard.

Jake felt the way your walls clenched tighter, and he groaned, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. "Oh, baby," he cooed, "are you looking at him?"

"J-Ja—" You gasped. You couldn't hold back anymore. The pressure was unbearable, the fire burning through every inch of you. You moaned his name again, this time louder.

Please give in, please give in, please give in.

"Jake's making me feel so good, Jay!"

Jake groaned behind you, his hips snapping faster, chasing his own high. Your whole body convulsed, legs shaking violently as pleasure crashed through you.

A scream ripped from your throat, loud, raw—so much so that Jake had to clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds as his own breath hitched.

"Fuck," Jake gasped, his rhythm faltering as your walls tightened around him, making it almost impossible to move. He buried himself deep inside you, his breath coming out in ragged pants.

Your vision blurred, your body shaking from the intensity.

But then, you saw Jay, slowly, hesitantly, lowering himself to his knees in front of you.

"Jake," you breathe. You are overstimulated, exhausted, yet somehow—aching for more. The lingering echoes of your orgasm pulsed through your veins, but the sight of Jay kneeling between your legs sent another rush of heat straight to your core.

"That's it, baby," Jake murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction as he pressed soft kisses to your shoulder, his grip on your waist. "Let him see how good you look like this. Let him know who you really want."

A whimper escaped your lips, your body instinctively arching, pushing closer to Jay, despite the sensitivity.

Jay pride had been a stubborn thing, keeping him in denial, making him push you away. But now, as he knelt before you, his fingers flexing as if restraining himself from reaching out—he finally admitted it.

He wanted you.

Jake chuckled lowly, sensing the shift, his hold on you tightening as he spread your legs even wider, exposing every inch of you.

Then, with a teasing hum, Jake pulled out of you, his cock slipping free from your swollen, overstimulated cunt. The sudden emptiness made you whine, your walls fluttering around nothing, aching for the fullness you'd just lost.

"Fuck," Jake groaned, his hands flexing on your thighs. "Look at her, Jay. So fucking pretty like this."

Jay's eyes darkened as they dropped between your legs. His chest rose and fell sharply as he watched—his gaze fixed on the sight of his boyfriend's cum slowly dripping from your pussy, the way your cunt clenched involuntarily, like it was still hungry for more.

"Look at him," Jake whispered, the teasing lilt in his voice sending made you even wetter. "He wants to taste you, baby. Can you see it?"

You swallowed thickly, your fingers gripping onto Jake's arm for support. Your eyes fluttered down, meeting Jay's.

"J-Jay," you finally managed to breathe out.

Jay hands finally moving—gripping your thighs, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh. He leaned in, just close enough for you to feel the ghost of his breath against your still-sensitive skin.

His eyes flickered up, locking onto yours, and, he let you see it.

The gaze of hunger, want, need.

Jake chuckled once again, satisfied. "There you go, baby," he murmured, running his fingers along your stomach, feeling the way your body reacted to Jay's touch. "Now tell him—does he deserve a taste?"

Your breath hitched, heat crawling up your skin. The moment felt surreal—Jay, the man who spent weeks glaring at you, the man who made you feel small with just a look, was now on his knees, waiting.

"M-maybe if he a-apologizes," you stuttered, barely able to get the words out.

Jake chuckled against your neck. "You heard her, Jay," he said as his hand moved to cup your breast, kneading it in slow, deliberate motions. "Apologize."

Jay's jaw clenched, his hands tightening around your thighs as he stared at the two of you. He didn't know what kind of game this was, but fuck—he was getting tired of playing from the sidelines.

"Is your pride really that high?" Jake mused, fingers pinching at your nipple, making you whimper. He kissed the side of your temple, his tone light, teasing. "She said apologize."

Jay hesitated. His pride had always been his downfall, the thing that kept him from saying what needed to be said. But right now, with you trembling before him, with Jake so effortlessly pulling you apart—he knew he had no choice.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, grip tightening on your thighs.

Your breath hitched, the roughness in his voice sending a spark of excitement. Remembering Jake's plan, you frowned, your hands moving on their own, swatting at his hands.

"Not like that," you mumbled, half-lidded eyes peering down at him.

Jake hummed, his lips curling into a smirk as he ran soothing circles on your thigh. "Is that how you apologize?" He tsked, feigning disappointment. "Be sincere, Jay."

Your body leaned further into Jake, nuzzling against his neck. The sight made Jay's eye twitch. His patience was running thin.

"I'm sorry," he tried again, the words heavier this time.

Jake exhaled through his nose, fingers slipping between your folds once more. "She can't hear you," he teased, his tone singsong. His fingers pushed deeper, curling inside you.

Jay gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling inside him. "I said I'm sorry," he repeated, his fingers digging into your thighs.

Jake nipped at your ear, dragging his fingers along your walls at an unbearable pace. Your head lolled to the side, eyes locking onto Jay, pupils blown wide.

"Again," Jake commanded.

Jay exhaled sharply, his nails pressing into your skin. "I'm so sorr—"

Before he could finish, Jake suddenly withdrew his fingers and your hands shot out, gripping Jay's hair, pulling him closer.

Jay barely had time to react before his face was buried between your legs, his nose bumping against your clit.

You gasped, a loud, uncontrollable moan ripping from your throat. Jay stiffened, his hands instinctively gripping your thighs tighter.

"Fuck!" you cried out when you felt Jay's tongue slip inside you, the wet heat sending your mind into a spiral.

Instinctively, your grip on his hair tightened, but his hands kept you in place, stopping you from moving too much.

Jake clicked his tongue at the sight, smirking as he reached down and swatted at Jay's hands, forcing them to let go. He laced his fingers with Jay's instead, squeezing them tight

"Planning to give her more bruises? Is that how you apologize?" Jake teased, watching Jay's brows furrow in frustration.

The moment Jay's hold on you loosened, your body instantly relaxed, and you took advantage of it—hips rolling forward, grinding against his face. Jay let out a muffled grunt, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

Your mouth fell open, breath coming in shaky gasps. "Are you even sincere, Jongie?" You exhaled, your grip easing slightly on his hair. "Maybe me and Jakey should just go to the bedroom and leave you out here all alone..."

Jay's response was immediate, his head shook fervently, tongue angling to flick against your clit before dragging down your folds.

Jake hummed in satisfaction, his fingers tightening around Jay's as he grinded his half-hard cock against your back. "Say sorry to her again," he commanded.

Jay shot him a glare, frustration evident in the sharpness of his gaze. How the fuck was he supposed to apologize when you kept grinding your cunt against his face, making it harder to focus? The constant brush of his nose against your clit, the way your slick coated his lips, the way your hips moved to chase your own pleasure.

He barely had room to breathe, but instead of pulling away, he let his tongue flatten, licking a long, slow stripe up your slit, tasting the mix of you and his boyfriend's fluid.

Jake let out a small chuckle at Jay's obvious struggle. "Come on, baby," he crooned, pressing a teasing kiss against the shell of your ear. "Make him say it properly."

You smile, just barely, though your voice trembled as you spoke. "Apologize, Park Jongseong."

Jay groaned, his entire face tensing before he finally gave in.

"I'm sorry," he gritted out against your cunt, the sound of his muffled desperate voice, combined with the way his mouth moved against you, made your legs tremble.

A choked moan escaped you as your fingers tangled deeper into his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

"I'm close again," you whined, breath hitching as another wave of pleasure built inside you.

Jake hummed, thoughtful, his grip tightening around Jay's hand as he whispered, "Think you can take another one, baby?"

Through the haze of your arousal, you nodded quickly, too desperate to think of anything else.

Jay rolled his eyes at your eagerness before pressing his tongue deeper into your heat, the slick sound of his mouth working against you making your entire body shudder. His tongue curled inside you, swirling, tasting, fucking into you like he was starved.

A strangled whimper tore from your lips, your back arching as your senses blurred into overwhelming pleasure. You could barely think, barely breathe. The sheer intensity of it had your mind spinning, and you almost swore you saw the gates of heaven open for you.

Muttering incoherent words, your hands scrambled for something to hold onto—Jake's arm, Jay's hair, the couch beneath you.

"Yes! Right there!" you cried out.

Jay's eyes flicked up, peering through his lashes, and his cock twitched painfully at the sight before him.

You and Jake were kissing. Sloppy, heated, tongues sliding against each other. Jake swallowed your moans eagerly, rolling his hips into your back, panting softly into your mouth.

Your nipples were painfully hard, your chest rising and falling in time with the pleasure coursing through you. Beads of sweat trickled down your skin, glistening under the dim light, sliding from your collarbone down to your navel, following every curve of your trembling body.

Jay groaned at the sight, a deep, guttural sound vibrating through his throat.

Both of you were too fucking hot.

The way you came undone against his mouth, the way Jake lost himself in the feeling of you. It was too much. His cock throbbed painfully against the fabric of his pants, aching for relief, for attention, for you.

Jake pulled away from the kiss just enough to smirk, his lips swollen and wet. "You enjoying the show?" he teased.

Jay didn't answer. Instead, he doubled down, tongue working furiously against your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. If Jake thought he had the upper hand, Jay was more than willing to prove him wrong.

And judging by the way your body tensed, by the way your moans became louder, higher—he was succeeding.

Jay was lapping up everything you gave him, his mouth completely fixated on making you fall apart over and over again. The wet sounds of his tongue working against you mixed with your breathless whimpers, making the room feel unbearably hot.

"Fuck—Jay!" you sobbed, hands fisting into his hair, tugging at the strands in desperation. Your thighs twitched, trembling with the threat of overstimulation, but Jay didn't slow down. If anything, he only got rougher, hungrier.

Jake chuckled lowly, his lips ghosting over your temple before moving down to your jaw, then your neck, pressing light teasing kisses there. "Look at you... So fucking wrecked," he murmured.

Jake let go of Jay's hand, refocusing his attention on you, his fingers toying with your nipple—tweaking, rolling it in time with Jay's movements.

"You're close again, aren't you?" Jake whispered, lips curving against your skin.

You nodded weakly, unable to form words, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure built up inside you. It was almost too much—almost unbearable. They were both completely focused on you, every touch, every movement designed to push you further over the edge.

Jay's hands went to gripped your thighs, keeping you locked in place as he worked his tongue against you with ruthless precision.

"J-Jay—" you gasped, thighs threatening to clamp around his head, but his grip was firm, keeping them spread wide.

Jake exhaled sharply, his hips pressing tighter against your back, grinding into you as he watched. "That's it, baby," he encouraged, "let go. Make a mess all over his face."

Jay growled against you, and that was it.

Your orgasm slammed into you again, tearing through your body violently, leaving you shaking, gasping, completely wrecked. Your walls clenched around nothing.

Jay groaned, drinking in everything, his tongue flicking against you a few more times, pushing you through every last tremor. He didn't let up until you physically tried to push him away, whimpering from the overstimulation.

"Fuck," Jake muttered, watching the way your body slumped against him, your chest heaving, your skin flushed with heat. He pressed another lingering kiss against your temple, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

Jay finally pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips glistening. His dark eyes flickered up to meet yours—hooded.

Jake's fingers tilted your chin up, guiding your gaze to him as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours softly.

Then, his touch disappeared. He turned, grabbing Jay by the nape, pulling him in. You exhaled shakily, watching as their lips crashed together.

Your stomach tightened at the sight, the heat between them palpable. Jake didn't waste any time, licking along Jay's lips before dipping lower, dragging his tongue down his chin, licking up every last trace of you that lingered there. Jay let out a low groan, gripping Jake's wrist tightly as their mouths moved together

"Bedroom," Jake muttered against Jay's lips, breaking apart.

Jake lift you effortlessly into his arms. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, your legs tightening around his waist.

Over Jake's shoulder, you caught Jay's eyes still watching you like he was trying to figure out what to do with you.

Jake carefully lowered you onto the bed, his lips trailing down your jaw, peppering soft kisses along your throat, his hands firm as they spread your legs apart. But your attention drifted beyond him, straight to Jay, who was already pulling off his clothes impatiently, eyes never leaving the two of you.

The moment he was fully bare, Jake smirked, reaching for him again, pulling him down for another kiss.

You laid back against the pillows, legs still spread, your fingers instinctively trailing down your stomach, teasing along your sensitive folds, rubbing slow, lazy circles against your clit as you watched them.

"Come on, lay down," Jake murmured against Jay's lips before pulling away, pushing Jay onto the mattress.

The second Jay's back hit the bed, you and Jake exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between you.

Jay let out a sharp exhale as you swung your leg over him, straddling his thighs, your fingers trailing down the length of his cock. He twitched beneath your touch, eyes locked onto you.

You slowly rolled your hips forward, grinding against him, teasing the thick length of him against your folds, already dripping for him.

Jay groaned, hands instinctively moving to grip your waist—but before he could, Jake grabbed his wrists, pressing them down into the mattress.

"Hands off," Jake said, "you were too rough on her last time."

Jay gritted his teeth, glaring up at him. "No, I'm tired of playing whatever fucking game you two are—"

Jake cut him off by shoving his cock past his lips, silencing him instantly.

Jay's eyes widened, hands flying to Jake's hips, but Jake didn't budge, instead pushing himself deeper into Jay's mouth, letting out a breathy moan at the feeling of Jay's throat constricting around him.

"Fuck, yeah—" Jake groaned, his fingers tightening in Jay's hair.

Jay let out a muffled grunt, struggling against him, but you didn't give him a chance to resist further.

You sank down on him in one slow, deliberate motion.

A strangled noise tore from Jay's throat—half a groan, half a muffled curse—completely swallowed by Jake's cock still buried in his mouth.

Your head tipped back, your mouth falling open as the thick stretch of him filled you.

"Fuck!" you whimpered, hands on his abdomen for support. "Too big—"

Jay groaned beneath you, his hips twitching with the urge to thrust up, to take control—but Jake wasn't letting him. His hands remained firm on Jay's wrists, pinning them against his waist, making sure he stayed right where he was.

"You're so sexy, fuck," Jake murmured as he watched you struggle to take all of Jay. "So fucking full."

Your head tipped back, your lips parted, a whimper escaping you as you rocked your hips experimentally. Jay's cock twitched inside you, the thick stretch still bordering on painful—but the way he filled you, the way your walls clenched instinctively around him, made the burn feel so, so good.

Beneath you, Jay let out a frustrated growl, the vibrations from his throat sending jolts of pleasure straight through Jake's cock still buried between his lips. His nails dug deeper into Jake's hips, leaving crescent-shaped marks against his skin.

Jake hissed at the sensation, eyes darkening as he glanced down at him. "Getting impatient, baby?"

Jay glared up at him, unable to answer, his mouth still full. But the look he shot Jake was nothing short of a warning—one that promised payback the moment he got his hands free.

Jake smirked. "Too bad."

With that, he rolled his hips forward, pressing himself deeper into Jay's throat, making him gag slightly. At the same time, you shifted, rolling your hips again.

Jay's body tensed, his muffled groan vibrating around Jake's cock, making Jake shudder. "Fuck, that's it, baby," Jake rasped, "take it like a good boy."

You whimpered at the filthy sight in front of you—the way Jay's mouth stretched around Jake, the way his throat bobbed, the way his cock twitched inside you every time he moaned. It was too much.

Slowly, you move your hands on Jay's chest for balance, bracing yourself before you lifted your hips, only to slam them back down again.

Jay's reaction was instant. His whole body jerked, a choked noise escaping him.

You gasped at the feeling, the stretch, the way he filled you so completely.

Jake chuckled breathlessly. "Fuck, baby," he murmured, watching the way Jay's body tensed.

"He's losing his mind already."

You sighs, rolling your hips again, this time slower, dragging out the sensation.

"I don't think he's really sorry," you murmured, pouting down at him, fingers trailing over his chest.

Jake let out a low chuckle, his own hips rolling forward, forcing another muffled groan from Jay's throat. "You hear that, babe?" he mused. "You're being mean again."

Jay's eyes snapped up to you and when he tried to move, Jake tightened his grip on his wrists, keeping him in place.

"Be a good boy," Jake taunted, a wicked grin on his face. "Then maybe—just maybe—we'll let you fuck her the way you want to."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled around Jake's cock, the words muffled but there.

You shift your hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding down on him just to watch him squirm.

Jay let out a muffled curse, his whole body trembling beneath you. His tongue flicked desperately against Jake's cock, his throat tightening around him as he tried again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Jake cursed under his breath, looking down at Jay. His boyfriend's eyes were glossy, a tear slipping from the corner of one as he struggled to hold himself back.

"Fuck," Jake whispered, pulling away, his hand coming down to swipe the tear away with his thumb.

Jay exhaled sharply, his lips slick and swollen, his eyes burning into Jake's. "Please," he rasped, voice hoarse. His gaze flickered to you, "let me touch her already."

Jake was loving every second of this, watching Jay unravel, his pride stripped away. It reminded him of the first time they ever did this, when Jay had pretended he didn't want it, when he had fought it tooth and nail—until he couldn't anymore.

Until he was begging for it, just like this.

And God, Jake had missed it. Seeing Jay like this. Watching him break down, surrender to his own desires.

Jake smirked, letting go of his wrists. "Be gentle with her," he murmured, though the words carried no real weight. He knew Jay well enough to know he was barely capable of gentleness right now.

The moment his hands were free, Jay's fingers shot to your waist, gripping you tight. His breath shuddered as he finally felt you, the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips, the way your walls clenched down around him so perfectly.

"Fuck," he hissed, his head tipping back for just a second before his gaze snapped back to you. He gave your waist a slow, experimental roll, guiding you against him.

Jay groaned, his hands sliding from your waist down to your thighs, squeezing, spreading them wider. Then, with agonizing slowness, he moved upward again—over the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, up to your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers just enough to make you gasp.

Anticipation crawling down your spine as his touch moved higher, his fingers brushing against your throat. Your eyes widened, breath stammering at what he was about to do—

But then he sat up, his grip shifting, his lips ghosting over your collarbone before trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

The unexpected gentleness made your chest tighten. This wasn't the rough, punishing Jay you thought he would be.

"That's what she likes," Jake muttered. He had positioned himself beside you, stroking himself lazily as he watched the way your body arched against Jay's, completely entranced by the sight.

Jay's hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he rolled his hips upward, sinking deeper into your heat. A sharp gasp tore from your lips, your body instinctively adjusting, your back curving as your hands braced against his knees.

Jay groaned at the way you clenched around him, his fingers tightening against your waist, but he let you move at your own pace, letting you take what you needed.

"Ahhh, fuck!" you moaned, tilting your head back, surrendering to the feeling.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath beside you, his hand moving faster, grip tightening as he struggled to keep control. He had been holding back, savoring the view—watching the way Jay stretched you open.

But the moment he saw it. The outline of Jay's cock pressing against your stomach, the proof of just how deep he was inside you.

