#so much more bitterness towards the gods
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non-plutonian-druid · 1 year ago
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HUH.
i guess i should have been tipped off in the very first episode, when sally questioned the assumption that medusa is a monster. that they were gonna tie medusa more thematically to sally
but they made smelly gabe both more fun to watch and less shitty, (which do not necessarily go hand in hand), and it really made me think they werent gonna have sally kill him. but they are Playing Up the parallels between sally and medusa *hard* (which honestly... the parallels always existed and it astonishes me that i never noticed before. huge props to whoever decided to make it so much more concrete) which makes very little sense unless sally DOES kill smelly gabe.
maybe theyre gonna have sally do something else, but either way its Gonna involve medusa and Hopefully it involves murder and i am Intrigued
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dykedvonte · 2 months ago
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Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like
-💀
It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.
If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.
Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.
He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...
#this is less headcanons and more my thoughts of the intersectional horror this brings to mouthwashing which is also a thing it#already has but more directly in the mix vs just the class gender and positional struggle. like the idea he waited to confront Jimmy becaus#he could conceptualize the crime better because of experience with womanhood and also how it would've destroyed him in terms of being trans#like its weird to word as a comparison but thats kinda how empathy works as in an understanding and ability to project through aspects#like you found out your friend who has always had weird feelings about and relating to you is a rapist and got one of your other friend#pregnant and is now being openly hostile and aggressive towards you. You have only a few days to really think on all of this all the years#with him and how many oppurtunites he had that you blame yourself for giving him both in life and to do to you. You are starting to#realize that he may have done what he did to Anya because it was no longer viable with him or because of weird transphobia/homophobia#from Jimmy and god its so much and he should've know better and what did Jimmy do then - c r a s h#he is at such a small amount of mercy to Jimmy now and he can't protect Anya and it's terrifying because i know and you know that Jimmy is#giving him those weird looks again...#like it adds another layer of horror to things and while I don't think Jimmy would do anything to Curly it's heavily implied he targeted he#because of relatively more important position and getting Curly to have doubts about him as a power play and Curly knows Jimmy well enough#that him immediately exerting his authority and power would set him off after already having been mad about it and even when doing#damage control it still set him off. like its the horror of accidenlty siding with your oppresser and hurting other like you only to then b#stabbed in the back again by the person who took advantage of your nature like its so complext but my actual trans curly headcanons#are just a little bit happier like i imagine he was the first on the boys soccer team and a star player. maybe he and jimmy even picked ou#his first offical “boy” clothes and Jimmy picked most so he looked like the grungiest white boy but she was a boy so it didn't matter cause#it was with his friend who accepted him and I bet on the bed he looks back at all those moments and notices the little details that his#friend wasnt actually so happy but he can't be certain when he started looking so bitter or hes just imagining out of paranoia cause he jus#cant know and even if he could he wouldn't want to ask like god thinking about Anya and probably being a little glad if not heartbroken#that she did get out of it in the end like trans curly and anya destroy me even more its so upsetting like he didn't realize how much he go#you girl and waited to act like it was cowardice but then would she not realize what hes realizing? should that be a grace or more of a#condemnation in her mind like what are her thoughts? espically during the scene Jimmy hits Curly like she had to hear and what did she thin#they are tormented in a similar hells with the same demon and its fascinating#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#anya mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing
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my experience with maxing out the twins' friendship is just-
Hawke: So, Carver, my dear baby brother who I love and adore, I only need +10 more points to max out your friendship. I've done the grind; through gritted teeth I've kissed templar ass so that we don't raise suspicion. I've supported and defended you and let you take the lead whenever I could. You're my favorite warrior. I took you to the Deep Roads with me because you desperately wanted to go and then made you a warden and you found a place, a purpose. I've practically written my own guide on how to earn as much friendship with you because I love you and it's totally worth it so can I please please have the last +10...? Carver: Hawke: Carver please I'm begging you Carver: Carver: +5 Friendship Hawke: AAUUGGGHHLKSAJDLKAJSDLK-
Hawke: So, Bethany, my dear sis- Bethany: +50 Friendship Hawke: Bethany: :)
#dragon age#dragon age 2#da2#bethany hawke#carver hawke#i love them both they're my favorites#but oh my god the grind of maxing out carver's friendship because it's absolutely worth it and then playing another run with bethany#where i blinked and suddenly her friendship was maxed out was a wild experience sksksk#and it's interesting to think about how carver is 'difficult' when it comes to getting friendship whereas bethany already starts with +50#so it's easier to max her out just by being kind to her and doing her quests early#but after act 1 carver becomes so much softer when your friendship is high with him BUT bethany? i'm leaning more toward making her a warde#and i know she's going to be so resentful of me for it despite having maxed friendship like that's so fascinating??#how the twins start off on such opposite ends with different attitudes toward hawke?? and how after act 1 they switch??#well for the warden routes anyway... i refuse to let carver join the templars and i really REALLY don't want bethany to go to the circle#she won't be happier there no one can convince me she's happier as a circle mage... 'accepting your place' isn't the same as being happy#carver can find a place he's content with whereas bethany is screwed over either way since her magic isn't something she can just let go of#like yes both twins are bitter that they didn't survive the deep roads but carver's always worn his bitterness on his sleeve#whereas bethany felt she had to hide hers because she felt she had to be grateful for the sacrifices her family made for her#and now they are both trapped and free at the same time... carver just happens to thrive but bethany feels she traded one cage for another#ugh the hawke twins THE HAWKE TWINS Y'ALL#I just want them to be happy and loved and alive... why is that too much to ask for??
