#i encourage you to read more of his work for sure!!! if u ever have the time n feel up to it!

[inkykeiji]

I SAW YOUR SHAKESPEARE FANFIC POST AND CLARI I WOULD DIE TO BE ABLE TO READ ONE OF THOSE!!! i havent read it since hs unfortunately 😔💔 but i loved it sm back then and have a lot of his plays and have been meaning to read them. Its also such a fun concept!! If you ever choose to write it i will be #1 SUPPORTER 😤

omg no way!!!!! i never completed any of them sadly but maybe one day far far faaaaar in the future i’ll complete one!!! i’ve always wanted to write my own hamlet adaptation so why not!

AW hehehe anon <33 ur so adorable!!! thank you!! sending tons of love ur way sweetpea <3

[heehoonies]

under the table

description: you and sim jaeyun have been academic rivals for as long as you can remember, competing intensely to beat the other in every class you've ever shared. for years, you've hidden your feelings for him, burying them deep down where jake can't find them, and you're hellbent on ensuring he never discovers your secret.

word count: 22k

contents: academic rivals to academic rivals with benefits to lovers, lots of angst, slight crack at points, overuse of nicknames (angel, pretty, gorgeous, etc), jake is kinda mean in the beginning, heejayhoon are flirty frat boy menaces, reader works herself to exhaustion in one scene, jake is stupid with emotions, characters get drunk/drink a lot, lots of party scenes and wonyoung as your roommate/best friend bc she's the first idol i thought of

smut warnings below the cut

a/n: thank u to my lovely bff @seung-log for letting me bounce ideas off of you and for beta reading this fic and giving me encouragement the entire way! ilysm <3

now playing: under the table by banks

smut warnings: dom!jake, sub!reader, hard and soft dom jake, implications of sub!jake (my agenda y'all he had to be here somewhere), degradation (slut, whore, etc), praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), fingering, oral (m. and f. rec), handjob, titjob, multiple orgasms, squirting, hate fucking (kinda), cumming inside, cum swallowing, cum as lube (kinda), finger in ass (f. rec), orgasm delay, marking, biting, spit swallowing, dry humping, grinding, slight 'sir' kink, choking, slight size kink (big cock/tiny pussy), fucking with clothes on, overstimulation, crying, slight dacryphilia, clit pinching/slapping.

your eyes drag over your paper hurriedly, looking for the red ink splotched at the bottom of the page, skin tingling as blood rushes to your head.

95.

you flip your paper over, eyes darting to your side where a pair of big brown eyes are already staring back at you. jake raises an eyebrow at you, showing you the big fat 100 plastered on the top of his test sheet.

your nose scrunches as you attempt to not give any reaction to the fact that jake has beat you. once again.

“ha! knew it,” jake smirks, basking in his triumph.

“whatever, sim. you know physics is not my strongest subject.” you try to brush his statement off, but his gloating begins to get under your skin. you poke your tongue on the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to smack him as he continues to sit there, simply staring. “what is it?”

jake shrugs, “nothing much, y/l/n, just the usual. enjoying the fact that i beat you for yet another week in a row.”

he’s absolutely over exaggerating, knowing you just topped his score in english literature yesterday. “whatever,” you repeat, not wanting to him to sense your sulkiness. “stop staring.” you wave a hand in front of his face to get him to look away, to which he relents after a moment.

jake would stare in shock and awe if he ever found out how this rivalry actually drives your anger. losing to him is always frustrating, of course, but nothing is more soul crushing than the butterflies bouncing around in your stomach every time jake looks at you and the way you fail to will them away every single time.

“wasn’t staring,” he disagrees, turning to face back towards the whiteboard, his leg beginning to bounce from the excess excitement.

“sure you weren’t,” you respond dryly, utterly too exhausted to deal with his bickering today. not with that way that stupid button up with rolled sleeves fits snugly on his biceps, round silver rimmed glasses sitting lazily on his nose, strands of hair falling delicately across his face. to top it all off, he’s wearing a ring on his pointer finger, tapping it lightly against the edge of the desk. the sound is bothersome, but not as bothersome as how utterly attracted you are to the mere image of the metal around his long finger. long fingers that are attached to large hands that lead to buff, veiny arms and broad shoulders, the whole sight nearly making you drool.

he must know how absolutely attractive he is right now. he must.

“hey jake, you going to the party at heeseung’s frat tonight?” jungwon calls from the seat behind him.

jake turns, nodding slightly, “jay and hoon are forcing me to go, i told them i already had plans but they wouldn’t listen,” you scoff, digging through your backpack for your laptop, knowing his plans were simply to study the entire weekend, plans that completely mirrored your own. he glances at you with an eyebrow raised in confusion before turning back to jungwon. “why?”

“the sorority girls are all coming,” jungwon cracks a smile, the smugness in his voice dripping with every word that tumbles out. he lowers his voice, leaning in as you still, trying to listen to jungwon’s hushed tone. “karina’s gonna be there, bro.”

you freeze, eyes glancing up as you pray you’ve heard wrong. yu karina of phi mu royalty? the most gorgeous girl on campus who also, unfortunately for your cynical brain who wants so desperately to hate the girl, happens to be the kindest person on earth? of course jake would be interested in her, just like half the student body is.

jake nods slightly, muttering a “thanks, jungwon,” before turning back towards the front. you busy yourself with logging into your laptop, willing your brain to think about anything other than jake and karina together.

god, this is going to be a long day.

luckily enough, friday is the day where you only see jake once during your courses. you head home to your on campus apartment after the day ends, tired of your racing thoughts and hoping to recover in the confines of your warm blanket, cozied up with a good book and a cup of tea before doing some nightly revision.

you are not allowed such a reprieve from the day.

“y/nieeee!” wonyoung greets you at the door, a bright smile gracing her face. “we’re going out tonight!”

you drop your bag on the sofa before plopping down next to it, sinking deep into the cushions. “no, wony, we’re not going to heeseung’s party.”

her smile drops, pretty lips curling into a small frown, “why? and how did you even know there’s a party at heeseung’s tonight?”

“doesn’t matter. we’re absolutely not going.”

she huffs, stomping her foot lightly. “come onnnn y/n! don’t you ever get tired of working yourself to the bone week after week? i think you need a break, even if just for the night.”

you sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands, trying to fend off the impending headache that started on your walk from your classroom. you relent to her, a small sigh escaping your lips before you mutter, “jake’s going to be there.”

“and? don’t you want him to see your sexy ass in something skimpy?”

your cheeks burn at the insinuation of sim jake having his eyes on you in any context other than a negative one. “no, plus karina is going to be there. heard jungwon mentioning her specifically to him in physics today. so i’d rather not go and see something that’ll hurt my spirit more.” you pause for a moment, “he already beat my score on our physics quiz this morning, and i haven’t stopped thinking about him and her together all day. so can we please stay home?”

wonyoung sighs deeply, sitting down next to you. “who cares if they’re going to be there? you’re y/l/n y/n, you deserve to have a life outside of academics and obsessing over jake. and if he does get with her? then fuck him!”

you can feel your resolve breaking, knowing you can never truly say no to wonyoung with her pleading eyes and tiny pout.

“oh my god, fine.” you relent, sighing deeply when she jumps off of the couch with a little squeal. “oh i’m so excited! let’s go to your room, i know exactly what you’re going to wear.”

and that’s how you ended up standing outside heeseung’s frat house, your comfy tennis shoes contrasting the skin tight strappy black dress with a plunging neckline that wonyoung forced you to wear. “i’m not breaking my fucking ankle just so you can have more fun playing dress up, wony. it’s the dress and these shoes or i’m taking my ass there in sweatpants and no bra.”

“come on, let’s get a drink,” wonyoung grabs your hand and pushes her way through the crowd of bodies, “we’re probably gonna need it.”

“welcome ladies! wonyoung, nice to see you again.” you are both greeted by park jay mixing drinks when you step into the precipice of the kitchen. he does a double take when his eyes register you in front of him. “and y/n, wow! you look drop dead gorgeous. i’ve never seen you at one of these parties before.”

your cheeks burn lightly as you opt to ignore his comment, knowing jay’s reputation with the student body for being a man who… definitely gets around. wonyoung lets go of your hand, beginning to browse the drink options laid out on the kitchen island in front of her. “yeah, wonyoung made me.” you respond, coming to stand on the opposite side of jay as you eye the shaker in his hands. “you playing bartender?” he nods slightly. “what’s the strongest thing you can make me?”

jay chuckles in response as he pours what he was mixing in the tumbler. “here, try this,” he hands you the cup. you take a reluctant sip, the liquid going down with a strong burn. you shake your head lightly in response to the strength before downing the entire cup in a few gulps, needing the liquid confidence desperately.

“a woman after my own heart,” he stares for a moment before handing you another drink, this one pre-prepared. “try this one. don’t down it all at once though, i won’t be able to satisfy you if you keep that up.”

you nod, taking a small sip before a warm feeling begins to settle in your belly. “this one is tastier.”

“figured you’d like it, a sweet drink for a sweet girl.”

wonyoung cocks an eyebrow at him before shaking her head lightly at the way his gaze is completely on you, the ogling he’s giving your curves going right over your head but catching her attention instead. “me next, bartender.” he nods, turning back to face the counter. “your regular?” she nods in response, walking around him to slide up against you.

“you have a regular?” you giggle at her. wonyoung nods lightly, the small smile never leaving her lips, “jay’s been playing bartender for me since we were still in high school.”

jay makes wonyoung her drink and hands it over and the two of you exit the kitchen, opting to walk outside for some fresh air and maybe a free spot on the lawn to sit down at. there are small clumps of people scattered around the impeccably green lawn. people sip from cups and bottles, a few from cans. there are fairy lights strewn across the underside of the covered porch, and you wonder which frat member’s girlfriend convinced them to put them there. the moon illuminates the darker parts of the lawn, some of them coated in artificial light from various tiki torches strewn about aimlessly, stuck into the group roughly.

“wonyoung!” lee heeseung’s booming voice carries across the lawn from where heeseung and sunghoon are playing beer pong. “come join!”

you approach the table, “y/n, is that you?” you nod, smiling. “hi, heeseung.”

“is this your first frat party?” you nod again and he cracks a smile in response. “how are you enjoying it?”

“we just got here, so i haven’t seen much.” heeseung nods, scooting over on his side of the ping pong table.

“be my partner, wonyoung go stand by hoon.” you find nothing inside of you that wants to argue, knowing that you and heeseung get along, as much as two people who don’t know each other all that well can get along.

you glance up at heeseung as you stand next to him, “i’ve never played, heeseung.” his smile grows wider at your admission. “well, it’s our turn, so let me show you.”

heeseung moves you to stand in front of him, pressing you between the edge of the table and his wide t-shirt covered chest. “so grab the ball,” he places it in your hand before covering it with his own, much larger one. “aim, and toss!” heeseung guides you to toss the ball, it lands in one of the cups with a satisfying plop and you smile, glancing up at him where he’s smiling back down at you.

across the lawn, unbeknownst to you, an irritated sim jaeyun is ignoring his conversation with karina, watching the way heeseung is crowding your space and holding your hand. he’s not mad, no, why the hell would he be mad? he hates you. he’s got the yu karina in front of him giving him bedroom eyes, yet all he can focus on is the way heeseung presses himself against your back. jake feels the strange anger brewing inside his gut, completely checked out of his conversation with karina.

karina is here, ripe for the taking, absolutely willing and eager to flirt with jake, but all he can manage to do is stare at you, willing you with his mind to glance over at him, to see him standing here with her. he can’t believe you’re standing so close to his best friend, basically inviting him to fuck you in front of everyone here with your innocent stare.

wonyoung takes the cup and downs it, “next time let her throw for herself, hee.” sunghoon accuses, “no cheating in beer pong, man.”

“y/n’s never played!” heeseung defends, never moving from where he’s got you trapped, his body feeling so close and his towering size intimidating you a bit. “had to teach her, it’s the least i can do.”

before he can register how his body is reacting, jake’s leaving karina without so much as a second glance as his legs carry him over to the table. “move over hoon,” jake commands from the other side of the table. heeseung meets jake’s eye, having a silent conversation that not even sunghoon is privy to. heeseung gives sunghoon a look and sunghoon relents, allowing jake to take his place before wandering off to see jay in the kitchen and maybe find out if riki is passed out somewhere. wonyoung catches your gaze, her eyes as confused as yours are at the sudden intrusion. “gonna school you, y/n, just like i did in physics this morning.”

you roll your eyes while heeseung feels your body tense in his hold. “it’s okay, we got this. jake sucks at beer pong.” he says lowly, smiling to reassure you. you nod your head in response.

jake does, in fact, suck at beer pong, a fact you become well aware of within his first few throws. usually jake is decent at beer pong! but heeseung has watched jake down multiple drinks this evening, and when jake gets drunk, his beer pong skills significantly drop off. jake swears under his breath with every miss, hatred brewing behind his gaze every time he sees the way heeseung keeps you held in place, the way the pair of you celebrate every successful toss with a small high five, heeseung’s hand dwarfing yours in size.

“you lose, jakey boy,” heeseung announces as you sink the last ball with a bit of guidance from him. jake downs the last cup before slamming it back down on the table, the flimsy plastic being crushed beneath his hand a bit. heeseung gives you a squeeze of the shoulders and one last high five, “don’t be a sore loser, man.” heeseung moves, finally letting you escape as you walk to meet wonyoung at the other end of the table. heeseung grabs jake by the scruff of his neck, guiding him to another part of the backyard.

“god, that was so weird.” wonyoung shakes her head, “why was jake so mad? and heeseung is being weird too…”

the words swim in your own brain. was jake mad that you were there at all? you’ve never been to one of heeseung’s parties before, so that could be it, he could feel like you’re intruding on his space. you’d feel the same way if he ever raided one of you and wonyoung’s girls’ nights; though wonyoung would argue that that is a completely different situation if she ever heard your battling thoughts. was it because heeseung was so close to you? did he think you were cheating at beer pong like sunghoon did? that’s just too many questions for your already intoxicated brain to handle. your heart swelled at the fleeting thought that maybe he was angry that heeseung was close to you for an entirely different reason, completely unrelated to the game or his urge to beat you in every aspect of your shared existence.

“i think it’s time for us to go home,” you interject her ramblings, the entire situation beginning to overwhelm you, “i’m feeling tired.”

wonyoung eyes you with a raised eyebrow and a slightly squeaky whine as the two of you walk inside, “we just got here! come dance with me at least for a little bit.”

across the lawn, heeseung is scolding jake. “why are you being a fucking asshole to y/n, bro? she’s just trying to have a good time.”

“me? being an asshole? that’s rich coming from you, you we’re basically fucking her against the table, heeseung!”

heeseung rolls his eyes, knowing he was being very tame in comparison to some of the compromising situations jake has seen him in before. and it’s not like you or heeseung felt that way about each other. “i knew you’d be mad at that. jake, open your fucking eyes. people who actually hate each other don’t feel that way you do about her.”

jake’s drunk mind refuses to relent to heeseung’s words, always needing to be right and knowing heeseung is dead wrong, “shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“i do, actually, and i know better than you do.” heeseung shakes his head, sighing, “you’re too stubborn for your own good, sim.”

“fuck off man,” jake shakes himself out of heeseung’s grasp, heading inside for god only knows what reason. just to get away from heeseung and from his confusing thoughts of you, he supposes, in his far too drunk mind.

wonyoung tugs you into the living room that’s been taken over as a dance floor, but you tear away from her before she can drag you into the sea of people, trying to avoid dancing entirely. “i’m going to find the bathroom,” wonyoung’s attention is grabbed by a mutual friend of yours and she stays to chat with them, watching you stumble into a nearby hallway out of the corner of her eye, following your figure until you disappear around a corner, worry bubbling in her gut.

someone stumbles into you, nearly knocking you onto your ass. “hey, watch where you’re g-”

your sentence is cut off by someone pressing you against the wall in the dark corner of the hall, your eyes rising to meet a pair of pretty brown ones, jake’s pupils wide from how buzzed he is right now. you can feel yourself tensing in his hold, both scared and turned on from the mere proximity of his body. the heat of his body overwhelms you as he places one hand on your waist, the other against the wall at the side of your head, trapping you in place beneath his towering frame. “get off of me, sim,” you push against his chest, his body not moving an inch. fuck him and his broad shoulders and his thick, toned arms.

“are you trying to piss me off or something?” jake seethes, and you can see the anger in his eyes and the way he grips your hip tightly, threatening to leave a bruise. “trying to fuck all my friends? just opening your legs for every one of them like a whore?”

“fuck off, jake!” you argue, anger bubbling as you watch his eyes scan across your face, trying to ignore the bubbling arousal building in your gut, overwhelmed by his voice, eyes, presence, all of him being so terrifyingly close to you. “if i wanted to fuck all your friends, i already would’ve!”

jake’s hand next to your head is suddenly gripping your chin, forcing your head to look up further and stare up at his face. he sucks at the inside of his cheek, trying to reel his anger back in. “listen here, princess. none of my friends would ever fuck you, so stop trying before you embarrass yourself. you’re pathetic,” he moves his hand from your chin to wrap around your throat lazily. you can’t help the way your panties stick to you, wetness growing at the sight of him degrading you, his big hand wrapped around your delicate neck. you can feel your brain slipping already. “you’re worthless, do you understand me?”

you nod dumbly, swallowing a bit of spit to keep yourself from drooling.

“good girl,” is all his drunk brain can tell you, voice gravelly and lower than you’ve ever heard. his vocal tone makes the feeling in the pit of your stomach reignite. “remember your place, doll.” you nod mindlessly again before he lets go of your throat, his hand at your waist shoving you away from him. “get out of here before i have to teach you a lesson.”

monday rolls around unceremoniously, and knowing you’ll have to see jake first thing this morning is making you consider skipping class entirely.

you shake your head, knowing that nobody, especially not a man, is worth jeopardizing your grades over. no matter how annoyingly attractive he is.

you plop down in your seat, ready for the lecture. jake saunters in, his usual smile plastered on his face before it drops at the mere sight of you. your heart sinks, knowing that even your academic rivalry has never produced that sort of reaction from him.

“so, you and heeseung, huh?”

jake sits down next to you, eyeing you inquisitively. “what? absolutely not!” you hiss, “why the hell would you think that, sim?”

“beer pong,” he mentions, in a tone that makes you feel like you’re stupid. “i don’t like heeseung and i know he doesn’t like me. be serious now, jake.” you scold him, desperately hoping he’ll drop this.

“didn’t seem like it to me,” is all he says before tugging his laptop out of his bag and watching as the professor walks in the classroom.

“whatever, sim,” you brush him off, and the rest of your sentence gets caught on your tongue. “not like i care what you think,” you wish you could say, despite knowing just how much of a lie it is.

“good morning everyone, i finally have your test from last week fully graded,” your history teacher greets everyone and begins winding up and down the aisles, handing back papers with various numbers scribbled on top of each.

she places your paper gently on your desk, a huge smile greeting your face once you see the large 100 sitting on top in deep red ink.

“don’t start gloating now, princess. i got the same. you're not special,” jake’s words kill your remaining semblance of a good mood, feeling like he’s being meaner than he usually is.

“jake it’s 8 am, stop being such an asshole so early in the morning.” you fight, shoving the paper in your bag unceremoniously, missing the small frown that flits across his features. his thoughts flick back to heeseung scolding him at the party, making the frown grow on his face. you nose scrunches at his actions not turning you on like they normally did, instead just making you angry at him.

he shouldn’t feel bad, he really shouldn’t, and he's tricked his brain into thinking he truly doesn't care. your relationship has always been like this. something about seeing you this weekend made jake extra angry, and you’re the one he needs to take it out on. and if he kills your mood to match his already bad one? then all the better for his ego, annoying you being one of his favorite past times.

he continues his nasty quips throughout the rest of class, ones you try your hardest to ignore but somehow they slip under your armor and make hits at your fragile heart every single time.

after spending your down time studying in the library, you reach your next course and sit next to jake in math, leg bouncing roughly at the anxiety brewing at the thought of losing to jake again.

“oh thank god,” you sigh in relief, a 99 with a large circle sitting at the top of your surprise quiz from last week. jake feels his face twitch as he glances over to find your test sporting a higher score. he never loses to you in math, and he can feel his anger boiling.

“lucky break, y/n,” he bites, not missing the way your eyes turn downcast silently instead of fighting him with a quick, competitive response. jake doesn’t know why the sight of you ignoring him and not even arguing back makes his heart twinge.

class after class for the rest of the week, you keep topping jake’s score, but you can’t bring it in yourself to care. you feel like his combative words are filled with real venom now, versus the usual merely competitive undertones that they carry. sure, you enjoy when he’s mean sometimes, but it feels like he’s somehow crossed an imaginary line between sexy and hateful. and your brain can only take so much negative rhetoric before you’re closing in on yourself, blurring the edges of your consciousness to prevent any more hurt from being cast upon your body and mind. you barely stumble your way through the week, struggling to even drag yourself to class every day, knowing you’ll be met with his usually soft brown eyes staring daggers into your side profile.

you’re so worn down from the emotional toll this week has taken on you that you don’t even care that wonyoung shoves you into another tiny dress and drags you to another party hosted by heeseung. you choose to keep your inner turmoil to yourself, and wonyoung relents, allowing you to have your secrets for now despite being able to sense that something is absolutely wrong.

“jay, give y/n what you gave her last weekend, she needs it.”

“welcome back, pretty girl,” jay greets you, “bad week?” you nod numbly, meeting his gaze with obviously tired eyes. “let jay help you.” he gives you a soft smile, beginning to whip up exactly what he gave you last weekend.

“thank you, jay,” jay notices the smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but he doesn’t take it personally. “anytime, pretty.”

wonyoung grabs the nearest bottle of whatever beer they’ve stocked up on for this so called rager and follows you as you wander aimlessly. she grips your elbow, leading you to an open seat on the sofa in the living room. the party is less packed than last weekend, with only a few people mingling around the house, the living room no longer being taken over by an impromptu dance floor.

“hi y/n, hey wonyoung,” jungwon greets the pair of you, dropping down into the cushion next to wonyoung. “what’s up? enjoying the party?”

you nod simply, nursing your cup gently as your eyes can’t focus on any one thing in the room, vision slightly fuzzy and never once regaining clarity as you let all thoughts leave your head.

“you with us, y/n?” wonyoung waves a hand in front of your face. unbeknownst to you, ten minutes had already passed and both wony and jungwon had watched you as you barely even moved, aside from the cup occasionally being pressed to your lips. “yeah, sorry.” you mumble out. wonyoung gives your shoulder a small squeeze before rising to her feet. “we’ll be right back, jungwon and i need a refill, okay?” you nod as her figure disappears into the house.

a large shadow casts above you, drawing your attention up to meet big brown eyes. “why are you here? here to gloat some more?”

a small sigh leaves your lips as you tear your gaze from him before downing your drink at once, eyes fluttering shut. you place the cup on the coffee table in front of you before looking back up at him, “i don’t have the energy to fight with you right now, jake. please just leave me alone.”

jake sits down next to you, hand resting on your knee as he whispers lowly for only you to hear, “so you’re trying to act like you didn’t just kick my ass all week? you’re not gonna say anything about that?”

you nod a little, unable to meet his gaze, “jake, i’m so tired, please. i don’t want to fight right now.”

seeing the vision of you, a usually fiery, independent, self assured woman, surrendering to his words so easily causes a twitch in jake’s pants, his jeans beginning to feel a little too snug all of a sudden. “is that so?” he teases, his anger from the week still present in the undertones of his speech. “so you don’t even have the energy to be a good rival and taunt me back?”

you shake your head, “jake, please,” you whine, and its music to his ears. he squeezes your knee lightly, invading your space some more. “please what, angel?”

your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, mouth going dry at the three little words he’s just whispered to you. you stare at him with doe eyes and a shut mouth. “what is it, you can tell me.” he tries to coax the admission out of you.

“just so tired…” you relent, limbs feeling heavy.

jake stands and pulls you to your feet, ignoring how heavy his cock feels behind his denim as he leads you upstairs, “come on, let’s go find somewhere you can lie down.” the sudden kindness he’s showing you would strike you as strange if you were in your right mind, but the fogginess taking over your brain hides how absolutely weird this would be on a normal day between you and jake.

jake tugs the door of heeseung’s room open, guiding you inside before shutting the door and locking it. “lie down.” his voice is gentle, coaxing you into submission and a sense of calm, feeling safer knowing you’re away from the crowd and are able to breathe a little better without a thin sheen of smoke filling your lungs and obscuring your vision.

you obey, crawling under the covers that he’s pulled back for you before he tucks you under the plush material. “you shouldn’t be here while you’re feeling like this,” jake scolds you. your eyes shut gently, already falling asleep with a heavy heart and heavier limbs. jake watches you with a protective gaze as you drift off into dreamland, a sigh leaving his lips knowing you might finally have time to just exist, versus your usual act of constantly pushing yourself to the limit and further.

“you can’t just let people crash in my room, jake!”

“it’s y/n, hee.” jake glances up at the taller man for a moment, “she… something was wrong, but i didn’t want to send her home by herself. wonyoung certainly wasn’t going to go with her.” he scoffs at your roommate’s inability to grasp how strange you were acting. heeseung’s eyebrows shoot up at this admission, nodding slightly. “is she okay now?” he questions.

“she’s still sleeping,” heeseung had caught jake sneaking out of his room trying to get you a glass of water for when you wake up, planning to run up and continue watching you as you slept. not in a creepy way, just in a i don’t want anybody to come in this room trying to fuck on heeseung’s bed while y/n is sleeping there kind of way, as well as a i need to make sure no one tries to take advantage of her kind of way. why he wanted to do all of this, why he was treating you this way at all was still a mystery to him. “didn’t want anyone coming in and waking her up or messing with her while she’s sleeping.”

heeseung scoffs a bit at his answer, “you still don’t get it, do you?”

jake watches him with a blank stare, “get what?” he shakes his head in response, muttering a quiet “nothing,” before peeking inside his room to check on you.

“she’s fine, heeseung.” jake argues, quietly yanking the door shut. “let her sleep.”

heeseung shakes his head, “just let her uber home with wonyoung,” he suggests, testing the waters further to prove his theory is rocksolid.

jake gives him a glare that could kill, “did you not fucking listen to a word i just said?”

bingo.

“i’m kidding, chill.”

jake lets the comment go as well as he can, “if you’re done saying stupid shit, can you go grab me some water for when she wakes up?” heeseung scoffs at his words, but returns shortly with a bottle of water, to which jake gives him a small thank you in return.

“just… try not to be an asshole when she wakes up, okay?”

you don’t know how you got home that night. wonyoung told you it was jungwon ordering the three of you an uber, opting to leave with you since he lives in your building with sunoo and riki as his roommates. the rest of the weekend passes unceremoniously, your color slowly coming back after an absolutely off week. as you slouch down into the chair next to his on monday morning, you can only hope jake doesn’t fuck up your good mood as fast as he did last week.

“had a fun weekend?” you can’t decipher the tone of his voice.

“it was fine, i guess.” you shrug in response. “i don’t remember most of it.” you admit, not even caring how absolutely embarrassing that sounds, especially coming from someone of your academic caliber and positive reputation.

jake’s face seems to drop at your admission, quickly shaking off the expression, “well, are you ready for another week of me kicking your ass?”

“we’ll see about that, sim.” you smirk lightly, feeling your spark in this rivalry returning a bit, along with your deeply imbedded feelings for the man beside you. jake seems to have let go of the intense hatred he was holding the previous week, a friendly feeling returning to your long standing rivalry. “don’t think i’m gonna go easy on you, now.”

jake smiles secretly, happy to see the pep back in your step, so to speak. he hated seeing you the way you were at the party, your eyes looking lifeless and staring into the void aimlessly before he laid you down for a well deserved nap.

“hmm, what’d you get?” you peer down at the paper your professor has just laid in front of you. “97. you?”

“98.”

jake groans loudly, “god, you can’t just let me win, can you?” a smile graces your lips, “nope, you’ll have to fight me for it, sim.”

“alright, you two,” jay teases the two of you and you turn to face him. “y/n, you’ll never guess what today is.” he smiles brightly.

“i’m not sure, what is it, jay?”

“it’s my birthday, and i’m throwing a party at the frat tonight.” you smile at his admission, “will i see you there?”

jake shakes his head, teasing, “no, she’s probably gotta stud-”

“sure,” you interrupt jake, shooting him a glare before looking back at jay, “i’ll be there, jay.” you offer him a small smile, one which he mirrors while jake looks between the two of you with a scowl.

oh, you’re gonna get it.

you arrive at jay’s party, opting for a more casual pleated skirt and t-shirt since jay told you it was casual wear and he wanted a chill vibe, just some close friends. you’re assuming he invited you because of wonyoung, who had to opt out of tonight’s festivities since the poor girl caught a nasty case of the flu over the weekend. you heated up some canned soup for her and made tea before leaving for the night, telling her to text you immediately if she starts to feel worse.

“hi, gorgeous,” heeseung smiles at you, greeting you warmly and placing a drink in your hands.

“hi, heeseung,” you return his smile, watching him over the rim of your solo cup as you take a sip. “damn, this is nasty. what the hell is this?”

he shrugs lightly, “beats me. jay’s mingling instead of making drinks, so sunghoon’s doing the best that he can, i guess.” you nod before bravely taking another sip of the gross concoction.

“where’s the birthday boy?”

“ask and he shall appear,” jay smiles, coming to stand next to heeseung, “hi, angel, glad you could make it.” you smile at the two men towering over you. “thanks for inviting me, and wony sends her apologies. she got sick over the weekend.”

“that’s alright, hope she feels better.” heeseung says before the two of them begin whisking you off into another part of the house. heeseung separates from you and jay to greet a few people, jay’s hand on your waist to guide you without you getting lost. “i heard hoon’s making drinks? this is nasty, jay, have you taught him nothing?” you tease, glancing behind you at a loud noise sounds behind you. after finding nothing, you begin to turn back to jay before your eyes find jake standing with karina. the sight makes your blood boil, but you nearly shiver after finding him already staring over at you and jay out of the side of his eye. you shake off his dark stare, returning to your conversation with jay, not noticing the way his hand hasn’t left your waist despite the two of you no longer moving through the house.

“i’ll be right back,” jake tells karina, no longer focused on their conversation. karina scoffs lightly, knowing this is the second time in two weeks that jake has left her high and dry while she’s been trying to talk to him.

“jay,” jake greets his best friend, earning him a look of confusion from the birthday boy, “y/n, can i talk to you?” you glance at jay with a confused look, the man in front of you mirroring the same expression back at you.

“i– sure, jake.” you relent, setting down your already empty cup on a random surface before he’s tugging your arm, not caring about the searing grip he has on your wrist.

“didn’t i warn you to not fuck my friends?” jake’s hushed voice meets your ears, a frown pulling onto your lips at the question. you don’t remember talking about being attracted to any of his friends at all, let alone with jake himself.

“what are you talking about, sim?” you question, growing irritated at the implication that he probably thinks you’re easy.

“god, you’re so stupid sometimes,” he growls, pressing you against a bedroom door in the empty hallway. “you don’t even see them all eye fucking you? don’t be naive, y/n.”

you shake your head, convinced he’s fucking with you. “jake, your friends aren’t eye fucking me it’s called being friends with the opposite sex, you should try it instead of being an asshole all the time!”

jake yanks the handle near your hip, tugging the door open and shoving both of you inside before locking it behind him. “you drive me up the fucking wall, you know that?”

“the feeling is mutual, sim,” you deadpan. “are you done yelling at me? i’m ready to leave this fucking room and get far away from you. i’m trying to enjoy myself tonight, jake, i don’t need you fucking with my mood again.”

the dam in his mind breaks, and suddenly jake feels all his resolve slip away. he pushes you up against the closed door and squishes you against it. “god, you’re so fucking annoying, you know that? always know how to push my fucking buttons.”

the proximity has you holding your breath, waiting for his next searing words to tumble out of those plush lips.

“stop staring at my lips,” he demands, taking both of your wrists in one grip of his hand and holding them above your head. “you gonna keep making me mad?”

“stop fucking with me, jake, let me leave.” you know your words hold no weight in either of your minds, your body betraying you as your arousal is evident in the way your legs squeeze together.

jake shakes his head, “you need to shut up and take what i give you, since you’re so ready to be a slut for all my friends.” he grips your chin and squishes your cheeks with his other hand. “you gonna behave for me? or are you gonna be a brat?”

you finally relent, letting go of your argumentative front that you’ve put up around him for years as his grip on your cheeks loosens. you relish in the feeling of allowing him to take control, of jake offering you a moment to just exist without any expectations or responsibilities, to let him take care of you completely, “‘m gonna be good for you, jake.” you watch him with big eyes, his stare unrelenting as he watches you for any sort of discomfort.