Jake's breath hitched, his restraint snapping instantly. His body tensed, muscles locking as a deep, guttural moan ripped from his throat. His release hit hard, ropes of hot cum streaking across your chest, trailing up to your throat. A few stray drops landed on your lips, warm and sticky.

"Goddamn it," Jake groaned, hating the sudden force of his release.

Jay exhaled sharply as he fought the urge to flip you over and take control. Instead, he leaned in, his tongue darting out to lap up the mess Jake had made on your skin. Wet strokes traced from your chest up to your chin.

A moan slipped past your lips as the sensation made your hips grind down harder, each movement pressing Jay deeper inside you, the head of his cock brushing dangerously close to your cervix.

Your fingers threaded through his hair as he kissed you, swallowing the gasp that escaped when his tongue slipped past your parted lips. He groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening on your waist.

Jay was grateful you weren't much of a talker because if you so much as whispered something filthy in his ear, he'd lose it right then and there. But the way you gasped? The breathy little whimpers spilling past your lips? Fuck, that wasn't helping either.

A low whine came from behind you, and then Jake pressed himself against your back, refusing to be left out. His warm breath fanned against your ear as he reached around, one hand claiming your breast, kneading. The other hand trailed lower, brushing over your clit.

"W-wait—too much," you panted, pulling back slightly, your hands weakly pressing against their chests. Jay barely let you go, his lips chasing yours as if he couldn't stand the distance.

Jake hushed you, pressing a lingering kiss against the side of your face. "Just one more, baby," he pleaded. His forehead rested against yours, his moans intertwining with yours as he watched Jay's expression shift—his brows knitting, jaw clenched, eyes fluttering shut as he snapped his hips up, hitting deeper, harder.

Your head tipped back with a cry, thighs trembling as the pleasure became a bit much.

"Just one more," Jake whispered again, his fingers working your clit in slow, teasing circles. "I know you can take it." 

"Fuck, I can't! I can't!" You shook your head wildly, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks. It was too much, too intense. You don't really know if you can handle another one again.

But your helpless cries only seemed to spur them on.

Jake groaned,  his hand tightening around your breast. "You're crying again," he murmured, more to himself. "So fucking pretty."

Jay's breath hitched beneath you, his grip bruising against your waist. "Jake, keep doing that—I'm gonna cum," he gritted out.

You could barely move anymore. Your body was trembling violently, you continue to shake your head, wanting to get up and take a break but Jake didn't let up, his fingers relentless, rubbing tight circles against your swollen clit. 

"You're taking it so well, baby," he praised. "Come on—let go again for us."

Your vision blurred, your breath caught in your throat as a scream tore from your lips. Your body convulsed, an electric shock of ecstasy tearing through every nerve ending. Your walls clenched around Jay, milking him, you didn't know orgasm could be this good. and the feeling make him lose his mind.

"Shit—fuck!" Jay's hips stuttered, his body tensing beneath you as he continue to thrust up, spilling deep inside you with a rough groan.

His fingers dug into your flesh, holding you flush against him, making sure you took every last drop.

The overstimulation sent you spiraling again, a second orgasm ripping through you, a broken sob leaving your lips as you soaked his stomach.

Jake moaned, his own hand stroking himself, eyes locked on the way your body twitched helplessly.

Jay let out a heavy breath, his head dropping back against the pillows, chest heaving. His fingers traced the curve of your spine absentmindedly. You collapsed against him, legs still shaking, your mind floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion.

Jake's hands wrapped around your waist, dragging you away from Jay's warmth. You whimpered, your body too spent to resist. 

"Please," Jake murmured against your skin, lips pressing gentle kisses down your back, "one more, okay? It'll be fast, I promise."

A shaky sob left your lips. Your body was marked, every inch of your skin imprinted with their touch—bruised fingers on your hips, deep red marks across your thighs. 

You were sore, completely and utterly spent. You whisper a small "okay", praying to be done already.

Jake groaned in approval, tilting your hips up. His fingers spread over the swell of your ass, cursing under his breath as he watched Jay's cum drip from your hole.

"Holy shit," he exhaled, running his thumb through the mess before pressing it inside, watching it disappear into your heat. Your entire body twitched, another weak whine slipping past your lips.

Jay let out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. He didn't think it was possible for him to be hard again so soon, but watching you collapse under Jake's touch—watching his own release spill from you, slicking up Jake's length as he slowly pressed inside—had his cock twitching to life.

"Oh my God," Jake groaned, sinking in inch by inch. The glide was effortless, Jay's cum making it easier for him to push into your overstimulated body. You were shaking beneath him, your fingers curling desperately into the bedsheets.

Jay shifted beside you, he propped himself up, watching as Jake started to move. His hand trailed down his own stomach, fingers wrapping around himself, already hard again.

Jake's rhythm grew faster, his nails digging into your waist as he slammed himself deeper, watching more of Jay's release spill down into your thigh with every thrust, no space available inside. 

"F-fuck, so hot." he stuttered, his voice breaking into a whine. His jaw clenched as he watched the obscene way his cock disappeared inside you.

Jay grip your chin, tilting your head towards him. Your tongue lolled slightly, your breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Jay cursed under his breath at the sight, his strokes growing rougher on himself.

Jake let out a strangled moan. His pace turned erratic, hips snapping against yours desperately as he buried himself deep one last time, spilling inside you with a low, drawn-out groan.

"I can't! S-Stop!" You broke. Another pleasure hitting you in waves so intense it stole the breath from your lungs. Your back arched as your walls clenched down on Jake, milking every last drop from him. 

Your eyes rolled back, lips parting in a silent cry.

Jay let out a sharp breath, the image of you alone pushing him over the edge. His release spilling hot and messy across your face, dripping down your chin, pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Jake slumped forward against you, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, still catching his breath. Jay breathe, hand lazily brushing against your cheek, smearing the mess across your skin.

"Perfect," Jay muttered.

Jake hummed in agreement, shifting slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. "You did so good, hmm?" His voice was soft, full of warmth.

Your limbs were too heavy, your body sinking into the mattress. A weak whimper left your lips as you nuzzled deeper into the sheets, seeking warmth, comfort.

And just like the last time—you passed out.

Jake was the first to notice, lifting his head slightly to glance down at you. His lips curled into a tired smile before he carefully shifted, pulling out of you as gently as he could. You whimpered in protest at the loss, but Jay's hands were already smoothing over your skin, grounding you.

"She's out," Jake murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

Jay huffed, stretching his arms before moving. "Come on, let's get her cleaned up."

Between the two of them, they carried you to the bathroom, handling your limp body with surprising gentleness. The warm water cascaded down your skin, Jake chuckled when your head lolled against Jay's shoulder, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"She sleeps like a baby," Jake mused, reaching for a washcloth.

Jay, who was carefully holding you upright, rolled his eyes. "No shit. You wore her out."

Jake only laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before rinsing you off.

Once you were clean and dry, Jay carried you back to bed while Jake changed the sheets, replacing them with fresh ones. He pulled the blanket over your bare body, making sure you were warm before slipping in beside you.

This time, you didn't wake up alone. 

Your eyes fluttered open. The first thing you noticed was warmth. A solid weight pressed against you from both sides.

Jake's arm was draped over your shoulder, pulling you flush against his chest. His face was nestled against your hair, his breath slow and deep as he snored softly.

Another hand rested against your waist, fingers barely curled against your skin. Blinking sluggishly, you tilted your head slightly, your heart stammering at the sight behind you. 

Jay was there—his body pressed firmly against your back, his face relaxed in a way you'd never seen before. No furrowed brows, no tight-lipped frown. Just stillness. The quiet rise and fall of his chest against you.

His grip on your waist was loose, as if he had reached for you in his sleep without thinking.

A small, unexpected smile tugged at your lips. You let your eyes flutter shut again, exhaling softly. This time, as sleep pulled you under, you let yourself sink into their warmth.

Sunoo eyed you suspiciously as he pulled out a chair beside you, dropping two plastic bottles onto the table with a dull thud.

"Good mood?" he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You stretched your arms, a slow smile spreading across your lips. "Yeah, got the best sleep of my life."

Jay, who had just settled his laptop and books on the table, barely spared you a glance.

Sunoo hummed. "You said we were gonna hit the café today. What about later?"

Before you could answer, Jay cut in without looking up. "We're starting chapter four."

Sunoo blinked at him in disbelief. "What the fuck? Give me some slack! We'll do our part, just let us relax for once."

You laughed at his whining, your gaze flickering to Jay for a brief moment before reaching for one of the bottles. You twisted the cap, but it barely budged.

"God, do not buy this brand again," you groaned, straining against the stubborn lid. "It's impossible to open."

Sunoo grunted in agreement, grabbing his own bottle to try, only to meet the same struggle. "Shit, seriously. What is this? Childproof or some shit?"

Before either of you could complain further, Jay reached out, taking the bottle from your hands without a word. Effortlessly, he twisted the cap open and set it back down in front of you.

Your fingers twitched slightly, the unexpected gesture catching you off guard. Sunoo, mid-sulk, blinked at Jay in mild shock.

Jay, noticing the stare, let out a quiet sigh before grabbing Sunoo's bottle too. He twisted it open just as easily and placed it in front of him. 

"You’re welcome," Jay muttered, already flipping open his laptop. Sunoo stared at the bottle, then at you, then back at Jay like he had just witnessed a supernatural event.

"Jake will be here in an hour," Jay continued, completely unbothered. "We can go to the café you wanted after we start working on the results and findings."

Sunoo’s mouth dropped open slightly, his brain short-circuiting. But instead of responding, he reached under the table and pinched your arm—hard.

You flinched, glaring at him. "Ow! What the hell?" you hissed.

But Sunoo was too busy silently squealing, his eyes wide with barely contained excitement as he watched Jay sit down, fully immersed in your research.

"Wow! You’re in a good mood too!" Sunoo blurted out, his voice slightly high-pitched with suppressed glee.

Jay didn’t even look up. "No, I just want to get this over with."

Sunoo shot you a pointed look, wiggling his brows. but you ignored him, focusing on your screen.

The three of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, typing away, until the familiar sound of footsteps approached. Before you could react, Jake appeared behind you, nuzzling his cheek against yours with a content hum.

"Missed me?" he teased, before pulling back to press a quick kiss on Jay’s temple, his arms sneaking around his boyfriend’s waist.

Sunoo wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, can you two not?"

Jake only grinned, unbothered, before turning his attention back to you. "So, café time?"

You perked up, excitement buzzing through you. "Yes! I’ve been waiting all day to try that matcha-strawberry drink."

Sunoo clapped his hands together. "Finally, a reward for my suffering!"

Without hesitation, you pushed back your chair and stood up, eager to leave. Jake and Sunoo flanked you immediately, chatting animatedly about the menu, already making plans to order half the pastries just to "test them out properly."

As the three of you made your way down the hallway, you couldn’t help but peek over your shoulder.

Jay was trailing behind as usual, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, his pace slower.

Without thinking, you pulled away from Sunoo and Jake, slowing your steps until you were beside him. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around his, tugging him forward. 

"Come on, walk faster. We're starving for sweets already," you whispered, your voice light and teasing.

Jay stiffened for a second, his eyes flicking down to where you held onto him. But then, his shoulders relaxed, and to your surprise, the corner of his lips quirked up in the faintest half-smile.

Jake, watching the scene unfold, let out a small, pleased hum. His lips curled in amusement before he smoothly moved to Jay’s other side, slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.

Sunoo, who had been watching with wide eyes, suddenly grinned. "Well, well, well," he muttered under his breath, clearly enjoying whatever was happening. Then, without hesitation, he threw himself onto your other side, dramatically resting his head against your shoulder.

The four of you continued walking, your steps now in sync, voices mixing together in overlapping conversation.

As you walked, still nestled against Jay’s side, you squinted at Jake, who was already watching you with mischief in his eyes.

Jake stuck his tongue out playfully, then made a ridiculous face, his brows wiggling as he tried to get a reaction out of you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the small smile creeping onto your lips.

Jay, stuck in the middle, let out a grunt, clearly unimpressed. "Do you two ever stop?" he muttered. 

Jake only grinned wider. "Nope."

Jay huffed, but his attention flickered to you again. He watched the way your eyes softened whenever you looked at Jake, the way your laughter was bright, effortless.

He had convinced himself that his irritation, his short fuse around you, was justified. That pushing you away, acting indifferent, was the only way to keep things from spiraling out of control. But now, walking beside you, his arm still loosely wrapped around your frame, he felt something shift.

Jay didn’t feel that usual, biting irritation clawing at his chest and more importantly—he wasn’t so sour about it.

[zeroseuniverse]

Hiiii! I just read the s.coups as a lovesick fool who's absolutely whipped for his gf even though he's a gang leader and I have to say girl you slayed . I dont know if you take requests but could you please write about their love story or how he fell for her ? It would be so cuteeee.

Love Sick Fool II

Word Count: 1.5K Summary:"Boss, why are we here again?" "Coffee's decent." "Hyung, you don't even like coffee." "Shut up, Mingyu." Pairing: S.coups X reader

Taglist: @haaruki  @agaha127 @zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120  @ltfirecracker

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The first time Seungcheol saw you, you were nothing more than a passing presence in a world he ruled with an iron fist. He was used to people avoiding his gaze, lowering their heads in fear or respect. But you? You looked right at him.

It wasn’t a challenge, nor was it admiration. It was a simple glance—curious, unafraid.

And that was enough to make him pause.

You were working at a small café, one he only stepped into because Joshua insisted they needed a place to lay low for an hour. It was nothing special—at least, it shouldn't have been. But the moment you approached the table, notebook in hand, Seungcheol felt something shift.

“What can I get for you?”

Your voice was light, patient, not at all like the people who usually spoke to him with nervous energy or calculated charm. He was about to answer when Jeonghan spoke up first.

“An americano for me, please,” Jeonghan said smoothly, flashing you a practiced smile.

Seungcheol expected you to melt the way most people did under Jeonghan’s charm. Instead, you barely spared him a glance as you jotted down the order.

“And for you?” you asked, looking directly at Seungcheol.

For some reason, it took him a second too long to answer. He was used to commanding a room, controlling situations, but here you were—entirely unaffected, treating him like just another customer.

Joshua nudged him, amusement flickering in his eyes. Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Same. Americano.”

“Got it.”

That should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve walked away, and he should’ve returned to discussing business. But as you turned, someone at a nearby table bumped into you, causing the tray you were carrying to tilt. In a split second, Seungcheol’s hand shot out, steadying the tray before it could fall.

You blinked, surprised, before offering a small smile. “Good reflexes.”

He let go of the tray, fingers lingering for just a second too long. “Comes with the job.”

You didn’t ask what that job was. Maybe you already knew. Maybe you didn’t care. Either way, you simply gave a nod before walking off.

Seungcheol watched you go, an unfamiliar weight settling in his chest.

Jeonghan smirked. “That was interesting.”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol muttered, but even as they went back to their conversation, his mind kept wandering back to you.

Over the next few weeks, he found excuses—ridiculous, unnecessary excuses—to stop by the café.

"Boss, why are we here again?"

"Coffee's decent."

"Hyung, you don't even like coffee."

"Shut up, Mingyu."

Every time he walked in, you’d greet him with the same calm, easy presence. You never pried, never tiptoed around him like others did. Instead, you teased him about ordering the same drink every time, raised an eyebrow when he lingered too long after closing, and even smirked once when he threatened a guy outside the shop—completely unfazed by the power he held.

He couldn’t figure you out.

And that drove him crazy.

Until one night, when he walked in just as some drunk idiot was grabbing your wrist.

Seungcheol didn’t think—he acted.

In seconds, the guy was shoved against the counter, Seungcheol’s forearm pressing into his throat. “You have three seconds to apologize before you regret ever walking in here.”

The man stammered, clearly regretting all his life choices. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Leave.”

The guy bolted.

Seungcheol turned back to you, expecting fear, maybe even shock. Instead, you sighed, shaking your head. “You’re really dramatic, you know that?”

He stared. “Excuse me?”

You crossed your arms. “I could’ve handled him.”

He scoffed. “Yeah? And what were you gonna do, throw a sugar packet at him?”

You smirked. “I was thinking hot coffee to the face, but your way works too.”

For the first time in a long time, Seungcheol laughed. A real, genuine laugh.

And that’s when it hit him.

He was already falling.

Falling for the person who never looked at him with fear.

Falling for the one who treated him like something more than a name whispered in hushed tones.

Falling for the only person who made him forget, even for a moment, that he was someone the world feared.

He was utterly, completely doomed.

And from that day on, Choi Seungcheol—the most powerful, ruthless gang leader in the city—was absolutely, irreversibly whipped.

Falling for you was easy. It was everything after that that terrified him.

Seungcheol was used to controlling—to knowing every move before it happened, to staying two steps ahead. But you? You threw every rule out the window. He didn’t know how to navigate this—this warmth, this lightness, this you.

He should’ve kept his distance. Should’ve told himself that a man like him didn’t get to have things like this.

But the moment he knew—really knew—that he was yours?

It was the night you patched him up.

It had been a messy deal. One of his men screwed up, someone pulled a knife, and though Seungcheol got the situation under control, he took a hit in the process. A deep gash along his side, bleeding more than he liked.

He should’ve gone to a safehouse. Should’ve called Wonwoo to handle it.

But somehow, his feet led him straight to you.

When you opened your door to find him standing there, blood staining his shirt, your eyes widened—but not in fear. Never in fear.

"Sit," you ordered, pulling him inside without hesitation.

He let you. Let you press him onto your couch, let you pull out a first-aid kit, let you mutter curses under your breath as you lifted his shirt to assess the damage.

“This is bad,” you murmured, hands surprisingly steady as you cleaned the wound. “You should be in a hospital.”

“No hospitals.”

You sighed, but didn’t argue. You never did—not about this. Instead, you worked quietly, patching him up with gentle but firm hands.

And then, as you finished securing the bandage, you looked up.

“Seungcheol,” you said softly. “You can’t keep doing this.”

His breath caught.

Not because of the pain. Not because of the wound.

But because of the way you said his name—like it mattered. Like he mattered.

He could handle knives, bullets, enemies plotting against him in the dark. But this? The way you looked at him, eyes filled with something dangerously close to care?

That was lethal.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice rough.

You frowned. “No, you’re not.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but then you did something he didn’t expect.

You reached out—slowly, carefully—and rested a hand against his cheek.

Seungcheol froze.

“You can’t just keep throwing yourself into danger like this,” you murmured. “You think I don’t notice when you show up like this? Or when you disappear for days and come back looking like hell?”

His throat felt tight. “This is the life I chose.”

Your jaw clenched. “And if something happens to you? If one day, you don’t walk through that door?”

He had no answer.