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XO is actually a fascinating song from a Christian perspective but idk if I can figure out how to put it into words
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darabeatha · 1 year ago
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/ A.sclepius having Lichtenberg scars somewhere in his body from his myth when Zeus struck him with a thunderbolt― (x)
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#;a.sclepius#I SAW THIS AND I WAS LIKE -HEAD ON HANDS-#kind of like how its common to think of i.zou having a scar all around his neck from his past life#/long story short of his myth; a.sclepius became such a skilled doctor that h.ades complained to z.eus that they just had to get rid of him#(this being out of fear that he would grant the key to immortality to humans)#he was healing everyone and basically disrupting the way things worked bc people did not die and they couldnt have this guy roaming around#so z.eus struck him down with lighting#and then a.sclepius' dad (apollo) was like noooo my sonnnn#and to ease his rage z.eus went like ok fine; and turned a.sclepius into a constellation#this is why in f.ate he has a dislike for the gods; he thinks that they get in the way of progress out of selfishness#his beef with a.pollo is more of a fate interpretation as i couldnt find records in regards to his feelings towards his mother#but i find that it gives him more background and its an interesting idea;;#coming back to the matter of scars-#if he did have them; i feel like he would feel bitterness upon seeing them in the mirror; like a sort of haunting memento mori#that if you take a step further the gods will take control over the fate of men despite themselves fearing it#of the irrationality of the gods; of that powerlessness;#he wouldnt cover them on purpose because he tends to think its pointless to wander in the past when there is so much to do in the present#and -for- the future#but deep down he -does- still feel spite and resentment and he does not forget#;dl
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xamaxenta · 2 years ago
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It’s difficult to not feel discouraged sometimes when your partner is also an artist and happens to be faster than you in every conceivable way
This doesn’t bother me often because everyone is different and comparing production time and skill against each other or anyone is detrimental mostly and its ok to have your own workflow
but it does weigh on me vaguely sometimes sometimes that she can finish 2-3 full coloured pieces within a week and ive been painfully scratching out the same number but theyre only sketches that ill never revisit within a month
None of this actually matters in the long run, it just makes me feel bad on occasion
#like i should be doing more#im very sorry for complaining so much online#i just dont really have any other way to express myself#i know some of you have generously and kindly reached out to me to offer an ear#but my fatal flaw is i cant talk to anyone about my problems i just idk it was beaten into me that none of it matter#matters or my problems arent a big deal and i know ots healthy to think actuallt my problems are worth talking about or a big deal#but its hard to change a behaviour that was kinda literally beaten jnto you that talking about stuff likw this is a waste of time#i guess i just feel bad that i could do more and i dont because i dont want to#but i also want to if that makes any sense at all#i suppose it also doesnt help that alot of the work im doing right now i actually sorta hate like none of it is good to me personally#i want to stop being toxic towards myself#i just wanna stop hating me and who i am and what i do every step of the way#but that mean little voice inside me is like ahh. it wont shut up#I always say i need a break or more time but what am i gonna do with it#doing nothing at all isnt fulfilling#it sounds. sad like what teenager me did and i dont want to be or feel like that ever again but its fuckjng hard#this is so woe is me#im a liar bc i say the main text doesnt bother me but it bothers me alot im very envious of her speed prolificness and drive to create#and i have none like thats so unfair#this makes me sound ultra bitter god fucking damn it#i want to go to sleep and genuinely never fucking wake up again#please im done i just dont want to
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er1nne · 24 days ago
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fix this
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⸝⸝⸝ ⑅ —໒ྀི ִֶָ rafe’s impulsive actions and failed attempt to fix things with a ignite a heated argument, leaving you feeling unseen and misunderstood.
word count 1.7k
warnings : yelling & arguments so angst but ends on a good note / fluff
AN: the problem is left ambiguous & left to the imagination so you can make up the problem, you guys loved the last one lol :) i have plenty more in the vault so let me know if y'all want them. enjoy!
(please do not copy or plagiarize, this is my original work subject to copyright)
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Rafe knows he’s in deep shit. He can tell he’s in deep shit. And he barely knows how he got here...nope he totally know how he got here.
The weight of it presses on his chest like a cinder block, a suffocating reminder of the mess he’s made. It’s the first thing he feels when he hears your footsteps stomping up the stairs on to the porch. The tightness in his stomach churns, and his hands instinctively find the edge of the counter, gripping it hard enough that his knuckles pale.
He rubs his hand over his jaw, rough and restless, staring at the front door like it might swallow him whole. It doesn’t. The door swings open, and there you are—eyes already blazing with fury, every bit of it directed at him.
You slam the door behind you with a force that makes him flinch. The sharp crack of wood echoes in the silence before you speak.
“I can’t believe you, Rafe!” you snap, your voice trembling, sharp enough to cut. “Do you ever think? Like, at all?”
The way you look at him—like he’s the worst kind of idiot—makes him stiffen, though he leans back against the counter, trying to feign some level of calm. It doesn’t work. He hates that look, not just from you but from anybody.
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he says, shrugging in what he hopes comes off as nonchalant. But his voice falters just slightly, betraying him. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say, even as the words leave his mouth. Way to put a foot in your mouth.