“you sure you can take it, angel? i’m not gonna be nice.” you nod briefly, trying to use your hand before he grips tighter, “what is it, pretty? you can still back out now.” he tells you, giving you full control of the situation for a moment.

he watches a look flash across your face before you look downwards, embarrassed at the thought of what you’re about to ask. jake tugs your face to look back at up at him roughly, “want you to choke me,” you mumble. he grins wildly at your admission, hand on your chin snaking down to rest at the base of your neck. “like that, baby?” you nod slightly, pressing your legs further together under his intense stare. “tell jake what else you need.”

you take advantage of his momentary kindness to lean forward and capture his plump lips in a kiss, dirty and messy and utterly desperate. desperate for his touch, however you can get it. jake returns the favor, slotting his lips against yours, feeling every crevice of your gorgeous lips under his own. he fights back a moan, knowing he needs to maintain dominance over the situation. he squeezes tighter on your neck and you let out a small moan, allowing him to press his tongue into your mouth. you nearly gasp at the intrusion, relishing in the feeling of him nearly eating you from the inside out.

jake pulls away to stare back at your face, your expression already portraying how utterly fucked out you are just from a few touches. “can’t just take what you’re given, can you? greedy girl.” his tone is laced with warning.

“i can take it,” you argue lightly and he chuckles before moving you from the door to the bed, making you lie down on the mattress in front of him. “promise.”

“i believe you.” jake admits, sinking down to his knees and flipping your skirt up before pressing his nose against your clothed core. “bet you taste delicious, angel,” he stays there for a moment, licking against the fabric of your panties before pulling away. jake stands back up and unbuckles his belt, “another time, baby. need to fuck the attitude right out of you. always getting on my nerves.”

you watch as jake drops his pants and boxes just below his knees, revealing a thick, veiny cock with a blushing red tip. your cheeks go redder at the sight of him, already afraid of the stretch, “you’re so big.” the words tumble out of you without realization, your cheeks burning at the sudden admission.

“i told you i’m the best, baby,” he taunts you, “don’t worry, i’ll make you take it all like the cock slut we both know you are.” jake rips your panties, pulling a gasp from your chest as he holds the tip against your wet folds, the sight hidden from you by your skirt, “god, this turns you on, doesn’t it? when i call you a pretty little whore?” he feels your walls tighten slightly around his tip at his words and smirk casts over jake’s lips. “so all this time, my little angel has been getting wet every time we talk? dirty girl.” you shake your head, trying to hide your embarrassed face as your cheeks heat up. “don’t lie baby, i can feel you clenching around me.”

all the air is knocked out of your lungs when jake buries his huge length all the way inside, your hands going up to grab his biceps for something to hang onto as he begins ravaging you with a brutal pace, “see what you do to me? you make me so fucking angry, i can’t help but take it all out on you.” he feels your walls flutter around him as his thick cock drags against you, feeling every ridge of your pussy as his tip bruises your cervix with repeated precision. “god, you’re taking me so well, tiny little pussy was made to be destroyed by my big cock, wasn’t it?”

you nod dumbly, feeling cock drunk already, feeling yourself slip further away from reality with every drag of his veiny dick passing through you. jake fucks you into the mattress like he’s trying to split your entire body in half. you can’t get enough as jake moves your arms for a moment to tear your shirt off your body hastily, both hands reaching around and unclasping your bra before discarding both items somewhere in this random bedroom. he watches your tits bounce with each deep thrust, “god look at your tits baby, fuck– i could just eat you alive right now.”

“please,” you whine, not knowing what you’re whining for. “please what, my pretty little slut?” you don’t answer him, moaning loudly as he takes both your tits in his grasp, a hand holding each in a grip that’ll surely leave a mark.

“that’s what i thought,” he quips as he continues to plow into you, his head starting to spin from the feeling of your walls sucking him in with every thrust, never fully accommodating his size, “fuck, just take it all like a good cock slut, you were made to take me.”

his squeezing of one of your tits halts, moving down to pinch your swollen clit harshly, smiling wickedly at the groan of pain and pleasure that escapes your mouth. “too much?” you nod roughly, pleading eyes meeting his dark gaze, “too fucking bad.”

jake begins alternating between pinching and slapping your clit, relishing at the slight squeeze each action grants him, feeling himself tumbling to the edge already. “don’t you dare fucking cum,” he warns as he grabs your hips, shoving you up and down on his length like a fuckdoll, and you take it, sitting pretty with gasps leaving your parted lips as he chases his own pleasure. “fuuuuuck,” jake stills, cumming deep inside you, holding your hips flush to his body until he’s milked his own cock dry. you can feel your body on the edge of an orgasm as you wait for jake to finish you off now that he’s cum inside you.

he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your gaping hole, “god, you still make me so fucking mad,” jake shoves his length back inside roughly, stuffing his cum back into you, “can’t wait to watch you come undone beneath me.” he moans, rubbing rough circles against your clit. you throw your head back, moaning his name loudly.

“that’s it, pretty baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel this good,” jake leans in and bites the skin on your neck, sucking and licking at the spot to soothe it after. he places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss there before leaning up and prying your lips apart, mouth opening obediently. your eyes open in shock, watching him hover above you before he spits in your mouth, then sliding his hand down to rest at the base of your neck, squeezing lightly. “swallow it.” you follow his instructions promptly, a moan escaping your lips after feeling it slide down your throat paired with the pressure he’s applying.

“cum all over my cock, angel,” jake growls in your ear, the grit in his voice causing your dam to break, the rubber band in your stomach snapping before your eyes roll back, colors passing through your vision and limbs feeling numb and tingly as jake fucks you through your orgasm.

“jake, stop–” you attempt to push him off, your actions doing nothing to halt his movements, feeling overstimulated as your orgasm finishes washing over your body. “jake–”

jake leans in, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss to distract you as he slowly slips out of you, taking his fingers and shoving the cum mixture back into your leaking hole. he pulls away, glancing down at the sight of both of your fluids leaking out of you, groaning at the sight, “fuck, you’re perfect,” his head feels dizzy as he catches your lips again, biting softly against your bottom lip before pulling away again. “let me clean you up,” jake presses a final kiss against your lips, resisting the urge to slip his tongue down your throat as far as it can reach.

he returns shortly with a wet cloth from the en suite bathroom, manhandling you to sit further up against the pillows before wiping you down, getting the cum out of your gaping hole. he returns to the bathroom, wiping himself off before tugging his jeans back onto his hips and tossing the washcloth in the trash. whatever frat brother this room belongs to certainly won’t be missing that…

you stare up at the ceiling, panting and wiping the sweat from your forehead. “fuck.”

“fuck what? fuck you? i just did,” he argues, grabbing your torn panties from wherever they landed in the room and pocketing them discreetly.

“shut up, sim,” you cover your eyes with your arm, refusing to look at him.

“hey, look at me,” jake pries your arm off and your eyes open slowly, the sight of him with his post sex glow knocking the wind out of you. “you okay?” his question is sincere, his gaze on you doubly so. you nod lightly, a small smile taking over your features, “good.”

“can’t believe you ripped my panties…” you grumble, sitting up slightly to look for your shirt and bra. jake’s hands grip your tits absentmindedly, “i’m not a fucking stressball, jake!” jake just laughs, pinching one of your nipples in retaliation, watching the nearly silent moan that leaves your perfect pink lips. “fuck, don’t do that again unless you want another round.”

he perks up at the words, “you really mean that?”

“i–”

a loud pounding on the door startles both of you, “open the fuck up!”

you scramble to grab your bra and shirt, shoving them back on as jake wills his slowly rising dick to lower once more. he glances at you and you nod at him. jake unlocks the door and swings it open, meeting the eyes of a very tall, very angry man.

“get the fuck out, both of you,” he booms and the two of you scurry out quickly, a small giggle escaping your lips at the sight of his bright red, angry face.

“he was gonna kick your ass, jake…” you tell him as the two of you rush down the hallway, unknowingly in the opposite direction of the living room.

“would’ve been worth it,” jake smirks, stopping and gripping your hips lightly, the intimacy of his thumbs rubbing on your bare skin making your head spin, “your pussy is heaven.”

you smile, small and subtle, eyes wide, “not mad at me anymore?”

he shakes his lightly, “could never really be mad at you.” jake offers you a coy smile.

“doesn’t seem like it,” you argue, smile slipping from your features the tiniest bit. “well… every time you make me mad i can just fuck you like that again. is that what you want, pretty girl?”

your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, “is that what you want, jake?” he nods slightly, “i’ll fuck you whenever and where ever you want if you’ll let me, baby. no strings attached.”

your heart drops at those three little words leaving his lips, hope of jake reciprocating your feeling sinking deeper into the abyss that clouds your mind most days. his offer is a glimmer of hope, your brain reeling to feel him like that again, even if he’s ‘fucking the attitude’ out of you over and over. you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” you half-lie, continuing to shield your true feelings from him.

“just promise not to fuck any of my friends… you’re mine now.” you nod, heart fluttering at the implication of being jake’s, and the sudden possessiveness he’s now displaying.

jake’s grin grows, pulling you in by your hips for a frantic kiss, pushing his tongue past the expanse of your lips, exploring your mouth with need. you sink into his hold, stomach fluttering at the feeling of one of his hands reaching your ass, squeezing it in his large palm. you groan against his plush lips, allowing him to slip his tongue further down your throat.

“oh my god–” a shrill voice screeching from behind you has you pulling away from jake, seeing sunoo standing there, his hand now covering his eyes, “i’m so sorry, i– jay just told me to round everyone up for cake.” he apologizes and promptly rushes back to the living room.

“don’t worry,” jake whispers, “i can make sure sunoo doesn’t tell a soul, say the word and it’ll be our little secret, angel.”

you nod slightly, staring up at him with wide eyes, “thank you, jake.”

“anything you need and i’ll make it happen,” he promises, giving your ass one last squeeze and a small smack before guiding you forward, “go join the party, i’ll be there in a minute.”

“where have you been, dude?” heeseung questions jake after the cake is cut and shared, prompting the shorter man to shake his head. “nowhere important.” he can see the hidden smile on jake’s face as heeseung watches him, smirking knowingly as he catches your eye in the crowd where you’re talking to riki and waves you over. you excuse yourself and approach the two of them, trying to hide the blush in your cheeks when you glance at jake.

“hi, y/n,” heeseung smiles, “wish you were here earlier, i kicked the birthday boy’s ass in beer pong. it was quite the show.”

you return his smile, “sorry i missed it,” you apologize sincerely, looking down at your plate as you break off another piece of cake to eat. heeseung glances at jake, the smirk still covering his lips. heeseung takes in the way the tips of jake’s ears are turning red as he watches you place a piece of cake in your mouth. “nowhere important, right?” his low tone misses your ears as you munch happily on the vanilla treat.

shit.

jake smacks the back of his head, shooting daggers at his best friend as he whispers, “shut up.”

heeseung leans over to speak into jake’s ear, “just don’t break her heart, jakey boy.”

things are normal between you and jake during the classes you share, for the most part. you can’t stop staring, watching jake and zoning out as your professors drone on about whatever topic you’re covering during the period. you watch his eyes, beautiful and brown, as they stare forward, glancing to meet your gaze every once in a while. you watch his lips, perfectly plump and pink, which tug into a smirk every time jake catches you staring, biting down on his bottom lip at the sight of you watching him.

you take in the overwhelming presence of him, your nerves running in overdrive since the night before, knowing how absolutely stuffed he makes you feel, how jake’s big hands burn where ever they touch, leaving you yearning to be constantly held by him and his soft palms. his hair urges to have a hand run through it, dark and falling across his face in a satisfying way, framing his forehead delicately.

everything about the man beside you overwhelms you, and you can’t seem to look away.

god, you’re fucked.

“what the hell is going on between you and jake?” jay questions as you approach him, nearly falling into him as you try to walk around despite the slight buzz filling your bloodstream.

“jongseong, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, grabbing a seltzer from the fridge and cracking it open, not hesitating to take a few gulps before returning your gaze to him. his eyebrow is quirked up when you look at him again, “you’ve never called me by my government name,” jay challenges, smirking with a knowing look.

“shut up,” you move to cover his mouth, to which he swats your hand away easily, his tolerance much higher than yours. “no,” he argues grabbing your wrist as you try to smack him, “i wanna know.”

you narrow your eyes at him, an action he sees right through, knowing you’re not actually angry seeing the blush growing on your cheeks, “nothing is going on between me and jake.”

“no, there’s something there,” jay tells you, “are you two fucking?”

you nearly spit your sip of seltzer out, coughing for a moment as he hits your back lightly, concern washing over jay’s sharp features. “jesus christ, y/n, don’t die in the frat house, none of these idiots here would know how to help you.”

you shake your head, breathing returning to normal, “jay, we’re not fucking.”

“you’re lying,” jay cracks a knowing smile, laughing lightly, “anyone with eyeballs is able to see there’s something there.”

your resolve begins to crumble, the alcohol seeming to take over your brain more and more, “i– i don’t know what we’re doing…” you shake your head lightly, “we… we fucked on your birthday,” you relinquish. “i… i don’t know how he feels about me, jay.” you hear a noise escape your throat, one that sounds far too vulnerable, and you chase the sound with another swig from the can in your hand. “i try not to think about feelings that much, honestly, they’re so overwhelming.”

jay laughs, “yeah… me neither, don’t worry,” he clinks his solo cup against your can and you both take a sip, “who made the first move?”

“jay!” you shove him, “stop asking so many damn questions!”

“tell her not to shove me like that, jake,” jay says, watching you with satisfaction as your eyes go wide and you whip around to see jake approaching the two of you. 

“don’t hit jay, princess, he has weak skin,” jake tells you, to which jay retorts with “fuck you, sim, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

princess?

well that’s a new one… all of these new nicknames jake has given you since he fucked you have been driving your head crazy, less than platonic feelings swelling inside your tiny, drunk brain as you stare up at the man who grabs a water from the fridge.

“i’m on no one’s side here,” jake argues, twisting the cap off and taking a sip of water. you watch his throat suck the liquid down, adam’s apple bobbing. your body buzzes in response to the small action, stopping yourself from reaching out and running a finger, or your tongue, over the expanse of his throat.

jay tucks a finger under your chin, pushing upwards to make your jaw return to the rest of your face. you smack him on the chest, “don’t touch me, jongseong,” you warn, trying to ignore the fact that you were nearly drooling over jake right in front of him.

“you wanted him to see you drooling, then?” jay counters, voice low enough for jake to miss it.

“shut the hell up,” you ignore his words, eyes returning to jake who is watching you expectantly.

“i’ll be back,” jay exits the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit room among the various bottles of liquor lining the island and fridge.

“hi, gorgeous,” jake invades your space, pushing you backwards until your back is pressed against the edge of the cold granite countertop.

“jake!” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away, “are you trying to make sure people see us like this?!” jake wraps a hand around you, his palm splayed against your upper back, pressing you closer to him.

“maybe.”

you shake your head, watching his eyes darken as he watches you, “did you have fun talking to jay, baby?”

“jake, i’m not going to fuck him, so don’t even start getting mad,” you warn.

“i know pretty, i’m the only one who gets to see you like that, aren’t i?” your silence paired with flushed cheeks gives jake the answer he’s searching for, grinning in response. “good.”

“meet me in the bathroom at the end of the hall in two minutes,” he whispers into your ear before departing from the kitchen, the words making you squish your legs together. you wait with bated breath, watching as the clock on the microwave ticks to the next minute. fuck it, you mumble before setting your drink down and following him, knocking softly on the door before jake tugs you inside.

“hmm, eager, are we?” jake teases, locking the door and pulling you against him by your waist as he leans against the bathroom counter. “couldn’t wait any longer, could you?” you shake your head, words failing you as your face sits desperately close to his, desire swirling beneath your skin. “my obedient girl.”

“wanna suck your dick,” you beg, jake groaning and leaning his head back at your admission, “fuck, pretty, you can’t just say shit like that,” he pushes you down onto your knees, watching in awe as you instantly begin to fumble with his pants, tugging them down. you watch with wide eyes at the sight of his half hard dick sitting beneath his boxers, placing a kiss against the length through the fabric.

“don’t tease me, pretty girl,” jake warns, his tone conveying all the punishments you’d receive for disobeying him. “yes, sir,” you reply, the words going straight to jake’s cock as it hardens in your grasp. “say that again,” he groans, watching your tiny hand as you’re barely able to wrap all the way around his girth.

“say what again? sir?” you watch his cock twitch in your hand, the sight bringing a smirk to your face, kitten licking his tip before placing a delicate kiss on his slit. “you’re so big, sir, i don’t know if you’re gonna fit in my mouth…” you look up at him, blinking your eyes innocently.

you watch as his eyes darken at your actions, “i’ll make it fit, angel,” he presses on the back of your head, guiding you to take his length in your mouth. you slide down, his long cock pressing into the back of your throat harshly, the girth of it stretching your mouth out. “fuck, look at you– you were made to take my cock like this.” jake groans as he watches you suck him in, “my cock.” he reiterates and you nod around his length, continuing to bob up and down before jake takes control, fucking your face.

you begin to drool around his length as you let him use your mouth for his own pleasure, “fuck, baby, taking me so well– letting me fuck your throat like this, you’d let me do anything to this perfect body, wouldn’t you?” he doesn’t need a reply, already knowing the answer as he admires the way your lips stretch around his length, the sight stirring a feeling deep in his stomach. jake thinks you look gorgeous like this, gazing up at him with wide eyes and a hungry gaze, somehow taking his cock deeper every time.

his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly as jake fucks your face, chasing his high. you keep your mouth slacked, his girth and length making you feel completely stuffed, “look at these tits,” jake watches your tits bounce beneath your tank top, “fuck, you’re perfect,” jake groans as you reach down and squeeze his balls with one of your hands, the other gripping his thigh to keep yourself upright as you sit back on your haunches.

“i’m gonna cum down that gorgeous throat,” jake babbles, even his mindless near-orgasm ramblings sound like music to your ears. he yanks you back and forth along his length a few more times before shoving your face against his pelvic bone, nose smushing against the space right above the base of his dick. you groan at the feeling of his cum hitting the back of your throat, “take it all like the dirty slut you are,” jake commands, pulling away from your mouth slowly after his balls are empty, watching you with a lazy gaze. “swallow.” you follow his instructions promptly, gulping down before sticking your tongue out for him to examine, the sight nearly making him hard again. “good fucking girl,” he praises you, tugging you up off of your knees to meet your lips in a searing kiss.

you groan realizing jake is tasting himself on your lips, the fact not seeming to bother the man as he pushes his tongue into your mouth hungrily, large hands holding your face possessively. “mine,” he whispers against your lips, feeling as you nod in response. “thank you, baby.” he presses one last, gentle kiss against your waiting lips as he tucks himself back into his jeans. “let me make you feel good, too.”

you shake your head, resting both of your hands on his chest, a yawn rising from deep in your belly, “i’m okay, jakey,” you offer him a smile, “tired all of a sudden.” 

“come on, i’ll take you home.”

“i missed you,” wonyoung smiles as the two of you sit together in the library, “feels like that damn flu took me out for fifty years,” she exaggerates, giggling lightly as she sips on her coffee through a small blue straw.

“i know. you’ve missed… a lot.” you cover your face, embarrassment already heating your cheeks. “i… jake and i are sleeping together.”

wonyoung squeals and you glance around worryingly, watching as other students glare at the two of you. you smile in apology, turning to wonyoung and smacking her arm, to which she exclaims a small, “ow!”

“why are you hitting me? this is so exciting!” she whisper yells.

you shake your head, “i mean, yeah it’s exciting, kind of…” you sigh before meeting her gaze, “he doesn’t… it’s… he made it clear that this is a no strings attached kind of situation.”

wonyoung’s eyes go wide, “you’re lying!” you shake your head as her expression shows how much of a hard time she is having trying to process this information. “i– and you agreed to that?”

you nod, shame dusting your face and ears in a deep pink hue, “i just… i couldn’t say no, he had just finished fucking the brains out of my skull, and i think i’m just desperate to have him around in any way that i can… even if it means hurting myself in the process.”

“my poor y/nnie… he still doesn’t know you like him?” you shake your head, to which wonyoung sighs, “it’s been so long, why don’t you just tell him? what’s the worst that could happen?”

“you know exactly what could happen, wony. i could fuck up years of a friendly-ish relationship, and double fuck up the situation we have now. feelings just get in the way of everything.”

wonyoung places her hand atop yours on the table, rubbing the back of your hand in a soothing motion, “well, whatever you decide, it will all turn out okay. i promise. i don’t think jake would ever hurt you on purpose.”

you inhale deeply at the thought of jake caring about you on more than a surface level. “don’t say that, don’t get my hopes up… it’s just gonna hurt more when everything ends up exploding in my face.”

you don’t know how jake convinced you to go to the library with him, citing something about how you’ve been sucking in class these days and he needed to make sure you were studying so that he still had someone to compete against. which was a lie, you were doing just fine in class recently.

you’re absolutely trying to study, but feeling jake beside you makes it an impossible feat. your eyes skim over the digital textbook on your laptop in front of you as jake zones out at random areas of the room, every once in a while his eyes landing on you as he stares for a beat before allowing his eyes to wander around the room once more.

jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as the two of you sit side by side, tapping a pattern on his jeans as he struggles to focus. you eye him up with a confused stare, “what is it?”

jake pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, the sight sending heat straight to your core. “you don’t wanna know, baby.”

his response has a strange bout of confidence sprouting inside your tummy. your hand rises to meet him, rubbing and squeezing on his inner thigh, scarily close to his dick that’s getting harder by the second, “you don’t wanna do that, angel.” jake warns, watching you with a dark gaze. you can see the lust fluttering through his irises, dark and intoxicatingly addictive. you move up to his clothed bulge, giving him a feather light squeeze. jake bites back a groan, his head tipping back as his eyes flutter shut in an attempt to keep his composure. he leans over to whisper in your ear. you can feel his breath on your neck sending shivers up your spine.

“stop, or i’ll bend you over this table right now and fuck you in front of everyone here.”

you gasp in response, grinning as you watch him with a mischievous look in your eye, one that he’s come to quickly recognize since agreeing to your… special relationship.

jake pulls back, his stare darker than moments before and you feel yourself falling into his brown eyes, pupils wide and staring at you as lust dances across his irises. “last chance to back out, angel.”

you shake your head lightly before jake rises, packing both bags in a hurry, tugging you out of the library and heading to your apartment building. “your apartment better be empty, or else wonyoung might get a free show.”

“oh my god, jake,” you’re barely able to keep up with him as he drags you along with him, nearly stumbling over your own feet to keep up. you enter your lobby, leading him to your first floor room and unlocking the door hastily. the moment he’s inside the foyer of your apartment, jake is shoving you up against the door, his lips finding yours instantly. “trying to work me up in front of everyone, baby?” he purrs, one hand cupping your face gently while the other has a searing grip on your hips. every spot he touches burns, watching him with affection in your gaze. “too needy to wait until later, huh?”

you nod dumbly, covering the hand against your cheek with your own, nuzzling against it as you try to hide your growing shame at being so insatiable that you couldn’t even be in public with him for more than thirty minutes before jumping his bones.

“oh, my pretty girl’s all shy now that we’re home? what happened to that brat attitude from before?” jake kisses the back of his teeth before placing a closed mouth kiss on your pouty lips. you hide from his gaze, embarrassed at your bratty behavior from before. “‘m sorry, sir.”

jake nearly moans hearing you use the name he heard for the first time just days before in the bathroom when you sucked his soul out through his dick. he pulls you close in another passionate, messy kiss. “yeah? baby’s sorry?” you nod, watching him with wide, innocent eyes, not seeing the wheels turning in his head as he watches your tiny figure with glee.

jake walks you through the hallway, lips wandering and planting kisses on every bit of exposed skin on your upper half. you lead him to your door, twisting the handle quickly before stumbling inside. jake shuts the door with his foot as he backs you up onto your bed. “i think my baby deserves a punishment.”

jake presses further against your lips, his hands sliding up your frame to hold your tits gently, “could play with these all day,” he mumbles, kneading them in his large hands. you kiss him back slowly, feeling the tension from the past few days dissipate the further he pulls you in, losing yourself in the feeling of his soft lips dancing against yours.

jake smiles as he gives each breast one final squeeze before pulling your sweatshirt over your head, “had i known you were bare under here, baby…” jake sucks harshly on your nipple, your back arching up against his mouth, begging for more.

“you’re lucky i didn’t bend you over that table,” he bites at your breast, leaving a teeth mark on the side of the plump flesh. “everyone would learn fast who you belong to, wouldn’t they?”

you nod, moaning out as he continues his onslaught against your nipple, sucking and biting with fervor, his cock standing tall and proud in his sweatpants.

“you wore those on purpose,” you squeak out between loud moans.

“what? these?” jake motions to the gray sweatpants covering his strong legs, “didn’t know they’d affect you so much, would’ve worn them way sooner if i knew you’d pounce on me like the little slut you are.” he guides your hand to the crotch of his pants, allowing you to squeeze his length through the fabric of his sweats. more wetness gushes out of you at the feeling of the weight of his member, knowing all the damage he can do to you with it. “my little slut, isn’t that right?” you nod diligently, rubbing up and down on his length, trying to rile him up.

jake halts your actions, “naughty whore, can’t even be patient,” he scolds, leading your hand to dip under his waistband. you gasp at the feeling of him not wearing any boxers, allowing you to hold him in your hand, warmth spreading through your body as you jack him off lazily.

jake pulls his sweats down just below the base of his dick and it springs free, hard and ready for you. “fuck–” you groan, watching closely as your hand continues its diligent motions. “love your cock, sir.”

“i know you do, baby,” jake pets your hair gently, “such a good little cock slut, always ready to take me,” he dips his other hand beneath the waistband of your sweats, pushing his hands through your folds. “already this wet and i’ve barely even touched you.”

“just for you,” you groan as he dips one finger inside, pumping roughly, searching for that spongy spot inside of you. jake slips another finger inside, his movements quickening as he listens for the gorgeous noises he loves to hear spill from your lips.

“pull these down,” jake commands and you use your free hand to tug your pants and panties down and off your legs. jake can feel himself salivating at the sight of your gorgeous pussy, slipping a third finger inside next to the other two. he buries them knuckle deep before pulling out, repeating his actions over and over as he watches your facial expressions convey the pleasure he’s bringing you. “fuck, look at you, weak for me and i’m only using my fingers,” the commanding tone in his voice makes you shiver, eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze, dark and swimming with lust. “fuck, jake–” you groan as you feel his fingers begin to reach deeper, your pussy nearly swallowing his hand to the knuckles each time.

“look at how i’ve stretched this tiny pussy out,” jake chuckles, his voice rumbling with need as he glances down at his cock where you’ve halted your handjob, back arching off the bed. he removes his fingers promptly, causing you to whine loudly.

“sir, please–” you plead, eyes brimming with tears, “was so close! i’ll be a good girl!”

jake watches you with amusement, the sight of you whimpering beneath him forcing his brain into overdrive, “good girls do as they’re told. keep jacking me off and if you stop again i won’t let you cum.” you nod at his words, resuming your actions, groaning as you pay extra attention to his leaky red tip, squeezing harder every time you reach the top.

jake dips three fingers back inside you, watching as you squeak out and start panting as he hits a particular spongy spot inside of you. jackpot.

he assaults this spot, other hand snaking down to rub mercilessly at your clit. jake groans as your grip on him becomes tighter as you near your high, “gonna make a mess on my fingers like the good girl you are?”

you nod quickly, mouth hanging slack with your tongue lolling out as you squeak at every jab against your g-spot. “f– f– u– uck–” you scream out between thrusts, your pace on his dick speeding up as you approach the edge. 

with one particularly tight yank of his dick and a swipe over his tip, jake cums hard, liquid spurting out onto your chest and some on your gaping hole. he stills his actions for a moment before coating fingers on both of his hands with his seed. you feel his cum inside you, tears flowing at the onslaught of varying sensations on you at once. his other hand returns to your clit, his lips coming to suck on it as he rubs roughly, while still fucking you with his long, slender fingers.

“ahh!–” you scream out, back arching off the bed as the coil inside you threatens to snap, “fuck! jake–” a slap against your clit followed by a harsh suck of the hardened bud causes you to tumble past your precipice, all of your limbs stilling as jake never halts his actions. he pulls away from your clit to look down. the sight of you cumming, liquid spilling everywhere makes his cock jump, “fuuuuuck, baby,” he continues ramming his fingers inside of you with expert precision, “such a messy girl.”

his words bring a burning sensation to your cheeks, trying to scramble away from jake as he overstimulates you heavily, never ceasing his actions, “jake, please–”

“you’ve got one more in you, baby,” jake tells you, “let jake help you.”

jake removes his fingers before sliding home, his thick cock reaching impossibly deep inside you instantly, sucking him in with familiarity and a still present stretch from the sheer size of him. “fuck, your pussy is heaven sent, angel,” jake’s need overtakes him, jackhammering inside of you harshly, your body jerking with each thrust inside of your already abused hole. he snakes a hand around, holding your asscheeks apart with both hands, lightly tracing a finger around the rim of your asshole. “ahh!–” you gasp at the intrusion, “jake!–”

“this belongs to me, too,” jake tells you, slowly pushing the pad of his finger past your puckered ring, “jake!” you scream, eyes rolling back at the feeling of being double stuffed, even with just a bit of his finger breaching your ass.

“i knew you’d be a slut for anal,” jake whispers as his pounding continues, finger slowly pushing further in through your backdoor, “i’ll hit it from the back next time, how about that, my dirty girl?”

you shake your head, your body’s reaction saying the opposite as jake starts to pump his finger in and out of your tight hole in rhythm with the way his cock is pounding your pussy. “moremoremore!”

“yeah baby? more?” jake shoves his finger further, picking up speed in both holes, nearly cumming seeing the bruise already forming on your plush breast from the searing bite he gave it earlier, the imprint of his teeth visible even from a distance. jake uses his free hand to squeeze your throat tightly, “greedy little cock slut always needs more, can’t just take what she’s given.”

your vision starts to go white from the pressure on your windpipe combined with jake’s dick hitting your spongy spot and his finger pumping knuckle deep into your ass, knowing he’s the only one who’s ever been there. your eyes roll back into your head as you cum, the experience feeling different from any other time you’ve orgasmed.

“you trying to make me cum right now? squirting on me like that, baby?” more liquid continues to gush out of your hole, the wetness on jake’s dick making him groan loudly. he pulls his finger from your ass when the liquid is done streaming from your weeping cunt, smacking your ass harshly and groping at your cheek. “next time, i’m fucking this ass.” he gives you another rough smack, this time on the opposite side, before pulling out of you. “right now? i’m gonna fuck these tits.” jake crawls up your body sliding his dick between your plush mounds of flesh, squeezing them tight around his length. “look at you, letting me use this fucking perfect body however i need,” jake groans, pinching your nipple with one of his hands as he pumps in and out, eyes trained on the way your tits nearly completely cover his length. he chases his high, knowing you’re not anticipating his next actions, your eyes fighting to stay open as he uses you as he pleases.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” jake whispers, teetering on the edge of cumming before he slides away from your tits, shoving his length back into your gaping pussy. a few pumps is all it takes before he’s spilling inside of you, cum hitting your walls in long spurts and filling your pussy, dripping out of you and landing on the sheets beneath you. jake fucks you through his orgasm, pushing two fingers into your mouth before rubbing your abused clit with precision.

“no!– no more, jake!–” you try to push him away, overstimulation tingling around your body after two mind blowing orgasms have already rendered you utterly exhausted.

“your body’s telling me otherwise,” jake smirks, feeling your pussy tighten around him with every pump of his cock and flick of your hardened nub, “gonna give you one more, angel. you can do it.”

you argue against him, the little whimpers leaving your mouth betraying your actions. you scream loudly as the wave of pleasure washes over you, and still jake fucks you through it, his movements never ceasing. you still as it wrecks through you, orgasm finally subsiding as jake pulls out of you slowly, hands running up the sides of your body gently, holding you like you’ll break if he presses too hard. he traces the curves of your body with admiration, wondering how he got so fucking lucky to have you beneath him.

“look at my pretty girl.” he smiles as he watches you return to the land of the living, your mind spinning after three orgasms. jake leans over your body, placing gentle kisses all over your face and neck, littering your body with affection. “did so good for me, angel. such a good girl.” you smile as his words register in your ears, the ringing in them finally leaving as your body returns to its natural state of relaxation.

“no more, please,” you beg.

jake nods, offering you a smile, one that neither of you realize has hidden feelings brewing behind it. “no more, promise. my baby did so good.” he stands on the side of the bed, picking you up and leading you to the bathroom. jake sits you on the counter and starts running water, testing the temperature for you before corking the tub and watching it fill with perfectly hot water.