Because for the first time, he realized—he never thought about what his life meant to someone else.

But here you were. Worried. Angry. Scared for him.

Him. Choi Seungcheol. The man no one dared to care for because they knew it was dangerous.

Yet you did. You did.

And just like that, he was done for.

Utterly, completely yours.

Seungcheol wasn’t good with words.

He could command a room, negotiate million-dollar deals, and terrify a man into silence with just a look—but when it came to you? When it came to everything you made him feel?

Words felt useless.

So he showed you in the only ways he knew how.

By making sure you never walked home alone. By slipping extra cash into your pockets when he knew you were struggling. By waiting outside your café at night just to make sure you were safe.

And then, one night, he just… said it.

He hadn’t planned to. Hadn’t even thought about saying it yet. But you were standing in the kitchen, rambling about something that happened at work, and he was just watching you—watching the way your eyes lit up, the way your hands moved when you spoke, the way you existed in his space like you belonged there.

And before he could stop himself—before he could think about what it meant—he said it.

“I love you.”

You froze.

For a second, his heart stopped.

And then, slowly, you turned to look at him. “What did you just say?”

Shit.

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly unsure if he should take it back, laugh it off—

But then you smiled.

Soft. Disbelieving. Radiant.

And just like that, the fear disappeared.

“You’re an idiot,” you whispered, stepping closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

You reached for him, fingers curling into his shirt. “Say it again.”

He smirked, heart pounding. “I love you.”

And when you pulled him down into a kiss, he knew—he would never stop saying it.

From that moment on, Seungcheol stopped caring who knew.

His gang? They figured it out the second they saw the way he looked at you.

His enemies? They learned the hard way that you were the one line they could never cross.

And you?

You never once made him feel like he had to choose between the world he built and the world you gave him.

Because somehow, somehow, you became both.

And Seungcheol—ruthless, untouchable Seungcheol—was yours in every way that mattered.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely! could i please request poly jily and lipstick and a split lip! love you and your writing ❤️❤️

Thanks angel!

cw: brief mention of blood

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 837 words

You’re all three bundled in your coats as you walk home, the nights still cold despite the warming days and the fair bit of alcohol in each of you. James is teasing Lily for her decision to wear a skirt in between offerings of his coat. 

“Mine works just as well as yours,” she insists, shivering. 

“No, but mine’s longer is the point. You’ve got those poor lovely legs completely exposed to the elements.” 

Lily gives him a wry (loving) look. Her legs are somewhat shorter than James’, but somehow she manages to walk so doggedly you’re both hurrying to keep up. “You really want me to stop so we can switch coats. That’s what you think I should do.” 

“I’d never tell you what to do,” James says automatically. You grin; your boyfriend is a smart man. “I’m only saying that while you look beautiful, you also look cold, and perhaps my longer coat could help with that.” 

“We’re almost home,” you point out. Your partners have managed to bicker entertainingly most of the way back from Marlene’s party. You’re within a couple blocks of your flat now. 

It’s a relief. The evening has been fun, but you don’t know a one of James’ friends that doesn’t make big to-do out of their birthday; between the getting dressed up, the dinner, and then the party itself at Marlene’s place, you’re very eager to get back to your own home, where your face wash and lip balm and your very warm comforter live. 

James takes you in. Your quick strides, head lowered against the wind, both arms crossed over your (unfortunately rather thin) coat. You and Lily have been luckless companions in your underestimation of the weather. 

“You look cold,” observes James. 

“I bet you say that to all your girlfriends.” 

He laughs. “Here, angel, take my coat.” 

“I don’t want your coat.” You swerve out of his reach, though he’s already taking it off. “Really, James, we’re nearly there.” 

“Yours is awful!”

“Why do you want to be rid of your coat so badly?” Lily asks, fishing out the key to your flat as you near the steps. 

“I’m trying to be chivalrous! Why will nobody have my coat?” 

“Chauvinist,” you quip. 

“All I’m offering is a decent coat, and of course I get cruelty in return.” 

“You think your coat must be so much better than either of ours, hm?” 

“It is! Yours is too short and yours is too thin.” Lily smiles as she unlocks the door, clearly enjoying watching you rile James. He throws up his hands. “I won’t be gaslit.” 

“You really think it’s your coat, or is it just that your oh-so-superior man body is keeping you warm?” 

James pushes you through the door to your flat as soon as it’s open, playfully rough. It’s unusual enough to startle a giggle out of you as you back away from him. “I’ll show you what my man body is good for,” he promises. 

You nearly trip over your own feet, laughing while James backs you down the hall until your thighs hit the edge of your bed. You hear Lily bolt the door. Her footsteps follow at an easier pace, but James is already ravaging you. 

“It’s not—chivalrous—” you manage between kisses, “if you’re only offering to—to—” 

“No, go on, finish.” James links his fingers through yours, kissing repeatedly at your top lip as you fight to contain your smile. “I wanna hear your thoughts on how sexist I am for—oh. Ouch.” 

For a moment you think you’ve hurt him somehow. You let your head fall back against the mattress, looking him over worriedly. It doesn’t occur to you that the ouch was in sympathy. 

“Sorry, lovie.” James sets his thumb to your lower lip. You recall why you’d been so desperate for chapstick a few minutes ago.  

“What did you do?” asks Lily, half weary and half fond. She’s well accustomed to the outcomes of you and James’ play fights. When she leans around him to see, her pretty features pull into a frown. “Oh,” she coos. 

It’s altogether too much concern for a split lip. “It’s fine.” You touch the origin of the sting, finding only a bit of blood on your fingertip. “Don’t be sorry.”

“This is what happens when I make you smile too hard,” James says mournfully. 

It makes you smile again. Both your partners tut at you for it. 

“Let’s keep the damage to a minimum,” Lily chides him, though she’s smiling too. She cups your cheek as you sit up, inspecting your lip. “It’s sort of hard to tell with your lipstick,” she says. “You look so lovely, sweetheart, but maybe it’s time to switch it out for some lip balm?” 

“Yeah,” you agree. Lily follows you into the bathroom. 

“Oh, is it time for the face washes?” James asks eagerly, getting up too.

“You’re not allowed to help anymore,” Lily reminds him. “You waste too much product.” 

“I know, just let me watch, yeah?” 

[alinathinkstoomuch]

COMFORT IN YOU

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader (ex!reader, i suppose) summary: even though the two of you are no longer together, hotch can't help the fact that he still has the need to comfort you. warnings | an: lil hurt & comfort, two exes making soup together but they're still blatantly in love with one another, also pretty sure this is not the correct way to make soup i was really just saying shi to make them busy, yearning i suppose?? word count: 2k

✧ masterlist

You were having what you could only describe as a series of bad days. There were no particular causes or events for them, just the uncomfortable feeling of a heaviness in your chest. There wasn’t anything glaringly wrong, but there wasn’t much that felt right, either.

For the past week, you’d been snoozing your alarm until the last possible second. Mornings turned into rushed scrambles - brushing your teeth and hair the only boxes you’d managed to check before bolting out the door. You hadn’t bothered with makeup or a decent outfit in days, simply because nothing seemed worth the effort.

You knew the feeling would pass eventually, it wasn’t a constant thing. Every now and then, you just felt…off. Like you were watching yourself from the outside, going through the motions but not really present.

You were sure there was a word for it. Something detached and clinical - Spencer had once mentioned it on a flight home from a case. The memory hovered at the edges of your mind, but you couldn’t find the energy to chase it down just to label what you already knew.

You just didn’t feel like yourself.

“You’re not seriously staying here past five on a Friday night, are you?” Penelope asked, using your desk as a dumping ground to sort through her large purse.

You glanced up with a tried smile. “No, Pen. Just finishing up. I’ll be out of here soon.”

“Okay, sugar,” she said in what was supposed to be her warning voice – though, like everything Penelope said, it came wrapped in warmth and sweetness. “Promise me you’ll go home, take a nice hot bath, light some candles –” she fluttered her fingers animatedly, “–and show yourself some love.”

You arched a brow. “Is this your subtle way of telling me I look like shit?”

She gasped, swatting you lightly with her pink glasses case. “I would never use such language. But also…yes. A little bit.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, giving her a full performance of your pretend annoyance.

Penelope just grinned, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Text me when you get home. And take care of that beautiful face, okay?” She reached out, giving your chin a playful squeeze before blowing you an air-kiss. “Self-care, my love. Don’t make me come over there and enforce it.”

“Yes, boss,” you said, standing from your seat. “Have a good night, Penny.”

Once she was gone, you stacked the last forms for your report into a folder, quietly relieved that Hotch wasn't in his office to hand it in to. It had taken you far longer to complete than usual - in fact, you were pretty sure yours was the only report he was waiting on to close out the case.

He wouldn't have given you a hard time about it – he never had – but still, you didn't want him thinking you couldn't handle your workload. Not when you both agreed the job was too important to let anything, especially your relationship, interfere with it.

You made your way into his office, the lights still on despite the fact that he'd stepped out for a meeting hours ago. It should've felt strange being in his space. Working with him. Seeing him every day, even after the two of you had mutually agreed to call it quits. But it didn't feel strange at all.

If anything, your relationship with him had stayed almost exactly the same. The only real difference was that you couldn't crawl into his arms at the end of a long day - and that was okay, or at least you had spent a lot of time trying to convince yourself that it was. You were both adults. Mature. Maybe a little too career-hungry.

You'd given it your best shot for almost a year, and it just didn't work. That was it. There wasn't anything more either of you could've done – or, if you were honest, wanted to do. Maybe if you'd both been accountants, or if one of you had decided to transfer out of the BAU, it might've worked. But neither of you wanted that.

You both loved the job exactly as it was.

So you let go.

And maybe that was love too, in its own way.

You left the report neatly on his desk, then made your way back to your own. After packing up your things, you headed out, the building quiet behind you.

On the way home, you stopped by the grocery store near your place, telling yourself you'd pick up something for a proper dinner. But somewhere between the fluorescent lights and the half-empty shelves, you settled on a frozen meal instead. Very high-nutrient of you, truly.

By the time you got home, you didn't even bother unpacking your haul. You just dropped the bags on the countertop and left them there, your keys landing beside them with a dull clink. You headed straight for the bathroom, aiming for a quick shower and could practically hear Penelope rolling her eyes at your refusal to take a proper bath.

It couldn’t have been later than eight when a knock echoed through your home. Your slippers dragged softly across the wooden floor as you made your way to the door, unsure of who you were about to find on the other side. Perhaps it was Penelope, coming over to check whether the bath salts she had given you for your birthday had finally been put to use.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Penelope standing there.

It was Hotch. Still in his work clothes, with a brown bag tucked under his arm.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” you greeted, opening the door wider to let him in.

He stepped inside without a word, moving through the space like he’d never left it. Like it still belonged to him, at least in some small way. And maybe it did. For a while, this had been his second home.

You watched him cross to the kitchen, settling the bag down beside your still-unpacked groceries.

“No Thai?”

“Not tonight,” he replied, slipping off his jacket. “I thought I’d make soup.” His sleeves were rolled up before you could even respond and he was at your sink, using your soap to wash his hands to make you dinner.  

You really couldn’t make this up.

You took a seat on the bench, folding your legs beneath you as you watched him unpack the contents of the bag. “Did you read my report?”

He didn’t look up as he pulled out a bundle of parsley, a container of chicken stock and various vegetables. “I did.”

“Am I going to have to redo it?”

He glanced at you then, the faintest trace of amusement crossing his face. “No,” he said. “It was good. A little rushed, maybe – but not wrong.”

You gave dry laugh. “You can tell me to redo it, I promise I won’t get mad.”

“I know you won’t, but I also know when you’re not at your best. And I’m not going to punish you for having an off week.”

You nodded slowly, watching as he moved to grab a cutting board.

After a moment, you spoke again – softer this time. “You won’t be able to do this forever, you know.”

His eyes met yours again, but he stayed silent.

“I’m serious,” you went on, offering a small smile. “What happens when you start dating again? You’re just going to keep showing up at your ex-girlfriend’s house with soup ingredients?”

“I don’t think dating is in the cards right now.”

You tilted your head, teasing gently. “Why not? Did I leave you that emotionally wrecked?”

He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “No, you didn’t. It’s just…not where my focus is.”

You clicked your tongue, reaching for an orange from the fruit bowl. “Well, that’s a shame. Because dating is in my cards,” you revealed, digging your thumb into the skin and starting to peel.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thinking of going for a broker this time,” you mused, not looking at him as you pulled off a strip of peel. “You know, mix it up. Maybe someone who doesn’t alphabetize their spices.”

“And you’d be happy with a broker?”

You shrugged, glancing up at him as you popped a piece of mandarin into your mouth. “Who knows.” You chewed slowly, then added with a smirk, “I can easily picture you with a nurse. Or maybe a doctor. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could do double dates, your nurse-doctor, my broker. Very grown-up of us.”

“I don’t think I’m built for double dating.”

“No,” you agreed. “You’d probably scare my broker away.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

You paused, taking the time to eat your second piece of mandarin. “Depends.”

“On?”

“How much I like the broker."

He didn’t respond right away, turning back toward the stove. “Where’s your big pot?”

“Exactly where you left it,” you replied, watching as he moved toward the lower cabinet, like he still remembered this kitchen better than his own.

And the truth was, this – whatever this was – probably wasn’t the healthiest of situations, and it wasn’t making moving on any easier for either of you.

But it was what you knew. What you remembered.

And if this was the version of him you were allowed to keep, you’d take it. You weren’t ready to go back to a life without him, not yet. Not when he still offered pieces of himself and not when you still kept saying yes.

“Do you need any help?” you asked, rising to your feet, your knees clicking in protest.  

“Always need your help,” he responded – just a little too casually. You knew he hadn’t meant for it to land as heavily as it did.

You gathered the orange peel and turned to toss it in the bin, just as Hotch stepped back from the stove. And suddenly, he was right there – in front of you. His eyes found yours and held them, like he was reading something you hadn’t yet decided to say. He’d always been good at that, seeing things before you did. Predicting thoughts you hadn’t even fully formed.

“Have you been sleeping?”

You nodded, brushing past him to rinse your hands. “Like a baby.”

He turned just slightly, enough to catch your expression. “That’s a no, then.”

“It’s hard to get comfortable on a bed that’s broken,” you said, equal parts explanation and blame. And while you wished it was a great sex story you were referring to…it wasn’t. You’d asked him to hang a frame above your bed. The next thing you heard from the living room was a loud thud – one of the bed legs snapping clean off.

“Hey, I fixed what I broke,” he offered.

Ha.

“Not very well,” you muttered, drying your hands. “Where do you want me?”

Hotch paused mid-motion as he added vegetables to the pot, eyes flicking up to meet yours.  

“In terms of helping,” you added, arching a brow like it was his mind that had wandered.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Right.” He nodded toward the cutting board. “You can shred the chicken.”

You did as you were told, moving to stand next to him. Your elbow brushed his now and then, neither of you bothering to move away.

“You still do this thing,” you said after a moment, not looking up. “Organising everything before you start. Like you’re in a restaurant kitchen.”

“It saves time,” he reasoned, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“It’s kind of endearing.”

“You used to call it controlling.”

You shrugged again. “I don’t recall.”

“Just like you don’t recall watering the basil?” His eyes moved to a pot on the windowsill, it’s leaves wilted, dropping sadly.

“You’re welcome to take it home with you.”

He raised a brow. “And let it die under my care instead?”

“Seems fair. Full-circle moment.”

Your elbow brushed his again and the two of you fell silent.

“...You okay?”

You didn’t look at him. “Yeah.”

“You sure?” he pressed, gentler now.  

You nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. I mean… not great, but – functioning.”

“Is there anything that I can do?”

You glanced up, offering a tired but genuine smile. “Just make sure the soup’s good.”

“It will be,” he assured you. “I know how you like it.”

And he did – because he still remembered all of it. Everything you liked, everything you didn’t. What you tolerated with a tight-lipped smile and what you outright hated. He hadn’t forgotten a thing.

And as you stood there, watching him move through your kitchen like he still belonged in your home, in your heart, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more times the two of you would let yourselves end up in moments like this.

tags - @fandomscombine @dohmeti @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue

(please lmk if you want to be removed from the general tag list & just be kept on the fake finance tag list)

dividers by cafekitsune

[waywardxrhea]

Seeing Other People - Matt Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader (descriptor of hair being long enough to run hands through and comb)

Your insecurities from the past come back to haunt you as you grapple with the paranoia that creeps into your mind when Matt suddenly starts ducking out on dates.

word count: 7,247

content: hurt/comfort, angst, anxiety, insecurity, panic attacks, language, mention of guns.

dividers by: @firefly-graphics

now playing: Seeing Other People by Francis Karel and Maddie Zahm

"i've been seeing other people, all my ex's undertones / assuming i'll catch you in a lie, afraid to read what's on your phone / 'cause when i was seeing other people, i'm not the only one that they took home / now i don't trust so easily, even when i know you're not cheating / i'm the one who's seeing other people in you"

You had finished with your hair and makeup for your date with Matt half an hour ago and were patiently waiting for his call. He would always call to tell you he was on his way to whisk you away from your apartment for the evening, which was something you appreciated rather than being caught half ready. It had been a long week. You were looking forward to getting to relax into conversation with Matt and eventually into his strong arms by the end of the night. Matt had usually ended your dates either in his bedroom or on the couch cuddling, and those times were ones you cherished with your whole being. You would never take them for granted. The moments of intimacy were ones you looked forward to more than anything and were something you were desperately craving after the hellish week you’d had at work. 

Getting lost in your thoughts of cuddling Matt, you nearly didn’t hear your phone ringing quietly beside you on the couch. When it finally registered in your ears, you fumbled to pick it up before it hung itself up, answering with a quick, “Matt! Hey!”

“Hey sweetheart,” came Matt’s voice which you noted sounded a bit more gruff than usual. You heard a rustling in the background of the call as he continued with, “I, uh… I hate to tell you this but I have to cancel tonight’s date. I’m really sorry. Something came up with work that really needs my attention. Can we rain check?”

“Oh,” you said, feeling your body deflate into the couch cushion. Shaking away your suddenly spiking anxiety, you forced a chipperness into your voice as you told him, “That’s fine! I hope everything is okay. If I can help in any way just let me know, yeah?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told you, a sense of relief evident in his tone. 

There was a heavy thud on the other side of the line and your eyebrows furrowed together as you asked, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just dropped my briefcase, that’s all,” Matt told you. “Client seemed really anxious to speak with us as soon as possible, so I’m more clumsy than usual getting ready to head out.”

“Oh, I see. I’ll let you go then,” you said, in a quieter tone than you intended. “I love you. Talk later?”

“Talk later. I love you too,” he replied.