“Oh, my God.” You throw your hands up, your movements jerky, overwhelmed. “You didn’t think it was that big of a deal? Of course, you didn’t. You never think!”
The accusation hangs heavy in the air, sharp and piercing. He runs a hand through his hair, yanking at the strands in frustration. There you go again. Can't you tell he's sorry. Why'd you have to go there of all places. Why’d you have to say it like that? “Alright, just—calm down for a second,” he says, his tone already edging into defensive territory. “You’re making it sound worse than it is.”
“Calm down?” you repeat, and there’s a bitter edge to your voice that makes his stomach twist. “You think I’m overreacting?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he fires back, the words snapping out of him before he can stop them. His shoulders are tense, his movements jerky as he gestures vaguely between the two of you. “I’m saying I didn’t mean for it to be—whatever this is.”
You scoff, shaking your head as if the audacity of his explanation is too much to comprehend. “Unbelievable. You don’t even get it, do you? You don’t care how this makes me feel. You just do whatever you want, and I’m supposed to just—deal with it?”
“That’s not fair,” he says through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching as he pushes off the counter. “I didn’t do this to hurt you.”
“But you didn’t care enough to stop and think about me, either,” you shoot back, your voice rising with each word. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To know that I don’t even cross your mind when you make these dumb, impulsive decisions?”
The words hit him hard, like a gut punch he didn’t see coming. He exhales sharply, his frustration boiling over. He paces a few steps, his hands restless, like he’s trying to find an outlet for the tension coiling in his chest.
“Look, I—I��m trying, alright?” he says, his voice rough and strained. “I know I screwed up. That’s why I got you this.”
He gestures toward the counter, where an expensive box sits, perfectly wrapped with a crisp bow. It’s something he picked up earlier, certain it would fix everything. Now, standing here under your fiery gaze, it feels like a monument to his failure.
Your eyes flick to the box, then back to him, your expression darkening. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“What?” he says, his voice rising with confusion and a touch of defensiveness. He throws his arms out, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I was trying to—”
“It’s not about the damn gift, Rafe!” you yell, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your emotions. “This isn’t something you can fix with money. Do you think I’m that shallow? You think you can throw a couple of thousands at me and it'll make my feelings go away?”
Your breath stutters for a moment before continuing, “Do you think I’m like all the other girls you’ve bought? You can’t do that with me. You can’t just throw money at this and expect it to go away. You have to be a person—a human—with me.”
He flinches, the words cutting deeper than he cares to admit. “No, that’s not—I’m just trying to fix it, okay?” His voice rises in desperation now. “I don’t know what else you want from me!”
“I want you to feel something!” you snap, the tremor in your voice betraying the raw hurt beneath your anger. “I want you to stop throwing money at everything and actually care about how I feel. But I guess that’s asking too much.”
The accusation lands like a blow, and he’s left staring at you, at the tears brimming in your eyes. The anger drains from his face, leaving something raw and uncertain in its place.
“I do care,” he says quietly, his voice rough and uneven. “I just—I don’t know how to… do this.” His hands move in an awkward, aimless gesture, like the words he needs are somewhere just out of reach. His voice is low, almost a whisper. It’s the kind of vulnerability he doesn’t like showing—doesn’t know how to. But he can’t bring himself to look away from you as he peers at you with those icy eyes.
You scoff, shaking your head again, but you don’t storm out. He notices this, clings to it like a lifeline, grateful in a way he doesn’t know how to put into words.
“Look,” he says, stepping closer, his movements hesitant, cautious. His hands twitch at his sides like they’re drawn to you, but he doesn’t touch you—not yet. “I’m not good at this, alright? I screw up—a lot. But I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hate seeing you like this.”
Your shoulders sag, and for a moment, you look just as tired as he feels. “Then stop making me feel like I don’t matter,” you murmur, your voice softer now, but no less weighted. “Stop acting like I’m just… an afterthought.”
“You’re not,” he says quickly, his voice firm and insistent. He steps closer, his hands finally settling on your arms. “You’re not an afterthought, okay? You’re—you’re everything to me. I just don’t know how to show it sometimes.”
For a moment, you don’t respond. You just stand there, his hands warm and solid against your arms, the tension between you palpable. Then, slowly, you look up at him.
“I just need to know you’re willing to change, I need you to try...” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion.
The room feels smaller now, the space between you charged but quieter. His hand moves, almost hesitantly, until it settles lightly on your arm. “I don’t know how to do this,” he repeats, his voice rough and uneven. “But I want to. For you.”
You search his face, your gaze lingering on his eyes like you’re trying to find something—sincerity, maybe. And when you finally nod, your body relaxing slightly in his grip, it feels like the first breath he’s taken in hours.
“You better,” you say, your voice quiet but steady now.
“I will,” he promises. Rafe’s lips twitch upward, his own smile soft and unsure. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. His arms wrap around the entirety of your body, holding you in his warm embrace like he never wants to let go. You feel his heartbeat against yours as the remenants of his anger fade away.
It’s not a perfect fix. Not even close. But as he holds you close, he feels like maybe, just maybe, he’s finally starting to understand.
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divider by @crazyfrm!