“mmm– jakey,” you mumble.

he turns to you, standing between your legs, rubbing circles on your kneecaps as he watches your drooping eyes try to focus on his face. “still with me, angel?” you nod lightly as he places a kiss on your forehead. “good, gonna get you all cleaned up and then we’ll get some sleep, okay?” you nod again.

jake sits there for a moment, memorizing the lines of your face and the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. he turns and stops the water from running. “come here, beautiful,” jake lifts you up again and places you into the tub. you sit there, mind still fuzzy, watching the ceiling lights reflect against the surface of the water. jake tugs his shirt off before sliding in behind you, letting your back rest against his chest.

jake grabs your body wash, lathering it between his hands before he gently spreads the bubbles across your body, diligently scrubbing your tired body clean.

“thank you,” you mumble, leaning the crown of your head back against his chest to look up at him, “of course, angel.” he kisses your forehead and you smile at the action, feeling him rinsing the soap from your skin before your eyes flutter shut for a moment.

the sight of you falling asleep against jake gives him a warm feeling in his stomach.

he washes up quickly, trying to not disturb your sleeping form. jake uncorks the bath and stands, reaching for the nearby towel before helping you to your feet. he dries himself quickly after realizing there’s only one towel, and then he’s wrapping you in it and guiding you to step out of the tub, your eyes still conveying how tired you are. jake tugs on his sweats before stepping back into your bedroom, digging through your drawers for clean clothes. he finds a suitable sleep set and a clean pair of panties before returning to your exhausted form standing still in the bathroom, leaning against the countertop.

“alright pretty,” he guides your legs to step into your panties, pulling them up your legs slowly before following them with a pair of shorts, “did so good for me, baby.” he reassures your tired mind, placing a gentle kiss on your hip after pulling the shorts up to rest on your waist.

jake finishes drying off your top half before tugging the shirt he picked out over your frame, helping you get your arms into the holes. once you’re fully dressed, he watches you with an unknown emotion stirring deep inside his body. “nap time,” he offers you a smile before leading you back to your bed, making note to wash your cum covered sheets later once the two of you wake up again. he lays you down on top of your comforter to keep a barrier between the stained sheets and your freshly washed body, crossing the room to grab a throw blanket and placing it on top of you. jake sneaks in behind you, wrapping his arms around your center and resting his head on your shoulder, breathing in your fresh scent, a smell that brings a sense of peace to his otherwise busy mind.

“get some sleep,” jake kisses your cheek then your shoulder before returning his head to the place it feels most comfortable.

“goodnight, angel.”

you slide through the front door of the frat house the next day, watching as yet another party unfolds before your eyes. you glance around, looking for heeseung or jay, or even sunghoon, knowing jake would reveal himself later in the evening when he got tired of watching you walk around in the tiniest skirt known to man, one you wore purposely just to rile him up.

you pass by a few aquaintances as you continue your search, greeting them kindly, stopping for small talk. the hallways reveal none of the men you’re looking for as you glance down the endless expanse of random doors that line the walls. you stand at the bottom of the stairs, about to head up before you see two people nearly fucking on the top of the steps, causing you to turn around and head back towards the living room.

you walk out into the backyard, finding sunghoon talking with someone near the side of the house, beginning to approach them before you stop. their hushed voices reach your ears as a distinct accent hits you.

“there’s no way you don’t like her, man, i’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“sunghoon,” jake warns, “i don’t like y/n, bro. she means nothing to me, seriously. drop it.”

you feel your heart shatter beneath your ribcage, pieces scattering out and stabbing themselves into your organs as you step back into the house, bumping into someone who catches you before you can tumble to the ground.

“y/n, you okay?” heeseung asks as he watches you, searching your face.

“i– i’m fine heeseung,” you try to wrestle from his hold, “please let me go,” you whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks pathetically, trying to hide your embarrassed face from the tall man.

heeseung drags you into the kitchen, thankfully empty of jay’s usual presence, and he lifts you to sit you down on the counter, the cold surface against your bare legs grounding you the slightest bit. “what’s wrong? do i need to call wonyoung?”

you shake your head, burying your face in your hands, sobs racking your entire body. “i’m so stupid,” you explain between tears, “i shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, i really didn’t mean to, but i heard jake talking about me with sunghoon and i–” you whimper audibly, wiping your eyes with your forearm as you look up at heeseung, who is watching you closely. “i like him so much, heeseung, i have for so long, and he said i didn’t even mean anything to him, and now i feel so fucking embarrassed!” you ramble, your mind feeling fuzzy as you try to fight the tears continuing to tumble down your cheeks, “ever since jay’s birthday party he’s been treating me different, and sometimes i guess i had tricked myself into thinking he might like me back… he– he says the sweetest things whenever we have sex, and treats me so gentle after and calls me all these nicknames… i guess he just says that shit to every girl he manages to get in his bed,” your crying has slowed, anger beginning to mix with sadness as your emotions shift slightly.

“i can’t believe i actually went along with his dumb idea,” you scold yourself, “i’m seriously so stupid.”

you can’t believe you wanted so desperately for jake to return your feelings that you let him use you, believing that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did. and he shoved your hope right back in your face just to taunt you with it.

god, this is useless.

you’re useless, your brain reminds you.

maybe jake had a point in using you for his own pleasure. he has never once shown you any romantic interest before you agreed to a change in your relationship dynamic, so why would anything change suddenly at the drop of a hat?

why would you think you’d ever be enough for him?

you shake your head, eyes brimming with more tears at the memory of allowing him to use you without question, wondering if you even meant anything at all to jake, sexually or otherwise. how had your crush gotten so bad that you’d let a man devour you and rip you apart just to leave you to pick up the pieces yourself? the sim jaeyun you found yourself crushing on was leagues different than the man you just overheard, and you felt your stomach sink at the thought of the boy you once knew becoming barely recognizable.

“y/n,” heeseung’s voice brings you out of the fog, “y/n, it’s okay, you’re not stupid.” he wraps you in a tight hug, the tears returning as you soak the shoulder of his shirt. “jake’s stupid if he doesn’t realize what a catch you are, pretty.” he rubs your back gently.

“everything okay in here?”

“not now,” heeseung attempts to shoo jake away, to which the australian boy stands still, watching with confusion. “jake, seriously, go away.”

heeseung stumbles as jake shoves him lightly, “what the fuck did you do, man!”

“what you should be asking is what the fuck did you do, jake,” heeseung glares at him, watching his best friend nearly fuck up everything he doesn’t know he’s been longing for this whole time.

jake lets heeseung’s words slip past him, turning to you, eyes lined with concern, “you okay?”

you watch jake, tears still slowly sliding down your red cheeks, shaking your head, “leave me alone, sim.” the venom in your tone tears at his heart, watery gaze watching him with hatred brewing in his heart, “don’t pretend like you care about me.”

“i–”

“jake, leave before something worse happens,” heeseung advises him, holding back the words he actually wants to say to his helplessly blind and stupid best friend. jake obeys, walking slowly out of the kitchen with one last glance at you, the sight of you crying into heeseung’s hold nearly breaking him in two.

oh fuck.

the tidal wave of emotions hits jake all at once, feelings he’s unknowingly denied since you first met all those years ago beginning to settle into his gaze, watching you with hurt at the way you pushed him away with your words.

heeseung pulls jay into the kitchen as he’s walking by, instructing him to take care of you. heeseung approaches jake, who is standing right outside the kitchen and tugs him further into the house, away from you and your sad eyes. “jake, what the fuck dude!”

“i didn’t do anything!” he fights back.

“why the hell would you say that shit about her to hoon!”

realization dawns on him, bringing jake to rub a tired hand against his face, “god, she heard me, didn’t she?” jake asks sheepishly, to which heeseung hits him in the shoulder, saying “yes, you idiot!”

“fuck…” jake sighs deeply, looking up at heeseung, “i really fucked up, didn’t i?”

“yes, dummy!”

jake pinches the bridge of his nose, biting his lower lip out of frustration, “if i was her i’d hate me right now.”

“did you actually mean all that shit you said?”

“i– i didn’t really think much about what we were doing, but hoon was grilling me and saying all this shit like he always does and i just wanted him to shut the hell up, he was overwhelming me with all his stupid questions,” jake shakes his head, frustration brewing in his stomach.

“you like her, don’t you?” jake doesn’t meet heeseung’s eyes, only nodding and sighing deeply, “i didn’t think i did, but seeing her push me away like that made me so sad, dude. i don’t want her to hate me…”

“sometimes you’re stupid, jake,” heeseung places his hands on his shoulders, “just go, man. sleep it off and give her some space. you broke her damn heart, dude.”

you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, glancing around before realizing you’re still in the frat house. “good morning, sunshine,” sunghoon smiles at you as he exits the bathroom, “about time you woke up.”

“sunghoon… what the hell happened last night?” your mind is running a mile a minute, praying you didn’t sleep with jake’s best friend.

“there was no funny business, don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he reassures you, “heeseung brought you here after you nearly cried yourself into a coma in the kitchen.”

you rub at your eyes, sighing loudly as the night’s events wash over you suddenly. “jake’s not here, is he?”

sunghoon shakes his head, “no, he’s not here, so don’t freak out.”

you sigh loudly, “are jay and heeseung here?” sunghoon nods in response, “yeah, jay’s probably cooking something up for you right now.”

“morning, sleeping beauty,” jay greets you as you stumble into the kitchen, the clothes against your skin meant for a much larger frame as you nearly trip over the extra fabric hanging off the bottom of your sweatpants, the legs too long for your shorter body. these must be heeseung’s…

“hi,” you return the greeting, sliding up to sit at a barstool at the island. “is… are you guys okay?”

“us?” jay questions, glancing back at you from his spot at the stove where he’s frying two eggs for you, “i should be asking how you are, y/n.”

“i– i don’t know, honestly. my head really hurts.” jay nods his head towards the end of the island, “heeseung left some ibuprofen out for you.”

you take it, mentally noting to thank him later. “how are you feeling about… everything you heard?” jay questions, trying to choose his words carefully.

“i– he really hurt me, jay.” jay can hear the sniffle in your voice, mentally cursing out his best friend for being so damn blind to his own feelings this whole time. “i don’t… i don’t think i’m gonna go to class today. i can’t face him right now.” your voice is small, your spirit broken from what you overheard last night, knowing all of this, all of you, everything the two of you experienced together and made each other feel, truly meant nothing to him.

“eat up,” jay presents your plate to you. “how’d you know how i like my eggs?”

jay shrugs, grinning, “lucky guess,” he lies easily, knowing now wouldn’t be the right time to tell you that jake gave all six of his close friends a rundown on your favorite and most hated foods after getting plastered one night a few weeks ago.

heeseung ends up driving you back to your apartment, despite protests that it’s close enough to walk. he drops you off, making you promise to eat lunch at the least.

you spend the day lying in bed, alternating between crying until you can feel your chest heaving and a dryness in your eyes from having already cried all the liquid out of your body, to taking intermittent naps, snuggling under your blanket, grasping it tightly for any semblance of stability.

of all the people he chose to hurt, it had to be you. you, the person who has been with him through many stages of life, competing closely with him and hiding your feelings from the first day that you met. the doe eyed boy you met all those years ago felt like a distant memory from the man who decided to control your life and mind, using you for his own gain and tossing you aside when he felt it was fitting.

oh the things you’d do to forget you ever met sim jaeyun.

the next day you drag yourself out of bed, attempting to at least look presentable before stumbling into class, walking to the back and sitting next to riki, not daring to even glance in jake’s direction. riki greets you with a slight nod of his head and you offer him a small smile, the most genuine one you can muster up, for him not forcing you to speak. you know your voice will betray you, and the minute you start speaking you’ll cry instantly.

jake can’t stop looking back at you, his heart breaking every time he sees the frown etched into your features, brows tugged down and lips curling into the opposite of what he wants to see. he tries to catch your gaze, but you avoid him completely, “can he stop looking back here,” you mumble, pulling a small chuckle from riki’s lips. “don’t pay him any mind, y/n.”

the class goes by agonizingly slow, each pointed glance in your direction from jake tearing the pieces of your heart further apart. you ignore him time after time until the professor dismisses you, and you turn to riki with pleading eyes. “can i… can i walk out with you?”

“of course,” riki’s kindness makes your gloomy day a little bit brighter as he gathers his things and leads you out of the classroom, using the door furthest from jake. jake watches you leave, sighing deeply, hoping you won’t avoid him forever.

you walk into your next class with jake a minute late, glancing around to see all the seats taken besides your usual one beside the man you’d like to see the least right now. you set your things down gently and take your seat, watching the professor as they drone on about the lesson. you will your brain to focus on the lecture, but the presence beside you is causing a thumping in your skull and a buzz in your bones. jake keeps stealing glances at your profile, watching and holding himself back from reaching out to touch you gently, to calm the leg that you’re shaking beneath your desk.

you spend the period zoning out, not even caring when the teacher hands out the tests from last week, a high score sitting atop your worksheet. jake watches as you pick the paper up, seeing that he’s lost to you again. the realization doesn’t bring him anger or a competitive drive today, no, it brings him an immense feeling of being lost. jake thinks he’s lost apart of himself when you started ignoring him, and he knows it’s his own fault, vowing to heeseung that he’d fix what he broke between the two of you

you leave the classroom as quickly as humanly possible, hoping to escape without jake catching you. “y/n, please, can we talk?” he questions after catching your wrist in his grasp in the hallway.

you shake your head, watching him with a teary gaze, unable to even squeak out all the things you want to say to him. you want to curse him for ever making you fall for him completely. you urge to reach out and pound your fists against his chest, knowing he’s not hurting the way you are. you want to cry in front of him, making him watch to see how he’s broken you down to the lowest version of yourself. but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of any of these reactions, knowing he’d love to see you suffering because of him, knowing he played you just the exact way he planned to.

you yank your hand away from his grip, the skin burning after you rip it from his grasp. you leave as fast as your exhausted, beat down body can carry you, opting to skip the rest of the day’s obligations.

“y/n, here,” wonyoung perches herself on the side of your bed, “i brought you some ramen, heeseung dropped it off for you, said it’s his favorite brand.” heeseung had omitted the fact that this brand is actually jake’s favorite and not his, the sneaky bastard. she smiles as she presents the bowl to you, with some fresh toppings she obviously adding sitting atop the broth and noodle mixture.

“thanks, wony,” you take a bite, groaning at the taste, “this is so good.”

“good,” she watches you eat with worried eyes, “how are you feeling?”

you swallow your bite before looking up at her, “a little better, i guess.”

wonyoung offers you a weak smile, knowing it’s killing her inside to see you going through this situation with jake. “are you going to your next class?” she questions, hoping you’ll say yes, knowing your grades will start to be affected if you keep skipping the way you have the past few days. she also knows all too well that no man is worth jeopardizing your future over, no matter how long you’ve liked him.

you nod, slurping up the bowl’s contents with speed, “yeah, my professor emailed and asked if i was okay, and i don’t want to worry her any further.”

wonyoung nods in approval at your response, “good. just ignore him the whole time, okay?” to which you nod, gulping down the rest of your broth.

you approach your next class feeling a bit better after eating the meal wonyoung so generously made for you, even if ramen is quick and easy to make, she really didn’t have to care for you the way she did time and time again.

you feel a tug on your arm as someone tugs you in the opposite direction of the place you were heading to, pulling the both of you inside an empty classroom and blocking the exit.

you look up to see jake watching you, his eyes less bright than they usually appear to be, the spark you see whenever he’s hellbent on beating you seemingly absent from his gaze.

“please don’t,” you beg him, not wanting to hear him gloat or whatever the hell he’s planning to do here.

“y/n, please,” jake begs, eyes searching your face for some kind of reassurance that you wouldn’t leave, “please, i need to apologize.”

“you don’t have anything to apologize for,” you lie straight through your teeth, “so can i please just leave?”

jake’s pleading voice is slowly breaking down your resolve, “please, can i at least explain?” when you don’t answer, he takes the opportunity to start laying his feelings out on the table.

“whatever you heard me say, i know it sounded horrible, but i didn’t mean it.”

“oh, so you didn’t mean that i meant nothing to you?” he winces at the words that you throw back in his face, knowing that was one of the worst things he could’ve said.

“no, i didn’t mean it,” jake tells you, gaze piercing yours, “i– i was stupid, y/n, you have to believe me. i only said that to get sunghoon to back off, of course i care about you. i’ve spent how many years by your side? and you think i would actually hate you?”

the words ring in your ears, making your head hurt as you continue to listen to him. “i’m so sorry, y/n, i really am. sunghoon wouldn’t leave me alone and i just wanted him to shut up for once.” jake rubs his hands over his face, breathing a deep sigh against his palms before shoving them back into his jacket pockets, gaze meeting yours again. “when we started messing around… i didn’t know how i felt… i thought it was just fun. but every time i saw you i felt weird, and i didn’t know what it meant, i figured it was normal because we’ve been rivals for so long and i’ve always felt this drive to be better than you. but it started feeling different… i started to just want to be around you all the time, whether we were fucking or not, and i kept denying it to everyone who would ask me.”

jake’s mind flashes back to the countless times sunghoon has harassed him, asking when he’s going to confess to you. “i don’t know when i realized it, but i like you, y/n. i guess i have this whole time, and i’m so sorry i made you think that i didn’t.” he resists the urge to reach out and hold your hand in his, knowing the physical touch would likely only bring him comfort, versus the intent being to ground you as well. “i… i really fucked up, i shouldn’t have asked you to be in a friends with benefits relationship, i should’ve known that’s not what you wanted. i’m sorry if you ever felt like i was using you, i… i’m sorry i didn’t realize my feelings sooner.”

jake’s speech knocks the wind out of you as you stare at him blankly, tears brewing in your eyes, “jake, i–” you mumble, mind swimming at his admission. “thank you for apologizing, i– i think i need some time, if that’s okay.” he nods quickly in response, the action warming you up inside.

“take all the time you need. what i just said is a lot, and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me. i just needed to tell you before i lost you forever.”

“i– i’ll talk to you later okay?” jake nods, moving out of the way of the door, watching you walk away. anxiety brews in his gut as he hopes with his entire being that you’ll forgive him, even though deep down he wonders if he even deserves an ounce of forgiveness.

jake concludes that he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, that he’s royally fucked up and he’s determined to fix what he’s broken between the two of you.

you let your emotions brew for a few days, jake choosing to give you space during class and every other time you find yourself near him. relief washes over you every time you see him and he doesn’t rush to your side, knowing the simple action would just further complicate the already confusing thoughts in your mind.

you’re still obviously hurt by what he said, jake’s words creating a hole in your heart feeling like you wasted so much time loving someone and hoping to be loved back, even agreeing to a relationship you knew you couldn’t handle without your emotions getting in the way somehow.

the sincerity of his apology and the fear in his eyes when he explained everything to you still remains in your mind, all the positive memories you have with jake sitting in the forefront of your consciousness. you are itching to forgive him, but the fear of him breaking your heart again rings through your mind with every passing thought.

you’ve made a decision in your head, praying it’s the right one, not wanting to get burned again.

“can i talk to you?”

jake nods his head, bidding his friend goodbye as he follows you through campus. you stop at a bench near the fountain by the engineering building, watching as the water spouts up in a gorgeous display, zoning out for a minute. jake waits patiently for you to speak as he takes a seat next to you.

“jake,” you turn to look at him, “i… i accept your apology.” jake’s eyes light up at your admission, “i know feelings are complicated, mine certainly are right now, i just– did you know the whole time how much i liked you?”

jake shakes his head, “no, y/n, i wouldn’t put you through that on purpose, i promise.”

you nod in response, watching your hands that are clasped together in your lap for a moment before looking back up at him. “i– do you really like me? you promise you’re not lying?”

jake nods, reaching out to take your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze, “no lies, i promise.”

“what… where do we go from here?”

jake thinks for a moment, not prepared for the question, before sucking in a breath and asking, “how about i take you out on a real date?”

he catches you off guard with his question, “yeah?” he nods, “yeah, pretty. i meant everything i said, i don’t want you to slip away when you mean so much to me… it just took me an embarrassingly long time to realize how absolutely infatuated with you i am.”

his last sentence makes you embarrassed and you attempt to hide your burning cheeks, knowing your ears are betraying you with the tips turning red. “okay, sim, you can take me on a date.” jake’s eyes sparkle at your agreement, relief crashing over his body in an overwhelming display. you smile at the way his eyes shine as he watches you, feeling contentment settle into your heart, as if he’s putting the broken pieces back together slowly, fixing what he accidentally broke inside you.

“jake, where are you taking me?” you question, brow quirked as the man you’ve wanted for so long stands before you, leaning against his sleek red car. the sight of him waiting so casually, eyes trained off at something in the distance, makes your heart flutter.

“hi, beautiful,” jake greets you, grabbing your hand and raising it above your head, guiding you to do a spin for him as he appreciates your outfit. “you look gorgeous, angel.”

“you don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” you smile at jake as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you inside. he steps over and takes his seat on the driver’s side, the engine revving to life with the press of a button. “where are we heading?"

jake uses his left hand to steer, the right resting on the gear shift as he takes the two of you off campus, being extra careful as his car now has precious cargo inside. “it’s a surprise,” the midday sun beams down on the two of you as he turns into a neighborhood. you watch his face, appreciating every feature that you’ve admired for years, heart swelling at the thought of the man in front of you reciprocating your feelings.

jake shifts the car into park after a short drive and you look around, taking in the surrounding area. a playground sits in front of you, a small forest sitting a ways behind it, tall trees towering over everything nearby. the sun still cascades through the leaves as jake opens your door, shutting it behind you as you step onto the asphalt of the parking lot surrounding you. he opens his small trunk, pulling a basket out and a small pink and white checkered blanket. you feel a buzz beneath your skin as your eyes sparkle, realizing jake has packed the two of you a picnic lunch for your first date.

jake leads you over to a small patch of grass behind the playground set, the spot having the greenest grass. you wonder if he picked this spot special for the two of you, the possibility of it making your heart soar. he lays the blanket down, flattening it out so no wrinkles are in sight before placing the basket on top and helping you sit down.

“don’t go thinking i’m some master chef now, okay? i had jay help me…” jake says, wanting to hide his face in embarrassment as he pokes fun at himself. you watch as he pulls a variety of dishes out, “but i made some stuff by myself, too!”

this feels strange, but seeing the usually confident and argumentative man you have fought against academically for all these years seemingly doubting himself? it is definitely a different sensation than the ones you’re used to. but the sight made your insides feel fuzzy, butterflies sprouting in your tummy, watching in real time as you feel yourself falling for him even more. “jake, this is lovely,” you place a hand on his arm, his movements halting in response as you reassure him, giving him a light squeeze. “you’re lovely. i’m flattered you did all of this for me.”

“i wanted you to see that i’m serious about this, about us.”

jake takes the plates and bowls out, handing you one, before setting the silverware down in the middle of the blanket. “here, we made some of my favorites and some foods i remember you mentioning over the years… i hope you still like them,” you can hear how nervous he is, “jake, seriously, stop freaking out. it’s just me,” you tell him as he opens one of the glass dishes revealing a bowl of homemade kimchi stew, a dish you know jake has loved for a long time.

“that doesn’t help me,” jake laughs a little at his own embarrassment and nerves, “that’s the whole reason why i’m so nervous… you’re you, and this is my one chance to show you how much i care about you.”

you watch as he opens the next dish, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, “jake,” you glance up, meeting his eyes as you nearly cry at the worried look in them, “i don’t remember the last time i even had these… thank you.”

“i remember you mentioned them sometime in sophomore year,” jake replies sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “holy shit, that makes me sound like such a creep.”

you shake your head, watching jake, “stop it, jake, seriously. i think it’s adorable that you remembered that from so long ago. it’s not weird or creepy!”

jake sees the sincerity in your gaze, letting out a breath of relief, “i… i really like you, seriously, i don’t want to mess up my one chance.”

you grab the sides of jake’s face and gently pull him towards you, capturing his lips in your own, hoping to wash away some of his worries with the action. you feel lighter as you kiss him, his plush, delicate lips feeling like heaven against your own. you missed kissing him, and kissing him now feels so… different. refreshingly so, knowing that the man you’re holding in your arms reciprocates your own feelings that you’ve pushed down and hid from the world for so long.

you pull away after a moment, resting your head against his, “you haven’t messed anything up, jake, okay?”

jake stares into your eyes, his emotions bubbling and growing beneath the surface, watching as he falls more in love with you the longer he watches your gorgeous irises stare back at him, ones that he wouldn’t mind getting lost in. “okay, y/n.” you seal your promise with another kiss, feeling him smile against your lips this time, knowing the man you’re sitting across from is the same one you fell for all those years ago. caring, kind, extremely driven, gorgeous, and above all, captivating in every way, his drive and need to succeed always pushing yourself to be the best version of yourself. and you know his drive to be the best has extended here, going above and beyond to impress you with a sentimental date, the concept of which makes you feel mushy inside.

time passes quickly, conversation and good food flowing between the two of you, giggles and stories being shared, feeling yourself fall further for him the longer you spent by his side. when the sky starts to darken with clouds and the threat of rain, you and jake pack quickly, rushing to the car when raindrops start to fall on your heads. jake drives you both back to campus, the ambience of the water falling on the hood of the car along with the low lull of the radio causing you to fall asleep. jake pulls into his usual parking spot outside his apartment building, picking you up in his arms and setting the picnic basket on your stomach, carrying you to his home, a small studio apartment on the second floor. after somehow unlocking the door without dropping you or waking you up, he sets the picnic basket on the counter before placing you in his bed, tucking you in under his freshly washed blanket. jake busies himself with putting leftovers away as you sleep before coming to join you, sneaking under the covers and spooning you.

jake places a small kiss against the back of your head, watching as your stomach rises and falls peacefully with each quiet breath you take. “sleep well, angel.”

“i haven’t told the guys yet,” jake’s statement shocks you as the two of you walk into the frat hand in hand, a bustling party happening around you. you couldn’t believe after three successful dates and jake asking you to be his girlfriend, that he has kept that from his friends for all that time. “i wanted to tell them together, so they couldn’t bully me.” he jokes, leading you through the house, looking for his three best friends.

you find the three of them standing at the end of a hallway, near the room where you and jake first hooked up. you blush at the sight, glancing up at your boyfriend who gives you a quick wink. “what’s happening in your pretty little head, angel?”

“nothing,” you smack his arm, attempting to push him forwards to meet his friends, “let’s go talk to them before you or i do something crazy.”

“crazy doesn’t necessarily mean bad, though,” jake teases you before relenting, walking towards his friends who all smile at the sight of the two of you.

“i told you so,” heeseung grins the widest of all before jay and sunghoon’s faces drop suddenly, “pay up, jayhoon.”

“stop fucking calling us that,” sunghoon shoves his friend’s shoulder before fishing a $50 bill out of his wallet, jay doing the same but with a $100. “jay you should just be my sugar daddy at this point,” heeseung smirks as he tucks the bills into the inside pocket of his jacket.

sunghoon scoffs at heeseung’s words, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “heejay will never be a thing, so keep dreaming.” jay teases before looking at you and jake again, watching as you lean your head against his arm as you continue to hold his hand. “glad you came to your senses, jakey boy… i told you it’d work out, didn’t i, y/n?”

“you didn’t say anything remotely close to those words, jay,” you argue, to which he shrugs, “well, i was going to but then you started hitting me.”

“you were playing twenty questions with me while i was in a crisis!”

“we’re actually… i asked y/n to be my girlfriend last week,” jake scratches the back of his head, “so expect to see her around a lot more.”

“ha!” sunghoon smacks heeseung’s shoulder, “pay up!” he sticks his hands out to the other two men, who promptly give him $20 each.

you watch as the money is exchanged, “how much betting on us did you guys do?”

heeseung smirks at the two of you, “a lot. it’s been happening for longer than either of you will ever know.”

“nobody expected jake to actually man up and ask you to be his girlfriend officially this soon except hoon,” jake smacks heeseung and jay at this admission as you realize the trio has known of your semi secret dating the entire time, “what the hell, guys!”

“doesn’t matter, because it all worked out, didn’t it, lovebirds?” heeseung watches you two with a pleased look on his face, “and i knew it would happen, it just took a little while for jake to get his head out of his ass.”

“be nice,” you scold heeseung, “he didn’t know, don’t be mean, heeseung.”

heeseung relents, raising his hands in a defensive manner, “fine, fine.”

the five of you fall into a comfortable conversation, with jay cracking jokes and sunghoon laughing at all of them, heeseung watching them both with amusement in his gaze.

“can we go home? i’m kinda tired…” you ask jake after a while of conversing and enjoying yourself with the four men, staring up at him with two wide eyes that he realizes he’s never been able to say no to, and today will not be the day that he starts. little does he know the ulterior motive brewing in your stomach, wetness growing between your legs since you passed by the room where the two of you first slept together. “sure, pretty. let’s go.” the two of you bid your goodbyes to the trio, watching as they bicker about their betting habits as you head out.

the two of you drive back to jake’s apartment, which will soon be yours since your lease with wonyoung is coming up, and your soon to be former roommate and still current best friend has decided to take a semester abroad, getting into her dream program that she’s been talking about since the summer.

“are you really tired, baby?” a mischievous smile overtakes your features as you shake your head, leading jake to the bed and pushing him to sit on the edge of it. “oh, i see…” jake smiles, hands covering the expanse of your hips as you straddle to sit on his lap.

“want you to make love to me, jakey,” you plead, grinding your core down onto him.

“god, angel–” jake groans at the feeling of you pressing yourself against him, “fuck, you drive me crazy,” he pushes you down further onto his clothed member as you continue your motions, needing to feel more friction. “if i weren’t so hard right now i’d make you ride my thigh forever.”

you groan at his admission, movements faltering and he takes your moment of distraction to pick you up, placing you against the pillows. he pulls back for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head and you gawk at the sight of his toned stomach, only ever seeing it in glimpses during your previous escapades.

“mmm, i could just eat you up,” you tell him, running your fingernails up and down gently along his abs, “can’t believe you’ve hidden this under your shirts all this time…”

“you were itching to get a peek all these years, weren’t you, baby?” jake teases as he takes your shirt off next, tugging your bra off after and pinching a nipple between his fingers. you groan, back arching up as he sucks on the opposite one harshly. “j– jake–” you groan, hands threading into his hair and pulling lightly. he groans against your skin, loving the feeling of the pain rushing through his scalp. “oooh, you like that, pretty boy?” jake moans as you pull his mouth away from your nipple, eyes fluttering shut at the sting traveling through his scalp as you tug at his locks again.

“stop,” jake begs, “another time, baby, let me take care of you tonight.” he sighs in relief as you release your hold on his hair. “alright, sim, you’re free to go this time… but i’ll be saving that for later, baby boy.”

“god, you’re such a menace,” jake groans as his mind returns from the subspace he was slowly slipping into, sliding down the bed until he’s eye level with your core, seeing the wetness nearly escaping from your thin panties. he tugs your skirt off unceremoniously, “been wanting to eat you since the first night i had you, pretty,” jake bites at your panties and yanks them down with his teeth, the sight making you whimper at the pure sex appeal oozing from the man beneath you. jake leans in and dips his tongue between your folds. “fuck, knew you’d taste so sweet, angel.”

jake eats you out like a man starved, slobbering into your folds, pushing his tongue into your pussy, flicking his tongue inside of you. you moan loudly, hands gripping the sheets on the bed, a nearly pornographic sound escaping your lips as jake sucks harshly on your clit, stars appearing behind your eyelids.

“fuck, jake–” you glance down to see the man of your dreams perched between your legs, whimpering at the sight of him biting your inner thighs and gripping your legs tightly, holding them wide open for him to have full access. “you close, angel?” he smiles up at you, the vision of him with your wetness coating his mouth and chin pulling another noise from your parted lips. you nod quickly, “please, jake,” you plead, a request he responds to by continuing his assault on your already abused and leaking pussy, his tongue’s movements pulling a well deserved orgasm from your body, watching as your back arches up, pushing your core further into his mouth.

“jake!” you whine, fluid still gushing out, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure continues to pass over you in overwhelming waves. “‘s too much!”

“oh no it’s not, my sweet angel girl can take it,” jake argues before biting your clit.

“ahh!–” you scream, the sound bringing a smile to jake’s face, continuing to push you to overstimulation with his wet muscle’s motions against your pussy.

jake finally relents after you’re nearly in tears from the overwhelming sensations he’s putting your body through, bringing his face up to be level with yours, his clothed member pressing against your still dripping pussy, “you’re so pretty when you cry, baby.” he whispers with sincerity, capturing your lips in a quick, searing kiss before pulling away again to whisper, “i only ever want to see you cry because i’m making you feel good, okay?”

“okay, jake,” you whisper in response, smile tugging at the corner of your lips at your boyfriend’s insistence on treating you right until the end of time.