Matt hung up shortly after and tossed his phone onto his leather couch as he dashed up the stairs. He had suited up in his Daredevil suit in record time while he was on the phone with you. While he hated to cancel another date on you, there was a growing drug gang that he needed to stop before they took over the city. From the rumors he had heard, they were serious business and weren’t afraid to kill for territory. Having killers on his streets was the last thing he wanted. If the streets weren’t safe, then you weren't safe and your safety was not something he was willing to risk. 

The crisp air of the city hit Matt as he bolted out of the rooftop access door. He tried to shove down his feelings of guilt surrounding canceling the date as he focused on the sounds of the city around him, trying to find one voice in particular. The voice he had overheard on his way to pick up lunch for himself, Foggy, and Karen the day before. He found it after a few moments, but before he could take off toward where the meeting was taking place, he hesitated. The hesitation was caused by hearing the soft sound of your crying in your apartment a couple blocks down. The sound tugged on Matt’s heartstrings and by instinct his body began gravitating toward your place to provide you comfort, but the sound of a cocking gun tore his ears away from your cries. Within an instant, Matt was on the move, vaulting across rooftops and traversing metal fire escapes to get to the meeting spot. He was racing to get there before the shot rang and a life was taken. 

Back in your apartment, the mental turmoil you were experiencing was like a hurricane blowing through your mind with no end in sight. Your hands shook and your heart pounded in your ears as your breathing became shallow and tears blurred your vision. Old memories bombarded your mind, and you were sent back to a headspace that you never wanted to experience again. But, despite your best efforts, you have been… Over the last month or so your mind had slipped into old habits and you had begun to doubt your place in Matt’s life. Canceled plans led to harsh memories that you have tried to leave in your past. But, as you had started to feel more distance growing between yourself and Matt, you couldn’t help but have flashes of memories you thought you had shoved into the ‘forgotten’ box in your mind. 

Without your permission, your emotions began to take over and you couldn’t escape the flurry of old memories intruding into your previously peaceful headspace. It was a dizzying feeling as you were bombarded with the memories of harshly spoken words and insults thrown in your direction. No matter how hard you tried to push the memories back they kept coming and soon you felt like you were thrown into the midst of an emotional storm that was pelting you from all sides. Tears began to freefall and test the integrity of your makeup, and you did your best to simply stay afloat as you attempted to find the eye of the storm within your mind. It took longer than you would have liked to admit, but after a few minutes of being bumped around by your painful past, you finally were able to center yourself and take the deep, calming breaths that would slow your heart rate. 

As your body began to escape the unnecessary fight or flight mode the phone call with Matt had sent you into, you tried to rationalize his words now that your anxiety had had its turn at ravaging your body. You told yourself that the gruffness in his voice was likely from annoyance with the last minute client call. That the rustling in the background was simply him changing out of his jeans and henley and into a suit to meet with the client. That he truly had dropped his briefcase in his rush to make it to the meeting. There was no reason for you to think that he was with someone else when he called you. It was just fear and anxiety trying to make you self-sabotage. Again.

Taking one more deep breath, you stood up on shaking legs and made your way to the bathroom to remove your makeup. When you looked up at yourself you cringed when you saw how bloodshot your eyes had become from your crying. There were trails nearly barren of makeup that the tears left behind, but much to your surprise your eye makeup had held true to its promise of being waterproof. Your hair on the other hand was a different story. You had a bad habit of running your hands through it when you were stressed, so naturally after a breakdown like that it looked like a rat’s nest… Not wanting to look at yourself in that state any longer, you rid yourself of the makeup and combed through your hair so it wouldn’t be a tangled mess anymore.

As you did this though, you realized that the clothes you had put on for your date were suddenly obnoxious and irritating, causing your heart rate to spike with more anxiety with every move you made. So you quickly took them off and threw on a comfortable and ridiculously soft t-shirt and pajama pants in their wake. Your irritated senses were soothed once you were rid of all the nuisances and you made your way into the kitchen to make yourself a quick and comforting dish for dinner. 

With your food balanced carefully on the armrest of the couch while you settled in, you decided to binge British baking shows in order to keep your mind off of things. The soothing accents and descriptions of baked goods would be a welcome distraction. You avoided thinking about the steady ache in your heart caused by the growing number of canceled dates, the descriptions of recipes and the monotonous routines falling like a warm blanket over your mind. They would also help in your attempt to fend off the old memories threatening to take hold of your thoughts once more. While it wasn’t the perfect solution to your problems, it was the best one you had. And, for now, it would have to do. 

A week later you waited with bated breath, your heart pounding against your ribs, as the minutes ticked by before Matt would pick you up for your rain-check date. There was less effort put into your hair and makeup for the outing, your anxiety telling you the effort would be for naught, but you still deemed yourself presentable enough to feign confidence being next to someone as attractive as Matt. A sense of relief washed over you when you heard a gentle knock on your door. You let out a deep sigh, a smile painting your lips, as you made your way to the door. 

When you opened the door, your heart skipped a beat like it always did when you saw Matt’s charming smile. He stood patiently in the hallway, waiting to take you on your date. “Hey, sweetheart,” Matt said before pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Hey yourself,” you told him when he pulled away a few moments later. “How was work?”

“It was good. Got through the toughest part of the paperwork for the latest client,” he told you as you took your keys out of your purse to lock the door behind you. You wrapped your hand around his bicep and began leading him down the hall, the steady tapping of his cane a soothing and familiar rhythm as you walked. “We’re hoping that we could get the opposition to go in with a deal so it doesn’t have to go to court, but it’s looking like this is more complicated than we anticipated. The client is really worried about having to make an appearance, so it’s taking a lot of convincing from Karen to not just drop the case altogether.”

“Oh, that sounds tough, I’m sorry,” you told him as you hit the button to summon the elevator. Matt shrugged in response. It was simply something that came with the job and they were dealing.

“How was work for you?” Matt asked as the two of you stepped into the elevator. 

“It was fine. Nothing too crazy,” you replied. “I wish people in this city were a bit kinder, but…”

“Are you okay?” Matt asked quietly, the elevator coming to a stop at the bottom floor. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing. Really. I just need to get tougher skin, that’s all,” you told him quickly, trying to brush away his concern. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Some customers just felt entitled to scream at you and come up with…colorful insults to hurl your way in response to you just doing your job. Matt had bigger fish to fry than that. He was under a lot of stress with this case, it sounded like, and you didn’t want your problems to needlessly occupy his mind. 

“Where did you wanna go for dinner?” you asked as the two of you pushed through the front door. The usual sounds of the city bounced around you. Honking cars, scattered conversations, the usual hustle and bustle of good ‘ol New York. It was noisy, but it was home.

“I chose last time, did you have anything in mind?” Matt asked after a few moments of silence. He wondered why you were brushing off his attempts at conversation. He could tell that the question had caused a pang of anxiety to rise in you and he could smell the salt of tears building behind your eyes, but still you pushed the subject away. Why? You were usually fairly vocal about how work was, but lately you had started to close yourself off. It made Matt start to wonder what had set you off… Maybe your supervisor left or something like that. He would try and get to the bottom of that later.

His mind was dragged back into the conversation as you timidly said, “I don’t really have a preference, it’s whatever you wanna do.” You cleared your throat and asked, “What about that scratch made pizza place you mentioned wanting to try? I looked into it and they make their dough and sauce in house every day. They seem to get as many locally sourced meats as possible, too. I think they may actually get some of it from Foggy’s family.”

“That sounds great, lead the way,” Matt replied with a brief laugh. He felt the air shift around you as you nodded and pulled out your phone with your free hand, followed shortly by the quiet electronic voice of the GPS guiding you to your destination. 

Matt couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his lips as he followed you to the restaurant. The two of you had been together for a while now, his enhanced senses still not something you were aware of, yet you took everything that they affected into consideration. When Matt had mentioned off handedly that the cotton in your sheets felt scratchy on his skin, you had switched to silk and satin ones instead. When you noticed that your lotions and perfumes were too strong for him and gave him headaches, you took to using more toned down and natural scents. You started making meals with organic and fresh ingredients and going to restaurants that did the same because he mentioned one time that processed foods didn’t agree with him. During your time together you had done everything you could to make sure Matt was comfortable even without really knowing why. A warm smile tugged on his lips as he reminisced on how grateful he truly was to you.

Matt had attempted to do the same for you in any way that he could without revealing too much about his abilities. He would swing by a small florist stand and get you flowers when he knew you were having a bad day. He would surprise you with the lunch you had been telling your coworkers you had been craving. He would offer you massages when he could practically feel the tension in your muscles after work. The one thing he couldn’t do was ask why you had been crying so much lately in the safety of your own apartment, tucked away from him and everyone else in the world. He wanted to offer you solace and a place to be vulnerable, but you had never been open in that aspect of your emotions. Well, that and the fact that most of the time when he heard your cries he was in his Daredevil suit and couldn’t just waltz right into your apartment to offer you the comfort you needed. The love you deserved. 

When the pair of you neared the pizza place, Matt deeply inhaled the scent of all the fresh ingredients and he sent a smile your way as he told you, “Great choice, sweetheart.”

“Oh, thanks!” you stuttered out, a light blush dusting your cheeks in response to his praise. 

The pizza was as amazing as you had expected. The ingredients were all fresh and proved to be the winning combination they were advertised to be. Between bites of pizza, the two of you opted to play a game where you people watched and described passersby to Matt and asked what he thought their story was. As usual, you were floored when Matt would tell you what he thought with a small smirk teasing his lips. When they would walk by, he’d be right on the money. You couldn’t help the school-girl-like laugh that escaped your lips at his latest feat as you asked, “How do you do that?”

“Thanks, in part, to you,” Matt told you with a fond smile on his lips. While that was in fact a little white lie, Matt never missed an opportunity to compliment you and your people skills. “You’re very good at describing people and their mannerisms. It helps me decide if they’re a tourist, a local, a business person, or whatever else.”

“Okay, let’s go again, there’s this man-” you started to say but cut yourself off when you saw Matt’s eyebrows furrow behind his red lenses and he began fishing around in his coat pockets for something. “Everything all right?” you asked timidly, your hands dropping down into your lap to mess with the hem of your shirt. 

“Just getting a call,” he told you off handedly as he finally found the flip phone in a pocket and answered it with a quick, “Yeah?” Matt’s eyes closed and you saw the muscles in his jaw working as he ground his teeth together in response to whatever was being said to him on the other line. “Yeah. Give me twenty minutes-” A frustrated sigh heaved from his chest and Matt ran a hand over the stubble growing on his chin before he relented, saying, “Fine. Ten minutes, then I’ll be there,” before hanging up. 

You were thankful that he wasn’t able to see the disappointed look on your face. When he hung up the phone mere moments later, you probably looked like a wounded puppy. You forced down the steadily growing feeling of heartbreak as you attempted to casually ask, “You gotta get going?”

Matt sported a painful expression on his face, his unseeing gaze concentrated somewhere on your upper chest while he closed his eyes yet again as he nodded. He got up from his seat and fished his wallet out from his pocket, feeling around for the properly folded bills to pay for the meal and dessert if you wanted. Placing the bills on the table and a kiss on your temple, Matt apologized before unfolding his cane and practically sprinting out of the pizzeria. 

The call was from one of Mahoney’s men who was deep undercover in the drug gang he had been trying to take down, and if the intel was right, Matt would be able to take down the growing syndicate that night if he hurried. They were growing more and more brazen as time went on, and even with the threat of Daredevil, the man in charge was committed to getting what he wanted. If that meant killing, then so be it. So, he needed to be stopped. Matt’s senses became laser focused on monitoring where he knew their hideout was. He turned into an unoccupied alleyway before tossing his cane away and vaulting himself onto fire escapes. He needed to get to his suit before he could take down the head of the operation.

Once he was out of sight, a deep sigh left your chest along with a quiet sob that you couldn’t hold back. Not wanting more tears to break free, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on literally anything else besides the growing pain in your chest. You tried to breathe as normally as you could, but it was hard as you felt your throat getting tighter with emotion by the second. Your head snapped to attention as a woman to your left asked, “Can I interest you in some dessert, angiolo?” 

“Oh, I-” you started to say as you looked into the small Italian woman’s warm eyes, your voice trembling against your will in the process. 

“I’ll get you dessert,” she said with finality, giving you a pat on the back and heading off toward the kitchen. You were left slightly bewildered in her wake, the shock of the strange encounter pulling you out of your heartbreak for a few moments. 

The truth of the matter was that she had watched as Matt left in a haste and saw your reaction - how your shoulders hunched inward and you looked smaller as your leg began to anxiously bounce. She returned a few minutes later with a small to-go box filled with cannolis and you thanked her graciously as you handed her the money Matt had given you to pay for the meal. She gave you a warm smile, taking the money graciously, then you headed out of the restaurant.

As you walked back to your apartment, the weight of everything began to rest heavily on your shoulders again. You wanted nothing more than to curl up on your couch with a cup of soothing tea and ignore the world for a while. You buried your emotions as best you could as you headed to the nearest bodega that sold your favorite tea. While searching the aisles, your body went into auto-pilot mode as you made your selection. Your mind pestered you with something that had been bothering you since Matt got that phone call at the restaurant. The phone he answered wasn’t his usual cell phone. His normal phone was a touchscreen one that called out the name of whoever was calling him. This one was a flip phone that didn’t seem to have any of his accommodations. You had seen him put his other phone in his pocket before you left the apartment, so you knew he had that one on him, so why-

“Hey!” came Karen’s chipper voice after she called out your name in greeting. 

You tried to subtly wipe away the tears that had begun leaking out of your eyes before forcing a smile onto your face as you turned toward the blonde and said, “Hey! What are you doing here?”

A look you couldn’t quite gauge flitted across Karen’s features before she huffed out a quiet laugh and said, “Oh, you know me, just working late at the office. We ran out of coffee this morning, and I am in desperate need, so I just came here to grab some.” When she said this, you finally noticed the tub of ground coffee she had in her arms as she added, “I’ll have to grab some from the coffee shop for Matt in the morning, but for now this’ll do for me.”

“O-of course,” you said with a small nod. Matt couldn’t stand the taste of pre-ground coffee from the bodega, preferring the freshly ground stuff from the local coffee shops. It was something you had noted early on in your relationship and made sure to get for him weekly to bring to the office. He was always so busy between cases, so it was the least you could do to supply him with the much needed caffeine. But as you stared at the container in Karen’s hands, you felt a pang of guilt hit you as you remembered that you forgot to grab him any this week. 

Karen’s soft voice once again broke you out of your head as she asked, “Hey, I uh… I could use the company, do you want to head over to the office with me for a bit? We haven’t hung out in a while.” She motioned toward the box in your hand as she finished with, “We have plenty of hot water to make your tea with, and I think there’s still some honey from when we closed Mrs. Cabrera’s case.”

“Oh, sure,” you found yourself saying before you could fully process it. The people pleaser in you didn’t want to say no, so you paid for your goods and followed her to the offices of Nelson, Murdock, and Page while you tried not to drown in the sea of anxiety that was engulfing you. 

On the way there, you nodded at the right places and gave a few affirmatives as Karen talked to you about their latest cases, but you couldn’t help your mind from wandering back to worrying. When the two of you arrived in the office, you let your body take control to begin steeping the tea while Karen began preparing the pot for her coffee. Who had Matt been on the phone with? They were certainly pressuring him to be on time to whatever meeting they were having. Whoever it was obviously was important to him, or maybe you were vastly overestimating your value in his life. Maybe-

“Everything okay?” 

That was the first thing you heard Karen ask when your mind finally remembered that you weren’t alone. Pushing down the feeling of embarrassment at being caught lost in your own thoughts, you quickly nodded and forced a smile onto your lips as you said, “Yeah! Of course!” You placed the little box from the restaurant down on the counter and opened it as you asked, “How do you feel about cannolis? There are a lot more in here than I thought and I’ll never be able to eat all of them!”

“Oh, sure…” Karen said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing together as she pondered why you’d changed the subject so quickly. 

After savoring the taste of the dessert, you offered Karen another fake smile before asking, “So, these last few cases have been keeping the three of you pretty busy huh? Matt’s been exhausted lately. He told me he’s been getting home pretty late every night after meeting with clients.”

While Karen responded with something about a new client not wanting to go to court and that’s why she was there so late, your mind began wandering again. Was it a client who had called Matt at dinner? He left in such a hurry… You didn’t think that he would answer a client in the way he did though. And there was still the thing about the phone… Did Karen know about who he might be-

Your name being called out again cut through your racing thoughts and you jumped at the sudden intrusion, causing hot tea to spill onto the hand holding the cup. “Shit!” you whispered urgently as you began flicking your hand around to rid yourself of the burning liquid quickly before more of it scalded your skin. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Karen said, her hand covering her mouth for a moment in shock before she began frantically looking around for something to help you with. 

“No, no, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m sorry. I should really get going. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work. I’m sorry,” you told her quickly while holding back more tears. “Keep the cannolis. They should still be good in the morning.”

“Are you sure? I can see if there’s any aloe or something,” she told you as she dug through her purse. 

“Don’t worry about me,” you told her before quickly turning toward the office door and heading out, offering a courteous goodnight before your departure. You just needed to be alone. You could deal with the burn when you got to your apartment, but right now you didn’t need to be in Karen’s company. You were self aware enough to know that just one more thing would’ve set you off into a total mental breakdown…

The next morning after getting Matt some fresh coffee from a local shop near the firm, Karen made her way into the office. “Morning Karen!” Foggy greeted her as she started putting her things down on her desk. 

“Morning, Fog! Have a good night?” she asked. 

“I did! Marci and I had some pizza then zonked out in front of the TV for a while.. It was great!” he replied, the smile on his face cluing to Karen that what he recounted wasn’t all that had happened, but she kept her smirk to herself as she told him that she was happy he had a good night. 

She dropped the bag of coffee by the coffee maker before heading over to Matt’s office. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention. “Hey. I got you some coffee from the shop down the street. You look like you need it.”

Matt rubbed his temples and nodded, telling her, “Long night. Worked with Mahoney’s guy to take down that drug gang I’ve been after. Didn’t get back to the apartment until around three…” As Matt followed Karen to the coffee station, a familiar floral scent hit his nose which prompted him to ask, “Was she here last night?”

Karen asked your name in a question and got the affirmative, so she told him, “Yeah. She seemed upset when I ran into her at the bodega getting coffee, so I invited her back here to talk. She seemed super distracted, though. When I called her name to get her attention, she spilled her tea and burned her hand. Then she bolted.”

Upon hearing this, Matt sighed and ran a hand over the lower half of his face which prompted Karen to ask, “What did you do?” Right as she did though, a memory hit her and she gasped quietly before saying, “You had a date planned last night… You two were on a date when you had to go take care of that drug gang, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Matt admitted quietly, guilt laced in his voice and seeping into his mind. 