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satoruxx · 1 year ago
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thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF
AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔
pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33
OK SO
it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.
the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.
well until he notices you anyway.
you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.
he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.
satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.
typical and so predictable.
some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.
and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.
but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.
suguru would probably like you too.
so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.
you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.
dammit.
"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.
"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.
"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"
satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"
realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.
"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."
satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.
you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"
he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."
the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."
satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"
you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."
satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."
your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.
honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.
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rafecameronssl4t · 14 days ago
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You Broke Me First || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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gif by @rafeyscurtainbangs
Summary: You didn’t expect Rafe to push you aside so easily for Sofia, but it wasn’t shocking when he called you from Morocco, confessing that she had betrayed him in the worst way.
Warnings: angst angst angst (haven't written this much angst in a hot minute) Sofia slander mb, reader ate in this one if I do say so myself 😝😝
Word count: 3,378
MASTERLIST
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divider by @h-aewo
Rafe exhales sharply, tossing his cap onto the polished table with a frustrated thud. He rakes a hand through his buzzed hair, his expression caught between exasperation and regret. "C'mon, baby, don’t be like that," he pleads, his tone softer than the storm brewing between the two of you. But his attempt at pacifying you only stokes the fire raging in your chest.
You remain unmoved, your gaze fixed on the pristine, manicured lawn of the country club, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as though you’re physically holding your anger in check. The vibrant chatter of nearby patrons fades into the background, the sound nothing more than white noise to the tension crackling between you. "Like what?" you snap, voice cold and sharp, refusing to look at him.
"Like you're fucking insecure!" Rafe bites back, his words slicing through the air without thought or care. Your head whips toward him, eyes narrowing in fury. "You did not just say that to me," you seethe, the disbelief quickly morphing into a sharp-edged anger that spreads like wildfire. Rafe stares at you, jaw tight, offering no apology, no acknowledgment of the weight of what he just said.
It only fuels your rage. "You think this is about me being insecure?" you spit, stepping closer to him, your voice rising. "You let her hang all over you, Rafe. Laughing, flirting, and touching you. And you just stood there, eating it up like a goddamn idiot while I was standing right there. Right fucking there. Do you even realise how disrespectful that was?" Your words hit like rapid-fire bullets, but Rafe just shakes his head, his silence infuriating you further.
"You couldn’t even pretend to give a shit about me," you continue, your voice sharp enough to cut. "Not a glance, not a word, nothing. You just let her make a fool out of me. Do you even care how that made me look? How it made me feel?" "It wasn’t like that," Rafe mutters finally, his tone dismissive as he runs a hand through his hair again, avoiding your eyes. "Oh, fuck off," you snap, venom dripping from every syllable.
"Don’t you dare try to gaslight me, Rafe. I saw exactly what it was like. She was all over you, and you let it happen. You didn’t even have the decency to act like I was there." Your voice is rising now, no longer caring who might overhear. "You want to talk about insecurity? How about the fact that you can’t say no to someone feeding your fucking ego? God forbid you turn her down, because then what? You don’t get to be the centre of attention for five goddamn minutes?"
Rafe flinches at your words, his posture stiffening, but you’re too far gone to stop. "You’re pathetic," you hiss, stepping even closer, forcing him to look at you. "You love it, don’t you? The attention, the admiration—so much that you don’t even care what it costs me. You don’t care that it makes me look like a joke. That it makes me feel like a fucking idiot for standing by your side." "That’s not fair," Rafe says quietly, his tone defensive, but his voice is barely audible over your anger.
"Fair?" you bark out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Do you even know what that word means, Rafe? Fair is treating the person you claim to care about with an ounce of respect. Fair is not making me feel like I’m in this relationship alone while you let random girls flirt with you because it strokes your goddamn ego." Your breathing is heavy now, your chest heaving as you glare at him, your anger a living, breathing thing that refuses to be contained.
For a moment, you think Rafe might say something—anything—to defend himself, to fix this. His lips part as if words are on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates. Instead, he just stares at you, his jaw tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of his silence hanging heavy in the air. His refusal to fight for you—to fight with you—burns hotter than anything he could have said.
"Unbelievable," you mutter, your voice dripping with bitter disbelief as you turn on your heel. You pause just long enough to deliver one final blow, the venom in your words leaving no room for ambiguity. "You know what, Rafe? When that Pogue turns on you, don’t you dare come crawling back to me. You made your choice." You don't wait for his response—if he even has one.
Your heels click sharply against the floor as you walk away, your back to him, shoulders squared. The lump in your throat threatens to choke you, but you swallow it down, your anger your shield against the pain threatening to bubble up. Behind you, Rafe doesn’t call out. He doesn’t follow. The soft scrape of his chair shifting against the floor is the only sound he makes, and it sends a pang of hurt slicing through your chest.
You don’t look back. You can’t. You leave him standing there, his cap still sitting on the table, the perfect picture of a man who’s just realised how deeply he’s fucked up. The realisation is written all over his face, but it’s too little, too late.
~
"Hello?" you answer, pressing the phone to your ear. The line crackles with a brief silence, heavy and tense, before you hear a voice—his voice. "She fucked me over," Rafe spits out, his words sharp and laced with anger. "She screwed with me and my fucking money." Your eyes widen, and instinctively, you sink into the nearest seat, your mind racing to process the flood of emotions his sudden call evokes.