“no more crying unless it’s on my cock,” jake smirks, the words making you clench at your pure attraction and adoration for the man in front of you.

watching jake tug his pants down his legs makes you groan, staring down at the huge bulge pressing against his thin boxers. “stop teasing, jake,” you whine.

“baby can’t wait any longer?” you shake your head, watching as jake pulls his boxers off, the blushing, leaking tip of his cock making your mouth water. “ahh, what an eager girl. if you weren’t dripping onto my sheets right now i’d make you suck my cock. but i’ll be nice and give my baby what she needs.” jake rambles on as you can do nothing but stare at his length, drooling at the sight of it, knowing the stretch it gives you is always delicious, never fully adjusting to his generous size even after all the times you’ve been together.

jake breaches your entrance, letting just the tip sit inside your hole. you wiggle, trying to force him further inside, “patience, baby,” he scolds and you whimper at his strict tone coming out. “don’t want me to punish you, do you?” you shake your head. you know you could take a punishment, but right now you just want jake to hold you close as he makes love to you.

jake slowly slides in further, watching with hungry eyes as your hole takes him easily, “fuck, baby, i’m gonna keep you stuffed, my sexy ass girlfriend deserves to be filled up all hours of the day,” he babbles as he buries himself to the hilt, the snug fit of your walls filling his brain with even more delicious, dirty thoughts.

“mm– feel so full,” you mutter, watching jake’s face with adoration and love in your eyes, “thank you, jakey,” you whimper as he slides nearly all the way out, allowing just the tip to stay inside before pushing back in slowly, groaning at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him right back in without protest, “god, this tiny pussy was made just for my cock.” you nod in response, seeing jake watching your face now before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing himself as close to you as he possibly can as he presses his face into your neck, sucking and biting at the junction between your throat and shoulder. jake tries desperately to leave marks, wanting to see them on your gorgeous skin when he wakes up next to you the following morning; little does he know you’ll wake him up with his cock in your mouth, mumbling around the dick that pushes an ache to your jaw about how you just wanted to help as you saw him sleeping with a tent in his boxers.

“need you closer,” you plead as jake rocks slowly in and out of you, love penetrating each thrust as he buries himself as deep as possible inside your pretty hole, the sensations pushing jake to the edge, the rubber band in his stomach begging to snap. “ugh–” you groan against jake’s lips as he captures them in a kiss, slow and sloppy but so full of want and need and unspoken pleas of never leave my side.

jake pulls away from the kiss, continuing to push into you with slow movements, wanting to feel every inch of your walls with each drag of his cock, holding his impending orgasm back behind gritted teeth, “tell me what you need, baby, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

“just need you,” you plead, eyes watering from the overwhelming presence of jake bearing his body to you, his mind and soul on display as he shows you how much he needs you with each loving action. “just need you,” you repeat, mind slipping away as he continues his movements, hips never tiring as he chases what he knows you need. jake removes one arm from your neck to snake down to your core, rubbing between your folds to gather up your own wetness before rubbing against your clit in the pattern he knows you love.

“fuck– jakey–” you groan, burying your head into the crook of his neck as he stares down at where the two of you meet, mind never getting tired of the visual of you taking him all inside, his length sliding in and out with ease. jake begins to fuck into you faster, nearly rutting against you as he chases the orgasm he knows is brewing in your gut. “come on, my angel girl, make a mess on me,” his words in your ears as you pull away from his neck to look at him. you nearly cry seeing jake meet your gaze; his delicate brown eyes meeting your own, need swimming in his gaze, “fuck!–” you gasp, beginning to babble words that don’t register in your mind as your high washes over you. jake watches your eyes fluttering shut, finally allowing himself to cum with you, pushing as deep as he can. jake watches as your breathing returns to normal, glancing down at the white ring surrounding his length, some of your cum mixture escaping and spilling everywhere. “god, baby, look at you. my perfect angel.” he traces his thumb along your cheek, watching a smile overtake your lips, knowing you’re utterly spent after only two orgasms. the day’s festivities have taken a toll on you, and he can see the tiredness in your eyes as they watch him with adoration.

you smile, “you don’t even know how happy you make me.”

jake cleans both of you off diligently, promising to throw the bedding in the wash tomorrow, knowing the cum would stain if you left it any longer. “i love you,” he breathes out, watching your face for a reaction at his sudden admission. you nearly cry as the words reach your ears, an overwhelming sensation in your gut. “you do?” you whimper, eyesight feeling blurring from the tears accumulating along your lashline. “i do, baby.”

“i love you, too, jakey.” he wraps you in a hug, neither of you caring that you’re both still naked, just needing to feel his hands holding you close to him. your voice is shaky and quiet as he holds you impossibly close, “i love you so much, you don’t even know.”

jake pulls back, holding your shoulders and placing kisses all over your face, on any spot he can reach, “you don’t know how happy i am to hear that, angel. you’ve made my life so much better.”

“now you have a built in study partner for life,” you tease, smiling at his continued onslaught of gentle kisses across your cheeks and nose, on your eyelids and on the corner of your mouth. “for life, huh?” jake teases, watching as your cheeks burn red at the realization of what you’ve said.

“don’t worry, pretty. now that i have you, i’m never letting you go.”

[stxrvel]

the cliff (1)

hi guys! this is the first azriel fic i post here. i mainly do marvel but i just couln't stop thinking about this so i decided to take it forward. i hope you guys like this! see u next time <;33

summary: you never thought that the road to your mate could bring so much suffering… pairing: azriel x f!reader words: +4k warnings: briefly descriptions of torture, bad words, descriptions of sorrow¿?, angst but a happy ending, i think. also, English is not my first language and i actually read acotar in another language, so sorry for any mistakes! and also!! i haven't read a court of silver flames, so probably the facts around cassian and nesta's bond and feyre's pregnancy aren't accurate, sorry for that!

part 2: the house

part 3: the court

part 4: the routine

You were sure that the decisions you had made shouldn't have led you to that place. With your limp legs dragging against the grass, the wet feel of the mud drying coldly on your skin with each gale, increasing the chills that ran through your body, not only because of the dread and fear you had for your life, but because of the scorching frost on the top of that cliff.

There was something magical about wishing upon a shooting star. You knew it, your parents were living proof that it worked. They had met just after your mother had wished upon a dying star. Mates. And they promised you it would be the same for you. You hoped it would be the same for you when, encouraged by your same parents, you wandered Prythian in search of meeting the other end of the bond that you knew connected you to someone beyond, in search of a connection greater than you could ever understand.

You firmly believed in that magic one night, in the midst of the lonely and almost desolate journey from end to end, when lying watching the night sky you saw it pass by. A helpless shooting star.

You made your wish with your heart in your hand, closing your eyes and whispering as if it were a prayer. Maybe it was. You didn't know if that was what had gone wrong.

All you knew was that, the next day, your journey was over.

You hadn't finished waking up when you found yourself being dragged across the ground of the Day Court, right at the border it shared with the Night Court, from the hands of Ilyrian soldiers who wouldn't listen to your shouted words. Or simply preferred to ignore them.

You weren't sure how much you had screamed at them, even as they took you in the most savage way possible and furrowed you through the wind, the cold gusts of the Nightmare Court piercing your skin. But it had to have been a good while, because the next time you were above ground your throat was so dry you could barely breathe.

You didn't know what was going on, not even when days later, after feeding yourself with only mush and water, you met the first person willing to tell you something and not turn his face away from you. It was a man, Ilyrian too, with gigantic black wings that covered almost all the light in the small room where you were held captive. His constant presence invoked darkness.

He never introduced himself. He would only ask “who sent you?”, waiting for a sane answer from you, one that you couldn't give because every time you tried to say something that was not remotely like what he wanted to hear, he would move two fingers of his left hand and two more soldiers would enter the room and grab you roughly by the arms, pulling you closer to a barrel with water that was in the corner of the room. That was the water you usually drank, and it was never as cold as when they entered the room.

Needless to say, after a couple of days, you couldn't even go near the water anymore.

It could've been a couple of days, weeks or months… you weren't sure anymore. Time had become an insignificant concept compared to your desire for freedom. You had explained countless times to the Ilyrian the reasons why they had found you wandering near the Court, but that wasn't enough. Not even when you told him that they could confirm it with your family in the Summer Court. No excuse was good enough, the Ilyrian seemed to simply want to find a culprit, whatever he had to do, whoever he had to point the finger at.

And then, one day, you thought you saw a glimmer of hope. Another lone shooting star, which you barely caught through the bars the room had for windows. The memory of your parents flooded your memory, a dark cloud settling over you and drowning out any sense of calm you were able to collect after the ilyrians left. Through tears and sobs you begged the star for a way out, hoping its magic was powerful enough to fight the savage soldiers.

The next day more ilyrians than usual appeared, but they did not enter the room. Not after the High Lord of the Night Court did so first.

And you thought the star had heard you.

“She didn't say anything?”

His dismissive, indifferent tone almost made you shudder on the icy floor, but you didn't let that take away your hope, kneeling in front of him with dried tears and dirt on your face. With your hands clasped in front of you, as if he were a deity personified, you begged him to listen to you, but you had to watch him send you a disinterested glance before he turned in the direction of the entrance.

“Take her away.”

You didn't know why you had expected the high lord to intercede on your behalf, knowing the stories that brimmed through the Courts in Prythian. Your parents had warned you. They encouraged you to pursue the bond on your chest, but begged you to go no further than Court Day if the bond demanded it. They made you promise to return, and that they would then seek a way to find your mate if he or she was beyond the Night Court. You should've heeded, of course you did. When you saw the cold, emotionless eyes of the high lord's face, you regretted every decision you had made.

Even though you knew it shouldn't have been that way, because you had never done anything wrong. You had never tried to harm someone. Maybe that made it harder. Wondering every night why. Why did you deserve to go through that? What evil was it that you were paying for?

There was something magical about wishing on a shooting star, but that magic wasn't guarded for you.

-

Azriel had been spending sleepless nights for weeks now, without explanation. Things were quiet in Velaris, even in the Court of Nightmares. But when he entered the darkness of his room at night, when he tried to close his eyes with his wings spread across the bed, a knot stirred in his chest. Tears would well up behind his eyes and a sadness would engulf him from head to toe. It was so overwhelming that there were few nights when Azriel could contain the feelings and despair of his shadows.

He tried not to let that deficiency interrupt his work, but it was difficult when his eyes would close at the table during breakfast, or in the middle of the room when Rhys talked about the weekly goals. Several times his friends would start asking questions, but it was easy for Azriel to say he had trouble sleeping because that was never an uncommon occurrence over the course of his long life.

It was once Rhys told him that he had told Madja about his problem and she had sent him some herbs that it all started to get weirder.

Yes, Azriel was able to fall asleep. But every night he had strange dreams. Dreams of a life that was not his own. Memories of someone else he didn't even know. Another woman's life, somewhere Azriel could barely remember when he woke up, with more people who must have been close to her, but not to him, who shared her day to day life, who celebrated together with her, who were happy. Azriel didn't wake up much better in the mornings than when he spent the whole night without sleep.

Now he not only had to deal with the heaviness of lack of sleep, but with the questions. He could never think they were random dreams because he heard the same laughter every time, the same voice, the same place. He felt the same tranquility before waking up.

Azriel believed Madja would be his source of answers then.

“Your mate is looking for you,” the old woman answered him, one sunny day in Velaris when he chased her through her tent hoping she would answer his one question. That stopped him abruptly on his feet, his body from the abdomen upward leaning forward a bit from the suddenness of the movement.

“Mate?”

Madja barely hissed in response, a sound of affirmation that would haunt Azriel for several days afterward.

“How is that possible?”

“What?”

Madja was turning her back to him, her small body hunched over as she inspected the medicinal plants she kept for sale. Azriel watched them along with her, his mind moving through the threads of thoughts, between every memory of his dreams and every memory…of her.

“How can she do that?”

Azriel heard Madja sigh and the sound of metal followed as she dropped the gray watering can she had kept for years into place. Azriel could still remember the first time it had been seen, shiny and pompous in the Velaris sunlight. Madja's brown eyes roamed over his face and Azriel hadn't felt this way since the time when Rhys's mom had looked at him with loving motherly eyes.

“Don't ask me how the bond works, Shadowsinger. The Cauldron knows how it does things.”

Azriel could sleep less after that. Madja had left him with more questions than answers. And, on that note, Azriel began to fly over Velaris more often. For some reason, he felt she was close. The bond hadn't snapped into place yet, but he knew that the time was near when that would happen. He didn't even know if it had snapped for her yet, all he knew was that he had a mate over there, too far away from him, and too scared for him to stand idly by.

Eventually, Azriel had to talk to Rhysand. Rhys, his high lord, his best friend, his brother. Probably the only person in the Inner Circle who could fully understand how he felt at those moments. Because Azriel felt he was going to lose his mind if he didn't find his mate and end whatever suffering she was going through. The uncertainty was eating him alive and the hours of hopelessness and fear that were going on inside him, around that emptiness in his chest, did not ease things at all. If he felt this way from the comfort of his home, he didn't want to imagine what she was going through.

Rhysand agreed to allow him more outings to enlarge the perimeter of his search, but the passing days proved his effort fruitless.

“Everything okay, brother?”

Cassian had met his mate. Nesta, Feyre's sister. Azriel was very happy for him, very happy that his brothers had found their life mates and that he could realize the good they brought into their lives. But there was a huge shadow that haunted him, beyond the darkness he carried with him, and it had much to do with the guilt of not being able to find and deliver his mate from suffering. He no longer knew how much time had passed. His shadows stirred restlessly every day, with every memory, with every gale.

Azriel sighed when he felt Cassian's hand on his left shoulder, as they both stood watching Velaris from the top of a mountain.

“I don't know what to do anymore, Cassian,” Azriel let out, his shoulders slumping under the pressure and stress.

He usually didn't talk about the subject of his mate with his brothers, not as often as someone would think to be so close. It was something Azriel held close to his heart and wanted to resolve on his own, but so many failures were beginning to weigh him down.

Cassian patted his shoulder and then gave it a squeeze, trying to silently comfort him, though he knew that would do little to soothe the clamor in his soul. Because, though the bond hadn't snapped for Azriel, he could well believe that he had had it tugging at his chest in an unfamiliar direction for months now. Even if he didn't feel the bond, the mere acknowledgement of its existence was agony, especially when it didn't help him find his mate.

Cassian sighed beside him, letting a few seconds pass in silence before speaking again, his gaze fixed on Velaris' expanse and his heart shrinking at the visible suffering on his brother's face.

“Rhysand is traveling to the camp, will you accompany us?”

Azriel lately had little desire for anything other than touring Velaris and the surrounding area of the Court of Nightmares looking for his mate, but this time he decided to accept. For some reason, Azriel decided to accompany them.

The Night had been feuding with the Summer for a couple of years. Tarquin and Rhysand… were not on the best of terms. The last time Feyre had traveled to the Summer, pregnant with Nyx, Tarquin and his army had held her captive because of a misunderstanding in the information they had obtained from the Spring Court and the Mortal Lands. Rhysand almost destroyed the entire Summer Court with his bare hands if not for Cassian and Azriel, who were able to broker a deal between the two as mediators. It was a very tense time at the beginning.

Mind you, Rhysand did not leave without letting Tarquin know that it would be years before they would return to the same trade, diplomatic and friendly relations as before, if they could ever speak of forgiveness. Azriel remembered how the only person from the Night Court who could cross Tarquin's lands, for a time, was Mor. They were all warned and the meetings of the high lords were suspended, at least with respect to attendance.

For that reason, Rhysand became extremely wary of anyone connected with the Summer Court and for him, being the high lord, it was not too much work to know who wandered near his lands. They had already captured a handful of Summer Court spies in recent years and held them captive in camp with the Ilyrian soldiers.

Of course, the Night Court was much more careful with their spying, having Shadowsinger himself on their side. Azriel had visited the Summer Court a couple of times by stealth, handing Rhysand reports and any strategic breakthroughs he could decipher.

There was one, however, that they could not foresee. Someone Azriel never knew was coming out of the Summer Court. It had been a couple of years since then and it seemed the Ilyrians had been unable to break the spy's stone will.

“Are you going all the way to the mountain?” Rhysand had stopped in front of Azriel as soon as his feet touched the grassy ground, a few feet from the entrance to the camp. His eyes flicked briefly to the bustle behind his high lord, his shoulders tensing unconsciously as he took slow steps towards Rhysand with his hands in the pockets of his tunic and his wings tucked neatly behind his back. Cassian landed behind him, kicking up a layer of wet grass and mud that soiled his boots.

“Argh.”

“I think I'll be at a distance this time.”

Rhysand nodded, with no intention of convincing Azriel to accompany him to give the imprisoned spies of the Summer a death scare.

“I hope the screams are worth this mudslinging,” Cassian spoke up, moving closer to his two friends, forming a small circle. Rhysand barely gave him a glance before turning on his heels and beginning to make his way to the entrance of the camp, where some of the soldiers were clustered to see the high lord. “You're going to be in the bay?”

“Yes,” Azriel walked alongside Cassian, scowling at the entrance through which Rhysand had just crossed, the Ilyrian soldiers freezing in front of their high lord. “I'll watch from afar. Right now I don't have the stomach for anything.”

“I understand, brother,” Cassian squeezed his shoulder again amicably, sending him a tight-lipped look. Cassian was quite good with words, despite many labeling him as insensitive for being Ilyrian, but he knew Azriel well enough to know when he wanted to talk about something and when he preferred not to. “See you then.”

Cassian followed in Rhysand's footsteps, approaching in long strides, while Azriel paused watching his companions disappear into the distance.

Sighing, the knot in his chest tightened. It was so strange to have a void that could feel so many things. Azriel often wondered how it was possible that he still didn't feel the bond, when his emotions had expanded out of his head and there was no longer a feeling he didn't sense inside his bones.

Flapping his wings to take flight, Azriel set off towards the bay, close to the cliff where Rhysand planned to take the Summer Court spies. He was a few yards away, close enough to make out figures, but not too far away that he couldn't hear the screams.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, damp despite the early rising sun, his shadows began to stir around him, restless. They must've sensed his nervousness, the anxiety that ran through his chest like electric currents to his fingertips, causing him to spasm and break out in a cold sweat. Azriel could barely see them moving around him, separating from his body and stirring on the ground just a few centimeters before turning back.

At the top of the cliff he could already make out the figures of Rhysand and Cassian, walking menacingly towards the inmates, leaving them no choice but to keep walking backwards until they fell into the void, where Cassian would then land them, one by one. Azriel could hear them if he wanted to, but his mind and his shadows kept him a bit distracted.

He barely made out the first screams and the sound of Cassian's wings when his shadows began to whisper, much more restless.

Close.

Close.

Help.

Fear.

Help.

Azriel raised his head and his eyes stopped just short of Rhysand's figure in front of about three spies. At that moment, Azriel's shadows took off, moving at great speed across the grass and stones, with the Shadowsinger unable to do anything to stop them, though he tried. His confused gaze swept over the small figures on the cliff, with such speed that his head was beginning to ache, but he couldn't recognize anything.

He was about to fly in the direction his shadows had gone, when a strange, overwhelming sensation, somewhere between irrational fear and deep sadness, sent his back to the ground moving across his chest, as one of the figures slipped and fell into the void. Azriel felt all the air stolen from his lungs, opening his mouth to try to catch his breath, as those sensations coursed through his entire body and settled in his chest, taking strong root as if they belonged there. They were so overwhelming that they caused him physical pain. The ache he must've been feeling for months.

The bond.

The few remaining shadows beside him whispered endlessly.

Help.

Help.

Help.

Azriel raised his head, breathing hard. He felt his chest split open, as if with great force they were breaking his sternum to pull out his heart. It was such an overwhelming and painful sensation that, but for his strong will, he would surely have lost consciousness.

Help.

Help.

Mate.

Mate.

Azriel thought afterwards that he had never moved so fast or with such force as that moment, when he realized what was happening. The adrenaline that coursed through his body, even feeling electric currents run through him from head to toe from the precise moment he felt the bond, didn't allow him to think too much about how the air hurt his eyes because he already knew exactly where he had to go. He had spent so much time flying without direction, walking the wrong paths and searching in empty places. At that moment, when he had a reason and a direction, Azriel couldn't think of anything else. He didn't want to.

He could only look at the figure falling off the cliff from the moment he raised his head. He could only head blindly towards it. The overwhelming fear that threw him backwards was the fear she felt as under her feet she felt the void, her hands moving forward trying to hold on to something that would allow her to live.

Azriel felt like he was about to die with her.

He met Cassian halfway from afar, who seemed to be about to fly in her direction to catch her when he ran into his friend, but Azriel moved too quickly and with anticipation without losing sight of his mate. The chill that ran through his body could've paralyzed him with fear, but how could he stand by and do nothing when his mate was falling to her undisputed death.

He thought he heard Rhysand's scream. Surely it was so, but in his mind there hovered only the thought that he must reach her, he must get there in time. Her hands were outstretched and Azriel stretched out his hands, hoping that would help him move faster.

Mind blank, Azriel felt like he had just pulled his head out of the water, his chest opening in an unfamiliar thrill as his body felt the warmth of his mate's body crashing against him and his arms wrapped around her in a promise to never let go again. His wings wrapped around her immediately after his arms, impacting a few seconds later against the muddy ground.

He was too close to not catch her. The thought left him breathless.

For a moment, he only heard his and her labored breathing, with the whistling of the wind through the trees and the movement of the water of a stream a few feet away. For a moment, Azriel went completely blank. Whether he was there or dreaming, he didn't know.

His hands clamped tightly around her arms, encircling her entire back, feeling the reality of what had happened sink in on him bit by bit. Fear gripped him once more then, considering that there was a chance he hadn't been there to stop that. To prevent it.

He didn't want to move. Still adrenaline coursed through his body and he was so alert that he could clearly hear the voices of his friends in the distance. Seconds later, when he heard their wings, he finally moved.

Azriel met your eyes and with that look alone he knew you had felt the bond as well.

“I'm sorry,” was all Azriel could think of, his eyes crystallizing, voice breaking. “I'm so sorry.”

You were transfixed. Azriel felt you looking at him with fear and that motivated him to move away from your body, but you gripped his arms tightly to hold him in place.

Azriel felt a great heaviness in his chest as he examined your face and what he saw did not please him at all. Guilt swelled on his shoulders, a great weight that ascended with each passing second and he could hardly imagine all that you had had to go through in that camp. You were right under his nose and he couldn't find you. What kind of a partner was he to let all that happen?

When he heard the footsteps of his friends, his shoulders tensed. But it didn't go unnoticed the way you also became aware of their presence and let go of his arms, rushing to hug yourself as you moved to sit behind Azriel. scared. Still breathing rapidly, Azriel sent a warning look. Cassian and Rhysand stopped a short distance away, noticing the obvious hostility emanating from their friend's body, but Rhysand just stopped for a second.

“Azriel, what the fuck?”

Rhysand was so angry that he seemed to have a little red tinge over his face. Good, he was angry, maybe then Azriel wouldn't feel so bad about breaking his face.

“Rhys,” Cassian frowned, quickly picking up on the tense and hostile atmosphere around him. He grabbed the arm of his high lord, who jerked angrily and turned his gaze back to the Shadowsinger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you aware of what you just fucking did?”

“Rhysand,” Cassian stopped his high lord, raising his voice and holding his arm tightly this time.

Rhysand turned to look at him with a frown and it seemed that, through his mind, Cassian spoke to him. The next time Rhysand looked back at him, his expression was unclenching, but Azriel stood stone-faced in front of you, his hands clasped at his sides and ready to face anything.

“No way,” was all Rhysand muttered, moving to run his hands through his hair.

Azriel felt one of your hands on his back, his senses splitting in half to try and attend to you as he kept an eye on his brothers on the other side. He moved his head to look at you, your frightened expression trying to hide you from Cassian's curious eyes.

“Is this real?”

Azriel felt his heart crumple. Tears welled behind his eyes and burning hurted the back of his throat. He wanted to say so many things, apologize for a million other things, but in that moment he only responded, moving to squeeze your hand:

“It's real.”

[imistyou2]

Tummy bulge. c.sb

pairing: switch!Soobin x Noona!reader

warnings: sex. like that's about it. sub! soobin, a lil dom! soobin if u squint. basically switch lol. MINORS DNI!

summary: Your usually obedient junior, Soobin succumbs to his biological tendencies when he sees what his cock does to your body.

This is part 2.1, you can read it as a stand-alone too

series masterlist

_

Lately, you've been more encouraging when it came to having sex with Soobin. What started off with his pleading moans and teary eyes from the first time you guys had sex turned into something frequent. Something ravishing. He would see the hungry look in your eye as your hands would snake around the nape of his neck during your shared classes. Pointy fingers massaging his skin and you inched your body closer and closer to him to the point where your breasts pressed plush against his bicep. It was a tale-tell sign that you wanted him, wanted his cock, the very thought sending the younger man into a mental frenzy.

Soobin's cock was no joke, you had made sure to verbalize this over many instances. From raving about the size to teasing him and getting him to blush red to ultimately rolling your eyes into the back of your socket when his thick girth enters your slicked-up pussy.

The tip of his cock had a velvety texture, shaped like a mushroom, growing red and pulsing tenderly as you played with his nipples or kissed his neck, sometimes even talking dirty to him, reminding him of what a loser freak he is. Oh, Soobin loved it when you did that, he would do anything to fall into your submission and let you play with him however you pleased. With the increase of sex, Soobin's grown bolder, fiercer with his strokes.

You usually played with his head as he would gently pry open your insides, thrusting in softly to match your breathing before increasing the pace on your voice of command. The grip on his black locks would tighten as his cock fully entered you, even with all your slickness, the stretch was a bit deafening before his rhythmic thrusts and desperate moans would drown out the slight pain.

He would keep his eyes closed, head tilting back from the sheer feeling of your gummy walls, but one time his eyes peeked open amidst his ecstasy and he saw the expression on your face. Despite your dominating attitude, your face curled into a look of pure bliss from his cock, a thin string of drool lolling from the side of your bitten lips. Soobin's heart somersaulted in his chest before his gaze peered down.

Holy shit. A distinct bulge appeared in your abdomen every time his cock thrust inside. His eyes widened tenfold, mouth agape from what he was seeing. He couldn't believe it was him making his noona like that- all needy and whiny and bulgey. He's so used to your bold attitude and as much as he loved that, he didn't mind seeing your softer and submissive side from time to time. Without waiting he would increase his pace, rocking into your cunt with great speed.

"AHHH~~ Soobin what the fuck. When did I ever say you could go that fast?!"

"Fuck, Noona you feel that?" He placed his long fingers around the bulge, trying to cup it as his hips stammered. He was close and seeing your body stretch like this for him didn't help. "Noona, am I making you feel good? Look at the way my cock's stretching you Noona, look at that bulge."

Your eyes looked forward to seeing where his hand was and as a matter of fact, there was a huge indentation, something trying to protrude out from your lower belly. Your cunt grows wetter from the thought of his cock rearranging your insides so deliciously. His hips pound into you, intense concentration to make you cum from his cock alone.

"Shit,shit, shit just like that, make your noona cum, Soobie. Yeahhh."

You reach your climax and so does him, painting the insides of his condom with the thick liquid. With a few more thrusts, his hips slow down as his sweaty head falls past your shoulder and onto the pillows. His hips still keep working, rolling slowly but not stopping. This was a different version of Soobin from what you have seen in the last four months of being involved with him. You've gotten to know he's a fast learner, adapting himself to your liking and what makes you feel the best.

"What has gotten into you today Choi Soobin, doing things when your noona hasn't even told you to?"

His head turns to the side, facing you. He gives a coy smile as you raise your brow in amusement. His lips curl, "Just saw how I made you feel and couldn't stop myself, Noona."

"Oh, stop-!"

You both burst into giggles, not before you've pinched his sides lightly and he yelps out, "Sorry ma'am, won't do again! Hahaha!"

Well, you certainly won't mind this side of Soobin again, you can't wait to see what more riles him to take charge like he did today.

-

a/n: unedited per usual :) tummy bulge + soobin is like water at 3 am.

[kisseobie]

can you do piwons first reaction to seeing u naked 🥹🥹 i love ur work btw🫶🫶

p1harmony’s reaction to seeing you naked the first time

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: yes i can! sorry for getting to this so late :(

𓆉𓇼 keeho

definitely a hands on kind of guy, but his touch doesn’t work in silence! i imagine he’d want to undress you himself when you give him the news that you’re ready to enter the intimate stage of your relationship now. he’s kissing you throughout all of it, greedy hands unable to resist plucking off each article of clothing you adorn, one by one. for every piece of garment he pulls off of your body, he’s sweetly asking you “is this okay?”, and making eye contact with you so he can easily read any sign of discomfort in your eyes. once you’re finally bare for him to see, he’s definitely going to jump to kiss you everywhere. i think he’d be super sweet about it, especially when he’s lathering you in praises like “you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen”.. after you two have had sex he’s giving you the sweetest treatment as aftercare, cleaning you up, feeding you, and then laying you down and thanking you for trusting him.. such a sweetie pie tbh! definitely prioritizes your comfort and pleasure, makes you feel safe enough to communicate any of your doubts or needs with him, he’s just such a perfect lover and in this scenario that’s no different <3

𓆉𓇼 theo

taeyang would probably be a little more handsy and a little less vocal. i think he’d be very eager, and would lose his composure a bit. in his head, when he fisted his cock to the imagination of being able to see and touch you bare, he always imagined himself as very dominant and collected, but when he actually is greeted with the sight of your naked frame, he’s hitching his breaths and losing his sanity. i think he’s the type to kiss you silly all over your body, paying special attention to your tits (theo tit lover forever!). would leave marks, and honestly worships your nude body with little pecks for a long enough time to be met with you impatiently maneuvering his mouth to line up with your pussy. he just wants to take his time with you when he first sees you naked, and although he doesn’t say much, his insistence to leave a kiss, lick, and bite mark on each and every spot of your skin is enough for you to understand how thankful he is for the sight. if you get shy from his gaze and try covering up with your hands, he’s pulling them away gently and looking at you in the eyes while saying “you’re so beautiful. don’t hide from me, please.” ….. I’M SO WEAK FOR HIM…

𓆉𓇼 jiung

so full of love and praise. ji is the type of boyfriend to be so cautious of your feelings when it comes to not only intimacy, but general confidence and body image as well. as a man with many boundaries, especially pertaining to physical touch, his biggest goal in a relationship is to never cross yours, in the same way you’re so cautious to cater to his. when you eventually gather up the level of trust and courage to reveal your bare self to him, his mouth is oozing with compliments that do nothing but encourage the pink dusting your cheeks. is so smiley and so lovestruck, it’s impossible to not feel confident and lusted after in front of him, he makes sure of it. is more of a groper than a kisser, because he’d rather occupy his mouth with words that tell you just how much he loves the sight in front of him :P if you strip in front of him the first time, he’s definitely gonna lean back on the bed frame, putting his hands over his head with a dopey grin on his face.. imagining black haired ji watching me like this oh i just creamed at the thought… and when he finally touches you? his calloused fingers would feel so good against your velvety skin..

𓆉𓇼 intak

personally i can see intak melting into slush the first time you decide to bless him with the sight of you, completely nude. is asking you right away if he can touch you, but not without stuttering a bit and shaking nervously. tak is such a good boy, and he, like jiung, would be very keen on worshipping your bare body from head to toe. i know i always write intak as a pussy eater—and he is!!—but in this specific scenario i can’t shake the idea from my mind of you, fully naked, smirking as you sit your knees in front of your boyfriend on your shared bed to suck him off. he’d probably lose his fucking mind. will absolutely pout at you if you deprive him the pleasure of feeling you up until you finally allow him to do so. if he knows you’re a bit shy or insecure about your body, he’s sure to snap out of his lovesick daze to properly convey how much this means to him, and how he get get used to this sight of you. he’s just so in love, and it’s evident in the way he physically cannot stop himself from trying to get closer to you, until your bodies are so close they seem almost connected as one.