“Oh, Matt…” she whispered sympathetically. She took a sip of her coffee before telling him, “You know…every time I asked her how she was or tried to offer help, she deflected pretty quickly. She was also super distracted and zoned out a lot. I know that look, Matt. There’s something that’s eating her alive and she’s suffering in silence. She’s not accepting help from her friends.” She placed her cup down on the counter and crossed her arms as she said pointedly, “I think you need to talk to her, Matt.”

“Karen, I-” Matt tried but was interrupted.

“Talk to her,” Karen said with a finality in her tone as a quiet knock sounded through the office, indicating that their first client of the day had arrived. 

By the time midday had rolled around, Matt had called you and got your voicemail since you were at work. He opted to go ahead and leave the voicemail, telling you, “Hey sweetheart. Karen told me what happened last night. I realized that there’s something we’ve been needing to talk about. I’ll be over at around seven tonight. See you then.”

By the time you had gotten the opportunity to check your voicemail, you were already back at your apartment after work. A quick glance at your clock told you it was nearly a quarter till seven. When you heard the words there’s something we’ve been needing to talk about from Matt, your heart dropped. Fear and panic began to fill your whole body, gripping your throat in a tight vice. 

This was it. This was surely the end of the most wonderful relationship you’d had in years. All because you were too afraid to talk about your feelings. You had overcorrected because of your insecurities from the past and that ran Matt off. Because you were too afraid to accept help from others and he got tired of it. Because he found someone else who was willing to be open and honest with him about everything. Because he found someone better than you. More secure in themself. Less anxious. Someone without a past that haunted them like yours did…

You barely made it to the couch in your living area before collapsing as you were consumed with your brutal thoughts of insecurity and anticipatory grief about the end of you and Matt. The room felt like it was spinning and closing in on you simultaneously. You were left clutching your knees to your chest as you tried to hold onto some semblance of self. You were failing miserably. Shallow gasps of air were all you could manage through your tightening throat. Your heart pounded in your ears. Tears flowed down your cheeks. All encompassing doom clouded the edges of your mind. This was it.

Matt was so exhausted after a long day at the firm, following his even longer night out as Daredevil, that he felt like his enhanced senses were drowning him. Everything was too overwhelming, too distracting, too much. So, he concentrated inward and focused on his own heartbeat to drown out everything else bombarding his senses. He also focused on the flowers in his hand that he had bought for you. The bouquet of roses reminded him of your shampoo, subtle and floral. It put a small smile on his lips as he made his way to your apartment. 

Getting lost in concentrating on the smell of the roses and the steady beat of his own heart, Matt didn’t even tune into your apartment until he was right outside of it about to raise his hand to knock. And that’s when he sensed it. Your rapid heart rate and breathing. Fear. Panic. And you were on the other side of a locked door. 

Knowing that there was a roof access door nearby and no one else in the hallway, Matt dropped his cane as well as the roses and bolted toward it, desperate to get to you. The chill of the night hit him as he navigated the familiar rooftop and then down to the fire escape outside of your window. Luckily you had left your window unlocked, so Matt threw it open and crawled through before making his way over to your shaking form on the couch. 

You were alone in the apartment and there weren't any unfamiliar smells in the space, so he knew there was no immediate danger that set you off. He wrapped you in his arms and rubbed your back as he mumbled, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m right here.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you choked out as you burrowed into his chest. 

“Sorry for what?” Matt asked before kissing your temple. 

“For not being enough,” you replied, your voice breaking as a fresh batch of tears rolled down your flushed cheeks. Before Matt could even respond to that, you found yourself rambling, telling him, “I thought that if I didn’t bother you with all the shit in my head, then maybe I wouldn’t run you off… I thought that the more of me you saw, the less of me you’d like. But… I still managed to mess everything up… Like I always do…” You huffed out a humorless laugh before saying, “I get it if there’s someone else. I wouldn’t wanna be with me, either…”

Matt felt his heart shatter as the words fell out of you in a grief-filled torrent. Tears began to sting the backs of his eyes. He knew he couldn’t lose himself in his guilt for making you feel this way, though, so he focused back on you. “Hey, hey, just breathe. Breathe with me, sweetheart,” Matt mumbled as he pulled you closer. 

Matt ran his hand up and down your back and told you to breathe in and out with the soothing strokes. You tried, but with the amount of anxiety still filling your body and clutching at your throat, it felt like an impossible task. Matt didn’t give up though, and on top of the slow and soothing patterns he ran up and down your back, he began to mumble sweet nothings into your ear that reassured you that you were safe. That you were with him. That everything would be okay. These reassurances weren’t just for you though. They were for him as he too tried to calm down his own racing mind. 

After a few minutes, Matt finally got your heart rate and breathing back down to a normal enough pace. When he was sure you were calmed down enough to talk, he tentatively asked, “What makes you think there’s someone else? I promise there’s only you, sweetheart. I’ve never had a partner as kind and caring and accommodating as you. I would be a fool to mess that up.”

“It’s just…” you whispered, a quiet sob tumbling off your lips before you took a deep and shaky breath. “The canceled dates. The bolting in the middle of the one last night. The mysterious flip phone you used yesterday. The background noise on the call last week. Telling me you’ve been getting home in the ungodly hours of the night.” You swallowed hard before pushing through by confessing, “My last relationship… It ended because he was cheating. When I first got suspicious though he made me feel like the bad guy for bringing it up. The things he said were extremely harsh and I guess… I guess my mind never got past that. Now I stuff down all of my own emotions to make sure others are happy and not bothered by my feelings. And over the last month, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been doing some of the same things he did, and… Gosh, I should shut up. I'm really sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget I said anything. I’m sorry…”

More tears began falling from your eyes and you attempted to get up from the couch. You desperately needed to put some separation between you and Matt. You felt like you were just digging a hole you couldn’t get out of. But instead of letting you hide away from him again, his strong arms pulled you impossibly closer and kept you right where you were. “Don’t apologize. Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “He sounds like a controlling prick and I’m sorry that such a caring person ever had to deal with that… You don’t deserve to feel like you can’t talk about your feelings. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way.”

“It’s not you, it’s just…trauma,” you told him as your exhausted body relaxed into his embrace. With your senses finally easing after being stretched so thin, you were able to make some sense of the current situation. Looking over at the door to the hallway, you furrowed your eyebrows together as you asked, “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you get into my apartment?” You hadn’t found the time to get a spare key made to give to him, and you knew that you had locked it on your way in, so how…? You felt Matt’s muscles tense and in response your heart sped up as your anxiety started to settle back in. 

In his rush to get to you to provide you with the comfort you needed, Matt didn’t even think about how he would explain how he got into the apartment. After his conversation with Karen that morning, he had thought long and hard about the possibility of telling you the truth about what he did at night, but he didn’t think the conversation would lead here. It seemed like there was no way to avoid it now…

There was a long moment of silence before Matt gave into the inevitable and asked, “Do you want to know the real reason why I stay out so late and have been so exhausted lately? Why I’ve had to cancel dates?” 

Confusion filled your mind when he asked the questions. Why was Matt asking that in response to your wondering how he got into your apartment? Surely your apartment manager had nothing to do with- You stopped your spiraling thoughts before they could get out of control and nodded, telling him, “I do.”

Another long pause filled the air before Matt said in a barely audible whisper, “I’m Daredevil…” Your breath hitched in your throat for a moment before you laughed quietly and threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. Matt froze for a second before returning your hug as he asked, “You’re not… I don’t know… Mad? Shocked? Upset? Wanting to run away?”

“I’m just happy you aren’t cheating on me,” you told him, a genuine laugh falling from your lips before you could stop it. You pulled away and kissed his cheek before you said, “No wonder Daredevil’s seemed to take an interest in me getting home safe when I’m out late.”

“Oh, so you noticed, huh?” Matt asked with a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. 

“Especially after that group of assholes tried to touch me when I was heading home after Laura’s birthday party,” you noted, a small smile pulling the corners of your lips up. 

“Yeah, I may have gone a bit overboard with that one,” he said sheepishly. He cleared his throat and told you, “There was this drug gang that was starting to gain ground over the last few weeks. That’s why I’ve been skipping out on dates here lately. I wanted to keep you and the rest of Hell’s Kitchen safe.”

“Did you deal with them?” you asked. 

“Last night, yeah,” he replied. “That was Mahoney’s UC calling me on my emergency burner that Foggy has aptly called my ‘Devil Signal,’” he said, ending his statement with a chuckle and shake of his head. 

“So, Foggy knows?”

“And Karen,” he said. “You took it a lot better than they did.”

“Well, that’s because it doesn’t change anything between us,” you told him. “Clearly, I’ve been dealing with your Daredevil schedule since we started dating. The only reason it was bothering me lately was because of my own insecurity. It hasn’t caused any problems, so why would it change anything now?”

“God, I love you,” Matt whispered before pulling you into a gentle kiss. 

“I love you too,” you told him as you rested your forehead on his. 

You were quiet for a few moments, letting the peace of the moment soothe your swirling mind, before you pulled away and said cautiously, “I do have a question though… Considering what you do as Daredevil, are you really…?”

“Blind? Yes,” he told you. “My other senses are enhanced, though, so I’m able to navigate the world easily. I’m able to hear what other people can’t. That’s how I get to stuff before the cops do.” He rubbed your back as he admitted quietly, “I could hear you having a panic attack in here, so I… I came in through the window.”

“You could…? How?” you asked, feeling your heart jump into your throat. 

“Your heart rate just sped up when I told you that,” he told you with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m able to hear people’s heart and respiratory rate. I can also smell cortisol levels and adrenaline. All of that was off the charts when I got here so I broke in so I could comfort you,” he said, his smile evident in his voice as he finished the sentence. 

“Oh… This is going to be a learning curve,” you breathed, suddenly feeling very aware of everything your body was doing at the moment. 

“And I’ll be here for you every step of the way,” Matt told you before pulling you in for another tender kiss. “Promise me you’ll tell me about whatever’s on your mind from now on?”

“Promise,” you agreed, and Matt could tell by the steady beat of your heart that you were telling the truth. 

a/n: this was basically a way for me to process some personal shit (excuse the lore lmao) because writing is my way of dealing with things!

special thanks to @sunflowersandsapphires for helping me process my thoughts and make my ideas into a story as well as to @a-leg-without-fear @dorothleah and @shouldbestudying41 for beta reading and providing edits! i love you all!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! Hope you’re doing well :) May I request a Child! Reader x Tenna pls? Basically, Reader is permanently in a wheelchair due to *insert accident* and is really sad since we haven’t been able to make friends. So, our parents get Tenna, hoping to cheer us up. And it does! We manage to fix him up, we talk to him, and we become friends! Skip to Reader accidentally getting trapped in a Darkworld, where we finally meet Tenna face-to-nose, he thanks us for being his friend, and he protects us. Thxs

Aw thank you! And thank you for the first Tenna request! (note this is purely platonic, and Reader is just a few years younger than the Fun Gang)

............

"Wow, I haven't seen one of these in years."

"Are we sure we wanna keep this? It looks pretty busted up..."

"She said it could still work. She's no mechanic, but...she knows [y/n] is."

"Ah, you're right, dear. I think this will cheer them up."

"I hope so."

Despite hearing the faint voices of your parents, you were too occupied with repairing your alarm clock to fully listen. You managed to bolt it to your nightstand so that you didn't accidentally knock it off...again.

It's happened quite a few times. And it always ended up on the floor, ringing and ringing and ringing until you either threw something at it or crawled out of bed to shut it off yourself.

Unfortunately, that's how most of your mornings have started ever since the accident.

You were paralyzed from the waist down, having to use a wheelchair to get around most places. You've taken a lot of time off of school to undergo surgeries and physical therapy, but none of it changed the fact that you couldn't "magically" walk again.

It left you feeling rather lonely, staying indoors all day to tinker with small appliances to your mind occupied, as you loved to assemble, repair, and disassemble things. Your parents considered you an "engineer in-the-making", but you didn't see your skills as anything more than just a hobby. Something to make you temporarily forget the pain.

Eventually, you and your family moved to a new town, populated by more monsters than humans. And while you did enroll into a new school and met new people, you still felt sad--the memories following you no matter where you went.

Today, however, your parents surprised you with a new addition to your room. You weren't expecting anything, so to see them walk in with a CRT television had your eyes widening in awe.

You've read about those old-fashioned TVs, certain that they stopped making them. But apparently not.

The most shocking part was that it was Susie, of all people, who wanted you to have it, insisting that it "needed a good home". You laughed when they told you this, believing they meant a different Susie.

No way could it be from that same mean reptilian girl that everyone at school was so afraid of, even Ms. Alphys.

Surely, it sounded impossible....until you found a note on the back of the large appliance, a small letter addressed to you specifically. Once your parents left you with the TV, you opened it, wondering what it would say:

"Hey, [y/n]. Sorry about all the times I made fun of you in computer class. I know this doesn't make up for it, but I want you to have this TV. Consider it a housewarming gift. His name's Tenna. Don't ask why. I tried fixing him myself, but you're better at that stuff than I am. I don't want him back or any money or anything. Just...take good care of him, alright?

See you at school, Susie"

'Wow, she's..actually nice?' For the first time in a while, you found yourself smiling at the note. Maybe you were wrong about her, or maybe she decided to have a change of heart. Regardless, you'll be sure to thank her at school tomorrow..

You looked closer at the CRT TV, and sure enough you could see her efforts to fix it: with duct tape wrapped around the two broken antennae. There were a few light cracks in the screen, but it wasn't anything too bad. At least she tried her best.

Funny enough, you were thinking about fixing one of the TVs at school that were broken, so you had all the tools needed. Of course this one was way older than any of them, but it shouldn't be as complex.

Once you found everything you needed, you went right to work on repairing the antennae, carefully removing the duct tape, shining the dials, wiping the dust off all sides of the box, and checking the internal wiring to make sure nothing was fried.

All the while, you talked to Tenna, explaining what you were doing to him, like a doctor tending to their patient. You knew he couldn't really talk back to you, but the silence had to be filled somehow.

It took a few long hours, plus a dinner break, but around midnight the TV looked good as new.

The final step was to simply plug it into the wall and see if all your efforts were worth it.

And miraculously, it worked. The screen flickered to life, showing you a channel that was presenting the opening theme for a gameshow program called "Mr. Ant Tenna's TV Time". The host himself looked a lot like the television sitting in your room right now, with the rest of his body being humanoid, dressed in a shimmering red coat with a bright yellow tie and a golden lapel that said "TV".

He had no eyes, but a grinning mouth and a pointed nose as he appeared on the stage, clutching a microphone and introducing the contestants of the show with such vigor.

'Well..I did it.' You chuckled, climbing onto your bed and deciding to sit back and watch the episode for a while.

One episode turned into two, and then two into three...until you suddenly remembered that you had school in the morning and switched it off, falling asleep rather quickly.

.............

Over the next week or so, you've been coming home in a better mood--mainly because you're so eager to use your new television.

TV Time was became your favorite program rather quickly, having binged-watched it so much. At this point, you were aware that every episode was just a rerun. With the same quizzes and "physical challenges" as before, but it provided good background noise for when you're doing homework or tinkering with some other electronic.

You still talked to Tenna like he could hear you, answering along to the game's questions even though you already knew the outcome of each episode.

The monster movie that was constantly on was predictable at best, but sometimes you'd catch glimpses of new side characters--or a new attack the monster unleashed upon the city. That was great, too, but you mainly tuned into his gameshow and kept it on that.

Sometimes, when you just want some quiet, you'll sit at your desk and journal your thoughts--sometimes speaking them outloud to Tenna. It felt absolutely ridiculous, but at the same time it made you feel less lonesome in your room.

You started to see him as....a friend.

A friend who didn't judge you and always kept you company when you needed it most. Your parents thought it was sweet, but they did push you to make some actual friends at school, too. And you did, among them being Susie, who asked you how Tenna was doing lately.

She seemed nervous for some reason, but sighed in relief after you assured her he's been doing good. You thought she'd make fun of you for befriending an inanimate object, although she revealed something rather..surprising to you while offering to walk you home one evening.

She made you swear to secrecy, before telling you about a dream she had. Apparently, she and Kris met Tenna as his gameshow host's self, and they were forced to play through several rounds on his TV Time program, using "magic" and "acts" to win every challenge thrown their way. All of this accumulated into a "final battle" where he intended to keep them all playing forever, decreeing that his show would "never end".

He sounded evil, until Susie also told you that he used to be Kris' TV, who was lonely and afraid of being forgotten when everyone at their house stopped watching him. They came to realize he wasn't really a bad guy, and promised to find somebody who'd take him into their home. Someone who could fix him and enjoy all the programs he had to offer.

That was the real reason she wanted you to have him.

"Wow, that sounds like...a super vivid dream." You hummed as you both stopped in front of your house, looking up at her. "I guess you'd feel weird having him in your house after making that promise."

"Erm..yeah." She rubbed her neck awkwardly. "Just...don't go telling anyone about that dream, alright? It's between you and me."

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me." You chuckled. "Did you wanna spend the night? My parents won't be back till later."

"I can't tonight. But next time? Hell yeah." With a toothy grin, Susie lightly punched your arm. "Say hi to Tenna for me, will ya?"

"Will do."

After waving goodbye to her, you remained in front of the door for a moment, wondering if you'll somehow meet Tenna in your own dreams. The chances seemed to be likely, although you still had some doubts.

Shrugging, you decided that the only way that could be possible was if you headed to bed. So you went inside and shut the door, sighing as you hung up your bag on the coatrack and rubbed your eyes.

But the peace and quiet you were used to coming home to wasn't there right now.

Instead, you felt a rather...heavy and foreboding presence.

One that that made your heart pound, warning your gut that there was someone else in this house with you.

Somebody that shouldn't be here.

"Hello...?"

There was no response.

After grabbing a hammer off the counter for protection, you wheeled yourself towards your room, that same sensation only worsening the closer you got to the door. Then you were right in front of it, confused as to why it was fully closed, knowing damn well you didn't leave it that way when you were heading to school.

All instincts told you not to open it up, to get away and call the police....yet curiosity got the better of you, as you cautiously pried it open.

At first, nothing seemed amiss...

Until you spotted a dark and tall skeletal figure standing in the very corner, merged with the shadows. They appeared to be a monster, and normally you wouldn't think to judge their appearance.

But they looked nothing like any resident of the town you've seen before. Plus, they're just here...in your room, and you had no idea why or what they wanted. They seemed fixated with your television, speaking to it in a language you couldn't understand.

"H-Hey. Who are you?! That TV isn't for sale.."

They were caught by surprise, immediately turning to face you. They had a singular glowing mouth/eye, and sharp claws with holes in the palms, clutching a long and jagged sword.

Fear gripped your heart as you stared back at the monster, hands trembling as you knew you were no match for them. You tried to remember what your parents told you about intruders....but they've never said anything about sword-wielding ones.