His tone is frantic, his words tumbling out in a bitter, unrelenting rant. "What?" you manage, your voice tight with confusion. "What are you talking about, Rafe?" He exhales harshly, the sound of frustration practically vibrating through the receiver. "Sofia," he growls, the name dripping with venom. His words come fast, tumbling over each other in a frantic, furious rant.
"She—she knew. The whole time. She knew exactly what was happening to my money and just watched it happen. Worse, she didn't do a damn ting to stop it because she was a part of it." Your stomach twists as his words paint a picture of betrayal deeper than you’d imagined. "What the hell are you talking about?" you ask, your voice sharper now, though confusion still clouds your tone.
"She was involved," he says bitterly. "The deal—the fucking deal that cost me everything. She kept her mouth shut, let me take the hit, and now I’m the one left to clean up the mess. And the whole time, she stood there smiling, acting like she gave a damn about me." You exhale slowly, trying to process the weight of what he’s saying.
There’s an anger rising in you—not for Sofia, but for Rafe’s blind trust and his reckless decisions. "And what, you just figured this out now?" "No," he admits, his voice dropping to something almost pained. "I knew something was off for weeks. But I didn’t want to believe it. I fucking proposed to her, for God’s sake. Thought if I just… held on tighter, I could fix things. Fix us."
You freeze, the confession hitting you like a sucker punch. "You proposed?" "Yeah," he spits, the word dripping with self-loathing. "And you know what she did? She cried. Not because she was happy. Not because she loved me. Because she felt guilty." He laughs bitterly, the sound hollow and cold. "She couldn’t even bring herself to tell me the truth while I was down on one fucking knee."
For a moment, the line goes quiet, his words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You know, Rafe," you finally say, your voice steady but edged with anger, "this is what happens when you put your trust in someone who’s only looking out for themselves." He exhales sharply, the sound of his frustration practically vibrating through the phone. "I get it," he snaps. "I should’ve listened to you. You warned me, and I didn’t care. I thought I knew better."
"You thought you were untouchable," you counter, your words hitting him like a slap. "And now you’re calling me? For what? To say I told you so?" "No," he says, softer now, almost broken. "I don’t know why I called. Maybe because you were the only one who actually gave a damn about me. Or maybe because I needed someone to hear it—someone who’d understand what it’s like to be completely fucked over by someone you trusted."
You close your eyes, the ache in his voice tugging at something deep inside you. But you push it aside, unwilling to let his pain pull you back in. "This doesn’t change anything, Rafe," you say firmly. "You made your choices. You can’t just run to me every time they blow up in your face." "I know," he murmurs, the defeat in his tone cutting deeper than his anger ever could. "I just… I didn’t know who else to call." You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, feeling the weight of Rafe’s words sink in.
“Where are you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to make sense of everything. “Morocco,” he says, the word hanging in the air like a punch. Your heart stutters, and your eyes widen as you try to process his response. “What?” you ask, unable to keep the disbelief out of your voice. “With who?” "Sarah and her friends. Look, it’s... a long story, alright?" You scoff, shaking your head. The frustration that had been simmering inside you spills over, and you can’t keep the bitterness out of your voice.
“Yeah, I can fucking imagine. Jesus, Rafe. What have you gotten yourself into this time?” You feel your hands balling into fists, the anger bubbling up again. How did he always manage to get himself tangled in these messes? There’s a pause on the other end, the kind of silence that feels heavy with regret. Rafe’s voice comes through, softer, almost pleading. “Can you do me a favour? Please?” You hesitate, trying to weigh your options. After everything that’s happened, you weren’t sure you wanted to do him any more favours, but you couldn’t ignore the desperation in his tone.
“Depends,” you reply, keeping your guard up, knowing full well that Rafe’s requests often led to more complications than they were worth. He sighs heavily, as if the weight of what he’s about to ask is too much. “Can you go to my house and check if she’s still there?” You furrow your brow, confusion clouding your thoughts. “What’s she doing in your house?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, your suspicion rising like an unsettling tide. There’s a beat of hesitation before Rafe’s voice cracks slightly.
“I... I asked her to move in with me,” he admits, the rawness of his confession making the words sting like salt on a wound. You feel a cold laugh escape you before you can stop it. “Yeah, of course you did,” you mutter, your teeth clenching as the bitterness grows. The thought of Sofia, the same woman who had betrayed him, now living in his house—it doesn’t sit right with you. It feels like a betrayal in itself, a reminder of everything Rafe never learned. “Please, Y/n,” Rafe’s voice cuts through the tension, quieter now, softer, and the pleading tone in his words makes your chest tighten.
“I just need to know if she’s still there. I can’t trust anything right now, and I don’t know who else to ask.” You lean back against the wall, your eyes closing for a moment as you let out a long, frustrated sigh. You knew it was going to be something like this. You knew Rafe’s charm and his impulsiveness would lead him straight into another mess, but this? This felt like too much. “Fine,” you say, finally, the weight of his request heavy in your chest. “I’ll go. But you owe me one, Rafe.”
~
Pulling up to the house you were once so familiar with, you let out a deep sigh. The place looks the same, but it feels different—distant. Your hand tightens on the steering wheel for a moment before you shift into park. You take a breath and step out of the car, walking up the front stairs with a heavy sense of purpose. When you test the front door, your suspicion proves right—it’s unlocked. Slowly, you push it open, the creak of the hinges breaking the silence inside. The house feels empty, eerily quiet.