𓆉𓇼 soul

i always write shota as perverted, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t sweet! in fact, i think he’d be one of the sweetest ones out of the group, especially when you both decide to be intimate and you show him your bare body. he, like jiung, is very in tune with his own emotions, and understands how nervous and vulnerable you must feel when stripping in front of his eyes for the first time. if you hesitate a bit with the last piece of clothing, he’s looking up at you with big eyes and whispering “let me? please?” .. and how can you say no to him, especially when he’s being so kind? probably gasps out loud when he sees your pretty tits, and can’t help himself from reaching his hands out and kneading at the flesh. he’s very reassuring and makes sure to strip in front of you as well as soon as possible so you aren’t as embarrassed. shota probably would kiss you everywhere, from your eyelids to your ankles to your tummy. not very vocal but he hums into your skin a lot, the vibrations tickling you and making you giggle.. he’s so sweet about it and prioritizes your comfort over anything else :(

𓆉𓇼 jongseob

soooo fucking boyish and inexperienced. it’d be his first time ever seeing anyone but himself naked (porn and anatomy class excluded, obviously), and he wouldn’t know where to look. would be a bit afraid about making you feel uncomfortable, especially since he got hard embarrassingly quick. you’d have to take the reigns this first time, and i imagine you’d probably find his shyness to be really cute.. and if you toy with him a little and pull off your clothes realllll slow he’s whining out load and sweating profusely. once your bare you’d crawl onto his lap and he’d try to avert eye contact.. but kiss him and he’s kissing you back with so much want it’s a bit ridiculous. would break off the kiss to ask “can i please touch you?”, and if you responded with a yes, seob would waste no time in kissing your neck and pawing at your boobs. he’s panting so heavily you’d think he was the one being pleasured. when he descends his face and is eye-level to your cunt he’s practically drooling. wastes no time to devour you and figure out exactly what you like.. oh and please pull his hair, it would make him sob in pleasure :3

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @fayeloveseverything @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

꩜𓍯𓂃

[wwinterwitch]

cowboy like me — coriolanus snow

summary: it takes one to know one. you and him were exactly alike, which explains why you were inevitably drawn to each other

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tags: you can't fix him you're as awful as him, being delusional together, fluff??? (not really but u guys are in love and happy and married), mentions of/implied murder and being bad people, romanticizing everything

notes: idk where i was going with this i just had this idea in my head and taylor inspired me to write it. i'm also absolutely feral for young!snow it's not even funny at this point, i needed to find ways to cope lmao

i'd really appreciate a comment or reblog if you enjoy my work.

masterlists | read on ao3

A smile appears on your face the second you feel a hand on your lower back, turning around to meet your husband's loving gaze.

He stands directly in front of you, staring down at you in a way that to this day makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, like you're nothing but a teenage girl who's unlucky enough to have developed a blinding crush on a guy too charming for his own good— the thought of it makes you feel almost nostalgic, looking back at the early stages of your relationship.

Coriolanus Snow has always been a familiar face. Growing up together, you two have known each other for ages. You might've interacted a few times, but nothing beyond brief conversations between classmates.

You had a boyfriend at the time. A much too sweet and caring guy that made the big mistake of falling irrevocably in love with you. In all fairness, it was hard for him not to trail behind you like a lost puppy all the time when you were so good at making foolish boys believe you were the girl of their dreams.

Love is not a word you would use to describe your relationship. He was tolerable and clearly obsessed with you, so it made sense for you to stay with him. He learned with time that buying you very expensive gifts would get you to pay more attention to him, so that became his way of showing his affection for you.

In his mind this was perfectly reasonable. His girl likes being spoiled, so that's exactly what he did. The adoration for you blinded him enough to ignore the truth: you're just sticking around for the money. Some people warned him you were bad news, but you always managed to find a way to make him worship you all over again. Maybe you could've felt sorry for him at some point...if only he didn't have such good taste to pick things out for you.

But then Coriolanus happened. You started to notice him more and more until you inevitably started having feelings for him. How could you not fall for a guy like him? Especially after he started his quick ascend as one of the best Game makers in history.

Maybe it was the way he so fervently claimed his interest in you, willing to pursue you even when your boyfriend was still in the picture. Or perhaps it had to do with his growing popularity and power. After all, you can't deny how attracted you are to guys with ambition.

And Coriolanus is not exactly sure what made him fall for you either. There's many things he loves about you, that's for sure, but he can't say which came first. Was it your captivating beauty and intelligence, or the news that you recently became the only heir to one of the wealthiest families in the Capitol?

Whatever force pulled the two of you together, it really doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that he loves you with every fiber of his being, willing to do whatever is in his power to make sure you're happy (and what isn't, he'll do anything to get). And you love him too, of course, offering him a companionship he always craved— undying fidelity, the purest honesty and understanding.

You've never once judged him for being who he is. If anything, you seem to admire his strength to do whatever it takes to secure his place in society. No one has ever been this loving and accepting, almost encouraging him to be as determined as ever to get the two of you on top.

Whatever he did or didn't do is already in the past. Why should the past matter? Shouldn't you enjoy the present with your loving and successful husband? Be proud of the work the two of you have done to get where you are?

No, the past is gone. It already happened. There’s no need to look back at things you can't change and decisions you can't take back. It all brought you here. Every tiny little decision led the two of you to this moment; married, in love, happy, powerful. It was meant to be like this.

He didn't seem to mind about your own past either. Any other person would've judged you for the difficult decisions you had to make in order to become the wealthiest woman in all of Panem. You've seen it in the face of ex friends and lovers. They never understood your hunger for what you so rightfully deserve.

Good things don't happen to people because they're good. They happen because you make them happen. You fight, you take, you conquer. It's what life is, and it's something you and Coriolanus understand perfectly. That's why the two of you make sense. Why it feels so right to be together. You understand him and he understands you— understands you like no one else has in your entire life.

It was him the one who held you that night when you just couldn't hold it in anymore, and he sat with you while you cried and cried about your beloved sister, because even after all those years you still missed her and wished things could've been different.

If only your parents made it easier for you. They shouldn't have played favorites from the moment you were born. And they really shouldn't mess with something as important as inheritance. It's your goddamn birthright! How could they be so cruel to you? If they corner you against the wall with no apparent way to escape, it was a matter of time before you decided to stand your ground.

It's a shame your poor sister had to suffer the consequences, though. You really do love her...

Coriolanus couldn't judge you even if he tried. He could see himself in your tear-filled eyes and hear his own inconsolable sobs through your voice. It took him back to a particularly difficult point in his life where he had to make a similar choice.

He pours his heart out to you as he holds you tight against his body, revealing all the unfortunate things he was forced to do because it's all that was left. An act-or-die situation that kept repeating itself until he had no other choice but to do the unspeakable. What else was he supposed to do? What else were you supposed to do?

The regret in his voice is evident, and you know he does regret it because he’s a good person with a heart of gold. One of the best people you’ve ever met in your life. He’s good, and brave, and passionate…enough to sacrifice what he loves if the circumstances require that of him. Not many people have the privilege to claim to be as great as him.

"You did what you had to," your voice came out in a soft whisper, still affected by your sudden outburst with the thought of your sister engraved deep inside your brain. At the time you thought you were trying to ease his conscience, but maybe your statement was falling from your lips in a weak attempt to ease your own inner conflict too. "Life has been so unfair to us, Coriolanus. Is it too bad that we want just a little bit of peace?"

He stays quiet for a bit, stroking your hair in hopes to bring you some comfort as he processes your hopeless, pain-filled statement. That's probably the hardest thing about loving you; caring so much that he cannot possibly function if he knows you're hurting, and cursing himself for not being able to take that pain away. 

"We'll have peace," he eventually assures you. His voice is soft, yet fiercely determined. There's no room for discussion. He'll make it happen for the two of you. What's a few more difficult choices when he's so far gone now? When he knows it has worked perfectly before and it made all his dreams come true?

In that moment, snuggled up to his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, it was clear. That sense of familiarity you only get when you look back in the mirror, or when you quickly scan a room when someone speaks your name. He has suffered as much as you. He knows what it's like to be mistreated in life, and how difficult it is sometimes to live with the fact that you had to leave people behind to finally taste a drop of happiness.

The guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it's easier to remember you had no choice, but other times all you can think about is what life could've been if you weren't forced to take such drastic measures. Perhaps now that you have someone who truly understands, you'll learn to always remember you deserve all you managed to achieve.

When you move back from him to look up into his welcoming and comforting blue eyes, you knew you'd never be alone again. You'll never get to experience this free-fall, soul-consuming feeling with anyone else. And why would you even want to waste your time like that, when you already found the one person who sees the world exactly like you do? 

A love like this is hard to find. Most people spend a lifetime trying to find a love decent enough to make them feel like they're losing their minds. Like the air is missing from their lungs and everything looks much darker when the other is not around. Like they're willing to do anything to make the other happy. Like the fear of being consumed entirely by it is the sweetest of fates.

You thought you could only experience affection in the form of luxurious jewelry, fancy clothing and all that came with the important status your ex boyfriend provided. At one point, you could say you almost needed him. Or least needed his money. He provided a safety net you desperately needed after your stupid parents decided to leave everything to your annoyingly perfect sister.

After becoming the only heir in your family (it really is a shame that your sister was gone so soon, poor thing), your boyfriend was no longer a necessity, but a way of distracting yourself when you needed it. It's not like you're going to refuse his gifts and attention anytime soon, right?

But that was it. The furthest it can get to what being in love should look like. And that was what your relationship with Coriolanus should have been when you decided to make your way into his heart. Never in a million years would you have expected to meet a soul that matches yours in even the tiniest of details, that loves so deeply and cares enough to act like it's required to survive. 

With his arms still surrounding your body in a protective and comforting manner, you knew he’d be the guy you’d spend the rest of your life with. You knew it long before the day he got down on one knee, professing his undying love for you and offering the most beautiful engagement ring you have ever seen in your life. You pledged to always be there for him and, in return, he vowed to give you the world— he'd find a way to reach the night sky and collect every single star for you if that's what you ask of him. You kept each other's deepest secrets like they were your own. Two smart and ambitious people joining together in their search for greatness.

The hand on your lower back now rests against your cheek, tracing your skin in such a delicate manner that it almost makes you shiver. The white rose attached to his impeccable burgundy suit is slightly tilted to the right, fixing it with your hands as soon as your eyes notice that detail.

He smiles wider after your gesture, leaning down to capture your lips in an affectionate kiss to show his gratitude. You wish the moment could last longer, but you know it's impossible to stay behind these walls for longer when there's a loud crowd out there chanting your husband's name.

There's the briefest of interactions when he breaks the kiss, the two of you standing in front of each other with a smile of pure conspiracy— a silent recognition of the work individually done to get here, an unspoken ‘thank you’ to one another for the team effort, and the promise of a never-ending companionship that would only take you higher.

He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours before finally stepping outside to the marble balcony. Before you, a sea of people cheer and welcome the new President and First Lady of Panem.

[lov3-lik3-ghosts]

just read your Rosalie and Emmett fic and it was SO GOODDDDD!!! would u ever write a part 2??

We’ll Haunt You Through The Night, Love Us Whole

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x reader x Emmett Cullen.

Warnings: Not beta nor proofread. Angst!! Part Two to Hearts and Mercy.

Word Count: 386.

Note: Hope you enjoy, lovely!!

| mother m-list

They haunt you through the nights with the force of falling timber.

Through sleep and out they’re everything you are and more, pumping through your heart like the tresses of their stream. The ice cold water is reminiscent of them over your toes, phantom to the run of their fingers through your hair and the brush of their lips over your skin.

The gleam of the crescented moon smooths over the blanket of night in ways that calls them to the forefront of your mind. Rosalie, a dark beauty fogged with horrors and wonders alike, and Emmett, a beacon for all the good left to be had.

You never did have a place between them. Not when they were destined the way they were, written between the laws of the universe.

Your gaze darts to the opposing side of the creek where a bustle of noise sounds over the trickle of water. There’s nothing to see but the ragid bark of the willows shadowed by night and you curse yourself for thinking of them first of all.

You’ll never be free from them with your weeping heart.

You're lost to the skies again when it resounds once more, a large creak and then crack as the largest branch of the tree across the stream thuds to the ground.

The silence that follows it stills the air; broken by a sound too familiar to the ache in your chest.

“Emmett.” She’s angrier than you’ve ever heard her. Her voice is nothing like you remember, your mind never could do her justice. “I told you not to be on the one I was on.”

“Babe, I’m sorry.” His almost hurts more, guilt-riddled like that night. You don’t think they realise you can see them. You’re torn between turning tail and falling apart where you sit.

They choose for you.

Rosalie’s by your side in a breath, porcelain hands ever so close to touching your skin. The tingle sparking through you dies with the drop of her hands to her sides.

Emmett’s no later, inhaling a breath you know he doesn’t need. His shoulders lower, like a weight looses in him. He used to love your scent.

You wonder if he’s missed it before you remember who left who.

You’re sure you’ll think more on it when you wake.

~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~

Likes, comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated and very encouraging!

I do not give permission for my work to be reposted or translated on this site or otherwise!

[hey-august]

March Madness Event - Winner (NSFW | Buggy X Marine!GN!Reader)

Woah woah woah, this story concludes the March Madness event!

(In case you missed it, throughout the month of March I posted polls pitting kinks against kinks. The ones that lost in the polls received short stories involving a bit of failure. The kink that won at the end of the month was slated to receive a proper story. And that's where we are now!)

I'll be honest, I did not expect this to be the winner. Then again, I should have seen it coming with how it took off in every poll it was in.

Thank you all for participating! Voting, reading, commenting, liking, reblogging - everything!!

I hope you enjoyed this event and that you enjoy this story. 🩷

Description: As a Marine, you're responsible for safely escorting the captured prisoner, Buggy the Clown. Things don't go according to plan and while the prisoner remains captured, not all of him ends up behind bars...

Teeny tiny teaser: "This fucker needed to know the effect his dumbass decision had on others."

Word count: ~3.4k (I don't remember the last time I wrote a one-shot this long 🥴)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, marine!reader, no use of Y/N, insertion sex, bit of degradation, cockwarming (not solely intimate, but there is some eventually), misuse of devil fruit powers

“I can fuck you harder if you uncuff me,” he said through gritted teeth. “C’mon, tell me you don’t want that.” 

The teasing remark was hissed behind your ear, sending a shiver through your body. Your weak fucking body, nearly wiped of all self-restraint. A thin thread of rationality kept you tethered to a sense of preservation, but the constant pounding threatened to snap that hold.

You were responsible for locking up the prisoner - a duty you’ve fulfilled many times without issue. Over the years, your strength and cleverness helped you climb the ranks of Marines, yet this was the first time you failed to complete this responsibility. Well, you haven’t failed yet, but the more the thread frays, the more your legs shake, the more his heavy grunts fill your ears…

Your shaky hands gripped the seastone cuffed wrists wrapped around your body. Although the pirate couldn’t grip your hips the way either of you wanted, he was able to pull your body towards his as he relentlessly slammed himself in you. 

Of all the captured criminals you ever escorted, it was the goddamn clown that broke you. The pathetic clown with a face of smeared paint. Left behind by his crew. A captain who was visibly crestfallen when none of the Marines appeared impressed by his presence.

Despite his circumstances, the prisoner - Buggy the Clown - lived up to his namesake. Nearly every comment out of his mouth was a joke, often at the expense of anyone around him. The lack of laughter after each quip should add to embarrassment and pity for the clown, but you found yourself enjoying the amusement he was clearly creating for himself. It was…endearing.

As his sole escort below deck, his attention quickly turned towards you and the warm fluttery feeling you had moved lower in your body. Silence only protected you for so long before your face was too red to ignore, giving the clown encouragement to continue. Changing tactics, Buggy started spouting cheesy and overused pickup lines. Each remark said with unabashed enthusiasm added to the heat on your face.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.” “I’d like to report a crime. My breath was stolen.” “That Marine uniform doesn’t look so bad on you. But it would look better on the floor.”

Those comments were so stupid and worked so well. A few hissed retorts and threats of punishment were disarmed with a charming smile. You had no chance of winning whatever this game was. Secretly, you weren’t sure you wanted to win. There was something alluring about this pirate who tried to hide behind jokes and laughter that you wanted more of.

Arousal easily increases in potency when mixed with other feelings. For you, it was unexpected affection and the lure of degeneracy. For Buggy, you assumed it was the fear and anxiety that comes with imprisonment. Each concoction was perfectly portioned and all it took were choice words, overly-familiar touches, and curious glances for the poison to take effect.

Alone in the room, it only took seconds to pull your pants low enough to grant Buggy access. You leaned forwards, steadying yourself against the wall, while he grabbed the lower hem of your top. His thrusts were erratic and sloppy as he tried to find a decent pace. There was barely enough time for this moment of guilty indulgence and you both wanted as much from it as possible.

Bringing his bound hands overhead, Buggy pulled you close to his chest until you were wrapped in his hold. With his hands closer to your hips, he was able to move both of your bodies at a quick tempo. He was rewarded with a whine that escaped your heavy breathing.

“S’that how you like it? Hard and rough? I didn’t expect you to be so fucking filthy. Do all your prisoners get welcomed like this?”

Fuck. Why did his voice sound so good? And why did it sound better saying such degrading shit?

You shook your head and leaned into his touch, wanting to feel more. “Sh-shut up. Don’t you ever stop talking?”

“You d-don’t want that,” Buggy groaned. “I can feel your body squeeze when I talk. You like it.” His teasing was met with a delicious whimper.

Every word from his mouth had your head spinning. You wanted so much more. You wanted to taste his voice, to feel his mouth against yours, to feel his lips on your skin, but he wore that stupid face paint. You wanted his touch everywhere, for his hands to roam your body, for him to hold you tighter, but he needed to keep the cuffs on. Buggy was a Devil Fruit user. He was dangerous. And he was breaking you down.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Buggy started describing all the ways he wanted to screw you. How good you are at taking him. He wants to hear how good he makes you feel. Lost in the haze of lust, you barely remembered pulling out the key you wore on a chain and had tucked under your clothes. Your palm ached from how tightly you gripped the key while fighting against the horny instincts crowding your body.

You were so close, so achingly close. Maybe if you timed it right, it would be okay. You could minimize the danger. That makes sense, right? It could work. The wisp of rational thought faded away so softly that you didn’t miss its absence.

“Please,” was all you could get out as you unlocked the cuffs and let them fall to the floor.

It was like you released a feral animal with that decision. You didn’t realize just how much the seastone had sapped from Buggy until you felt his bruising grip as he brutally slammed his hips into yours. Even his cock seemed to get harder as it was bullied deeper in your body. He struggled to stay quiet, grunting like a wild boar as he rut into you.

You were on the edge of the precipice, ready to throw yourself over the ledge, when a horrible sound yanked you back to solid ground. A piercing siren sound filled the ship, signaling the top of the hour and a change in duties. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You needed to finish your job before anyone found out what you were doing. Who you were doing.

In a panic, you elbowed the pirate and spun around. “They’re gonna catch us,” you said with wide-eyes.

With all his blood below the belt, Buggy was already caught off-guard by the loud noise. Your rapid change from a whimpering needy thing who needed to be railed, to a Marine who wanted to follow the rules was a lot for the pirate to follow after losing the trail of his own orgasm. All he could do was struggle to pull up his pants as you shoved him into the jail cell and locked him in. Thoughts slowly returned to his head and weakness seeped back into his body as he watched you fix up your uniform before freezing.

“What the fuck did you do?” The question started as a shout before you restrained the rest of your temper.

“I wanted to make sure you come back for me,” Buggy responded with a wink. “Besides, we didn’t get to finish. I figured you could keep it warm for me until the encore.” He reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants, which was baggier than it should be.

“Are you fucking ser-” The rhetoric question was stopped by the throbbing in your body. 

Between your body fully accepting the rough fuck and the whirlwind of anxiety about being caught, you didn’t notice that Buggy left you with a piece of himself. Of all the things he could have done with his Devil Fruit powers in that moment, rather than doing something, anything, that could help him escape, the clown chose to part from his dick. What a fucking joke.

---

It was a sunny day with just enough of a breeze to keep the sails full and to blow away excess heat from the sun. The gentle wind helped dry the perspiration on your skin as you crossed the deck, towards the meeting room. While the air carried away some of the physical evidence, your body still burned and you chose to believe the unrelenting heat was shame. Punctual attendance was critical on the ship and you couldn’t even spare a few minutes to evict the pirate’s privates without risking a penalty.

With each step, you felt the fullness between your legs and the stretch from his girth. You couldn’t remember what it meant to walk normally. Every movement was over thought and analyzed. What felt normal made your core feel too tight against the intrusion. Longer strides had you worry that he might slip out. While it seemed unlikely (all of this was unlikely already), you worried about losing this bit of Buggy. There would be no reasonable way to explain a lone penis anywhere on the ship.

As hard as you tried to be upset with Buggy’s stupid horny decision, your body was still flooded with hormones that drowned logic and only allowed obscene thoughts to float. You were deep in a fucked up situation and you were enjoying it.

You arrived just in time for the meeting to start. It was a daily check-in where attendees would recite numbers and metrics that meant nothing to you. It was important and wholly unnecessary. The returning sheen of sweat and lingering redness on your face could be excused as the hustle needed to arrive on time and not the throbbing you felt inside. 

Settling into one of the open chairs, you couldn’t find a position that was remotely comfortable. There was minimal padding on the wood chairs and the backrests were at an awkward height that provided no support. Leaning too far one way pushed Buggy further inside and you just barely concealed the discovering gasp as a deep breath. 

Crossing your legs was a terrible idea, as it only added to the unforgiving pressure. The sensation attacked you both, as you felt the confined cock flex in its warm prison. You quickly uncrossed your legs, glad no one could see how they shook under the table.

Wicked voices began whispering to you, talking over the droning presentation at the head of the table. You couldn’t find any reprieve from what you were feeling. The only thing that made you feel better was giving in. You could afford to let your mind drift, this meeting was only to make others feel important. You had your own feelings to deal with.

Your mind wandered down to where those feelings radiated from. To the frustrating ache between your legs. Buggy was a good length, on the longer end of average, but his thickness was far more than average. Thankfully he got you so riled up earlier and all you had to suffer through was a burn that he quickly fucked away. Your body had grown accustomed to the wideness, but being held open for so long was different. Even through the uniform, you felt exposed. With each twitch from your hole as it fruitlessly tried to find some give against the occupant, you fell apart a little more. 

You shifted in the chair again, cautiously rolling your hips with the movement. Just once. And then again, under the guise of trying to get comfortable. Fuck, that did feel good. Your body shifted against Buggy’s member just right. You tensed against him, chasing that sensation, and receiving a heavy throb in response.

Your name broke through the fog you willingly got lost in. Your eyes snapped to the man standing at the head of the table.

“Is there something more important than going over these reports?” 

Maybe your movements weren’t as subtle as you thought.

“No, Sir. Just trying to get comfortable. I apologize for the distraction.” You spoke loudly, overriding the quiver hiding in your throat. 

Buggy was reacting to the jolt of tension that ran through our body. Clenched fists pressed into your knees and your toes curled in the little space available in your boots as you rode out his movement. It was incredibly frustrating and absolutely embarrassing. So why did it feel so fucking good?

---

The rest of the meeting ended without further incident. At least, as far as any of the attendees cared. For you, every action and reaction from either of your linked bodies felt like a whole new event to survive. You offered a tight lipped smile to everyone as they left the room, preferring a small audience when you attempted to use your weak legs. Luckily, horniness and adrenaline held you up and supported you out of the room.

The infirmary was a few doors down and it was around the time the doctor took a break. If you were lucky, the room would be empty and you could put an end to this. The luck was debatable when you opened the door to two pale faces. One belonged to the Marine who was on guard duty and the other belonged to the prisoner being guarded. A prisoner who offered you a small smile that matched the one painted on his face.

The guard started babbling when you entered the room. “H-he doesn’t look good, r-right? I brought him h-here, but they’re all on break. I’m wor-worried he’s gonna upch- upchu-ugh, pu- v- vom-”

“Get sick?”

The guard nodded with pursed lips, struggling to hold back the hiccups and sympathetic heaves that wracked their body. “Doesn’t seem ser-serious enough to call the med-ugh medics b-back.”

You looked at Buggy, trying to assess what was going on. Was this a ploy or was he actually ill? Were you going to get sick? 

“It doesn’t look that serious. I can stay with him. Why don’t you go lie down?” Your offer was accepted before you even finished speaking. 

The infirmary door closed, leaving you and Buggy in an awkward silence. He sat in a chair, hunched over, still giving you a weak smile.

“Are you okay? Is it bad?” You asked, concerned that his flashy self seemed to be affected. Crouching down, you brought yourself closer to his level.

“Bad,” he repeated hoarsely, leaning towards you. 

His trajectory would bring his painted forehead to the white shoulder of your uniform, so you intercepted. Pressing your head against his, you waited for Buggy to continue. 

“N-need you. Made a bad decision, need you, please.” One of his cuffed hands pawed at the empty space where his dick should be. 

With his strength and stamina taken away during imprisonment, Buggy’s self-inflicted secondary imprisonment was too much. He could feel everything - how your body continued to struggle around him, how warm you were inside, how you reacted to his involuntary cries and demands for more. It felt so fucking good, so deliriously wonderful, and downright torturous.

There was no end in sight, though. There had to be a reason you kept him inside, so even if Buggy could come, it would be followed with overstimulation that could go for who knows how long. Not to mention how upset you would probably be if you were unexpectedly full of his hot cum. 

Buggy whimpered at the thought. At imagining you full and plugged. Of his jizz dripping out and collecting in your underwear. Of you being an absolute fucking mess under your prim and pristine uniform, because of him.

“Please,” he whined again.

You pulled away and locked the door. “We don’t have a lot of time. Again.”

Buggy bit his lip as you held out your hand to help him up and blubbered what sounded like, “thank you.”

You understood how he felt. So insatiable that nothing mattered more than giving into these desperate needs that aggressively grew out of desire. Giving up on everything but chasing the high, you uncuffed Buggy and undid your pants. 

This fucker needed to know the effect his dumbass decision had on others. You shoved his hand down your pants, letting him feel how wildly aroused you were. How much of a mess he made.

His groan was laced with delight and pain at the knowledge. His touch was everywhere, committing all of the evidence of your lust to memory. As his hand crept further, it came in contact with his base and his body jolted at the touch. This was too much.

Yanking his hand out of your pants, Buggy rushed to unbuckle his and expose where his member belonged. Following his lead, you pulled your pants down and turned around. Wary about wasting precious time, Buggy pressed his hips against yours and shuddered when his cock returned to its rightful place. It felt as if his senses increased a hundredfold now that it was back.

“M’close,” he warned, struggling to set a reliable pace. 

Honestly, he was about to explode when his hand was down your pants. But he needed this. He needed to feel you moving on his cock. To feel your body react against him. To feel you explode.

As if reading his thoughts, you grabbed his hand and pushed it down. You didn’t need much. This entire time, you didn’t need much, apparently. Just his attention on you was enough to pull you off the trail you were on. And that’s what he gave you - his enthusiastic attention. 

His hand moved fervently, following the cues your body gave. The touches that had your breaths teeter on moans, pressure that had your body clench his, sensations that increased the tension in your core.

“Uh-haah, uh-huh, just like that. K-keep going, g-gonna… You’re gonna make me c-” You were cut off as the feeling ripped through your body, sharp and electric. The words in your mouth were wiped away as you fell to the indescribable surge.

Buggy huffed as he struggled to fuck through your orgasm. Your unsaid words rung through his head - he was responsible for this. You were shaking beneath him because of what he did. Your sweet sighs of relief were for him.

“Wh-where-” Buggy could hardly stutter a question he should have asked earlier.

“Finish what you started,” you said, leaning into his touch once again.

Feeling your body melt against his, accepting his thick cock so easily, pulling him deeper - that was more than enough.

“F-fucking shit,” Buggy hissed as he came. 

The climax was nearly painful as he shot stream after stream inside your body. Feeling like the release would never end, the pirate clung to you and whimpered with each pulse. Eventually, he ran out. His hold released with a shaky sigh.

Buggy struggled with words to fill the next moment. Something about how this felt good. Maybe a thanks? But before he could decide, yet another loud sound interrupted the moment. A sound that was accompanied by a lurch that threw the pirate back. An explosion. Then came the alarms. The ship was under attack by pirates. You both rushed to fix yourselves up.

“I-I think that’s for me,” Buggy said.

You looked at him incredulously. Was this all a fucking trick?

“I want you to come with me.”

His request kept you silent. This didn’t make sense.

“I didn’t think they were coming. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. But it was fun - well, I had fun. I think you did too. We can keep having fun, unless you want to keep living this stuffy life.” Buggy spoke quickly. 

His explanation was rushed, but you could see a hint of honesty among the turmoil.

Buggy held his hand out for you to grab.

---

Life on a pirate ship was different, but also similar to life with the Marines. Useless meetings couldn’t be avoided and petty drama existed everywhere. But the spirit and passion that came with piracy was unbelievably vast. Joys flew high, parties raged hard, drinks always flowed, treasure was celebrated.

And on Buggy’s ship, there was always more. More life, more color, more light. Dumb jokes, death defying stunts, fantastic skills, and stupid decisions that managed to work out in the end.

One of your favorite things about life aboard the ship were the quiet afternoons you spent with the captain. Afternoons that were spent laying in the shared bed, your body nestled against his. Afternoons full of stories and musings. Afternoons dedicated to the two of you, which you spent slotted together in warmth and intimacy.

[carryonafi]

a little more ‘touch me’.

ashton irwin x reader; SMUT!!! 🔞

a/n: i’m so sorry i haven’t posted in MONTHS but!! don’t forget about me!! this is a little thing i’ve been working on for a while now to mourn the sad sad death of the superbloom era. black hair ash we will never forget u ❤️

enjoy an annoying meet-cute with smut and the super respectful man ashton is :P

words: 2.9k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Someone had definitely given your upstairs neighbor way too much encouragement when it came to pursuing his passions, or simply never told him no. The reason being all you had been hearing for weeks after he moved in was the loud pounding of drums, loud guitar sounds, laughing— it was a nightmare. No matter how much you prayed that the sounds would stop, they never came to an end. The frustration ended up giving you enough confidence one night to deal with this yourself.

How you ended up knocking on your upstairs neighbors door with shark slippers on and pajamas that were definitely way too big, you had no idea. The realization that your confrontation might be dramatic just hit you now, but it was too late to turn back. The handle had already clicked and there was someone staring back at you. A taller guy with thick black hair, a few tattoos exposed with the tank top he was wearing and an equally surprised expression on his face.

He cleared his throat. “Can I… help you?”

Your heart skipped a beat, that accent… was it Australian? There was no way, your cheeks were instantly warmer not just from embarrassment, but how insanely attractive your disruptive neighbor was.

“Yeah, actually— Yeah.” You nodded, clearing your throat as well and crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes gravitated, sparkling in wonder.

“It’s almost midnight, and all I can hear are your drums.” You caught his attention again, he blinked innocently and tilted his head to the side. A loose strand of hair fell in front of his eyes, which he immediately tucked back.

“And..?” He asked, and how he was playing dumb definitely made your temper wire very short.

“And I’m trying to sleep.” You replied in the same obvious tone, appalled he would even ask you to elaborate. “I have work early in the morning, and I’m sure other people do too.”

It clicked for the drummer, his eyes lighting up as he nodded and leaned against the doorframe.

“I see.” He nodded, wetting his bottom lip as if to appear in thought. “Well, this is sorta… my job.”

“I guess that’s where we have a problem.” You raised your eyebrows, almost mirroring his expression.

“This is gonna happen often, isn’t it?” He crossed his own arms, eyes burning straight into yours. You didn’t dare to break this eye contact, even though the forestry adorning his irises was physically causing you chest pains.

He let out a sigh. “As long as it’s you comin’ up here to tell me off, you got your phone on you?” The first few words were nothing but a slight mumble under his breath, but you didn’t care enough to question what he had to say or if you were simply just hallucinating. You nodded in response, reaching for the left pocket of your pajama pants.

“I’ll give you my number, that’ll be easier for both of us.” His eyebrow quirked yet again.

“Mm. Smooth, I guess..” Your response even surprised yourself, as you were opening your phone you could see a smile start to tug at the corners of his lips. He was holding it back, you could tell. Something told you that this solution he offered wasn’t going to do much, if anything this might make your situation worse. That sort of depends on what outcome you consider as being “worse”.

As you got your phone back, the contact in your phone simply read “Ashton” with the standard blank icon. That was such a drummer name, Ashton… you nodded and shoved your phone back into your pocket.

“I’ll make sure to keep it down for you, ‘kay? Bug me if I’m ever too loud.” He assured you, flashing a similar smile to the one you saw earlier. Strangely enough, you smiled back. Ashton eyed your appearance up and down one last time after you bid your “goodnight”s and closed the door quietly with purpose. It worked out, because you definitely got good sleep that night. The next two nights actually weren’t that bad… but the third, he was at it again.

Your head was already pounding, the bass drum or… whatever it was, all of the moving parts started to piss you off again. Ashton did give you his number, and in his words, advised you to bother him.

‘dude. please shut up.’

You slammed your phone back down onto the pillow, facedown. The noise paused for a few seconds, then immediately started again.

‘please oh my god, can you be quiet?’

Once again, your phone went down onto the pillow. It didn’t stop for at least a minute, in fact, it seemed to just get worse. It was all nice when people explored their passions and whatnot, but there came a limit to thinking of those around you. Especially your downstairs neighbor which got each kick of that stupid loud bass drum.