They took one step towards you, and you immediately surrendered, terrified for your life.

"A-Actually, you can have it! It's yours. I know it's a rarity, so...j-just take it and leave me alone." You pleaded, trying to move yourself backwards. "Please..I-I don't want any trouble."

They stepped closer, a smaller sword manifesting out of thin air beside them.

"Wait, wait....what are you doing with that??"

Their only response was a wicked grin, before they suddenly threw their arm up and slammed it back down, the sword following their movements and stabbing the floor itself.

In an instant, a pillar of bright white light illuminated the entire room, followed by thick billowing clouds of black smoke that enveloped every single one of your senses.....

After that, there was total darkness.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

You woke up in a strange place.

"..h...huh?"

As you slowly regained consciousness, you realized you were somewhere cold and a dark. A rickety wooden floor was beneath you, creaking under the weight of you and your wheelchair. And in the distance, you could hear the whistle of a wind draft.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to survey your surroundings and make sense of what exactly happened.

'There was an intruder...a monster with a sword. They were in my room...and.....huh?' As you took your hand away from your face, you realized you were wearing armored gauntlets with black gloves. 'What? When did I get these..?'

You then looked down at yourself, seeing that your outfit was completely different: befitting of a medieval blacksmith, with a silver chest plate covered by a black leather apron. In your other hand was a weapon--a large hammer, to be more precise, that shimmered with magic.

Not only that, but your wheelchair was different, too. It was covered in armored plates, bearing the symbols of Delta Rune on the armrests. You definitely didn't engrave any of those, so...how was that possible?

Could this be the same dream Susie had about-?

A shriek from the darkness startled you, and upon looking up....your blood ran cold as you realized it was the same knight-like monster from before. Somehow, they brought you here....and you still had no idea what they wanted.

"Oh come on...I..I-I told you it was yours!" You shouted, terrified out of your mind. "Do you even understand me?? I don't want any trouble!!"

They tilted their head to the side, lowering their weapon. But instead of giving you an answer, they raised their free hand, and from the hole in their palm, a violet beam of energy burst forth and made contact with you.

It didn't hurt, but you felt yourself being pulled towards it, helpless to stop-

"OH NO YOU DON'T!!"

Out of nowhere, a microphone was thrown at their head, cutting off their energy beam as they shrieked and spun around to see who did that.

"Y-Yeah! That's what you get for sneaking up on me!!"

You realized who your savior was, eyes widening.

It was Tenna, or at least..his gameshow-persona. And he was a lot taller than what he appeared on television. He looked scared as hell, as though regretting his actions. But he wiped away the sweat on his screen and made himself look bigger, huffing as he put his fists up.

"That's right...I-I'm back. I don't take orders from you anymore. So...if you want a fight, then....huh?"

Much to his confusion (and yours), the Knight transformed into a floating ball of darkness, flying past him and vanishing from sight--as though they suddenly didn't feel like fighting or kidnapping you anymore.

But...at least they've gone away for the time being.

"You there! Are you alright??? Did they hurt you?? I didn't think my aim would be that good."

You turned your attention back to Tenna, surprised that he was now talking to you directly. But when he recognized you, he gasped. "Wait, could it be...you're [y/n], right??"

"Uh...yeah?" You blinked slowly. "I'm okay. You're...the Mr. Ant Tenna?"

"Oh please. Just "Tenna" is fine! That's what you've been calling me!" He waved you off with a small laugh. "Are you familiar with Susie? Ah, what a sweetheart she was to send me to your parents' doorstep! She kept her promise. If only I could thank her.."

To say you were stunned would be a total understatement.

You were finally having a dream about this same person your friend spoke of--the one you hoped to meet. But the strangest thing was that you don't remember ever falling asleep.

You had no idea where you were or why you had this strange armor on....nor why that knight-like figure attacked you.

Your mind was still a bit hazy, so you decided to spare yourself the headache and not think about that right now.

"I know Susie. She...told me she had-"

"It's funny. One moment, I'm playing court jester to a King and his son, and the next...I'm here! YOU'RE here!" He pointed to you with dramatic flair. Somewhere in the distance, an audience was cheering. "You....You're the one who fixed me up, aren't you?" His voice went quiet as he then kneeled in front of you, hands clasped together like a prayer. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"I....you're welcome, I guess." You were still having a hard time grasping all of this. But then again, you must've been dreaming...so nothing truly had to make sense here. "Susie talked about you in one of her dreams."

"Dreams....?" He seemed confused at first, although he perked up. "Why...of course! I'm sure she told you a lot about me, didn't she?"

"Yeah, and...also about Kris."

"...I figured as much. I'm gonna miss them a lot...Toriel, Asgore, Asriel..." His shoulders slumped.

You blinked. "You knew all of them?"

"Knew them? I've been with them their whole lives, kid!" Tenna cleared his throat. "You see, I was the one they all gathered around during holidays and even regular ol' days! Just one big happy family sharing smiles, tears, and screams around my screen." His face glitched to show the inside of the Dreemurr's living room space. "I've gotten them through good times, bad times...everything! But then.... things changed. Everyone was fighting, some left and never came back. Those who stayed...didn't even look at me anymore."

You frowned slightly, seeing his antennae droop as the image disappeared, replaced with a frown of his own. "I kept asking myself...where did it all go wrong? Why couldn't I keep them together? I thought I was going to be unplugged for the last time and thrown out. But then Susie had this great idea. She told me that wasn't my fate. She found somebody who'd want me. And....that turned out to be you, [y/n]." His smile returned.

This was...some interesting information. You barely knew about Kris' family--except for the fact that Toriel's and Asgore's separation was apparently the talk of the entire town--so to learn that their own TV had seen the fallout from inside the house and somehow believed it was his fault was....quite heartbreaking.

You're surprised he's even telling you all of this.

"I'm sorry you had to see..whatever went down in that house. But if you don't mind me asking, do you remember how you got um...so banged up? Was it that knight?"

".....yes. I...w-went against their word, and delivered the grand prize to my contestants. Then out of nowhere, I felt this pain and...e-everything went dark after that." Tenna clutched at his arms, as though afraid they weren't there. "I'm okay now, though. Susie and her friends fixed me up. But you made me feel like brand new."

Standing up, he looked down at you with a warm smile. "And in turn, I've made you the happiest you've been in a long time! Am I right or am I wrong?" He tossed his hands up in glee.

You couldn't protest that. If he had seen everything that happened in the Dreemurr household, then surely...he's heard all the things you've said to him back in your world.

Everything from your chronic pain, to how different you felt from your peers, and to how silly yet comforting it was talking to a television set. He knew so much about you, so it's no wonder he wanted to tell you so much about himself.

"Yeah. You did. I really do enjoy watching those programs after school."

"....you do?"

His change of tone was like an emotional whiplash, and you were confused as he began tapping his fingers together nervously. "They haven't...bored you yet?"

"No. Why do you ask that, Tenna?" You tilted your head, seeing him now looking down at the floor. In that moment, you swear you heard him sniffling. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing. I just...wanna take a quick survey. Do you like sports? What's your favorite part of TV Time-?"

"Are you afraid that...I'll get bored of you, too?"

Judging from how he shrank significantly--becoming even smaller than you---your answer was right on the money. You felt bad for even asking him that, but you didn't want him to hide anything else from you.

"I'm sorry. Even after all this time, I...I-I still feel useless." A spotlight illuminated him as his antenna drooped once more, his screen going completely black. "I admit it. I'm outdated. I don't come with any updates. I know nothing about apps, or streaming, or the Internet. I can't even come up with new segments for my gameshow!! You were fully committed to fixing me, and yet...this is all I can offer. The same reruns, the same weather reports, the same quizzes, same prizes..the same....everything!" He clutched his head, falling to his knees. "I'm sorry if it's not enough. I...I try my best. I just...don't wanna become junk.."

Hearing his words only made your heart sink further. Susie definitely didn't say anything about him having all this unresolved trauma in her note.

But...you wanted to comfort him.

Even though you're still convinced this was all nothing more than a dream, you were feeling a certain type of guilt that would probably haunt you if you woke up.

You were determined to help him, and prove that you wanted him to stay with you.

Somehow this world knew your exact thoughts, and reacted accordingly by projecting a spotlight onto you. You didn't mind the soft music playing in the background, nor the hush from the invisible audience.

Instead you just looked at Tenna. "Why would I wanna get rid of you? Meeting you was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

His antenna twitched slightly.

"Listen, I know how it feel to seem "boring". After my accident, nobody really wanted to hang out with me anymore, and...tinkering with machines is all I'm really good at. Moving into a new town didn't make me feel much better. I still felt useless. Like I'd never amount to anything. But now? I'm happy knowing that I've been able to help you with my skills. My parents were pretty proud of me...but you might've already heard that, huh?"

"........."

Continuing, you sighed. "Honestly? Modern TV is kinda overrated. There's too many commercials, too many things locked behind "yearly plans"....it takes all the fun out of watching it. But with your shows, I don't have to worry about any of that crap. I needed an escape from reality, and repairing you, talking to you...has made me feel less lonely. It helped me forget my pain. It made me feel like I've gained a friend." You smiled warmly, hoping he could see it. "You've helped me more than you realize, too. Plus, you saved me from that scary knight back there."

He could feel a squeeze on his heart, and he sniffled again, slowly looking up at you. "Y-You...think of me as a friend?"

"Of course." You wheeled closer, holding your hand out to him. "I don't regret fixing you, Tenna. Not one bit."

"So...you're truly happy with me? Are you sure my broadcasts are good enough?"

"They're more than good. They're marvelous." You chuckled at the way his screen flickered back to normal, his mouth completely agape.

"Marvelous??"

Just like that, the dramatic spotlights were gone. His size changed back to normal, and his grin was wider than ever before. "Oh, thank you!! Thank you!!!" He shook your hand vigorously, as though he was accepting the Nobel peace prize. "I knew I wasn't boring you yet! I knew it all along! I'll never doubt you ever again!"

"Sure, haha." You smile back, letting his hand go as he pulled a microphone out of thin air. "So..I don't think I wanna wake up just yet. What should we do now?"

"I'm glad you asked!" He laughed. "I have a plan to repay you for all your generosity! Have you always wanted to be on one of my shows???" Holding the microphone to you, you blinked for a moment, flustered that you were being put on the spot.

"A-Ah..well-"

"Oh what am I saying? Of COURSE you do!! Well, my dear friend, you're in luck! Because NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO LIVE THAT REALITY!!"

"...wait wha-"

With the snap of his fingers, the lights in the decrepit area suddenly cut out, and when they came back on--you found yourself on a colorful stage, sitting in front of a podium with a smaller microphone. Behind you was a large screen with the "TV TIME" logo displayed, and in front of you was an audience of creatures made from shadows.

They were all applauding and cheering, the volume growing tenfold as Tenna appeared beside you, bowing.

It was exactly like the program you loved to watch.

Only this time, you were the star.

"THAAAT'S RIGHT, FOLKS! We are officially off hiatus and back on the air! Isn't that wonderful?" He clasped his hands together, before gesturing to you. "And we could all thank our lovely contestant for that! So let's give 'em a hand, everyone!"

Bashful at all of this attention, you waved politely to the crowd, who was already throwing flowers onto the stagefloor. You managed to catch one and rest it on your podium, grinning.

This was definitely one vivid dream you were having, but you were looking forward to whatever Tenna had in store for you this "episode".

"Now let's jump right into our first round! Don't touch that dial! Beeeecauuuuse....IT'S. T.V. TIIIIME!!!"

[reylwq]

𝓘t wa𝓼𝓷’𝓽 a 𝓶𝓲𝓼take, 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂

SUMMARY: Best friends. One night. No rules. I woke up in his bed, naked. Now nothing feels the same… and I don’t think either of us wants it to.

PAIRINGS: Jay x fem!reader

TROPES: best friends to lovers , drunk confessions

WORD COUNT: 1,9k

SMUT TAGS: 18+ content, smut , explicit sexual content , unprotected sex , oral sex , not much talking

WARNING TAGS: accidental sex (only drunk) , emotional aftermath , one night stand (but it’s not really) , post hook up tension

A/N: Hii again!! I made this one pretty fast so I have something to post. So I’m sorry if it’s maybe going too fast but whatever. I hope you like it and also give me some ideas on what other stories I can write :)

───────── ୨୧ ─────────

How the hell did I end up here — with my best friend since eighth grade… naked in his bed, after a night I can barely piece together?

Jay had just asked if I wanted to hit up this downtown party. Nothing serious. Some mutuals, some drinks. We’d done it a hundred times. It was supposed to be harmless.

But the drinks didn’t stop. And the music blurred into noise. Then there was his hand on my lower back. Then me leaning into him. Then our laughter started to sound more like flirting. It didn’t feel like the usual us. It felt like something was shifting, something we both ignored.

After that… flashes. Heat. His lips. My name, whispered like a secret. Clothes peeling off. His fingers sliding up my thighs. That groan… oh, that groan, like I’d undone something he’d been holding in for years.

Then darkness.

— Next morning !!

My head is pounding.

A dull ache, like someone turned up the bass inside my skull. I shift, groaning quietly as I blink into the unfamiliar morning light filtering through Jay’s bedroom window.

I don’t remember falling asleep. Just… the rush. His hands. My breath catching. And now, this.

I twist slowly, body sore in ways that remind me too clearly that last night wasn’t a dream. That’s when I see him.

Jay.

Asleep, one hand resting over his stomach, the other tucked beneath the pillow. His chest rises and falls, calm. Maybe too calm for the hurricane spinning in my head.

I lift the blanket, just enough to confirm what I already know.

Naked. Shit.

I let out a quiet curse and glance back at him. He’s still asleep. Should I wake him? Should I sneak out? But I can’t just leave him like some hookup with a stranger?

My heart is pounding so loud it feels like it might wake him for me.

I look around his room. Clothes everywhere. My bra on the floor. His shirt tangled at the foot of the bed. And beneath all that: tension. So much unspoken, wrapped around us like another blanket.

I sit up slowly, pressing a hand to my forehead, fuck… The air feels too thick. Like guilt. Or maybe confusion. Maybe both. I don’t know.

Then, behind me, I hear the sheets rustle.

Jay stirs.

He turns, face buried in the pillow for a second before his eyes crack open, blinking lazily. It takes a few beats, slow ones, before he really sees me.

Naked. Wrapped in his blanket. Sitting at the edge of his bed like I might bolt the fuck out of his room.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, still heavy with sleep. My name sounds different in his mouth now. Or maybe I’m just hearing it differently.

I freeze. I don’t know what to say.

He squints at me, confused. “Wait— what… what happened?”

His brow furrows as he sits up slowly, the reality starting to settle over him like it did for me a few minutes ago. His gaze flickers to the blanket clutched around my body. His shirtless chest. The scent of last night still lingering in the air.

Then our eyes meet.

We both say nothing. I mean what are we supposed to say?!

The silence between us is thick. Fragile. Like one wrong word could shatter everything.

I exhale slowly, my voice barely a whisper. “I think we… went too far.”

Jay doesn’t move. Just looks at me, eyes clouded, unreadable.

And in that moment, neither of us knows what this is. A one-time mistake? A buried truth finally surfacing? Or the start of something we can’t undo?

- - -

I don’t tell him to stop.

I don’t even move. I just breathe, shallow, shaky as Jay’s fingers trace slowly up from my hip, gliding across the skin that’s still warm from sleep and memory.

He’s watching me like he’s afraid to move too fast, like he knows if he breaks the rhythm of this moment, we’ll both wake up and this will be gone.

“You sure?” he whispers, voice tight in his throat.

I nod once, barely. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes.

His mouth brushes mine, so gently it could be a question. And when I lean in to answer, not with words, but with a kiss… it deepens instantly, like we’d both been holding back just enough.

His hand finds my waist again, pulling me against him, and the blanket slips further down between us, forgotten. My skin slides against his, warm and soft and too much all at once. Oh, god…

His lips move slow. Careful. But his hands…

God, his hands are already different.

More confident now. More familiar. They move like he remembers how I sound, how I moved beneath him just hours ago and he’s chasing that again.

He lays me back onto the pillows, shifting over me, and everything about the way he touches me is… softer this time. Slower. Like he’s savoring it now, like he wants to memorize every second of this in case it never happens again.

My legs part for him easily, instinctively, and his hand trails down between us, fingers dipping low to test me. I gasp softly at the contact.

“Still wet,” he murmurs, voice rough, almost in awe.

I grip his bicep as my back arches slightly. “Don’t— don’t say shit like that.”

He smirks into my neck, kisses just beneath my ear. “Why? You like it.”

And maybe I do. Maybe I really do. Especially when his fingers keep moving, slow and teasing, slipping through me with maddening precision. My body’s reacting faster than my mind, hips rising up to meet him, my breath catching in my throat.

I whimper as his mouth moves down, across my chest, his tongue tracing slow circles over my skin. He lingers there, like he can’t get enough of me, and when I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging just slightly, he groans, low and desperate, into my skin.

“Jay…” I whisper, hips shifting under him, needing more. Needing him.

He slides up again, pressing his forehead to mine, his body hovering just above mine, poised. “You want me?”

His voice is a whisper, but it carries the weight of everything we haven’t said.

I meet his eyes, my fingers curling around the back of his neck, and nod. “Yeah. I want you.”

That’s it.

He pushes into me, slow. My mouth falls open with a gasp. The stretch is familiar now, but still intense, and this time, it’s more than just lust. It’s heavy. Emotional. Bare.

Jay groans as he sinks deeper, his hips pressing flush against mine, his hand gripping the sheet beside my head like he’s holding himself back. “F-fuck, you feel… God, Y/N.”

My nails rake gently down his back as I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer. “Move, Jay. Please…”

And he does.

He starts slow, dragging his hips back, then pressing in again, deeper this time. His rhythm is steady, sensual, each thrust smooth and deliberate.

I moan softly with every one, our bodies syncing up like we’ve done this a hundred times before.

Jay’s lips find mine again, kissing me with heat and hunger, and something tender underneath. His hand slides under my thigh, lifting it just enough to push in deeper, to hit that spot that makes me gasp into his mouth.

He moans, low, needy. “God, you’re so perfect.”

Everything builds from there.

His pace picks up. His thrusts hit harder. The soft groans become louder, breathier and desperate. My hips roll up to meet him, and soon we’re moving together like we can’t get close enough. Like we need this to mean something, even if we’re both too scared to admit it.

My back arches as heat coils tight in my stomach, my cries getting sharper with each push. “Jay— I’m—”

“I know,” he growls into my neck. “I got you. Just— fuck— hold on to me.”

And I do.

Because in this moment, there’s no confusion. No overthinking. No regrets.

Just us.