You move further in, your footsteps echoing off the hardwood floors, until a voice stops you dead in your tracks. "Rafe? Is that you?" The shakiness in her tone is unmistakable, and it irks you more than you care to admit. You scoff under your breath and follow the sound of her voice to the living room. There she is—Sofia, looking nothing like the confident, composed woman she used to be. The moment she sees you, her eyes widen in shock, and she quickly stands, hastily wiping her tears from her cheeks.
"What are you doing here?" she says, her voice a mix of disbelief and unease. You can’t hide the bitterness that creeps into your words as you respond. "Trust me, I do not want to be here," you roll your eyes, moving to sit on the single armchair across from her, the space between you two feeling as vast as the gulf that’s grown between your lives. "Why are you here, Y/n?" Her voice shakes, but you can see the cracks in her façade. She’s barely holding it together.
You lean back in the chair, crossing your arms. "I could ask the same of you. Rafe wanted you out of here." Her throat tightens, and she swallows hard, trying to maintain some control. "I'm not leaving until I talk to him again," she argues, but her resolve feels weak, as if she knows deep down that this battle is already lost. You scoff, your patience wearing thin. "Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. You're dead to him," you say flatly, watching as the color drains from Sofia’s face.
The fear in her eyes is almost satisfying. She’s starting to realise the weight of the mess she’s made. "I-I..." She stammers, her eyes darting around, desperately searching for an escape that isn’t coming. You lean forward slightly, letting the silence linger just long enough before you speak again, your voice cold, steady. "You know what Rafe can’t stand more than anything, Sof?" you begin, watching as she flinches at the mention of his name. "Backstabbers."
The word hangs between you, thick with meaning, and you can see the realisation slowly settle in her. There’s no turning back now. Sofia's eyes dart nervously, avoiding yours as if she’s trying to escape the gravity of your words. She opens her mouth to speak but stops herself, as though the words are caught in her throat. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, wiping her eyes again, but this time the tears don’t come.
Instead, there's just this raw vulnerability, something she rarely ever lets slip. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this," she finally mutters, her voice a broken whisper. "You don’t understand. I—" "Save it," you cut her off, your tone colder than you expected. "I’m not here for your excuses, Sofia. Whatever sob story you’ve cooked up, I don’t care. The damage is done. Rafe trusted you. He would’ve given you the world if you asked for it. And you—" You stop, swallowing the heat building in your chest.
"You took everything from him, didn’t even think twice about it." Sofia trembles, her gaze flickering to the floor as she struggles to hold back the overwhelming guilt threatening to spill out. "I didn’t want this to happen. I swear I didn’t," she whispers, her voice uneven. "I was hurt. By what he said, by the way he treated me. I—I was just trying to keep things from falling apart, and it got too messy. I couldn’t back out."
You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. "Oh, so that’s it? You were hurt, so you decided to screw him over? That’s your excuse?" Her lip quivers, and for a moment, you think she might break, but then her voice rises, desperate. "It wasn’t like that!" she insists. "You don’t get it. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I thought maybe if I just went along with it, I could fix things—" "Fix things?" you snap, standing abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"By lying to him? By betraying him? That’s what you call fixing things?" You scoff again, crossing your arms. "You didn’t care about fixing anything. You cared about yourself. You wanted to stay comfortable, no matter what it cost him." She stands too, her posture stiff, her shoulders drawn tight. "I was scared," she says, her voice trembling. "I didn’t know what to do. I thought if I stayed quiet, I could keep it together. I didn’t want to hurt him, I swear—"
You cut her off with a wave of your hand, the irritation bubbling to the surface. "Stop acting like I care, Sofia," you say flatly, your words slicing through the tension. "You think I’m here defending him? After what he put me through?” You let out a humorless laugh. "I couldn’t care less about Rafe. But you—" You step closer, your eyes narrowing.
"You think you’re special, don’t you? You think you can walk in here, cry a few tears, and fix everything? And the worst part is, you don’t even realise it." Her mouth falls open slightly, her expression faltering as she processes your words. She looks at you like she’s seeing someone else, someone she doesn’t recognise, and for a fleeting moment, you almost feel bad. Almost.
"You broke him, Sofia," you say, your voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "And now you’re standing here, trying to paint yourself as the victim. It’s disgusting." The silence that follows is deafening, a void neither of you can fill. Sofia doesn’t respond. She doesn’t move. She just stands there, her shoulders slumped, her eyes glossy but dry. For once, she has nothing left to say. "Get out," you say finally, your voice calm but firm, the weight of your words unmistakable. "You’ve done enough damage."
Sofia's lip quivers as she stands there for a moment, motionless, her breath hitching as if she wants to argue but can’t find the words. Instead, she presses her trembling lips together and nods faintly, her head hanging low. Without another word, she brushes past you, her footsteps hesitant but quickening as she heads for the door. The sound of her leaving echoes through the house—the shuffle of her shoes on the floor, the creak of the door as it opens, and the final, resounding click as it closes behind her.
For a few moments, you remain where you are, letting the silence settle over the space. The air feels heavier now, and your chest tightens with a mixture of lingering anger and exhaustion. You reach into your pocket, pulling out your phone with a deliberate slowness. Your thumb hovers over Rafe’s name in your contacts for a second longer than it should, but you shake off the hesitation and press the call button. The line rings twice before he picks up.