No response during that minute and a half, then the sounds stopped completely. You squinted at the text bubble, appearing then disappearing, then reappearing… finally a response.

‘Come up here and tell me yourself.’

Accompanied by one of those little emoticon smiley faces that you knew was purely passive aggressive, an exasperated sigh left your lips before you even had the chance to leave your bed and process that you were going to do this. Ashton wanted to be told? There wasn’t a doubt that you would be challenged.

Hair still messy, oversized shirt and shorts that were only meant for sleep, you were walking with purpose and frustration through the halls again. It had only been 2 minutes since Ashton sent that text, but you were already knocking on his door. You swore it took him longer to answer than it did for you to get here, but of course, it was a very short amount of time. As soon as the door opened and you were met with his familiar face, bright eyes narrowed at you as he propped the door open, you fired.

“I told you to shut—“

He kissed you. This man swiftly leaned in and pressed the most gentle kiss to your lips he could despite the circumstances, it lasted a hot second. Your eyes were wide open, but his were contently shut before you pulled apart with one of those really satisfying kiss sounds you only heard in movies. Ashton slowly opened his eyes again to see yours staring dead into his, every little detail of his face you could see in a very… strangely intimate way. An angry blush settled on your cheeks.

“What the fuck was that?” You demanded, sounding out of frustration, but the way he had caught you off guard made you slightly defensive.

“Did you not like it?” Ashton replied in a much calmer tone, straightening his posture and he became restless in his own nerves. Shuffling against the floor, twirling his thumbs as he waited for some kind of answer to come from you. All he was getting were a few short huffs of breath.

“I… well, I mean.. it’s— it’s not that I didn’t like it.” You mumbled, your own hands weaving together at an awkward attempt to ease the tension within you. For a moment, you both hesitated. Where should this go, and how? Your answer fueled something in Ashton, you saw the shift in his gaze and the moment that he made up his mind.

He was kissing you again, and you weren’t fighting it. Your hands went to his chest, placed firmly on him as one arm snaked around your waist to bring you into his apartment. Within the short moment, Ashton had turned you around without breaking the kiss to kick his door closed and press your figure against the surface.

“Love seeing a pretty girl like you so fucking pissed off ‘cause of me.” Ashton murmured against your lips, like a desperate plea to tell you how he felt.

“Stop talking…” You breathed, feeling his hands creep lower towards the hem of your sleep shorts and catching in the elastic. His lips moved to your neck, leaving gentle kisses as if he could break you.

One needy whimper from you drove him to use his teeth, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin like he had forgotten his whole gentle act.

“Oh—“ You let out a gasp of surprise, tightly gripping Ashton’s shoulders as you briefly looked around the apartment. Worn black sofa, records hanging above the T.V, miscellaneous items strewn about like pencils, pens, notebooks, earplugs… he wasn’t just playing the drums for fun. It seemed like this guy had a real career. The hallway was a bit darker, but you couldn’t see too much because of those thick black curls obstructing your view. If you were to guess, that’s where the culprit of your sleepless nights were.

However, those ‘black’ curls didn’t seem to be natural. The dirty blond roots of his hair were starting to grow in and it made you smile to yourself, sneakily so Ashton didn’t see your amusement. Learning these little things about him… it felt so sweet.

“You’re blond..?” You breathed, feeling Ashton’s lips halt on your neck before he slowly pulled off of you. He laughed, this fucker. He laughed at you.

“Yes?” He cocked an eyebrow and blinked knowingly.

“Well, your roots. They’re long, y’know? And… You’re really close to me right now, okay?” You blurted out, pure embarrassment all over your face as you flushed and tried to swallow down the feeling of your cheeks turning bright red. Ashton simply stared back at you, stars in his eyes as he pressed another one of the softest, sweetest kisses to your lips like you had been together for years.

“Maybe that’s something you could do for me, yeah? Give me a touch-up.” He mused, rough hands feeling delicate as they traced indescribable shapes on your sides.

“Is that what this is now?” You huffed, still heated from your flustered moment.

“Mm?” Ashton hummed, a non-verbal way to get you to elaborate… but there was nothing. Just scrambled up, useless thoughts as you looked at him and eventually shook your head. He got the hint, starting to kiss you again and eventually moving you to the couch where your legs were on either side of his hips. This felt like an absolute workout, trying to keep yourself contained as he kissed you and the realness of it all finally pressed against you in the form of his erection against your thigh.

“How far?” Ashton whispered, holding you close like you would slip away from him if he let go. There was a sweet, playful glint in his eye.

“Huh?” Your mind was all dazed from how kiss-drunk this was making you.

“How far do you wanna go?” He was a bit more clear for your mind, clearly overwhelmed with dopamine. You still had to blink and process how thoughtful that question was.

“I.. don’t know. Not all the way, I don’t think.” You replied in a more useful tone of voice as well, and this— this you thought, would be the moment Ashton kicked you out because he wasn’t getting what he truly wanted. Although, he just smiled and his hands stroked your thighs.

“I want us both to be happy.” He said genuinely, leaning a bit closer with a hand now braced on the small of your back to keep you steady as he leaned you forward. “And honestly, doing anything to you right now would make me the happiest man in the fuckin’ world.”

God, who was this guy? His admission made your jaw slack with excitement and disbelief, stunned to the point of pure silence as you nodded in understanding. Ashton was still grinning, even more so when he saw the effect his words had on you.

“Would you let me eat you out?” He asked like it was a simple task and not a fantasy, those little ink-patterned freckles in his eyes you could see so clearly… and they were hypnotizing you.

You realized that you needed to say something, nodding and licking your lips since your mouth had gone completely dry. “Y.. Yeah. Yes- please, actually.” You stammered, watching the playful expression on his face grow.

It didn’t take long, Ashton had skillfully laid you down on the couch and kneeled between your legs, pushing your oversized sleep shirt up and kissing his way down your torso.

“Soundgarden? Nice choice…” He mumbled against your skin, nuzzling his nose into your hip appreciatively and the casualty of his words had you laughing in disbelief yet again.

“You’re really cute.” Were just about the only words that could make it past your lips right now, earning a huff of air from Ashton and a gentle bite to your skin. You moaned unashamed, a hand moving into his fauxly black, messy curls and guiding him lower.

He easily tugged your shorts down, gesturing for you to lift your hips so they could be discarded onto the living room floor. Ashton made eye contact with you, a stray lock of hair falling in front of his left eye. However, you could still see that beautiful gaze boring right into yours. Right as he spread your thighs open. You felt the crescent shape of his nails digging into your flesh — but it still seemed so gentle. Ashton leaned forward and pressed the flat of his tongue to your clothed core, causing a needy ache to rock your nerves as you let out a loud whimper.

“I wanna hear you.” He muttered, the low vibration of his rough voice sent shivers down your spine and a ripple of pleasure all throughout your body. Their neighbors heard him enough… it was time for a change.

Ashton was doing the same that he did to your sleep shorts, tugging your panties down in one more swift motion and immediately diving in. He didn’t take a single moment for himself, purely making sure you were basking in pleasure.

It worked, another loud moan tore through your throat and both hands were tangled in his hair. He was working nothing but magic with his tongue, and those sweet pink lips… worshiping you with everything he had in him. Ashton only broke eye contact to blink, feeling prideful in the way that he could make you moan and squirm.

You tried to close your legs from the overstimulation, still moaning, but his grip was too strong on your thighs and he was simply too willing to make you cum. Ashton was so attentive, occasionally squeezing your thighs and stroking them soothingly to calm you down, but it only drove you more insane.

It was to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore, endless gasps leaving your lips as you brushed Ashton’s hair away from his face and tilted your head back. Eyelids fluttering shut, your muscles tightened then relaxed, even showing him signs of an orgasm.

“Ashton..” You whimpered weakly, and even then Ashton didn’t stop. He knew what was coming, keeping a tight grip on your thighs as you trembled and the intensity shook your body to no end. Your back arched off of the couch, leaving Ashton with a mess on his tongue that he did not complain about one bit.

In fact, he still had an award winning smile on his face. Ashton sat back on his heels to watch you come down, his chest heaving as he caught his breath and looked at you with adoration dilating his pupils. “You liked that?” He had the audacity to ask. You opened your eyes to the sound of his voice and giggled.

“God, yeah. Yeah I did.” You paused, taking a moment to slowly lean forward and pull Ashton back up. “I think I forgive you for waking me up.”

Ashton’s lips twitched into a smirk at your statement, but it ended up turning back into that stupid smile you were really starting to love.

“Don’t know what I would do if you didn’t.” He teased, scrunching up his nose before kissing you slowly. It lingered for a moment, but it didn’t leave you wanting anymore, Ashton was happy, you were happy, everything was completely fine.

—

A knock on your door woke you up this time, rolling over to check the time. It felt so early, but it was actually around half past 10. There was another knock — so you felt compelled to get up out of bed and trudge over to the door so you could answer whoever this person was.

Sleepy and grumpy, not ready to face any other human being today, you opened the door to a bright face and twine-wrapped bundle of Baby’s Breath.

“I know you said you forgive me, but…” Ashton began, the pink in his cheeks making you smile despite the night before. “I just had to say sorry, for botherin’ you and all that. Not quitting when you told me to.” He shrugged sheepishly, extending his arm and holding the flowers out to you. “I just wanted your attention.” He admitted, a bit intimidated at your silence despite how you were beaming like an absolute idiot. You stepped forward, wrapping Ashton in an endearing embrace and pulling in the scent of his body mist. He hesitated for a moment, but hugged you back and rested his hands on your back.

“I definitely forgive you.” You spoke muffled into his shoulder, needless to say, Ashton was relieved. His shoulders immediately dropped and he let out a sigh, pulling away from you and shaking his head.

“Like I said, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t.” He replied dramatically, raising his eyebrows in hopes that his joke would make you laugh that contagious laugh again. “I’ll take you out for coffee?” Ashton suggested after a moment of appreciating your satisfaction, a calmer smile crossed your lips as you nodded.

“Of course- yeah. Let me put these in a vase. Make yourself at home, I guess.” You blushed, still smiling with a shrug as Ashton stepped inside and graciously closed the door behind him. He gave himself a mental pat on the back, admiring the difference in your apartment to his as you floated around and spoke to him all throughout your process of getting ready. This was what he had worked towards, and he wasn’t complaining.

[prismuffin]

so for my bday ficcc i have two ideas

idea number one: male reader is based on my demon oc. basically personality wise they very sassy and flirty. kinda a bitch ass ho. idc who u pair it with imma be real. it could be ghost, soap or or price. or like batman. he summons them n junk

idea number 2:

polycule ghost, soap x male reader. male reader is a smart dumbass. like they’re an airhead all of the time minus work. they’re a colonel but honestly dumb as shit outside of work. obvious as hell.

if u want more ideas i can tell u love u mwahhhhh

A/n: Hey Webbie!! Happy birthday!! (Or late birthday depending on when I get this out) decided to go with option 2 kay? also i didnt know how to end this- fight me-

Idiot Boyfriend

Poly!GhostSoap x airhead!male!reader

( summary: Ghost reflects on how he fell in love with two dumbasses )

Warnings?: swearing, mentions of alcohol, talks of guns and violence, reader being a dumbass

!-!more under the cut!-!

Ghost sighed as he watched you chase Gaz around base. He'd apparently tickled you which you saw as a threat, immediately taking off to get your revenge. Hearing a laugh beside him Ghost turned, seeing an amused Soap who was also watching your silly antics. "Go get 'em sweetheart!" He cheered you on and Ghost groaned. "Don't encourage 'em Johnny," "Why not? This is a funny sight," He smirked, sitting next to Ghost, his head instinctually falling onto the taller mans shoulder. Ghost rolled his eyes as he watched you trip, Gaz stopping to laugh at you. "Oh damn, think he's alright Lt?" Soap asked only to get silence as a response. "Lt?" Ghost had heard him, though he was too busy wondering why he was even with such an airhead anyway. He'd already been dating one headache why did he feel the need to worsen his pain with another.

When he'd first met you he was already with Soap, their relationship being monogamous at the time. Though that was more of a suggestion than set in stone. Maybe it was the fact that the first time he'd met you- you were choking some guy out with the power of your thighs alone that'd intrigued him. Either way you'd easily clicked with Soap after meeting him, and after exchanging war stories and silly jokes with the two men all day they both knew at the end of it that they liked you. Initially, it wasn't going to go anywhere but Soap was the one who suggested adding you to their little relationship. Ghost was hesitant at first, not because he didn't like you but because he wasn't sure if you liked him. You'd obviously liked Soap, romantically or not you both clicked immediately, but for some reason for Ghost it was so hard to read you on your feelings for him. Sure you were polite out of respect but could it ever go deeper than that? He knows sometimes his dark humor can fall flat and his stoic tone doesn't help either. Soap had reassured him that he had a charm that couldn't be beat, but of course he'd say that. You and him clicked so easily, you both told terrible jokes and fucked around when you shouldn't. You both had a mutual love for explosives and beer and karaoke and had this natural bond he could only wish for with you. After talking about it they sort of dropped it for a few weeks but it was clear that Soap had liked you and he could understand why. Especially after what he considers the true turning point for him. It was a pretty normal night on base, everyone asleep in their barracks, everyone except Ghost. He often had nights like these where sleep was the last thing on his mind, memories plaguing his brain as he fought desperately to think of anything else. He would wake up Johnny, tell him about the bad thoughts, but he really needed the sleep after the last mission they'd been on. So he thought to deal with it alone, going into the kitchen to hopefully find a stashed bottle whisky to drown his sorrows for the night. Only upon entering he found you, leaning against the counter, pouring yourself a freshly brewed pot of coffee. You both locked eyes, a mutual understanding flooding you both as you held out the warm pot, asking silently if he'd join you. He, of course, was hesitant but had nothing better to do. So he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and watched as you poured his coffee, black.

You'd both sat in silence for some time before you asked quietly why he was up. He told the truth, nightmares, but didn't go into much detail understandably. You hummed, replying with the same answer when he'd asked you a similar question. Your jokey manner was all but lost in this moment, at least for a second. You'd asked him to talk about his nightmares with you, saying that it'd be better than him just holding everything in all the time. He didn't expect it, but you were so easy to talk to. Just the smallest amount of convincing and he did what you asked. That night you both shared the stories of your nightmares with each other. You comforted him, gave him advice and told him things he definitely needed to hear. Him ranting only got the ball rolling as he found himself sitting on the common room couch with you simply talking about anything and everything, your company in the now silent base was warming. You'd even laughed at his horrid jokes, throwing back a few that he's now added to his growing roster of dark humor. He hadn't felt like this since...well...Johnny. As the sun rose and light cracked through the curtains he couldn't help but feel a little glad that he'd gotten to spend time with you. That night alone showed him he did have a natural connection with you. You understood him in ways he didn't even think you could. He found you also shared his insomnia episodes, his love for dogs and specific guns, his respect of stealth and going at it alone on missions. When he saw Soap later that day he nonchalantly added that he's now considering asking you to join their relationship, and he couldn't help but replicate the smile on Soaps face.

One which he held now.

"Lt?" Soap glanced up at Ghost, noticing the slight crinkle in his eye and the small indent underneath his cloth balaclava. To anyone else he'd look completely normal right now, but Soap knew that those miniscule signs meant that he was smiling. Smiling at you as you groaned on the floor. Closing his eyes, Ghosts shoulders bounced in a silent laugh before he moved to stand, Soap following him with his eyes before realizing where he was going, and moving to go to you too.

Rolling on your back, you huffed, the cold floor on your rear as you stared up at the blinding white flood lights that shone down on you. Only they were blocked by a shadow, then two, the smiling faces of your boyfriends stood over you. "Need a hand sweetheart?" Soaps Scottish accent filled your ears and you couldn't help the small smile that found it's way to your face. Reaching out with both hands you grabbed onto one of each of theirs, laughing as they hoisted you up with ease. You felt Ghost pat your back before his arm wrapped itself around you. Looking at him you noticed the small smile beneath his mask and reciprocated his action, now committing to a full side hug. You just held each other there before Soap joined in, now you held both of your boyfriends in your arms. You rocked back and forth between them, your chase with Gaz momentarily forgotten as you accepted this newer task of being held. Only momentarily though as Gaz came back into view you suddenly remembered what you were doing before this, your glare being set on his form. "Garrick!" You yelled and he ran again, you moved to chase him but the hands of ghost didn't seem to want to let you go. "No you don't, come on, we're leaving." "Awww but Simon come on-" you groaned, "I'm starving." He stated bluntly, practically dragging you away from the scene as Soap laughed at your pouting face, following the two of you to the kitchen. Ghost simply listened as you began ranting about some random show that you and Soap had been watching, allowing you to completely forget about the Gaz thing as you got distracted by your own thoughts again. He watched as you and Soap recounted a particular episode that seemingly got on your nerves as it ended on a cliff hanger, silently smiling once again as he relished in the company of his two idiot boyfriends.

----!----

( HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEB I HOPE YOU LIKE YOU BIRTHDAY FIC SEXY !!! )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are CLOSED !!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

[koolades-world]

Hellooo

I really need a fic abt dis rn, my brain is just so 🫨

So, if it's fine, could u do something abt the brothers with an mc who base their worthiness on scores and grades? Like, if mc gets a bad score and grades, they'd constantly feel Worthless and would isolate themselves from everyone. They'd also skip meals and oversleep, feeling like everyone's disappointed at them.

Thank youu!-

hi! yes, of course!

writing this while wearing fake nails that'll hopefully pop off soon haha so if there's spelling mistakes where only one letter missing, that's because i didn't hit the key hard enough with my nail lol

enjoy :)

Mc who bases their worthiness on grades

Lucifer

while he doesn’t pick up immediately, he noticed after you got a bad test score, you’d not be around as much, like meal times

he puts two and two together, and gently confronts you

he offers you help with your work and studying, if that’s what you want, or just his support

either way, you’ve secured exclusive access to his room for peace, quiet, and his encouragement

Mammon

since he spends so much time around you, he catches on quickly

while his bad grades bounce off him, he can see how hard you take it when he tries to joke with you about it to make you feel better

while it’s hard for him to be real with you, he lets you know you’ll forever be the hardest working person he’ll ever know

you’re so resilient and for someone who’s been thrown into a strange world, you’re doing amazing. his late night snack runs always have your favorite in it now

Levi

while you never directly told him, he kind of saw his own self destructive habits in you

at first he’s not sure what to do

does he mention it outright? eventually he got so upset seeing you like that, he blurted it all out

in this, he tells you just how much he cares about you and now he’s a flustered mess

Satan

despite how well he does, he always feels like he's living in the shadow of lucifer and how smart he is. it's part of the reason he picked up reading: to learn and differentiate himself from lucifer

belphie can put him to shame when he just tries and he hates that

he really understands how you feel and is quick to tell you while it’s not abnormal to feel, he understands you

he knows it’s not a healthy habit and he wants to work through it together with you

Asmo

he knows despite outer appearances, not everything can be as it seems

he notices your self care seems to wane around the times you do poorly in class

when this happens, he marches down to your room with a self are lit in hands and demands you relax because he knows you’re so much more than a grade

he just wants you to know to and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you see you how he sees you

Beel

the first time he sees you haven’t eaten in at least a day, he’s quick to offer you something to eat

he’s not sure why you seem to be trying to avoid the question or say no politely

eventually, once he learns, he sweeps you into a giant hug and he lets you know you’re more than just the letter or number attached to your work

he knows you try so hard, and as long as you don’t give up, you’re going to be alright. everyone has their off days and he’s going to do his best to make those days better for you

Belphie

when you begin to join him in progressively getting up later and later in the morning, he knows something is wrong

one morning, after everyone has left, he’ll hop in bed with you and gently talk to you about what’s been going on while hugging you

he offers you help with your work and tells you a grade doesn’t define you in relation to how other see you, especially him

he’s in no place to judge and he knows sometimes all people need is a helping hand from a loved one

[kenposting]

New Guy Part 2! Ah!!!

Summary: Ken invites you over for dinner at his house - something you were greatly looking forward to! Until you noticed something was on his mind.

WC: 4.2k

AN: literally so many people asked me to write more and i just wanted to cry wtf .......... i just feel so silly like i just like him!!! and u guys like him too gosh i luv u guys!!!!!! wtf!!!

Read Part 1 here: New Guy

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀⋆˚✿˖°⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Ken was off today and you really, really missed him. For some reason. He brought a sort of light to the diner that was just not there before he arrived. Sure, he made zero fucking sense 90% of the time, but he didn’t take himself too seriously, and that was incredibly refreshing. 

The girls you worked with snickered behind him often, though, and you did pick up on his face whenever he saw them laugh at a question he had or an encouraging comment he’d make. He really was trying his best, but it seemed no one took that into consideration. 

Perhaps that’s why he asked you to come over after your shift today. You never laughed at him, you always answered his questions no matter how simple they were, and you actually spoke to him like you respected him. Because you do! 

It was an odd feeling to keep looking up at the clock. You didn’t have class since it was now Summertime (and neither did he, as important as studying Beach was to him) and, upon realizing Summer meant a break from college, he very hurriedly asked if that meant he could “take you out sometime – but, you know, only if you wanted to, I mean, I don’t want to make you feel pressured or anything…” 

He was so cute for whatever reason and you found yourself unable to let that go – it’s like he wasn’t real; like he hadn’t been tainted by the rest of the world. He cried – literally cried – the last time you were late for a shift because he thought something bad had happened to you. You promised you’d make it up to him however he wanted and all he could think of was asking you to teach him how to ride a bike. You didn’t know why he was like… that… and you didn’t worry yourself trying to figure it out. 

The directions he gave you to his apartment were drawn in crayon on the back of a paper placemat from work. He made sure to include a tiny house and tiny diner and lots of arrows. He knew the way well, too; as if he had recited it to himself lots of times. Maybe he was scared to forget where he lived. Now that you thought about it, he never drove, only ever walked, and he did say he was new to town when you met him a few months back. 

His house was tiny and sweet, only six short blocks from where the two of you worked. You could tell he took great care tending to it, even just by observing the front yard. It was blocked off by a metal gate and seemed to be an older home, simple and freshly painted eggshell white. He had planted flowers around the outside beside the front step before the small patch of grass began. 

You couldn’t see it, obviously, but he had been pacing around inside for half an hour, nervous about seeing you. And you seeing him. Did he look okay? Was his house okay? He was just beside himself, which didn’t go away at all when he heard a gentle knock at the door.

“Hey, Ken!” 

He stood meekly in front of you as you opened the door, nervously folding and wringing his hands together, scared to do or say something that would make a bad impression. He was nearly hiding behind the door. This was silly since you worked with him almost every day (and hung out with him almost every evening). You noticed a shift over the last few weeks – like his bubbly demeanor had subsided a little. It was probably your coworkers getting to him. 

“Thanks for having me over. I like it so far!” 

He smiled sheepishly and looked at the ground, a blush arising on his cheeks as he seemed to regain a little bit of himself at your presence. 

“Thanks! I’ll show you the rest of my mo–” 

He stopped himself, brows furrowed, like he was going to say something out of habit, but remembered something and decided against it.

“My house, but it will probably only take, like, five seconds. It’s pretty small.” 

He stepped aside, holding the door open for you (something ‘gentlemanly’ he had learned from observing other couples at the diner – he was proud he noticed this). You saw his hands shaking, but you appreciated the confident gesture anyways. 

You stepped in beside him as he closed the door behind you, taking in the scenery. His house was… definitely… something. 

“My friend Gloria helped me find it and even paid for the deposit so I could live here and work! I paid her back, of course.” 

He was confident in his home, it came across in his tone of voice. He had surely made it his own. It was loud as hell. The walls were a bright pink color, but somehow it kind of worked. 

“They helped me paint it too! Gloria and her groom-husband and their daughter.” 

Brushing past his bizarre choice of words (but what’s new, it’s Ken), you surprisingly felt relief within yourself at hearing she was married. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath on that one. 

Your eyes glanced around the place, taking in all of the little things that were so… him. It was like a frat house, but way nicer; cozier. He had shelving all around with little trinkets carefully placed everywhere, some of horses, some of small glass fish, and even some of tiny people. He had put so much thought into these scenes of humans just having fun, one shelf showing a scene of a bunch of friends playing beach volleyball and another showing guys in all black posed in various dance positions playing rock-paper-scissors. 

“Ken, this is so sweet. Did you make all this yourself?” 

He looked aside and blushed, shrugging off the compliment. 

The adjacent wall had framed photos of people dressed in what you assumed to be Halloween costumes. A scene of a fierce man in a gold tracksuit posed next to a blonde girl with a sparkly dress on, the framed photo sitting proudly next to a shot of a group of girls (and one boy) in a mock supreme court dressed in all pink jumpsuits. 

He opened his mouth to tell you about the people in the picture, but you watched as he teared up just thinking about them. It must’ve been a sensitive subject, so you thought it better to not ask. 

Above his (ridiculously messy) desk were tacked drawings on the wall. Crayon drawings. You saw him making them on his breaks. There were little doodles of horses, and some of people having fun at the beach, but mainly horses. You sensed a theme. 

“This section is for all the things people gave me when I came to the real world.” 

His voice was trembling a bit, like he missed them very dearly. Ignoring the ‘real world’ thing, you looked where he was gesturing to see a whole lot of unique and incredibly thoughtful gifts. A tiny disco ball, a small pink model car, a gag book called “Backflips for Dummies” where ‘dummies’ had been crossed out with marker and replaced with a handwritten ‘Ken’, a baby blue record player with matching pink headphones, a seashell, a tiny model campfire, a collection of various headbands, a pink first aid kit – it was just endless. He was clearly so very loved by these people. 

“And all of my furniture was made for me by carpenter Barbie!” 

The Barbie thing was ever-present in his descriptions of home. It didn’t bother you, really, but it was just… getting old. You knew it was just some bit, assuming he was calling his ex-girlfriends Barbies since his name was Ken. A classic joke, sure, but he had beaten it to death at this point. 

“Jeez, Ken, how many girls have you dated?” 

You were careful to come off playfully, never wanting to risk hurting his feelings. You got it, really. He was so sweet and charming, but it felt weird to hear about Carpenter Barbie and Lawyer Barbie – even Stereotypical Barbie. It wasn’t like him at all. His entire personality glowed with respect for everyone he's ever met, so why was he reducing his past loves to just their job title? 

“Oh… No, I haven’t ever… dated anyone before. Their names really were all Barbie, their careers were just how we’d all tell the difference when we were talking about them. I know things are different here. Even you – you’re not named Barbie.” 

You blinked at him. He knew you didn’t believe him, and it showed on his face, like he wanted so badly to just take your hand and introduce you to everyone. His genuineness was hard to pass over, but seriously? All of them were named Barbie? It didn’t make sense. And you supposed it didn’t have to. What did it matter – he lived here now, didn’t he?  

“It’s okay, Ken. Maybe I can meet them one day.” 

His ears pricked at that, stuffing that idea aside for later. It was Summertime, after all. Doesn’t everyone go on vacation for Summer? 

“Mmhm, I can take you!”

It was like he was trying not to fist-pump. He was always so animated. It was one of the very first things you noticed about him. “Anyways… I made dinner. I figured you’d be hungry after working so hard.” 

He stepped into his (tiny) dining area and for the first time, you got a good look at him. His house was kind of a lot – so much so that it had sort of overshadowed him, but as he stood there, the golden evening light from the window washing over him, you wondered how it had taken you so long to notice. 

He stood tall in the archway, wearing a gray pullover sweater, one you’d get at a university (but it had the Barbie logo embroidered on it). Light jeans were cuffed enough to show off his socks. He had swapped the usual white crew-style for patterned ones with little jellyfish all over them. His face was glowing in front of you and you felt yourself just wanting to leap towards him. He looked so cozy and soft and kind and handsome and – 

“I’m not sure what you like with it so I just kind of made everything…” 

You looked over his shoulder to see a rather extensive display of food. Still simple, though, nothing too extravagant, but it was clear he had put a lot of thought into everything. 

Most of his dishes were plastic (and heart-shaped) but you found that rather charming. He had made the same lunch your mom had made growing up, the one you had told him about just days before when he asked you what you’d be doing right now if you could be anywhere in the world. 

“Probably back home, but I’ve got rent to pay so I can’t travel for the Summer if it's longer than a day trip.” 

You remembered him looking so sad, like he was going to cry. The two of you were taking your lunch breaks together, as you did most days. You snacked while he drew horses with crayons on a napkin. He said he wasn’t hungry and that his head was hurting (probably because of the alcohol he’d ordered for the first time on your study date the night before). His cheek was squished, resting on his fist as he scribbled away, very focused. 

“What would you do at home?” 

“Have lunch with my mom at the kitchen table, soup and sandwiches. All the best things always happen at the kitchen table.” 

His face furrowed and scrunched as he put his whole heart into his drawing. His tongue even poked out a few times before he proudly showed it off to you. 

“My art teacher wants to put these in the gallery this weekend! She told me that my drawings perfectly capture the nostalgia of childhood, but I don’t know what those words mean.” 

You looked at him now, standing in front of you in his tiny little house, having prepared all of this just for you, remembering and holding on to everything you had passively told him. It was nearly maddening how kind he was – like you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment. There had to be a catch. There was no way this guy was real. 

He pulled a (baby blue) chair out, allowing you to sit first. You thanked him for putting all this work in, but he shrugged it off like it was nothing. It was like he was created just to serve the people around him. Even the girls at work that were mean to him – he’d pick up their shifts the second they didn’t feel like coming in and he spoke so highly of them, noting how they’d helped him to get the hang of his job. If only you could figure out this whole Barbie real-world thing, maybe you’d understand him a little better, but right now it all just seemed a little ridiculous – both the stories of his hometown and his chivalrous behavior. There was no way he was real. You’d pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming, but that didn’t work the last twenty times, so really there’s no point. 

Seriously, though. What was his deal? You liked him so much – it just snuck up on you. You weren’t looking to be with anyone but you just couldn’t figure him out, and maybe you didn’t want to. Every guy you’d known had some bizarre at the least or toxic at the worst trait that came up eventually and you so desperately wanted him to be different. Now was as good a time as any to get it over with, rip the bandaid off, and be free of this false hope. 

“Hey, Ken…” 

“Hmm?” 

His mouth was full but he looked up at you immediately with a great intensity, like he was so concerned to make sure you were alright. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked at you, waiting (literally) on the edge of his seat. The seats were too small for him. He kind of towered over most of the things in his house, actually. It was like this was a little dollhouse and he had barely begun to outgrow it. 

“What’s with all of the Barbie and Ken stuff?” 

He just looked at you, confused at your question. 

You sighed. 

“I mean, you always say Barbies and Kens instead of just saying women and men. And you always talk about how this… place, this world, is different from your own. I really like you and I’m really trying to understand it but I just don’t get it.” 

He blinked at you, brows furrowing as he nearly choked on his food and tried to gather some sort of answer that wouldn’t further confuse you. 

“You… you like me?” 

You realized what you had said just moments before. It came as a shock to the both of you. You did like him. You liked him so much it was starting to annoy you, actually. 

You nodded, frustrated, like you were searching for some sort of explanation that wouldn’t further confuse him. 

“I do, I like you a lot. I think about you all the time, you’re so silly I just love being around you, you’re ridiculously handsome it’s actually absurd, you’re so good at your job and so kind and you try so hard in school, I love your drawings, I love eating lunch with you, I just love… you. All of you” 

You watched as his lip quivered. He had been trying to hold it in all evening but he just couldn't anymore. 

“You like me?!” 

He bit down on the inside of his lip to stop the shaking. 

“I like you! And I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long but I’ve just never felt this way and… And I just feel like I never know what I’m doing. This place is so different than back home and I always want to take some initiative to show you how I feel but I’m just scared I’m going to bother you and that didn’t work back home and it’s so weird having my own house and–” 

He sighed, looking up at you. 

“This world – this place is so hard to live in.” 

You watched the look on his face. It’s the same face he makes when things get a little too overwhelming. You had seen it before, most recently after he walked right in to a sliding glass door, despreately trying to convince you that they just don’t have those where he’s from. Some things like that are just hard for him. 

You nodded, placing a hand on his. 

“This place is hard to live in. I’ve felt that way my whole life. Like I don’t really fit anywhere and everyone around me knows what they’re doing except me.” 

He nodded so desperately, like you were the first person to ever really understand him. 

“But… Ken, if this place is so hard to live in, why did you come here? And why did you stay?” 

“I came here to figure out why I did what I did.” 

There it was. He answered so quickly, like he had been waiting to tell you this since he met you. You knew it was coming sooner or later. There was no way he was as kind as he seemed, and he was about to tell you about some insane or horrible or creepy or despiciable thing he did to some poor girl before skipping town to ‘find himself’. You’d heard it all before. 