And the way he’s moving inside me, faster, deeper as if chasing the high of something that’s been buried between us for way too long.

Something that’s no longer just physical.

It’s everything.

Jay’s rhythm shifts, no more restraint, no more hesitation. Just need.

He fucks me harder now, each thrust hitting deep, sharp, the sound of skin on skin filling the room in sync with our ragged breathing and the creak of the mattress beneath us.

My fingers dig into his back, nails dragging down his spine as I cry out, loud, no longer caring who hears. The pressure is unbearable now, my whole body curling around the sensation of him driving into me, deep and relentless.

“Jay— oh my god—” My voice breaks, shaking under the weight of it.

He grabs my hips, lifting them, tilting me just enough to hit that spot over and over, and when he finds it, he doesn’t stop. His jaw clenches, sweat dripping from his temple onto my collarbone as he watches me unravel beneath him.

“You like that?” he growls, his voice wrecked. “You like it when I fuck you like this?”

I nod wildly, mouth open, breath caught between moans. “Yes— yes— please don’t stop.”

He grips my wrists, pins them above my head, and thrusts harder, deeper, rougher. I’m completely at his mercy, thighs trembling, body arching as pleasure crashes through me like a wave threatening to drown us both.

He leans down, mouth right at my ear, his words shaking with every thrust.

“You feel so fucking good— I can’t— I can’t get enough of you.”

My eyes flutter shut as I gasp his name, legs tightening around him. He bites gently at my neck, then groans, loud, raw, as he fucks me faster, sweat-slick bodies colliding with every stroke.

“I’m close—” I choke out, hips grinding up into him, chasing the high like it’s life or death.

“I know, baby— I feel you. You’re so tight— shit— come for me. Right now.”

His voice demands it, low, commanding, right against my mouth and that’s all it takes.

I shatter around him, body shaking violently as I scream his name, waves of pleasure tearing through me. My walls pulse around him, and he loses it.

He thrusts deep, once—twice—then he growls my name, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside me, hips jerking with the force of it. His whole body trembles above mine, muscles flexing as he rides out every last pulse of his release, breath ragged in my ear.

We don’t move for a moment.

His chest is pressed to mine, our skin sticky, our bodies still joined. The room smells like sweat and sex and something else. Something heavier.

Something like truth.

Jay finally lifts his head, his forehead pressed to mine, and he just looks at me.

No words.

No apology.

Just us.

Breathing hard. Hearts racing. Still tangled in the wreckage of something we didn’t mean to start but can’t bring ourselves to stop.

And we both know, this wasn’t the last time.

Not even close.

───────── ୨୧ ─────────

[westanleovaldito]

Had to take a small break and write for myself so heres

Roommate!Spencer (New beginnings)

CW: fluff, domesticity, mention of bullying

A/N: its my first roommate fic possibly out of many. Idk i just have a lot of ideas for series and i want to write them AAAAALLLLLLLLLL!!! (And i know the roommate trope is kinda popular now but i dont care because i like it.)

You had known of Spencer for a year, but you only recently began to be fond of him. Everyone on campus had heard of the boy who got a diploma at twelve, and started bouncing around colleges to collect degrees like pokemon cards.

At the start of every year, he became a sort of cryptid. A campus urban legend. People either bullied him, hated him, or (the vast minority) were deeply protective of him. But with each year, he became less noticeable with age.

It was in the library before midterms of your freshman year, that you saw him and spoke to him.

You were seated across the room, and normally you would never interrupt another's studies. But you saw how quickly his finger grased the pages of his book, flipping quickly. Your eyes went wide and the words flew out before you could stop them.

"Boy genius?!" Like a conspiratory whisper, that could be heard across the room.

He sighed and threw his head back. "No, I will not do your homework!"

"No- no I'm sorry-" you choked out. He met your gaze with a cocked brow, causing a sigh to draw from your lips. "I just- deeply envy you."

He nodded, unphased. "Lots of people do."

The silence was uncomfortable, prolonged.

"Cramming?" He asked. You didn't know he spoke unprompted.

Still, you nodded. "Chemistry. You?"

"I'm not worried." He shrugged, raising his book with a thin lipped smile. "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea"

"Verne?" You questioned, gathering your things to move closer. "I thought you were permanently restricted to textbooks."

He shook his head, chuckling as a soft blush crept onto his cheeks. Spencer licked his lips, and continued, "I'm actually very well versed in literature."

To say he looked permanently sad was an understatement. He looked more like a pitiful shelter dog that was conditioned to look at every human and expect violence. With all the rumors surrounding his severe bullying, you couldn't be surprised.

From the moment you saw the deep rooted sadness in his soul, you knew you were going to weasle your way into his heart, and force him to know love. If you were already overflowing with it, what was one more friend to bake cookies for?

You had, infact, managed to get under his skin. At least, enough that he knew a few things. You liked his fun facts, you hated interrupting or being interrupted, and you disgustingly and faithfully dedicated to being his friend. It wasn't even manipulation, like he thought it was at first.

It was easier for him to let you in his life, let the plates of baked goods come into his hands, and let you into his small friend group, despite the fact that you already had your own.

Though, he assumed you would go to your own, closer friends for a roommate. But you quickly caught on to how he was always everyone's second choice, and decided to make a leap of faith.

Spencer greeted you with a smile as you bolted into the library, laptop in hand, but was not greeted with the same calm air.

You were out of breath, for seemingly no reason at all, but he didn't have time to question it before you set the computer down, opened it, and quickly turned it to face him.

It was a half assed power point with black text and a white background, titled "Why We Should Get an Apartment" and the smaller text beneath it read "Yes. Us. Together."

Spencer blinked between the text and you, his brow knit together and his mouth opened to speak. Before he could, you had already started.

"Saving money." You paused to aggressively press the space bar. The powerpoint faded to a bullet point that slowly drifted in from the left. "I did the math. I cried over it. Don't correct me or I'll cry more."

You paused, taking a breath and waving off any unspoken concerns he continuously tried to voice. "Soryimreallyoutofbreath- If you and I move in together, I would help support us, and we could split rent. It would save us the cost of a dorm, we would have private bathrooms, and you wouldn't have to deal with the parties and noise."

You then pressed another button, and another bullet point slid in from the right. "I'm lonely, and I don't want to go back to my hometown- you also told me you also dislike going home."

Spencer looked at you with a raised brow, bouncing his leg as he probably began to nit pick you.

You sighed and looked back to the computer. Click. Nothing. Clickclickclick. "Uh..." your hair whiped your face as you quickly looked between the biy and your computer.

Your lips pursed in a way that mimiced Spencer's face when he had to say he didn't shake hands. "Also, I need more guinea pigs for baking and.....I don't like living by myself..."

Spencer looked at you with a face that read 'thoroughly unimpressed.'

"Yeah- I know it's stupid." You sighed, shutting the laptop and turning to leave.

A soft, hesitant voice came from Spencer. "I think it's worth a shot?"

You whipped around so fast, you might have brocken your neck. "Really?!"

"Uh- sure?" Spencer said, looking a bit amused by your excitement. "All I ask is that we take turns doing dishes, and keep the place clean."

To say you were elated was an understatement. Honestly, Spencer would have done anything to see that smile again. But instead he simply stood and smiled at you.

You almost hugged him, but quickly dropped your arms to your sides and settled for bouncing on your heels and making a flapping motion with your hands

"I've never had a roommate before- what does it entail?" He asked through a beaming smile. It was all because yours was contagious.

Your head fell to the side, your smile falling as if he brought something to mind that drifted over your head. "Well... I wanted to get you on board with the idea first..."

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Finals are coming up soon, so we should agree on a place before end of term."

You both agreed on a place to meet, to further discuss.

You had agreed on a two bed, two bath apartment on the third floor, with a patio, standad kitchen and amenities.

Shoving what little could fit into a small trailer, that was all you could afford, you ended up with Spencers bed and desk, your desk, bed, and as many clothes and belongings you both could Tetris Stack in.

Sure, you lacked a couch, washer and dryer as well as decoration, but you would surely manage.

For now, all you could focus on was setting up your respective rooms, sharing Chinese takeout on the floor, and the flowers that bloomed in your heart at the first ever sight of Spencers toothy, wholehearted smile.

[laruezzzz]

~ 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖗!𝖛𝖎 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘 [𝖘𝖋𝖜 + 𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜]

🏎️𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪ 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶, 𝔰𝔢𝔱, 𝔤𝔬 !

𝖘𝖋𝖜

~ streetracer!vi, who taps three fingers on the dashboard before she ever turns the key. real casual, like- if you blink, you miss it. like muscle memory or an old prayer. nobody asks why. nobody dares to. one time, in her haste, she didn’t do it- just climbed in and peeled the fuck out, and she spun her tires clean off the first corner. still blames the gravel for it.

~ streetracer!vi, who's palms are raw and ragged cause she won’t stop tightening bolts barehanded. fingernails gone blunt from prying rusted hoods open. grease inked deep into her skin, like it grew there, or something. you ask if she’s okay, because, duh, her hands are ruined, and she flexes her fist like it’s a joke. “can still knock out teeth with them just fine, yeah?” that's her metric. not comfort. nope, just function and impact.

~ streetracer!vi, who can never for the life of her remember her own jacket, but always keeps one on herself for you. always. it smells like asphalt, cheap citrus-y shampoo and burnt rubber. it’s not just a gift, but an insurance, too. it's a breadcrumb trail back to the only softness she lets out in daylight. you try to give it back once and she frowns at you like you just told her you killed her dog, or something. doesn’t say a word. just drapes it back over your shoulders and taps your collarbone thrice, the same way she does to her car. deal sealed.

~ streetracer!vi, who never learned how to sit still without fidgeting. always chewing on something- gum, a random matchstick, the silver chain that hangs from her neck. hands twitching like they’re waiting for a steering wheel to wrap around. but the second she leans against your shoulder, she's stillness personified. it's like you’re the engine kill switch she never knew she needed. doesn’t say anything about it, just closes her eyes and lets her jaw go slack. she's so, so precious.

~ streetracer!vi never manages to show up on time, but always shows up regardless. blasting music too loud, wrestling with her half-on hoodie, keys clenched between her teeth. “sorry,” she mumbles, tossing you a drink like some sort of peace offering, “got caught tuning the beast.” that’s what she calls her car- the beast, although its real name is powder. she treats it like it’s a pet, or a partner, or a piece of herself she’s trying to wrangle. you don’t mind waiting on her. watching her show up is half the fun, after all.

~ streetracer!vi, who doesn’t do birthdays but never fails to remembers your. she celebrates, obviously, but not with cake, and not with flowers, either. rather, with a midnight ride through the city, all windows down, engine howling wildly. she takes the long way, or as you call it, the scenic route, touring your favourite spots one by one. she stops at that late-night vendor for greasy loaded fries and a mango-soda float.

~ streetracer!vi, who flirts like she’s throwing elbows with her pit crew-quick jabs, smirks cocked at dangerous angles. but when she’s proud of you, like really proud? that’s when she goes really, really soft. not with words, though. with her stare. with the way she lets her touch linger for an extra second, thumb brushing your temple like she’s trying to memorise you. “you’re killin’ it,” she murmurs, although it's more to herself than to you. voice all low, reverent. like maybe, for once, she's realised she doesn’t have to be loud all the time.

~ streetracer!vi, who likes to pretend that she doesn’t like company but always gives you random things to hold. her jacket. her wrench. a weird little plastic charm that hangs from her rearview, cracked and faded but “not trash, okay?” she won’t ever ask for them back. not because she forgot. but because she wants you to keep them. pieces of her, scattered on your desk, placed delicately your shelf, buried in the depths of your pocket. proof she’s been there.

𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜

~ streetracer!vi, who kisses like it’s her last lap- mouth greedy, hands already mapping detours down your ribs. she’s not slow about it. not gentle either, not at first. she tastes like gas station cherry cola and the dusk, and she grips the back of your neck like you're the only solid thing left when the world blurs at her top speeds. you don’t realise she’s got you backed against her car until the metal hums behind you, scorching from the sun.

~ streetracer!vi, who talks through it. filthy, low, half-laughed- like she’s heckling your body for trying- and failing to keep up. “c’mon, you gonna tap out?” her voice frays around the edges when you dig your nails into her back. she bites your shoulder like it owes her money and keeps going, faster, until you’re gasping her name like a prayer with the vowels torn out. she likes that. she doesn’t want silence- no, she wants the echo of her name in the cavernous expanse of your throat for days.

~ streetracer!vi, who pulls you onto her lap when she's sat in the driver’s seat and says, “don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere”- and fuck, she means it. the engine’s still running. the whole car vibrates under you, low and purring, like it’s in on the secret. her hands grip your hips and guide you like she’s steering on instinct, lips never leaving your jaw. every moan swallowed by her. every rut a collision. you’re not even sure who’s in control anymore, but it's her. she is. she always is.

~ streetracer!vi, who has a thing for mirrors. car mirror, bathroom mirror, doesn’t matter- she likes watching. likes you watching, too. likes catching your eye mid-thrust, all sweat and swagger, her breath fogging the glass as she grinds in deeper. “look how good you take it,” she pants, grip tightening, teeth finding your neck. she doesn’t care if it’s messy. she wants it messy, actually. wants you ruined and still begging for more.

~ streetracer!vi, who marks her territory with more than just bruises. she leaves scratches down your back like tally marks, hickeys high enough they peek past collars, teethprints on thighs from where she got distracted and bit down just a little too hard. you ask her about them and she just shrugs, smug as hell. “gotta let ‘em know who you ride with, no?”

~ streetracer!vi, who can’t help herself when you show up in her garage wearing that. doesn’t even bother asking what you’re doing there- just lifts you onto the workbench, grease-stained hands tugging at belt loops like a woman possessed. “you tryin’ to kill me?” she growls, voice rough from disuse and oil fumes, dragging her tongue up your throat like she’s tasting victory. her fingers fumble with your zipper, but her mouth's already two steps ahead, carving a claim down your collarbone.

~ streetracer!vi, who drags you into the backseat like it's the first time, every time. it’s cramped. it’s sweaty. it smells like burnt rubber and victory, but still she makes it work. one leg over the console, the other braced against the door, she rides you like the road’s beneath her, not peeling leather and shadows. “better than pole position,” she gasps, clawing at your chest like the world outside doesn’t exist. and when you moan her name, loud and raw, she grabs your chin and makes you say it again, louder. she’s proud of the fact you're making that noise for her.

~ streetracer!vi, who loves the cooldown just as much as the race. when it’s all over- when you’re limp and giggling and the windows are fogged up- she pulls you close like you're her seatbelt. forehead to forehead, one hand stroking your spine like she’s checking for damage. “did i hurt you?” she asks, almost too soft for how rough she was a minute ago. you shake your head. she kisses your temple like she doesn’t believe you, and stays cradling you long after the heat fades.

[revelboo]

I'm here for Reader of the Insecticons because its gonna take a long time for that info to sink in. What do you mean its for life.

Yeah, that human isn’t having fun learning things the hard way

You (Don’t) Know Me Pt 15

Insecticons x Reader

• “What do you mean no, no?” Shrapnel growls, servos flexing like he’s itching to reach for you. And shake you. Staring at him, you try to push Kickback’s arm away so you can get some space between you and them. Overwhelmed with Shrapnel’s little claim that if you don’t regularly bond with them, it’ll slowly kill you. And them. Because it’s either bond regularly or slowly weaken and die, giving a whole new horrifying twist to til death do us part. Feeling the overwhelming urge to try and run again even knowing it’s futile.

• Arms tightening around you, Kickback rests his head on top of yours to try and control your struggling. Because if you bolt again, Shrapnel’s going to lose it. “It didn’t occur to you that I’m human and you might need to explain things?” You counter, trembling and he can’t tell if it’s fury or fear, but it’s putting him on edge. “Because this is your fault for making assumptions!” Apparently it’s anger.

• Glowering at you as his spike stirs despite himself at your temper, Shrapnel hisses and turns his attention on Kickback. Who’s making no move to get involved, his wings flicking slightly with a chirp. “You still said you’d be our queen and then ran, ran,” he snarls, electricity beginning to build inside him needing an outlet. And Kickback hisses a warning, legs tensing to shove himself and you clear. Clawed servos flexing, Shrapnel starts pacing. Trying to work out the frustration. Maybe not explaining is their fault, but you’d still lied. Promised to be theirs and ran away first chance you got.

• Stiffening as electricity arcs between those weird curving horns on his shoulders, you lean into Kickback. Because that’s new and definitely not good. Is he angry enough to fry you? But he can’t, can he? They need you and if he electrocutes or strangles you, he goes out with you and so do his brothers. That knowledge making you bold when you really just want to curl into Kickback and let him deal with Shrapnel. “I’m sorry, but did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to live in a damp cave?”

• “You left to scout for a new home?” Kickback asks, jumping on that thought even if he’s sure it’s not true and you’d just been running. From them. Pitching his voice to thread conviction into the question even as he knows Shrapnel is going to be furious if he realizes he’s being manipulated. But Shrapnel’s furious enough to accidentally shock you and he’s not sure you’d survive. Sees Shrapnel hesitate, knowing as well as he does that it’s a lie, but wanting to believe it. “This is only temporary. Unworthy of our queen,” he adds and by some miracle you’re clever enough to not contradict him and he relaxes. “We were searching for a better hive, a worthy hive.” Hears your muttered ‘for fuck’s sake’ and he doesn’t know what that means, but he can work with this. Just needs to convince Bombshell of the lie when he returns. Because this is his skill, coaxing, talking others into doing things, believing things that he wants them to. Just wishes his ability worked on himself because your betrayal hurts.

Previous

Next

[tinylilacbun]

Deadpool with a baby regressor that he met in Deadpool two after he was brought to the mansion. Regressor was saved by colossus and warhead from the people that experimented in Wade so originally colossus took care of her while little but never fully trusted him like she does with Deadpool.

l i t t l e s h a d o w ‎𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚

Wade has been at the mansion for a few days now, being a trainee for the X-Men has its perks but also means following those idiotic rules. It is what it is.

What he notices is that since his arrival he feels someone following around and watching him, getting a few glances at you before you disappear again.

One day his curiosity gets the best of him and he decides to ask Colossus about you, finding him eating cereal in the kitchen. "You know, either I'm starting to go insane or someone is following me." Wade starts instantly in a whisper, looking over his shoulder paranoid.

"Wade, it's too early for this-"

"No, I'm telling you- there!" Wade points at the doorway, a quiet giggle being heard before you bolt again.

"Oh. That's Y/n. We rescued her a few years ago from the lab you were at too. I'm warning you this once, watch yourself around her, she's a regressor." Colossus warns him, pointing a finger at him.

"Sorry, a what?"