"What?" His voice is sharp, irritated, like he wasn’t expecting you to call—or wasn’t in the mood to deal with you if you did. "It’s done," you say simply, your tone devoid of emotion. "She’s gone. You won’t have to deal with her anymore." There’s a pause on the other end, long enough for you to hear him exhale. "Good," he mutters, his voice clipped. You don’t respond right away, letting his words hang in the air.
When you do speak, your voice is distant, detached. "Don’t call me again, Rafe. Whatever this was—whatever you needed—it’s over." "What’s that supposed to mean?" he snaps, the irritation in his voice sharpening into something defensive. "It means I’m done," you say firmly, your grip on the phone tightening. "Don’t drag me into your mess again. Clean up your own life next time." "Y/n—" You don’t wait for him to finish.
You end the call and toss your phone onto the couch, the finality of it settling over you like a weight. For a moment, you stand there, staring at the empty room, the silence pressing down on you. It’s done. Whatever mess Rafe and Sofia had created, you’d played your part in untangling it. But as you look around the house, you realise you feel no sense of victory, no relief. Just a hollow emptiness, as if something in you has finally burned out.
Without another glance, you grab your bag and head for the door. You don’t need to stay here any longer. You’ve said everything you needed to say, done everything you needed to do. And as you step outside into the fresh air, you make a silent promise to yourself: you’re walking away from this for good.
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heegyukeluv · 1 month ago
Text
complementary - the physics of your body [part 2] (sjy)
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pairing: brother's best friend!jake x afab!reader
synopsis: Jake loved physics as much as he loved you.
my's note: part 2 is here earlier than expected because i'm anxious 😀
warnings: trauma from parents, fluff, angst, drama/arguments, more physics stuff lol, pet names (babe, doll, good girl…), reader blushing/turning red!, reader have a bit of an explosive demeanor, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (f.), squirting, jk cum inside, overstimulation (f.), bathtub sex. lmk if i missed something!
wc: 13k
NOT PROOFREAD.
part 1
Saying you cried all night would be an understatement. Having feelings for Jake now felt like a bittersweet ache, hard to swallow and to have close to you. You couldn’t help but get into a spiral of darker thoughts.
Was it worth it?
Jake was in your mind throughout the entire night.
When you woke up the next morning, your eyes felt like they weighed a ton, and your body craved a rest you knew you couldn’t give it – not anytime soon, at least. Both physically and mentally, you were utterly drained.
You had spent part of the night wide awake, crying and torn between two nearly impossible choices: breaking things off with Jake or fighting to keep him. It was a strange, bitter feeling that sat heavily in the pit of your stomach. It didn’t dissolve with the tears or the long hours – it only lingered, raw and unresolved.
Jay ignored you on Saturday. And again on Sunday. You ignored Jake on Saturday. And again on Sunday.
Jake  assumed your sudden distance was due to your determined spirit, convinced you were throwing yourself into studying for your final exams. He didn’t want to disturb you and instead left sweet, encouraging messages to cheer you on without adding to your stress. But something in the way you responded – or rather, in the way you didn’t – planted a seed of doubt in his mind.
He called you and you dismissed.
The lump in your throat only heavening within each missed call and message left on read, realizing you could be hurting Jake as much as you were hurt.
You just didn’t know what to do, what to expect or where to run, because everything seemed wrong or difficult; Jay wasn’t there for you, and you couldn't reach Jake because he was the reason Jay wasn’t there for you.
Messy, confused, chaotic.
As the night settled quietly in your apartment, you opted not to leave your room. Your face swollen with heavy tears that spilled just like a waterfall. 
But then a sudden outburst of words being spoken loudly in your living room got your ears perked, your heart speeding it beats, your stomach knotting in despair as you made your way towards the noise.
“Where is she?”
“You’ll not see her.”
After feeling something was off, his instincts screamed for him to take action, so Jake immediately sped his car all the way to your apartment. He had his mind racing, spinning even, a dreadful feeling creeping inside his chest while each possible scenario played out in his head. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for what he found when he finally landed his eyes on you.
Your figure appeared in the doorway the very moment Jake asked about you, almost as if his words had summoned you, drawing you in like an unshakable spell. Under different circumstances, it might have been beautiful, poetic even. But not now. Not like this.
“Y/N! Oh, my God," Jake exclaimed, his wide eyes filling with a mixture of relief and alarm. He expertly sidestepped Jay’s attempt to block him, his focus zeroed in on you as though nothing else mattered.
You flinched as he closed the space between you, your fists clenched at your sides, trembling slightly as you let him pull you into his arms. His hold was firm but not overbearing, like he was trying to shield you from a world you desperately wanted to escape.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with urgency, concern dripping from every word. Then, without waiting for an answer, his gaze darted to Jay, his tone sharpening into something far more dangerous. “What the fuck happened?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and crackling with tension. The room felt suffocating, the silence a cruel prelude to whatever would come next.
Your body gave up. Jake's scent enveloped you like a mist, soothing and soft, allowing you to be your most raw version – the one in desperate need of refuge. The painful sobs tore through you, your body shaking against Jake’s chest as he tightened his hold protectively, as though he could physically keep your pain away.
“You two happened.”
Jake stiffened as Jay’s words cut through the atmosphere, your entire body shuddering, a pang in your chest leaving you breathless for a second. Jake’s head snapped towards his best friend, panic underlying his voice as he feared the worst.