“I really liked this girl back home and she didn’t feel the same way. Not even like she didn’t like me, she just… it was like I was a bother to her, and I was. I waited for her to show up everywhere I’d go and I just wanted her to like me too, but not even romantically. Just like me, as a person, respect me, acknowledge me, validate me, reject me even. She didn’t even do that, she just…” 

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Your jaw tightened, waiting to hear him say something he couldn’t ever take back. 

“Anyways… I didn’t mind that she didn’t like me, truly. I just hadn’t ever really thought about it before. Like we were meant to be together, but not in a good way – like it was planned and I couldn’t escape it. It was Barbie and Ken, there was no Just Ken.” 

Again, as bizarre as this whole Barbie and Ken thing was, his tone of voice was incredibly convincing. 

“But there is just Ken. I am Ken – and that’s it, that's good, but I didn’t know what that meant or who I was without spending my days just pining for her. After all that she came here to the real world and I wanted to as well. I didn’t come for her, I came for me. And I stayed for you.” 

He was crying now, tears slowly falling from his eyes, like he had been waiting for ages to find the words to explain all of this. 

“I mean… I came here to study. The first time I visited I learned about Patriarchy–” 

“The patriarchy.” 

“Right, the patriarchy, and I felt respected and seen, but I didn’t really get it. I tried to figure it out, I really did, but I couldn’t even do beach here and I kept getting arrested and I just... I just felt worse and worse so I…” 

His lower lip was really shaking now, like he had done something unforgivable. 

“I came home without Barbie and I let her get kidnapped by Mattel and I told all the Kens about what I saw and… and–” 

He was holding back actual sobs. 

“And I turned her dream house into a mojo dojo casa house for Kens only and I made Barbieland into Kendom Land Land of the Men and I made her listen to me play the guitar for, like, ever and ever and I just feel so bad about it all.” 

He took a shaky breath in, still clearly upset about everything. 

“But she was so nice to me about it when we finally talked. And then she came here, so I did too. I signed up for school so I could figure out why I did that and how to help other people realize what they’re feeling before they do something like that too. I know it was wrong and really mean, but I can also see that I was sad and I just liked her and I felt invisible and I didn’t even have a house.” 

He didn’t even have a house? 

“But now I do have a house! And I love learning about Beach and horses but what I really want is to do everything I can to help other people understand why this system doesn’t work, no matter who’s in charge. It didn’t work in Barbieland and it surely doesn’t work here either. It’s all ridiculous and it benefits no one, including those in power. It’s not fair, to guys or girls, to you, even. You can’t even go home during Summer because they barely pay you as much as they pay me just because you’re a girl, and I just started! You trained me! It’s absurd!” 

None of this was making any sense logically, but emotionally, all of it tracked. You felt the same way. You came here to understand the unhealthy behaviors in yourself and to try to help fix the system any way you could. 

“I love my house so much. I’m doing everything I can to figure out how I did something so crazy to all of the Barbies, but I won’t let it make me cynical or cold or mean anymore. I love being alive and even though people make fun of me for crying or blushing too much or asking stupid questions, I love being alive. I know it’s silly, but I love it, I love all of it. Every time you compliment me or help me with something or show me something new I just feel like I’m gonna explode. I don’t understand it, but I never even felt this way about Barbie – I don’t even know if I liked her, really, I think I was just programmed to act like it. I love seeing the older people that come in to work, they love each other so much and I just… I want that. That’s real and I want something real. I want more than a long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend bride-wife – I want what I see every day here. Like my friend Gloria and her groom-husband and everyone we see at work and at school. You know how people come into the diner every day – literally every day! – just to eat together? And hold hands? And look at each other for so long and just talk and laugh? I have no idea what that’s like, but I want to know so bad. I want to have that. And I want you to have that – even if it’s not with me! Even if you don’t feel the same way, you deserve a good groom-husband more than anyone I’ve ever met, it's absurd that no one is taking care of you!” 

He sighed, closing his eyes. 

“Sorry, what I’m, trying to say is, I just… I don’t understand it but all I want to do is spend time with you. I tried to ask some people at school what to do about... this feeling but their answers were so mean, like you were an object I was entitled to just take for myself. I tried to ask our coworkers but they told me you wouldn’t like me anyways and I believed them. I just… I don’t want to be... patriarchal about it and I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

A quiet fell over the place. You watched as little dust bunnies glittered around him. He had soup on his shirt. 

“Ken, I… I don’t know what to say.” 

You smiled, letting out a gentle laugh. He laughed too. You had been holding your breath at everything he was saying, a blush creeping over your ears. He was blushing too, mostly at himself for going off a little, but also at you. He could stare at you for hours. Most days he’s telling himself not to, straining his eyes away from you at work. His heart just ached when you spoke so kindly to customers or your coworkers or him. Gosh, when you spoke to him. He just melted every time, turning away from you as quickly as possible so you wouldn’t see him fall apart, just bashful. 

“I think you know exactly what you’re doing. And you’re damn good at it, too. If you’d asked me I’d say you’re the most experienced human I know.” 

Relief was painted on his face, a sense of calm falling over the two of you like a gentle, quiet snowfall. You really were the only one that understood him, but moreover, he was the only one that understood you. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing either, Ken. I don’t think anyone does. Everyone is just pretending, I promise. I watch the way those same couples spend their days just… existing together. It’s like they don’t have a care in the world when they’re next to each other and I feel that way when I’m with you. I also don’t know what I’m doing, but I can learn. We can learn. We can figure it out. And I don’t really understand the Barbies or Kens or Real World stuff you’re talking about most days, but that doesn’t mean you can’t show me.” 

He looked so simple, sat right in front of you, and you watched as he smiled – like all of a sudden he wasn’t so confused anymore. 

“Do you know how to roller-blade?” 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀⋆˚✿˖°⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[joocomics]

hey dinna! hope you’ve been doing well 🫶 idk if ur taking HC requests rn, as i’m sure ur busy w kinktober (which i’ve been loving btw!!) so totally understandable if ur not, but if u are… how do u think the heroes would comfort their partner who was going through a difficult time and feeling bad about themselves?

(asking for a friend) ((it’s me i’m the friend. PMS has been getting to me and making All of my insecurities flare up and i even had a work-related nightmare the other day from the stress 🥲 i know the feelings will pass and i’ll be fine but it really sucks rn and i wish i had a pretty boy to hug me and tell me it’s ok 😭))

hi pookie 🫶🏼 i’m sorry to hear you’re going through a tough time and i really hope this post as little as it is brings you some joy! i’m sure you’re strong and you can get through it quicker than you think! make sure to rest well and take care of yourself now more than ever ~ i’m here if you need to distract yourself from everything. also, thank you for reading my kinktober event, means more than you know 🤎

gunil would talk to you about it firsthand because for him it’s important that you know you can always share anything with him; undeniably the conversation would ease the storm inside you. he’s patient, understanding and very good with words; he’d know what to say and how; when to speak and when to leave you to be the one talking while he just listens and caresses your back with affection. the conversation would be comforting, and once it’s over, he’d propose to you to go for a walk in the park so you can get some fresh air. his eyes won’t leave you out of sight throughout the whole day and they’ll radiate love and gentleness. if you’re not in the mood for that, he’d order food and make a cosy space for a movie night

jungsu would cuddle you so much; he’d lock arms around you and keep you warm and safe while leaving soft kisses in your hair. he wouldn’t be big on talking in the specific moment, but when he speaks he’d say exactly what you need to hear and every word would be healing. you’d feel your heart calming its rhythm and healing its wound slowly as he whispers that you’re doing great and that everything will be okay; he’s by your side and he’s always going to be here for you. he’d make sure to spoon you when you go to bed to limit the chances of you having another nightmare, and during the day, he’d be throwing you compliments and little encouraging phrases that would have a big positive impact on your week

jiseok would be slightly perplexed maybe solely because of wanting to help you feel better and being unsure if he’s doing enough. until you show him that his presence alone is already enough for your heart to relax. he’d definitely sneak a few jokes here and there, hoping to make you laugh, as he keeps your head resting on his lap and his hands playing with your hair which is another thing that always makes you feel at ease too. you’d be able to feel the love he has for you as his fingers caress your cheek gently and his eyes look down at you lovingly

seungmin would talk to you about it when you want to talk about it, and when you need to have some alone time, he’d cook for you. he’d make your favorite meal and put on the movie that he knows you keep rewatching because you love it so much. he can easily tell when your mood starts to drop and every gesture of his would radiate support and affection in order to remind you he’s there for you. he’d buy all your favorite snacks, he’d shower together with you, he’d do your hair and take you to the mall so you can laugh together at silly toys and such

junhan would be the best listener; he’d really try to give you not only support and validation but also advice if you need it, for work or your own personal reasons. he’d ask questions and try to help you go through your messy thoughts that would be clouding your mind. after a long conversation he’d want to uplift your spirits and would want to know what you want to do. whatever you’re in the mood for, that’s what he’d be in the mood for too. going out for brunch, chilling at home and listening to music, going to the cinema… you name it. on days like that he’d just want to see you smile again

jooyeon would let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you need. he hates to see you cry, but he knows it’s relieving you from the pressure; if it’s something you feel the need to do in that moment he’d hold you in his arms and caress your back gently while quietly reminding you that it’s okay. he’d kiss your nose then your cheeks until he covers every part of your puffy face with quick soft pecks. he’d make sure you know it’s normal for everyone to have days like this and that you shouldn’t forget that you’re not going through them alone. the crying session would turn into the two of you chatting about some mundane things while cuddling, and then the cuddling would turn into him suddenly playing fight with you out of nowhere (spoiler alert: he’d let you win. not easily, but he’d let you win)

[mugentakeda]

iroh azula antagonism is sooo important to me guys i cant ever read azula redemption fics cus none of them include their insane beef. its such a lonely world out here. can u even imagine how nuts it wouldve been if she found out abt the white lotus. i need to talk ab them dude

i like to imagine the trip back to the fn after ba sing se zuko didnt talk to iroh at all while he was in the brig because he was so in shock and still reeling that iroh outright betrayed him and his family and nation for the avatar. those three years iroh spent with zuko on the ship encouraging him meant what now? "why would he banish you if he didnt care" meant what now that you helped what would undo the banishment evade me?

and azula has never been above gloating, even over the most pathetic scum. so she makes sure to head to the brig the night they depart, her exhausted brother conked out in his quarters none the wiser, mai and ty lee flanking her. and even though the mission had been to capture the avatar dead or alive, theres something about looking down at her restrained uncle whod been working the whole time to get zuko (who has an unending list of faults but is loyal above all else and had been trying his hardest to fulfill the terms of his banishment even while being a wanted criminal to their nation- something she will not overlook) to betray their nation is somehow more satisfying by tenfold than looking down at a restrained avatar.

she knows just how hard iroh takes losing. he lost ba sing se and a son years ago, and here he has lost ba sing se and a son once more. or a boy his senile, trauma-riddled mind has convinced him is his son. her uncle bet against her father by trying to turn his son against him for whatever traitorous and foolish reasons he has and frankly shes just overjoyed to have him out of the way once and for all, because azula is a dragon just as much as iroh and she will always strive to protect her blood, because irohs the one who let zuko into that war room in the first place, because what right does he have to allow her foolish brother that couldnt keep his trap shut to save his life in a situation like that and then have the audacity to try and turn him against them when zuko even being in ba sing se (instead of working under azula along with mai and ty lee like he shouldve been) was all his fault in the first place? she hopes freeing zuko of him stings unlike anything else. she hopes if that sting manifested in reality it would take the shape of an ugly stamp right across his face and haunt him for the rest of his days in his self made prison.

and then iroh can say that zuko had no choice BUT to be loyal above all else because if he wasnt thats a death sentence from ozai. and then azula can say that thats wise of her father then because if that wasnt how it was then their whole family would be an infested nest of lying cowards like iroh. mustve been something her dad learned from his dear old brother. and what can iroh even say to that

[greenerteacups]

Hi! Just wanted to say the latest chapter is lovely & amazing & sweet & had me smiling the whole time! I absolutely love your characterisation of everyone, especially Draco, so it was so so lovely to return to this world & to his thoughts!! with his best friend and crush at malfoy manor no less! All the yearning is already off to a great start hehe I am so excited for the rest of book 5!

Wanted to ask you how has it been for you to write this new book and volume? Has your writing process changed since when you’d first begun taking on a long form project like this?

& also are there any moments or surprises in this book that you’re especially excited about?

sending so much love & gratitude for you and your incredible works 💓

Thank you so much! This is really encouraging, I so appreciate it.

Inasmuch as I can use this metaphor without having kids myself, I sort of see each of the books as a different child. The first one flew out in basically a few weeks of very intensive writing, and it was a total dream — plot, pacing, symbolism, major beats, all fell into place basically without effort. The character stuff was the hardest, as I've written about before, but even then, the glorious part of writing beginnings is it's the most energy you'll ever have for a project, so the lows were pretty soft lows. Book 2, in contrast, I had to drag kicking and screaming by its ankle from under the bottommost mattress of my brain. It's one of my least favorite books (tone problem; COS has killer plot/setting/ingredients for a YA novel, but it's stuck in the doldrums of Harry Potter's well-documented Early-Installment Weirdness, before Cedric Diggory slams the gas and upshifts the whole series into its correct age bracket). More specifically, once I'd gone through and picked out everything in the book that happened because of Lucius, I didn't have a plot — hey alexa how do you rewrite Chamber of Secrets when We Got No Fucking Chamber Of Secrets — and oh by the way, even if you want to do a moody tone/political setup book, remember that your protagonists are still twelve, so if you go too dark or too intense, you'll risk torpedoing your readers' suspension of disbelief. Good luck, Charlie.

Book 3 felt the most like its own novel, if that makes sense? It's the last truly feel-good book of the series; it's a great stand-alone mystery novel with relatively low stakes. Plus you get a bunch of the big series icons: patronuses, dementors, werewolves, Hogsmeade, the Marauders' Map, and time turners arithmancy. It just felt like a good old-fashioned motherfucking romp of a mystery/adventure story, before any of the complex character work and major stakes of the late books come in.

Book 4 was the most fun I've had writing anything maybe ever. I don't even know what it was. Maybe the tournament arc, honestly? Love me a tournament arc. But in any case, I opened every new chapter feeling a tingle of excitement for what I was gonna get to do. Oh, and the romance started, finally, Jesus God (if it feels like a slow burn reading, just imagine what it felt like writing it, when everything takes ten times as long, and you have to figure out how to word the fucker.)

Book 5, in contrast, has felt much less like that tingle of "here we go!" and more like "oh, man, this is gonna be cool." Because this is the arc of the story that composed the original idea for Lionheart, literally years ago, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far! If you'd asked me "do you know that it's going to take you 500,000 words of backstory before you can start writing that concept you're thinking about, and you're going to do it anyway?" I would have said: "absolutely not, strange mind-reader!" But like... I'm here! Finally! And it's... real now? Like, this isn't just a bunch of clips of scenes in my head anymore! That's rad!

That being said, it's definitely been slower than Book 4, because I kept switching back to my outline document to make sure that certain things were set up properly, and that I hadn't lost any of the plot threads or forgotten a minor beat that was vitally important for the story three chapters later. And I had a minor crisis about three months ago when I ripped out about 8 chapters in the first third of the book — basically everything from September to December — because I'd done a readthrough to check pacing (big mistake! never edit while drafting, that's satan talking) and realized I had a missing storyline. Like, there was a whole layer of the story that was just. Missing. Not there. And the existing text really couldn't fit another thread, so instead of taking weeks to pore through and try to sift out what I could save, I needed to factory reset and start over. And I didn't want to! I vividly remember sitting there with my head in my hands, trying not to weep, because I'd decimated 90,000 words of work in a single edit. But it had to be done. Because the story wasn't going to work. And now (hopefully) it will.

And of course, there's still that sense of excitement and exhilaration from before. Always. But whereas Book 4 felt like a delicious chocolate pudding, Book 5 is a medium-rare steak.

(Book 6, so far, is four shots of espresso and a whiskey chaser. FWIW.)

[possibilistfanfiction]

For a prompt: honestly, I’d love to see more of outsider’s perspectives of Ava and Bea, like you did with the shopkeeper and her wife.

[tbh this has basically everyone u would want to see!! lol - 10k ao3 here]

//

yasmine

camila and beatrice have been video chatting often lately, and have figured out something encouraging,  you think. you try to understand everything, but it seems like, especially when jillian is on, they're speaking a whole different language. sometimes you're a little blown away by the both of them still: camila is brilliant at anything to do with technology, and kind, and funny; beatrice is brilliant at, well, just about everything, and, even though she's been working steadfastly to research how to get ava back, she still has sunkissed skin now, light hair and freckles. sometimes you see a flash of a tattoo on her wrist.

it hadn't really surprised you, to see ava lean forward while the whole entire world was ending and kiss beatrice — a little awkward, for you, but mostly achy. you haven't ever cared about sexuality, but you definitely don't when it comes to the two of them: because there's harm and then there's duty and then there's love.

one day you're sitting with camila, pretending to read more than actually reading, when beatrice facetimes. you know this because, honestly, sometimes you're a little nosy. it's fine; you helped save the world and sometimes the ocs, with incessant and constant training, gets kind of dull.

when camila answers, beatrice is crying. from what you can see, she's in a sports bra, you're pretty sure; you're scared, for a moment, that she's hurt, or that something really bad has happened, but then she's laughing and say, 'ava's here; ava's here,' and camila starts to cry.

'she's — she's okay?'

and then, a literal fucking miracle, ava's face — the same as you remember; so pretty and with a friendly smile — pops up on screen.

'holy shit,' camila says, and then she's laughing too, her eyes filling with tears. 'hi, ava.'

'hey,' ava says, then crams in next to where beatrice is sitting on the couch, practically on her lap, but you can't really begrudge them. beatrice is in a pair of sweatpants and, indeed, a sports bra; ava has, ostensibly, changed from whatever outfit she came back in, because she's wearing a big soft t-shirt and a comfortable pair of shorts. maybe that's what she wore in — wherever she was, but you're pretty certain those are beatrice's clothes. 'yasmine too, hello.'

beatrice is still crying and smiling and ava leans into her side, runs her fingers gently under her eyes to dry her tears.

'— how?' is the only thing camila gets out: are you okay?; do you remember us?; do you want to kill us now?; how long have you been gone?; are you still the ava we know?; what is going to happen to this world now? sits in your chest, but ava just shrugs.

'i heard bea, all the time.' beatrice blushes slightly, but she just tucks her face into ava's arm from a moment. 'and all of you too. but, bea, the strongest. i think it had something to do with her being in the ocean, maybe? and the city of angels.' she turns to beatrice. 'a little on the nose, don't you think?'

'oh yeah,' camila says, 'that's it, definitely the only reason.'

beatrice rolls her eyes but ava just smiles. 'and because she loves me, i suppose.' she scoots even closer to beatrice, who sighs happily. 'something just — spit me out, i guess. right in bea's living room. which, if i do say so myself, is way better than cat's cradle, no offense.'

another miracle in a series of miracles beyond belief. 'wow,' you say, and there's a beat of silence before everyone is laughing again, camila wiping tears.

'anyway, maybe you can come to us, tomorrow?' ava asks. 'i don't — i would like to stay here, if i can. if that works. at least for a few days.'

'you're — you're healed?' you can't help but ask.

ava nods. 'lots of scars,' she says, but then shrugs, and beatrice runs a gentle hand up and down her spine. 'but yeah, i'm good, as far as i can tell. not old as fuck, either, which rocks.'

'we can come tomorrow,' camila says, then starts crying all over again. 'i can't wait to see you. both of you.'

ava grins. 'yeah, don't come too early, though. i have plans.'

beatrice really blushes then, coughs into ava's shoulder.

'i will be sure to let beatrice know before coming,' camila says.

ava's smile is way too bright, all of a sudden, and beatrice groans and you kind of want to cover your ears before ava says, 'that's what i'll be doing tonight.'

'goodbye, ava,' camila says, even though she laughs. 'i love you, so much.'

ava leans into the camera, like she wants to reach through it. 'i love you too. i am — there are no words for what i feel, seeing you all again. and how much i missed you.'

'well, have fun tonight,' camila says. 'please don't tell me any details when we visit tomorrow.'

'this one time, i'll spare you.'

'thank god.'

//

keiko

you meet her on an otherwise unremarkable monday afternoon. you're running through your forms before the advanced adult class you teach, and when she walks in, you notice her immediately: muscular in a cutoff tank, in a way that's unassuming and speaks to years of training specifically in martial art, a calm expression on her face. her hair is back in a meticulously neat bun, and, when she sees the wall of bo you've spent a few years collecting, her shoulders relax and she lets out a big breath. vanessa is at the front desk and, while she's the best to go out in weho with, she's not the most knowledgable.

'hi,' you say, stepping up beside the desk. 'i'm keiko.'

she offers her hand and shakes firmly, calluses similar to yours. 'beatrice,' she says. 'pleasure.'

'can i help you with anything?'

'i'm hoping to join a dojo.'

'well,' you gesture to, in fact, the dojo behind you, 'you've come to the right place.'

she grants you a small smile.

'we have classes, all levels. would you like me to show you around?'

'that would be wonderful, thank you.'

and you had shown her around; you had sold her a monthly trial membership — a few advanced adult classes and some time for open practice — and a gi and obi — she'd calmly informed you that she's a black belt, and when she came in the next afternoon for the advanced class you teach, you had felt immediately embarrassed when she runs through forms with the kind of power and ease you had only seen a few times in your life, even at the olympics and world championships.

'that was a great class,' she says, far too kind a compliment for someone who is probably the one person you've met since you retired a few years ago who could beat you in a competition.

'you are — incredible.'

she shoulders the compliment with reluctance. 'i haven't trained in quite a while.'

'that is honestly insane.'

she laughs, after a moment. 'a much needed mental health break,' she says. 'but it felt good, to return to this, in this way.'

'do you — i saw you looking at the bo the other day,' you say, and you don't miss the way her hands twitch. 'would you like to use one? i have to clean and close up, anyway.'

she hesitates, but then, 'are you sure?'

'absolutely,' you say. 'pick any one you want; you can train over there, it's got the best view of the ocean.'

'that's very kind.' she's solemn, and a little quiet. 'thank you, keiko.'

she walks, barefoot and at home in her gi, and runs her hands gently over each bo. she picks a medium length one, black and sleek and heavier than your favorite, and then takes a deep breath and starts moving so beautifully you can't even quite follow it. it's mesmerizing, and you watch until she slows and then sets the bow on the ground and, to your surprise, sniffles. she wipes tears off her cheeks and you quickly start cleaning, granting her as much privacy as possible. she takes a deep breath and then takes the bo and walks back over to the wall.

'if i find one of my own,' she says, 'can i store it here? it's all right if not, of course.'

'you're more than welcome to do that.' you don't quite know what to say to her, the most talented martial artist you've ever seen in your life, who never competed at any events you know of, randomly in your dojo, who had just cried running through forms with a bo, small and coiled tightly. 'and, honestly, you don't have to feel like you need to come to classes. you're more than welcome, but i think you're beyond anything i would have to teach you.'

she laughs after a few seconds. 'i really did enjoy it.'

'maybe thursday we could spar? i'm here in the morning.'

she seems to weigh it, but then she nods. 'that sounds fun. thank you, keiko.'

you get to know her quickly: the way she moves and her favorite forms and the first time she throws you, you lie on your back in a little bit of shock: you haven't lost in years. she just stands calmly and offers you a hand. 'who are you?'

she just laughs.

you get to know her, as the days go along. you get lunch, one day, and you flirt with the host and the waiter — 'i love cute boys,' you say, 'what can i say?' — which amuses her.

'my partner is a flirt,' she says, but the smile slips from her face before she can stop it. she clears her throat. 'she's very sick, right now,' she says, quickly, as if to avoid your questions. 'but, still,' she says, sitting up a little straighter, gathering herself, 'a flirt.'

you learn not to ask about her partner; you learn that she surprisingly loves pepperoni pizza and beer; you learn that she's rich and lives in a beautiful house on the beach, but she's generous and lowkey, especially compared to everyone else in los angeles. she works in tech for a firm in spain — the details vague, but that's tech anyway — and, when you offer to let her teach a kids class, she smiles gently and accepts. she's patient and seems to enjoy correcting their form and teaching them kata one step at a time; she encourages them and makes sure to teach, quietly, that the goal is never, ever to harm, only to protect. she's one of your best friends, quickly, and is also impossible to beat whenever you spar. she goes out with you and your friends in weho one night, gets very drunk and turns down what feels like an entire club of women, and then tells you, on your couch at home while you give her a glass of water, that her partner’s name is ava, and that she’s kind and smart and beautiful and loves to dance. she doesn’t cry, but she curls up, small and sad; you haven’t mentioned it since.

one day, beatrice texts you, early in the morning, Hello! Ava's treatment worked, so she's back with me now, for the foreseeable future.

it's very businesslike, but she's always a stiff texter, and you know how excited she must be, how relieved.

Hopefully forever, she sends, and you know you're right.

you meet ava a few days later, hanging onto beatrice's side when she comes to the dojo after a few days off. you realize, in one flash of a moment, clear and sacred, that you really have never seen beatrice smile before — not until ava looks at her when she takes her bo off the wall with the softest expression. devotion; adoration. love. beatrice blushes and returns it, a smile in full force so powerful it knocks the air out of you slightly.

you also realize that you've never seen beatrice show off before, and you decide, right then and there, you're never sparring while ava is watching. you can lose, sure, but being humiliated is not on your to-do list. when you tell ava that, as she watches beatrice in a little bit of a daze, she just laughs. 'she's incredible.'

'yeah,' you agree as beatrice swipes the bo along the ground so hard you think she could break an ankle, then stands without a breath in between. 'she is.'

//

ray

the second time you meet ava, she's in a tiny bikini, bright orange, with a wispy gossamer coverup that you're sure beatrice bought just for her. it kind of makes you laugh, and it's barely warm enough to be out without a sweater, let alone in a bikini, but ava waves when you come in from the whitewater. bea is still waiting at the outer break, exhausted this morning for reasons that made her blush and you had laughed, delightedly.

'your girl is taking forever to catch anything today,' you say.

ava almost glows, you think, at your girl. 'we didn't get much sleep last night,' ava tells you with a wink. you grin and high five and then offer her a spot on your towel after you unzip your wetsuit and pull it down to rest along your waist.

ava is beautiful. you had wanted to know her, for months, and finally, she's here — young and so, so pretty; small and surprisingly muscular. you would never say anything, but you know she had been sick, and there are scars all over her body, puckered and angry still, shiny and pink. you know bea doesn't care, and you don't either, but ava moves a little gingerly and you fight the urge to ask if she needs help. she settles, eventually, legs stretched out in front of her and her palms behind, leaning back into the sun, face turned up toward it. she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, then slowly lets it out.

you notice beatrice about to catch a wave, and you're happy when ava seems, like a sixth sense, to open her eyes just in time. bea is talented: balanced and strong and had learned to surf on a short board and relatively big swells quicker than anyone else you'd taught; when she’d shown you her bo one day — mostly because it was just out on her coffee table — you had been both very turned on and a little terrified. she’s the most gifted athlete you know, and so it’s no surprise when. she rides the biggest wave of the day all the way in, kissing the lip a few times, and ava sighs.

'she's so hot, jesus christ.'

'no comment.'

she laughs. 'we didn't get a ton of time together, really, before i... got sick.' she pauses, looking at beatrice collecting her board in the whitewater. 'she was scared. but now, it's like —' she shakes her head — 'i just love her so much.'

'yeah,' you say, a little teary for your friend. 'i can tell you, without a doubt, that she loves you too.'

ava grins, then stands and walks toward beatrice, who lets ava pull down the zipper of her wetsuit with gratuitous hands, a kiss to the nape of her neck, and then grabs beatrice's hand and laces their fingers together. 'wanna come over for breakfast?'

'i would — yeah,' you say, 'i would really love that.'

you step in, quickly, once ava cracks an egg so hard it goes all over the counter and beatrice only looks on in adoration.

'you're a disaster,' you tell her, but she just shrugs. ava is still in her bikini and cover up, and beatrice's hands sit on her hips while you fry some eggs and chop up vegetables to make a passable pico. she smiles into the crook of ava's neck and they make you a little breathless: a happiness that quiet; a love that big.

//

ayanna

you've been working at this coffee shop for a week now, and every morning, the hottest woman you've ever seen walks in, clearly just from the beach, and orders the same thing in a british accent that makes you want to groan. you're new to this part of los angeles, which is bougie as hell. it's mostly white influencers who order overly complicated drinks for no reason, but the pay is above minimum wage and your manager has worked with your class schedule easily enough.

plus — beatrice.

she's quiet, exceedingly polite and always tips at least twice of what her drink costs. she smiles and has freckles and you burn your hand more than once sneaking a glance at her strong arms and tattoo on her wrist and, eventually, a new one on her shoulder and collarbone that you had seen because she's decided to make your 6:42 am better by wearing a cutoff tank and shorts today.

'good morning, ayanna,' she says, and it's fucking electrifying that she knows your name, even if you have a nametag on your apron — it still counts.

'hey, beatrice. how were the waves this morning?'

she leans against the counter, just slightly, and you will yourself to keep your cool. 'how much do you know about surfing?'

'nothing, really.'

she laughs, not unkind. 'well, in that case, the outer break was far, which means i had to paddle a lot, but the waves were beautiful. can't regret it.'

'uh,' you say, super smooth, 'regular order?'

'yes,' she says, 'and can you add a chocolate croissant? oh, and an olive oil coffee cake. thank you.'

beatrice doesn't seem like the kind of person to eat a croissant and a coffee cake for breakfast, but who are you to judge: that sounds awesome, frankly. you tell her your total and she tips, like always, excessively, and then collects everything with a kind smile.

'have a great day,' she says, and you're too flustered to say anything other than an extremely eloquent, 'same.' mohammed laughs at you from where he's unpacking more to-go cups and you flip him off before you greet the next customer.

/

it's a few days later when your routine gets broken by another beautiful woman, who seems a little in awe of this stupid, trendy coffee shop, but beatrice wasn't in yesterday and it's already 7:19 and she hasn't been in today. it's not that you expect her, really, but she is the best part of your shift, so, whatever. you can have a harmless crush if you want.

'hi,' this new person says, and then reads your nametag. 'ayanna, what's up?'

your mind blanks, because you're pretty much face to face with an angel: she's small and lively and has pretty, delicate features and her hair is pushed back beneath a bright pink beanie, just at her chin. her hands, playing with a small, elegant black wallet, are delicate too. 'nothing,' you get out, 'just, you know, work.'

she smiles. 'yeah, i'm a bartender. opposite end of the day, but i get you.'

you glance down at your screen, just to have something to do other than stare. 'so, what's your order?'

she gets out her phone and reads off iced coffee with cold foam, and then locks it and inspects your pastries. 'can i get one of each? i want to try them all.'

you laugh, something fond and a little ridiculous about that, but you say, 'sure thing. what's the name?'

'ava,' she says. 'thanks.'

mohammed rolls his eyes at you while he gets the iced coffee ready and you put each pastry neatly in a to-go box, because ava is right there and you certainly hadn't needed to get her name. but whatever, she's gorgeous and it's early. ava tucks the box of pastries under her arm. 'ava, tell me which is your favorite the next time you come in.'

ava seems delighted by this. a good sign. 'sure thing,' she says, and then waves.

/

the next morning, it all comes crashing down. there's horrendous traffic, even at 5 am, and you barely make it on time. there's a rush of rude ass customers way too early, and you spill a shot of espresso down your apron.

but, then you see beatrice, and it's wonderful, and perfect, and so great: you're ready today, to ask for her number; you can do it. but then you see ava walk in right behind her after holding the door open, and it's like slow motion when ava bumps into beatrice's side and laces their fingers together and places a sweet kiss to her shoulder. you know there are flowers that sit there, under her hoodie, gorgeous in their greyscale, and ava seems to know as well.

'ayanna,' beatrice says, the biggest, most contented smile on her face, 'good morning.'

you nod and smile, although you're a little crushed. 'hey, beatrice. and hi, ava.'

'hello!' it's way too early for this kind of cheer but it's a little infectious.

'this is my partner, ava,' beatrice says, as if it wasn't horrifically obvious.

'back from quite the business trip,' ava says, looking at the pastries again. 'very remote, no sweets. gotta make up for lost time, you know?'

beatrice blanches a little but ava looks at her sweetly and she recovers. 'can i get my usual, and whatever chaotic order ava wants?'

ava laughs. 'my favorite was a tie,' she says, 'between the chocolate croissant and the olive oil coffee cake. which, i know, beatrice, you had said, but whatever, okay?'

beatrice smiles. 'okay, ava.'

they both, despite their bickering, are so tangibly happy your spirits lift. you'll take the L, if you have to, for people to have what they clearly do. they overtip, as always, and then take their leave.