"A regressor, it means she reverts to that mind of a child to deal with her trauma. She's one of the younger ones and regresses mostly to an toddler or baby headspace." He explains. "I promise you, if I hear one word from her that you made fun of her I'll personally-"

"Chill out, who am I to judge someone for the way they cope." Wade puts his hands up to calm him down. "What uh- what's the reason she does that? Hey, don't look at me like that I did listen this time but- y'know what I mean."

"She went exactly what you went through, but she was only 18 years old at that time."

Wade only nods, staying quiet for the first time in his life as he glances towards the doorway again.

Later that day he found himself walking around the mansion, accidentally breaking two or three things during his snooping when he passes a door that has colorful bold letters on it that spells your name.

He slowly pushes it open a bit, taking a peek inside and his eyes almost pop out of his head while taking in your room.

It is big, and looks like a daycare, with the walls painted a pastel pink and some cloud designs, a big rainbow carpet in the center, the canopy bed that could at least fit 5 people standing off to the side, and not to mention all different toys or activity possibilities.

You're currently laying on your stomach on the carpet as you color little doodles on a blank sheet with your crayons sprawled around you.

"Damn, it looks like a toy store threw up in here." He blurts out before he could stop himself.

You squeak in surprise, scrambling off the floor to climb onto your bed, hiding under the bedsheets.

Wade chuckles as he takes a few more steps into the room, his legs automatically taking him towards where you're hiding, the little giggles you let out not going unnoticed by him.

As he stands at the side of your bed he reaches out to pinch one of your toes that's peeking out from under the blanket, smiling when you quickly pull it into safety.

"Heard you're the baby of the X-Men." He says, refraining himself from laughing when you instantly push the blanket of you with an offended expression.

"You baby!" You stick your tongue out at him, crossing your arms.

"Oh, I can scream like one for sure." He huffs, smiling at the way you cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. "How old are you? I mean- like, right now in there." He asks, tapping your forehead.

You think for a moment, holding up one finger, shaking your head and changing it to two instead.

"Then you are a baby, a pretty cute one and with powers, that's kinda cool. Sweet yet deadly." He says and your face lights up at that.

Ever since that, Wade came to your room more often, finding the way you go through the world with such innocence despite what happened to you intriguing, and oddly comforting.

He likes the fact that he can rant whatever he wants while you just stare at him with big eyes, sucking up everything he says like a sponge, giggling sweetly every now and then or adding your adorable gibberish to which he absolutely agrees.

The others in the Mansion are shocked, to say the least, because usually you're in your room or don't have the courage to talk with anyone other besides Colossus, so the fact you're spending so much time with Wade of all people is something no one saw coming.

Colossus was wary at first, for obvious reasons, but he can see how much Wade changed you in the few weeks he's been here now, coming a little out of your shell and not hiding away as much as you used to, both of you quickly bonding over the fact you went to the same hellhole in the past.

Needless to say, you're not the X-Men's baby anymore, you're Deadpool's little peanut, and you're the happiest you've ever been since your rescue.

[yanyandam]

HII I've been reading some of your works and I really really like your writing! it flows so well, you get the characters personalities right and I just love everything. It's kind of a boring request but could you do Mikey, Baji, Smiley or Rindo x fem boxer reader? Maybe he helps her train, gives her advice, hypes her up before a fight, tends her injuries/bruises, picks her up after practice, stuff like that or anything else you come up with

YO YO YO sorry for the lonnng wait. TY FOR THE SUPPORT! NOT BORING AT ALL BTW I always loved this idea. Hope this fits...I wanted to do one shots but didn't have much time so just threw hcs for the whole crowd

BOXER GF! HCS- Mikey, Baji, Smiley and Rindou

-Mikey adores sparring with you, he calls it "bonding time". -Brags about you to literally everyone, even if they didn’t ask. Even at hot springs. “You see these abs? My girl PUNCHED them into me.” -Constantly makes sound effects and dumb poses while you’re doing serious training (which somehow hypes you up more) -Will pout if you’re too focused on boxing and not on him -You tape his fingers when he gets into useless fights like a kid, and he calls it “girlfriend blessings”.

-Overall, he thinks you’re the coolest, but don't expect him to often help you with anything

-----

The gym is empty except for the echo of punches hitting the heavy bag. Manjiro's lying on the floor beside you, half-asleep with an energy drink can balanced on his forehead. You’re in full training mode, sweat dripping, jaw clenched, laser-focused. He whines without opening his eyes, "you’ve been punching that bag for, like… hours.”

"It’s been twenty minutes," you mutter, throwing another combo. He bolts upright with a dramatic gasp. “That’s it. I challenge you. Loser makes dinner!”

You raise an eyebrow. “We don’t even live together. Besides, you can’t cook.”

“Exactly,” he grins, bouncing on his toes. “You better win.” you both end up wrestling more than sparring. He keeps slipping on the mat “accidentally” so she ends up straddling him in victory. “You win,” he sighs dreamily, arms around your waist. “You always do.”

-Baji always refers to you as "my undefeated queen" even if you’ve had some losses, in his mind, you never lose.-Thinks your punches are like poetry in motion, and internally cries when you land a perfect combo.-Tries to sneak peke j into the gym to “watch mama train.”-Gets way too into corner-manning during your matches and ends up yelling the wrong advice -Overall, also thinks you’re the coolest. Period.

---

Baji waits outside your boxing match with hidden nervous energy, pacing in circles with a box of handmade biscuits ("for post-fight protein," he insists). A tiny stray cat sits on his shoulder like a parrot. He named it “Coach.” As the bell rings, he clenches his fists like he's the one fighting. "You got this! Just like that!” You land a clean jab. He cheers. You take a hard hit to the ribs. He swears under his breath. After the win, you walk out sweaty and limping, and Baji runs up, dramatic as hell, draping his hoodie over your shoulders like you're royalty.

"Coach and I were sure you’d fuck them all up" he laughs. You pat his head and say, “I only won 'cause I could hear you screaming like a degenerate.” He straightens up with pride. “That's me.”

-Smiles ‘sweetly’ at any ‘fan’ who flirts with you, but Smiley is already planning how to ruin their life. -Loves watching you fight, not for the art, but for the violence. He’s like “Hit harder, babe.” -Trains with you but plays dirty every single time. Still loses on purpose sometimes because he loves the dominance. -Brings your flowers in your favorite color after every match. (There may or may not be blood on the stems.) -Says things like, “You looked so hot with your nose bleeding. Marry me.” With that unmoving smile; It’s lowkey creepy

-Overall thinks you’re the coolest only because you’re his gf, either he would’ve made fun of you for losing the most INSIGNIFICANT fight

---

Nahoya sits ringside during one of your underground fights, chin resting on his hand, smile sweet as syrup but with a glint of something sinister. Every time your opponent tries something dirty, his smile widens, more teeth showing. “You saw that elbow, didn’t you, love?” he calls out mid-round, like they’re discussing the weather. “Break their ribs. For me?” You don't respond. But your next punch does land right in the person’s gut. After the match, you walk past him, bloodied lip and all, giving him a look like don’t push it.

He falls into step beside you, slipping his hand into yours like nothing happened. “You’re breathtaking” he whispers.

"You're insane," you mutter.

"And you chose me," he replies with a smirk. "So what does that make you?" You punch him in the arm. He grins harder.

-Oh Rindou, he thinks you’re perfect. But his arrogance won’t let him admit you’re fine by yourself, he’s pretty sure you have a lot to learn ‘from him’

-Buys you expensive gym gear just to see your reaction when you go “Sweetie, I didn’t need this”. -Hosts post-fight parties in your honor, invites everyone you’ve ever beaten. He thinks it’s funny. -Challenges you to drinking contests after training. Loses every time and calls it “strategy”. If you don’t drink alcohol, it’ll be an energy drinks contest. -Lowkey gets jealous of your trainer and pretends to be your coach just to hang out more.

-----

You’re trying to focus on cardio at the gym with Rindou. He’s shirtless (no reason, just to show off), glasses on, casually lifting weights like he’s in a music video.

“You’re gonna distract me into breaking my ankle,” you call out, adjusting her wraps. “That’s your own willpower issue, not my fault I’m hot,” he smirks, sipping a cocktail out of a shaker bottle. You punch the bag once. Twice. He watches, then puts down his dumbbell. “You’re getting sloppy,” he says lazily.

She glares at him. “Come say that to my face.”

He grins, steps into the ring. "Hit me, champ."

Y’all spar, kind of. He blocks half-heartedly, dodges some, takes a hit to the chest and whistles. “Damn. That one shook my soul. You turn me on and beat me up. Can’t decide if I’m in heaven or not.”

They end up on the mat, him sprawled, her sitting on his chest. He raises an eyebrow. “Afterparty?”

“Only if you let me ride your stupid bike.”

“You had me at ‘stupid’.”

[formulaonecrumbs]

hello again :) how about an angst where oscar and reader are high school sweethearts, but the reader starts to notice that fame is beginning to get to oscar’s head and during yet another one of their arguments, he ends up implying that the reader is a gold digger who’s only with him for the money and fame. this hurts her deeply, especially because she’s been by his side long before he even had a shot at making it to formula 1.

how fucking dare you?

Oscar Piastri x high-school sweetheart!reader

summary: oscar lets fame get to his head and accuses reader of being with him for the wrong reasons. it breaks everything.

warnings: explosive argument, accusations, swearing, heartbreak, breakup, angst with no comfort, oscar being a dick.

A/N: not proof read SORRY. i made it as angsty as possible. if u wanted a happy ending for this WHOOPS. this is what u get it 🤷‍♀️ enjooyyy!!!

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

they weren’t always like this.

once upon a time, it was easy. gentle. warm. she was the girl sitting cross-legged in the garage, watching him tighten bolts on his kart. the girl who brought him slushies after races and kissed the grease off his cheek. the girl who stayed up late to quiz him on school stuff he’d missed because of training, who snuck out just to lie under the stars with him and listen to him dream.

he used to say things like “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

now he barely looked her in the eye.

everything had changed. slowly at first. one shift at a time, so quiet she almost didn’t notice. the silence between texts getting longer. the way his smile felt more like a photo than a feeling. the way she had to ask to see him, like she was some fan trying to schedule in a moment.

but it all built up. and now it was spilling over.

“you’ve been so fucking distant, oscar,” she snapped, standing in the middle of his too-clean apartment, her voice already shaking. “i don’t even recognize you anymore.”

he barely glanced up from where he stood near the kitchen island, arms crossed. “maybe that’s because you only liked me when i was failing.”

she blinked. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” he said, sharper now, “that maybe you just liked feeling needed. liked being the one who got to play the part of ‘the supportive girlfriend.’ maybe it made you feel important.”

her heart cracked right down the middle.

“don’t fucking do that,” she said, her voice cracking. “don’t act like i was never there for the real you. i’ve only ever wanted you to win.”

he scoffed. “funny. doesn’t feel like that lately. feels like all you do is complain.”

she took a step back, hands curling into fists. “i complain because you treat me like a stranger, oscar. because i wait days for a reply. because you forget our calls and cancel our plans and talk to me like i’m a fucking burden.”

he didn’t answer. just looked away.

“say something,” she begged.

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he muttered.

“i want you to admit you’ve changed. that this has changed. that you don’t even try anymore.”

his jaw clenched. “you think this is easy for me? you think i’m just out here living the dream with no stress?”

“no,” she said quietly. “i think you’re out here forgetting who you were before it all. forgetting who stood by you when nobody else even knew your fucking name.”

and then he said it.

the words she’d never thought would come from his mouth.

“maybe you’re just here because of who i am now.”

the silence after was suffocating.

her chest felt like it had caved in.

“what?” she whispered.

he didn’t repeat it. but he didn’t take it back either.

“are you fucking serious?” her voice rose, cracked, broke. “you think i’m some gold-digging fame-chaser? me?”

“i don’t—”

“no. fuck you. don’t you dare backpedal now. don’t you dare twist everything we’ve ever had into that.”

she was crying now. cheeks flushed, hands trembling. “you really think i’ve stayed through all the lonely nights, the stress, the distance, the fucking silence, because i wanted money or attention? i’ve been in love with you since you were that nervous fifteen-year-old with calloused hands and a stupid crooked smile who thought he wasn’t good enough.”

he looked frozen. guilty. but still didn’t move.

“you don’t get to rewrite history like that,” she said, her voice quiet again. dead even. “you don’t get to make me the villain just because it’s easier than admitting you fucked up.”

she grabbed her bag, wiping at her cheeks as she moved toward the door.

“you don’t even see it, do you?” she whispered. “you’ve been gone for a long time, oscar. this version of you… i don’t love him. i don’t know him.”

she turned the doorknob.

“wait,” he said finally, voice small.

she paused.

“i didn’t mean it.”

she closed her eyes. “yeah, you did.”

then she left.

he didn’t follow.

he just stood there, surrounded by everything he thought he wanted.

and none of it felt like home.

THE END :>

[inkyrainstorms]

The Martian Stan AU - The Apology - Excerpt

Ford was working as he always was nowadays, half listening to the radio behind him and trying to stop his heart from jumping in his throat every time that Stan stopped speaking for more than 10 minutes and nothing but static filled the room again. Ford wasn’t sure what exactly his brother was talking about anymore, as he welded a set of support bolts into place, but he nearly dropped the welding gun on his foot when Stan suddenly spoke after a long stretch of silence.

“Ford?”

Ford fumbled for a moment before shoving a stack of loose paper aside and  setting the welding gun down on the table beside him. He put his hands on either side of the radio on the same cluttered table and took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

“Yes, Stanley?” He asked softly.

Stan, of course, didn’t hear him, but had paused as if waiting for a response before continuing anyway.

“I know, I know damn well you’re probably never gonna hear this, but I need to say it anyway before… Well. I don’t need to eat as often and shit and I know you’d love to figure out why but… I’m not sure how long I’m gonna last out here either way.”

Ford didn’t say anything, staring down at the wooden grain of the table like he could burn a hole clean through it with his thoughts alone. His palms ached from where he’d dug in his fingernails, and his shoulders mangled to hunch even further.

Stan laughed. It was a bitter, ugly sound.

“Ah, damnit. This isn’t about me. Can’t even do this right, you idiot” His brother took a deep breath. “ But Ford… I think I need to apologize.”

Some old, fossilized hurt in Ford’s heart snarked ‘you think?’, but Ford nearly gagged as he suffocated the thought before it could take root anew. He felt sick.

Oblivious to Ford’s turmoil —and of course he was, because he didn’t know Ford was right here, that Ford wasn’t going to let one of the last things he ever said to Stan be that he thought Stan was worthless— Stan continued.

“I don’t think I ever got to, back when… you know. What I said that night is a bit of a blur to me to be honest, but I know I was spouting nonsense and saying all the wrong shit and… Moses, Ford. I know it’s too late now but I’m sorry. I really am.”

Something in Ford simultaneously healed and broke in his chest at Stan’s words, but he didn’t get the chance to process it because Stan wasn’t quite done yet.

“And I need you to know it wasn’t on purpose. I’d never do that to you. Never. Why would I ever want to hurt you like that, poindexter? I just… I was scared and I didn’t want to be alone in Glass Shard Beach scraping barnacles off the Taffy shop for the rest of my miserable life and I wasn’t. Thinking.” Stanley’s voice had been rising in a steady crescendo, but suddenly got so quiet that Ford had to strain to catch the words in the buzzing static. “I’d… I shouldn’t have gone into the gym. I shouldn’t have even gone near your friggin project. I didn’t go there to break it, I would never—“ his voice broke. “I thought you knew that. I’m your brother, you dingbat, why would I ever want to hurt you?When did I ever not support you, man?”

“Then why did you do it?” Ford whispered back, just as quiet. That old anger he’d tried to push down rose up again, simmering. Stan knew he’d poured months of his life into the perpetual motion machine, that he’s shed more than a few tears and more than a little blood and sweat over it. And then he’d thrown it all away?

“I’d only hit the table, ya know. Didn’t think the grate’d pop off or anything like that. I tried to fix it. I know I should’ve told you, I know and I’m sorry, just…” I was scared, goes unspoken. Ford’s legs were shaking, and he tried to steadily himself by leaning further on the table. “I know I should’ve told you. I know. I messed up fuckin’ good, Sixer.” Ford flinched.

“I’m. I know you’re never gonna get the apology you deserve cause I was too much of a coward to actually call you and say something.” Stan’s voice was shaking. And I’m sorry for that too. And I’m sorry for not listening to you about your stupid book, and I’m sorry— ugh. We’ll be here all day trying to name my fuckups. That’s the last sorry you’ll ever hear from me you nerdy, uh, nerd.”

Stan sighed loud enough for the radio to crackle and screech. “Good going, Stan,” he muttered, his voice getting quieter as he evidently walked away, done.

And all that was left was static.

Ford pushed himself away from the table and sank into the rolling chair nearby, putting his face in his hands and trying to breathe as the chair was pushed back several feet from his momentum.

“He’s lying,” Ford tried to say, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. “He’s trying to make it so… so.” He faltered. “He’s obviously trying to deceive me.”

Trust no one.

But he had trusted Stan. And Stan got hurled into a Dimension of Nightmares for it.

Stan has no reason to lie, Fords mind whispered, because it was always against him no matter what stance he took. He doesn’t think you’re coming to save him. Why wouldn’t he try to explain the worst mistake of his life in a fit of guilt and complete loss of hope?

“Shut up,” Ford said intelligently, and he didn’t dare pry his face away from his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets and pushing up his glasses to his hairline

Stan had no reason to lie.

Stan came to help him at the drop of a hat after ten years of being too afraid to even call him. 

Stan… Stan didn’t mean to break his project. It was a stupid accident, done by a stupid teenager too afraid to admit his own failings. Stan didn’t betray Ford. Not like he thought his twin had, for all these years.

Ford was wrong. About everything. He was wrong about Stan and Bill and Fiddleford and, Moses, had he ever done anything right in his entire, miserable life? Ford didn’t know. 

The empty bunk bed beneath his own  for those last few fateful months before Backupsmore, the tears and screaming at a boat that never even left the shore, the years of resentment and refusing to believe he missed his own twin, what was it all for? Because Ford suddenly felt the sharp sting of grief all over again, throbbing with a ferocity he’d refused to acknowledge for the past few weeks. Years. 

It was like he was 17 years old again, mourning for all the wrong reasons and all the right ones too. For his brother. For his chance to become someone worthy of recognition, of love. For pushing away the ones who’d already loved him.

For the first time since the day Stan fell into the portal all those weeks ago, Ford pulled his knees up to his chest on the seat and, in the safety of his own arms, he wept.

The static crackled on, steady and unchanging. Unforgiving.

———————

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face @littlelilliana15 (if anyone else wants to be tagged pls let me know! I’m going to probably be posting more for this au sometime this week)

I have ideas for a mini comic and a whole animatic using Space Oddity so I’ll just have to see how far I get, really