'ouch,' mohammed says. '0 for 2 this morning.'

you sigh. 'more fish in the sea, i guess. gotta keep the faith.'

he laughs. 'that's the spirit.'

//

jillian

'okay,' ava says, sitting up as best she can with a grimace, 'if bea can't get into bed with me, what about you?'

you spare a glance for beatrice, who only rolls her eyes in amusement and underlying sadness: ava is in pain, to the point where she can't walk, can barely sit or lie down. she's on muscle relaxers and pain medicine so she's comfortable, but it's complicated and tedious, to try to fix her spine — or, more realistically, stabilize it — without killing her.

'how about we see how you're feeling after surgery?'

ava groans. 'that's so boring, jillian.'

you walk to her bedside and take her hand, squeeze it gently. 'ready?'

ava takes a deep breath, braver than anyone you've ever known in your life, time and time again. she looks at beatrice, who bends down and kisses ava gently. ava tucks a strand of beatrice's hair behind her ear and then cups her face. 'in this life.'

beatrice nods. 'in this life.'

'i love you, bea.'

beatrice kisses ava's forehead, eyes closed in reverence. 'i love you, ava.'

ava looks at you and then nods, teary and afraid. 'ready.'

other than your son, you have never been as determined as you are now. you control all of the tech to make sure ava is fully sedated but still alive, that the halo is dormant enough to allow the surgeons to work on her spine without it healing their interventions immediately. it's kind of a miracle, you think, that it all works — but, then again, it seems that ava is prone to miracles. it goes smoothly, without a hitch. ava will have chronic pain and limited mobility, at least some days, during flares — but it will be manageable. it will be livable.

beatrice is asleep when you bring ava back into the room, wheeling the bed as quietly as possible. she stirs, exhausted, from her chair, and you get to tell her — and then, after, a crowded room of ava's people, ava's family, waiting nervously — that it had gone as best as it could. you were sure she was alive, and that she'd wake up, and that, as far as you can understand, her pain would be significantly reduced. ava deserves more than that, much more, but it's what you can give.

you wake beatrice gently, a squeeze to her shoulder. you tell her first, because ava loves her: 'she did great. everything went as perfectly as it could.'

beatrice sniffles and then stands and hugs you. 'thank you,' she says, strong and calm and trembling with the force of it: the love of her life, safe and cared for.

'hot,' ava rasps from bed, and beatrice laughs and lets go of you and hurries to ava's side, takes her hand.

'hello, darling.'

ava lifts her hand and cups bea's cheek, and then wiggles her toes under the blanket. she grins up at beatrice, then grins at you. 'it worked?'

'yes,' you say, and it can't bring back your son and you can't fix the world, heaven or hell, but this — this — you can do: 'it did.'

//

mary

'hey,' you say, softly, when you notice beatrice start to stir on the couch. she presses her nose into the pillow behind her head, then the couch cushion, and then reaches up and rubs her eyes, scratches above her ear, and scrubs a hand over her face and blinks dazedly.

'a new shift?' beatrice looks around at the walls and windows darkening, trying to gain her bearings. she's in a hoodie and shorts, comfortable and soft, a pair of pale pink socks on her feet, her broken leg in its brace propped on a few pillows. ava had carefully draped a soft blanket over her, but beatrice had thrown it mostly to the side in her sleep.

'we're not working, beatrice.' you say it kindly, though, and offer her a glass of water with a metal straw ava had shown you proudly in one of the drawers in their kitchen. she sips greedily, without any embarrassment — maybe she's on pain meds enough to not care; maybe she's known you for so, so long it doesn't matter; maybe she's been shown a degree of love you have known only once.

she pats your hand. 'i know.' she wrinkles her nose. 'where's ava?'

'i threatened her to take a walk.'

beatrice laughs. 'glad to know she still understands who the best of us is.'

you want to argue with her — you're the best of us, beatrice; you always have been — but her head lolls to the side on the cushion and her eyes are fluttering open and closed. 'i like your haircut,' you offer instead. you wonder, with pride, what she's learned about herself, what she's let come forward that she's always known.

she smiles softly. 'yeah?'

'yeah. you’ve got a great soft dyke vibe going on. looks good on you.'

you’re not sure about the word, but you love her and you understand. and — she grins. ‘that’s the goal. androgynous and comfortable. i — i’ve grown into what i want, i think.’

'speaking for myself, i love to see it. it’s a whole vibe.’

‘yeah.’ she looks down and fiddles with her phone case for a second, not coordinated like usual. 'hey, so, feel free to tell me to fuck off forever, if you want, but one of my best friends is... basically the best.' she squints, focusing so intently and still producing a mildly incoherent sentence. it’s charming. 'i know there's no one that could — i know, mary. i know. but i think you'd like her.'

your heart aches, because beatrice lost ava but she came back; because beatrice has hurt all the same. and shannon wouldn't have wanted you to shut yourself off from the world. 'she's hot?'

beatrice laughs delightedly, pushing herself to sit up further. 'very, very hot. if you need backup, just ask ava.'

'ava thinks everyone is hot.'

'true. but, most of all, me.'

she says it with such stoned confidence it's hard to even tease her. 'okay,' you say, 'when should i meet your friend, then?'

beatrice gets out her phone and slowly clicks through a few screens, then squints. 'she'll be here in twenty minutes for dinner.' she holds her phone close to your face, not at all steady, but you do make out your name and then ray making the best birria ever (for ava) one right after another.

'should i stay for dinner, then?'

she grins. 'i think i'm falling back asleep. so you should definitely stay. she could use some company.' she stares into space for a minute. 'let me send ava a voice note so they know not to pester you when they get back.'

'maybe a text?'

beatrice just shrugs and sends a meandering three minute long voice note, sort of explaining the situation but mostly proclaiming her undying love, and so you follow up with a coherent text saying, beatrice wants me to meet your friend. if things are going well, can you not third wheel? you owe me, and ava responds with a, FUCK YEAH!!!!! you're the best and ray is the best!! bea is a genius, and then, i'll make up so many totally valid excuses to leave you two alone, and, finally, the patio is very romantic. dig into bea's stash of very expensive wine and whiskey too, in my honor.

you laugh, and tell beatrice that ava was excited about the idea.

'speak of the devil.'

ava puts her tote down when she gets in the front door, a bouquet of flowers poking out from it. 'mm, not quite.' she kisses bea on the top of her head and then proceeds to do the same to you, although you swat her away. 'try god's favorite angel instead.'

'i will never.'

beatrice looks at ava, adoringly, too much for you to stomach sometimes. 'want to go to the balcony? i can nap out there just as easily as in here.'

'totally,' ava says. 'mary, have fun with ray. you can text me when the birria is finished and i'll just pop by to grab some for us. but she really is awesome, even just as a friend.'

'a spontaneous blind date,' you say, although you do have a few butterflies in your stomach. it doesn't feel wrong, to go on a date, although you do feel sad, and longing, because you had something beautiful and it didn't last. but, still: 'this better be as fun as you promise.'

'it definitely will be,' beatrice slurs, and ava looks at you amusedly.

'okay, you're way too high to be trusted in this situation. let's go.'

'i don't need help,' beatrice says, although it's a full task to watch her sit up and get her crutches from their resting place against the side of the couch. but she does it, slowly and unsteadily, and ava puts a careful hand to her low back when she wobbles. but then all is well, and beatrice tries to wink at you and fails, and it makes you laugh. 'have so much fun, mary.'

you promise to try, and you pick up the book ava had been reading earlier, pretending to do something with your hands as you hear them bicker as they very, very slowly make their way up down the hall, but eventually a door closes and it's quiet. hey shannon, you pray, as you often do, i might kiss someone else soon. sorry. but i think you would be happy in this life, especially if she's hot. ava is annoying, but so good; you would be proud of her. beatrice you're always proud of, i know it. i love you, in the next.

it settles something inside you, and when ray lets herself in their front door, your breath catches a little: she has a mess of black curls cut to her ears, and tattoos down both arms, a linen button up only fastened halfway up her chest, a few chains sitting there. she's smaller than you, and she tucks her sunglasses into her shirt and then smiles.

'hey,' she says, 'i'm ray. she/her pronouns. beatrice sent me a very incoherent voice note that her "hot friend mary" was here, finishing out a business trip, and that i should woo you by making dinner tonight.' she holds up her grocery tote. 'hopefully you're mary, because you are in fact very hot.'

you laugh. 'well, i don't know about the last part, but i am mary. beatrice and i go way back.'

'amazing.' she settles, familiar, at the kitchen island. 'do you like to cook? beatrice and ava are disasters.'

'i love to cook.'

she grins. 'good,' she says. 'birria is their favorite, so it's good to know, if you'll be around for a bit.'

she's beautiful, and her forearms are strong and her hands quick when she starts to lay out the ingredients. you tell yourself to be brave: beatrice and ava and their big house full of love, overlooking the ocean. so you stand next to ray, elbows bumping for a moment, and she smiles at you in a way that makes you feel electric. 'i think i just might,' you say.

she nods down at the onions she's setting aside, but her smile doesn't fade at all. 'well, if you want help looking for a place, let me know. unless you want an insane house like this, in which i can't help at all.'

you laugh. 'it is beautiful, though.'

'yeah,' she says. 'i love it here.'

you think, as you let ray explain tasks and her great-grandmother's recipe, as you open a few windows and hear ava's laughter waft in from outside, like the sweet spices you add to the meat, as ray squeezes your hand, just once, after you finish chopping cilantro.

you might kill ava when she comes in to get their plates a few hours later and quips, 'oh good, you're already betrothed. congrats!' before walking away. you throw a chip at her that falls disappointingly short, but she laughs, and you think you just might love it here too.

//

angela

you're finding a table on the patio of your favorite wine bar when you see beatrice sitting at one near the railing, alone, writing in a journal. there's a part of you that doesn't want to interrupt but she's quiet, whenever she stops by for lunch with ava, and she reminds you a little of noel.

she looks up when you stand near, and then genuinely smiles. 'angela,' she says, and stands very properly; it's a breath of fresh air to see young people with manners still. 'what a nice surprise.'

'i can see you're busy.' gesture to her journal. 'so please feel free to say no, but would you mind if i joined you?'

'not at all,' she says, and then pulls out a chair for you before sitting back in her own and closing her journal. 'to tell you the truth, i haven't even ordered any wine yet.'

you laugh, charmed immensely already. 'well, shall we split a bottle? they have my favorite chardonnay here, if you like that.'

'i — yes,' she says. 'ava is working this afternoon, so that would be wonderful. i appreciate your company.'

she's a kid, you realize, all over again with a pang in your chest: when ruth had told you that she had invited someone in her early twenties to come to water aerobics, but then you had met ava and all of your frustration had gone by the wayside. 'likewise.' the server comes, one of your favorites, and asks happily if you'd like your typical glass. 'a bottle, instead, tommy,' you tell him, and he salutes with a grin, which makes beatrice laugh.

'you like this spot?'

'i do,' you say. 'it gets good light.'

she seems to understand what you mean, because she leans back and lets the sun rest on the planes of her face peacefully. ava hadn't stopped talking for days about beatrice cutting her hair, months ago, even more excited than when she herself had shown up with pale purple hair — ridiculous, in a way, but she had been happy and young and so you grant her it all. beatrice's has grown out a bit by now, which ava still talks about, and her muscles, and the freckles across her nose, all exuberant young love — but you can tell, you've always been able to tell, when someone feels comfortable in their skin. the utter joy of being a space where someone can become.

'i love the light here,' she says. 'i grew up in london, and then switzerland, so i've come to appreciate the sun.'

'my wife wanted to move here for that reason alone.' you laugh. 'we met in oakland, but she was so set on los angeles.'

beatrice seems deeply unfazed by wife, and thanks tommy for pouring her wine after you taste yours. 'how long were you together?'

'fifty-four years,' you say. 'married for fifty-two of them.' you roll your eyes. 'legally, for eleven, but i never cared much for that distinction.'

'of course,' she says. 'and, not to sound trite, but i'm sorry, for your loss.'

and it had been a profound one: you had no idea how to get up each morning, until ruth had dragged you to this ridiculous water aerobics class. so you smile, gently. 'noel was a light in this world. the breadth of that love — i wouldn't trade a single minute.'

she swallows, glances down and swirls her wine. 'i can only hope to have the same, with ava.'

you reach out and squeeze her hand. 'if it's all dependent on love, i'm certain you will. ava adores you.'

she sighs, looks into the sun again. 'i used to be a nun.'

you can't help but laugh. 'did you really?'

beatrice nods, and waits a moment before she laughs too. 'it seemed like the only thing that would keep me safe, from — from myself, i suppose. but then, of course, i met ava. a divinity, i suppose, more than i could've ever imagined, really.'

'noel was a reverend,' you say, and remember the benedictions she prayed at your feet: her neat suits and short hair and round-rimmed glasses as she got older, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiled.

beatrice smiles. 'would you like to tell me about her?'

you would, very much so, and so you do: you met at a protest when you were nineteen and she was twenty-one, and you kissed her two nights later underneath an apple tree just starting to blossom. she put you through law school, working three jobs, and when you finally got a job at a firm and ferociously worked your way up — for her — she went to divinity school. you had many children — beautiful boys in love with each other; beautiful girls in love with themselves — pass through your home, often showing up at noel's church with no family anymore. you fed them, and you had to watch so many of them die. and then — and then the world healed itself, in one particular way, and it was never easy; it has never been easy. you married noel once, in your garden, with your friends, and you married her again in her own church, years and years later, the rainbow flag outside and the stained glass the same kind of holy. it has been hard, and sorrowful, but it was worth it. the joy was worth it.

you see the gentle set of beatrice's shoulders, the way her chest is flat beneath her shirt, and you know she understands.

she sniffles and wipes under her eyes and then squeezes your hand tightly. 'i don't quite know what to say, but — thank you, for sharing. what a beautiful love.'

you clear your throat. 'yes. but, noel made me promise not to live a boring life, or to withhold any of my love. so if you have any aunts who might be interested —' you wiggle your eyebrows — 'please let me know.'

she laughs. 'unfortunately, i don't. but i'll be on the lookout.'

you make a big show of acting disappointed. 'well, i know you're taken — not that that has always stopped me before — but i'll take pity on ava. i like her.'

beatrice blushes, all the way to the tips of her ears, and you grin.

you finish your bottle of wine together, and she tells you about judo and aikido and about ava's new interest in geology; she asks about your greyhound rescue, malcolm, and his newest sweaters. she pays the bill, despite your protests — it's a particular joy of mine to use my homophobic parents' trust fund for queer gifts and adventures.

'bring ava, for dinner sometime,' you say. they have a house on the beach and a love that's so safe, so bright — but the world harms and harms and harms, and they are your children too.

'i would love that,' beatrice says, quiet and grateful. 'i would really love that.'

//

dakota

training service dogs is, in your opinion, the absolute best job in the world. your organization focuses on multi-purpose dogs, for medical and psychologic assistance, often both. it's a challenge, especially if handlers aren't fully equipped. but sometimes, it's your favorite thing ever.

when you first meet ava — and beatrice — you're charmed immediately. ava has a cane but sits down on the floor without hesitation to take korra into her lap, who immediately pinch bites but nuzzles into ava's arms anyway. 'bea,' she says, 'oh my god.'

'her name is korra,' you say, and beatrice laughs, just once, when ava perks up. 'she's small enough that you could change it, if you wanted to, but —'

'i love legend of korra,' ava cuts in. 'bisexual heroine! sick back tattoo. hot brilliant rich girlfriend.' she soots beatrice a wink, which makes her blush. 'i am not changing a perfect name for a perfect girl.'

'well then,' you say, 'do you mind if i sit with you and walk you through the plan?'

'oh,' ava says, 'i can get up. i just got excited.'

you wave her off. 'i like to play with her too. she's so sweet.'

'bea,' ava says with a grin, relieved that your decision was exclusively about the dog and nothing to do with her disability, 'you wore your old jeans just for this occassion.'

beatrice sighs, but she sits without any hesitation and melts, a little, when ava puts a squirming korra in her arms. 'hi, sweet girl,' she says, and runs her hand along korra's soft head and her feather-light spine. then she looks at you, 'do you mind if i record you? just audio. i know you'll give us all the instructions, but i find it helpful to have all forms of processing available so i can understand best.'

ava shoots you a glance sideways, trying not to laugh, but you keep it together. 'sure.'

beatrice and ava come in every session, five minutes early, with korra making incredible progress. eventually, ava comes by herself and happily explains that she's learned how to drive with hand controls on the days she needs to, which is fucking awesome. when you tell her that, she laughs and nods.

korra is a rockstar with her positive reinforcement training, and ava reports every time some new milestone she's reached. you'll work with the both of them for at least another year, but — 'you've done such an incredible job already, ava.'

ava shrugs, scratches behind korra's ears where she's happily sitting by ava's chair, calm and panting a little because she'd just worked on some difficult commands. 'i love to learn.' she shrugs. 'and i really love korra. i guess it's just — it is what it is, right? life and pain and whatnot. and, anyway, she helps.'

korra licks your hand when you offer her a small bite of a hot dog, and you swear she smiles at you. 'yeah, i know she does.'

//

marcus

Just do me a favor and look over the project before you roll your eyes at me, ekugbe texts you. admittedly, she is one of your favorite architects to work with, but she's also your ex. It's a good friend of mine, she follows up with, as if that's a plus. whatever. It's something you'll find meaning in, I promise.

it's annoying, because she's probably right, you think, and then she's definitely right when you open her email a few hours later and see detailed, gorgeous plans to redo a house on the water so that's it's ADA accessible. it's sleek and all clean lines, perfect materials planned; the owners, beatrice gu-knight and ava silva, you read, had clearly spared no expense in their plans, and, inevitably, ekugbe's mock ups are beautiful. you sigh. I'll meet with them, you text. you type out, But not because of you and then erase it, mostly because you sister keeps telling you that you don't need to send out more negative energy into the world.

you call beatrice's number the next day, and she's very proper and very british, and when you meet her at the house later, you're kind of in awe at how stunning it is already.

'we bought it as is,' she explains, 'but my partner, ava, needs it to be accessible for wheelchair usage now.' she doesn't sound sad, not a single regret at having to change one of the simplest, most well-designed and amazing houses you've ever seen. she's inches shorter than you but commanding still, straight backed and quietly confident, dressed in simple linen pants and a t-shirt, a cardigan thrown over her shoulders, a dark green beanie and lighter green glasses, barefoot — rich in the understated way that some people in los angeles are, palpably and casually, and you know that anything you need will be there for you, right away.

'i'd like to keep the doors to the patio, for sure,' she tells you, leading you on a tour. they space is designed to be indoor/outdoor, with doors that open all the way to a small hot tub and a giant patio. 'i'm sure you saw the blueprints ekugbe drew up — and, by the way, sorry, i know you have a complicated past, but she really did say you were the best, especially with projects like this.'

'it's totally fine,' you tell her, and when you see the release of tension in her shoulders, you genuinely mean it. she explains that they'll want to move the primary bedroom and bathroom onto the first floor, down a hallway that currently has two offices. you've contracted on many houses this big before, so the space is something of a blessing. 'that won't be a problem, especially since it doesn't look like the wall between them is load bearing.'

'great,' beatrice says. 'that's what ekugbe told me, so it's good to make sure.'

you go through the rest of the house: they'll need a wheelchair lift along the stairs, which won't be hard to install because it's just one staircase, straight up to a big enough landing that there won't be any issues. she wants to redo their kitchen and bathrooms entirely, so that everything will be reachable and safe. it'll be a huge project, but one you feel — even though your head is spinning at changing a house like this — is important. is a labor of love.

'ava and i will be here for the next two weeks, and then in europe for a few months. what do you think a reasonable timeline is for you? i would like to set up a rental for us, if you need longer than that.' it's not snooty, although the words are. it's matter of fact, just a series of tasks and logistics.

'as long as materials come on time, especially if we order them now, i should be able to do it in that timeframe.'

'wonderful,' she says, and clasps her hands in front of her chest, an endearing gesture. 'well, please send over anything to sign and payment methods, and let me know a start date.'

'will do.'

'also, marcus?'

'hmm?'

'can i help you blow the wall out?' she grins. 'i've always wanted to. i have four black belts, if that helps.'

you just laugh. 'yeah, sure. why not?'

/

ava sits in her chair, pretty, in the same linen pants that beatrice had worn the other day, which is kind of funny and kind of sweet. she looks significantly more sad than beatrice about the state of their house, though, as you lay down tarps in the office to protect the floors.

'i swear i only agreed to this because bea promised you'd let her use a sledge hammer.'

'it'll be beautiful, when it's done.'

she sighs. 'i really do believe you. just, a bummer, you know?'

'my brother uses a chair,' you tell her. 'i like projects like this. and, plus, this house is amazing no matter what. your patio almost brought me to tears.'

she laughs. 'yeah, we fell in love with it right away.'

beatrice walks in in a cutoff tank and work pants, practical boots, and ava groans.

'best roleplay of my life,' she mumbles, and beatrice rolls her eyes.

'thank you for letting me have a little fun, marcus.'

'of course.'

'do i need a hard hat?'

'definitely not,' you manage without laughing, and hand her a sledge hammer.

ava watches, riveted, as you and beatrice go at the wall a few times, and then beatrice pauses and looks toward ava. 'want to get a few hits in? it's very cathartic.'

ava hesitates.

beatrice just pauses, patient, and then says, 'unless your back is hurting, i know you'll be strong enough. it's not that heavy.'

ava grins and wheels forward eagerly, lifts the sledgehammer and then nods. beatrice offers her her safety glasses and then backs away to the threshold of the door. ava swings, just fine, and gets a good chunk of the wall to break off from where beatrice had already been working, and she laughs and looks back at beatrice with a happy, relieved expression.

eventually, your crew takes over, and beatrice and ava take their leave to a rental for a few nights before they go do whatever they're doing in europe. the house comes together beautifully, it really does.

at the end, you call ekugbe, maybe for drinks.

it surprises you, the light you're able to let in.

//

mari

'do you think i'll be faster than bea?'

you laugh, show ava where to put her hands on the wheels of the racing chair for maximum and most efficient torque. 'with practice, for sure.'

'gross,' she says. 'why not right away?'

'it just takes a little getting used to. but i'm certain you will, if you enjoy it.'

'well, you're ripped, so i'm enjoying it so far, that's for sure.'

you roll your eyes; you know both beatrice and ava well enough to know that ava's flirting is fun and entirely harmless. but, still, she's beautiful, so you allow yourself to preen nonetheless.

ava lets out a big breath. 'okay, let's fucking go, right?'

'i'll ride next to you for now, and then you can race beatrice.'

'sick.' she pushes a few times and picks up some speed, and you watch exactly what you'd felt yourself the first time you'd gotten into a chair like this: a big smile spreads across her face as she rounds the corner of the track without any problems. when she slows down you do too, and you're worried for a second before she just sniffles and wipes her cheeks. 'this is... this is so fun?'

'yeah,' you say. 'it's kind of the best.'

'as a kid, after i got hurt, and then, you know, after things started to get worse for me lately, i — i didn't think i could do this, ever. it's just — i feel so full. and so fast!'

'i didn't think i'd get to do this either, after i got hurt.' you'd had a complete spinal cord injury, when you were twenty, a car accident that wasn't your fault. your whole life had changed, in a split second — a track scholarship and rock climbing and snowboarding and judo evaporating, just like that, when you woke up from surgery, or at least that's what you thought. but your big sister had sat by your bedside and researched inpatient rehab, and financing, and outpatient rehab, and then, a fucking miracle in your life: paralympic racing. it's led you to do everything you loved before, just creatively, and, 'now i have four gold medals, so, here we are.'

'yeah,' ava says. 'here we fucking are!'

you reach over and high five her, and you look over to where beatrice is sitting on the bleachers; even from far away you can see her gay ass little smile at ava's joy.

'also, the gold medals?' ava says. 'extremely hot.'

you laugh. 'do you ever stop?'

ava shakes her head. 'hardwired, i'm afraid.' she frowns. 'unless, of course, you're uncomfortable, in which case i will stop immediately.'

'oh, no,' you say, 'keep going. it's fun.'

'i'm an excellent wingwoman, at any time. you just let me know.'

'i'll take you up on that soon, i'm sure.'

she laughs and takes off again, getting the hang of her form and how to lean into turns. eventually, she calls beatrice down from the bleachers; beatrice is probably one of the most terrifying athletes you've ever met, but ava's pretty fast already. they race a few times, laughing by the end, trash talking incessantly, beatrice eventually leaning down to kiss ava, both of them sweaty.

'last one back to the bleachers has to do the dishes tonight,' ava says, and takes off full tilt. she barely stops in time before ramming into the stands, but beatrice is laughing too hard to come anywhere close. it's joy, you think, in the hot sun. real joy.

//

mother superion

'so,' ava says, fidgeting in front of you, shifting from one foot to the other, rocking up on her toes. she's gotten older, a few years enough for you to be able to tell the subtle differences.

'yes, ava?'

'okay, i know this is stupid and antiquated, but, well...'

'is this a crisis of any kind?'

she shakes her head.

'then just breathe.'

she takes in a deep breath and lets it out, then sits on the bench next to you when you pat the space. 'i love beatrice.'

'i know.'

'i, well, i guess i'm asking you if i can marry her? i want to propose, and i'll do it, whatever you think, but — it would mean a lot, to me, to have your blessing.'

you hold out your hands and wait for her to take both. there is something holy in her back, something that you had thought was the most sacred thing in the world until you met her. but there is something holier, consecrate, in the way she loves — beyond the highest order you have ever known. in the way she loves you all, and life, but especially in the way she loves beatrice, one of your favorite people in the world. she died for it. you know, in a way that makes you ache, she would do it again.

but the war is over. the war is over, and you have watched them both become.

'there is nothing in this life that would make me happier than to bless your marriage, ava.'

'oh,' she breathes out, runs a hand through her hair, long now, with the tips dyed pink — just for fun! — and then smiles. 'okay. well, great. just gotta get bea to say yes then.'

you don't want to be unkind — you can feel the halo humming with ava's very genuine nerves — and so you don't laugh. instead, you ask, 'do you have a plan? a ring?'

ava lights up, and the halo's hum shifts to comfortable, warm. they'll go to switzerland, she tells you, and pulls up a picture of the ring on her phone — simple and elegant and handsome, all at once. she wraps you in a hug as you tell her so.

'i love you, ava,' you say.

she sniffles. 'i really love you.'

you feel the halo against your hand, through her sweater. 'please send me a save the date.'

//

'ava,' you say, as ava paces around their bedroom. 'bea is going to be right out there, waiting for you. after everything, you cannot possibly be nervous about this.'

she shakes her head. 'about marrying bea? definitely not.' she's in her dress, flowy lace and cotton, off-white because i'm certainly not a virgin, she had said while she was looking, and than had laughed and winked as you had rolled your eyes. 'i'm worried about the halo going off.'

you want to laugh, so hard, but it actually is an issue: most of ava and bea's friends and family don't know anything about the halo, mostly for their protection. 'i'm sure you can get all the glowing out on your honeymoon.'

ava does laugh, then, relieved. 'that's for sure.'

and it's beautiful: you get to stand in front of the altar your friend built for her partner, and you get to pray for their whole lives to be full of this stunning, soft love. they say their vows, and beatrice cries the entire time, which eventually makes ava cry, and then you cry, and then you all laugh.

'by the power vested in me by god, and the state of california,' you say, 'i now pronounce you wives.' ava laughs, delighted, and turns to bea, then looks at you impatiently. you roll your eyes. 'go ahead,' you say.

ava wastes no time, leaning forward to capture bea's lips in a sweet kiss, which beatrice lets linger long enough for a few good-natured wolf whistles from the crowd. ava kisses bea's forehead and they smile, alone in their own universe, before turning to everyone. there are cheers and you're pretty sure everyone was crying.

you get drunk on champagne at the reception and cry even more when you see beatrice in her tang jacket, when she tells you that you were right: there's no shame in loving ava; there never has been. and, a miracle, ava is hers. there are things more certain to you than faith.

'your marriage is going to last annoyingly long,' you tell her. 'i'm sure of it.'

she holds you tight. 'i'm sure of it too.'

//

salma

your aunts are the fuc—freaking coolest. not only do they visit often, but you get to visit them in california, where they live in a big house on the beach and sometimes take you to disneyland. your aunt bea teaches you to surf, and your aunt ava teaches you how to make a bunch of virgin cocktails — which you find very fun — and they both sit and do puzzles with you whenever you want, even if your brother gets bored.

your grandmother — you guess, you never met her and you've never even talked to her, but she was your dad's and beatrice's mother — dies one day. you don't really care; she apparently was a huge asshole to your aunt when she was little. your dad picks you up from school like normal, and you wait impatiently for asaad to make his way out.

your dad takes you to get ice cream and then tells you that she died. you don't care, which is maybe bad, but you don't owe her anything. people can be mean for no reason, to someone like you, to someone like your aunt bea, so you don't care.

your dad is quiet for a few days, and then your aunts visit. you do a little double take when your aunt bea takes her beanie off and her hair is shorter than you've ever seen it, but you hug her quickly, as tight as you can, your head reaching the middle of her chest — when your cat died in third grade your mom had taught you about grief, how it lasts a long time and it's okay to feel, how different cultures have different ways of expressing it. you hug your aunt ava too, and she ruffles your hair and cups your cheek. 'what's up, beautiful?' she says, and it makes you feel it, from someone so pretty: beautiful.

when you get older, your aunt bea will help you change your pronouns, and pick a new name — peace, you decide on — and she calls you her niece, which you love. when you get older, she'll be even more amazing to you, the way she's so kind in a world that hasn't been, the way she loves your dad and your brother and your mom, the way she loves your aunt ava.

for now, it's late and your aunt ava is asleep in the guest room, and your dad had kissed your forehead and gone off to the bathroom he shares with your mom. you go downstairs to get a glass of water, and you see your aunt sitting on the couch, peacoat rumpled and very still and, if your dad's breath was anything to go by, probably pretty drunk.

she looks up when she hears you, and then smiles gently, a little unfocused. you sit next to her, rub your hand along her buzzed hair with a laugh, and it gets her to laugh too. 'you look cool.'

she kisses your forehead. 'that's very kind.'

you play with her fingers, with the ring there, warm even though it's cold outside. 'you know,' you say, 'you've made the world safer for me.'

the sound that leaves her is between a laugh and a sob. you want to be smaller, just for a moment, so you could climb into her lap like you used to when she was little.

'i'm really sorry your mother sucked balls.'

then there's definitely a laugh: 'did aunt ava teach you that?'

you grin into her shoulder. 'i can neither confirm nor deny.'

she tugs you to her, buries her face in your hair for a moment and then wipes her cheeks.

'i'm glad i'm like you,' you say, the best you can for now.

'oh, darling,' she says, then swallows so she doesn't start crying again, you're pretty sure, 'i'm so glad. you are such a light in this world. don't let anyone let you believe you aren't wonderful.'

'i won't,' you say, a prayer, like you kneel and understand with your mom; a promise.

'and, you can always call me.'

'ew, on the phone?'

she laughs. 'or text, if you must.'

you burrow into her side even further. 'i'll call, aunt bea. i always will.'

//

g-d

of course, if there's anything you know, it's blessings.

you know beloved; you know holy. people call you by different names, all falling short, all trying to grasp at you. you know beloved, and worship, and belief.

you look down on them sometimes, because you can. ava — her name the familiar of eve; the meaning in a sacred language, life; something divine against her will in her back; one of your children who had faced more cruelty than she should have — laughs, every day. even on days that hurt for her, she smiles and she laughs and there is a love there: for your world, for its waves and the sun and stars and moon; she, too, sees that it is good. beatrice, gentle and unsure and certain, prays to you still, and to ava, which you don't begrudge her. she worships every day, the most faithful on earth.

of course, there are things you let run their course, the small joys and small miseries: swimming in the ocean, chocolate cake, the first fall of snow; traffic jams and broken wrists and lilith. there are some things even you can't entire shift: ava's broken back and the heaviness in beatrice's mind sometimes. but you watch them, from time to time, in their house on a beach that brings them wonder, when they visit the mountains and fall asleep in front of a warm fireplace, listening to a record that skips before you step in and turn the machine off.

you'll let them grow old together, of course — greying hair and ava's impatience with politics and beatrice's stiff knees in the cold. there's time, for the halo and for all of it, but ava died to save the world, once. ava died for love, and she lives for it too.

in this life, they say to each other, quietly and often. you let things run its course but you step in, from time to time: you will give them peace. they'll want more of them, greedy, and perhaps you'll let them — and the next and the next and the next.

but, of course, this life, this life — you make sure it's a good one.