“What?” 
Jay let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. “She’s my sister, Jake,” he could have stopped just at that, it would be enough to make Jake's terror increase significantly. But he didn’t, he made sure that his every word was loud and clear. “My little sister! Did you even think for one second before–” He stopped, gulping while a hand ran through his blonde strands, eyes never wavering. “Before hooking up with her? I know about your fucking casual relationships, Jake.” 
Jake’s grip on you loosened just enough for him to take a step back, but his touch remained close, grounding. He opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it, your voice raw and trembling.
“It’s not just a casual–”
“Please, stop,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with fresh tears, fluttering close, and not really aiming for anyone in particular. “I can’t handle this right now.”
Jay’s expression faltered for a moment, realizing he might have gone too far. On the other hand, Jake looked at you, confused. 
“Please, go.” You sniffed, unwillingly pushing Jake away from you. He stumbled on his feet a little, offering you the most lost, baffled puppy eyes. You wished you had kept your eyes closed, the pain in your chest growing heavier each passing moment. “I– I appreciate you for coming, but… But just go, please.”
Guilt. You felt the guilt slowly and painfully eating away at you. Guilt for hurting the one person who cared most about you. Guilt for letting things unfold the way they did. Guilt for liking – loving – Jake.
You were torn between confronting Jay, your only family that remained by your side to fight for Jake, and letting Jake go, as a way to go back to how it was before.
There was no possible choice, everything felt like a fresh, open wound and the argument only put pressure on it.
“Alright.” Jake whispered, his eyes lowering until they rested on the floor. “I’m going, because you’re asking me to,” he nodded to himself, quickly taking a glance at Jay over his shoulder before approaching you; the phantom of his touch lingering on your fingers as he let go of your hand. “But I’m not leaving you, Y/N. Not now that I finally have you.”
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Jay had not spoken a word to you in a whole week.
He avoided the slightest interaction with you, going out of his way to ensure that your paths rarely crossed. Yet, every day, he still managed to prepare your full meals, leaving them meticulously arranged on the counter, as if to fulfill a silent duty. It was a strange contrast – his actions speaking of care, while his absence screamed louder than words ever could.
Jay would leave the house earlier than normal and return just in time to prevent having you under his line of sight, a perfectly calculated timing you wished to end soon.
The unspoken tension lingered in every corner of the house, a suffocating reminder of the fracture between you both.
He didn't strict your routine nor made you change your lifestyle, but it weighed just as hard. It somehow felt way worse than when your parents treated you back then, yelling harsh words alongside punishments to put you back on the line or regain control over your life.
Receiving the heaviness of your brother’s silence cut deeper than anything else, mainly because he was your only true family.
On the other hand, Jake was dealing with a double loss. It hurt to feel like losing his best friend, to watch his messages being ignored and having his calls go to voicemail, to be prohibited to step into his house under any circumstances.
But the idea of losing you definitely started to hurt way more.
In the middle of the week, you called him. Your voice was weak, almost fragile, and it made his heart squeeze in his chest.
“I aced my physics exam,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to thank you… for everything.”
“No way!” Jake exclaimed, his voice lighting up with a rush of pride and excitement as he hid himself in the company’s bathroom. A big smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the one he always wore when he was truly happy for you. You couldn’t see it, though. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you would beat that exam's ass.”
That small interaction somehow felt like a bullet had lodged in his chest and he couldn’t run to the hospital to resolve it. It was almost robotic, far from utterly genuine, because there was a thick smoke of tension that suffocated his senses, that reminded him you were slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. God, he was your boyfriend! Not a random.
You giggled at his choice of words, a sweet, genuine sound that had not been present in days. The sound of your happiness made his heart shrink, as if it was both breaking and expanding at the same time. He wanted to hear more of it, wanted to make it last forever. The warmth in his chest turned into a wave of determination.
“Thanks to you, Jake,” you whispered, the words soft but carrying the weight of everything unspoken.
And without missing a beat, Jake was already planning his next move. “That’s it. I’m coming to pick you up.”
The certainty in his voice was unwavering. You tried to argue, to refuse, to come up with something to stop him, but he wasn’t having it.
“Your work–”
“I can leave early.”
“But it’s far–”
“I don’t care.”
He was already thinking of you and you only – of the way you deserved to be celebrated, of how he just wanted to hold you close, to kiss you. He missed you so fucking much it hurt, it painfully hurt.
“I’m picking you up,” he repeated, this time softer but no less sure.
“But–”
“Don’t even try to argue.”
You could hear him smiling through the phone, and it made your heart ache. Why did this feel so wrong, and yet so right at the same time?
“Wait for me, my angel. I’m on my way,” he finished, his words like a promise.
You felt your heart race, even if a part of you wanted to protest, to tell him that he didn’t need to go. But at that moment, you didn’t have the strength to stop him, so you waited. You waited for the man of your life.
Ever since, Jake began picking you up from your classes every single day. He would have his lunch with you and video call you during the night, singing a sweet lullaby until you fell asleep. He bought you a cake and kissed you deeply to celebrate your achievement, once again voicing out how proud he was.
You needed support, you needed someone that had your back, and Jake was your boyfriend, the one who should be giving you the comfort you deserved.
It was unbearable to watch you withering quietly and not having much to do other than offer some hugs and kisses, other than have his hands on yours, other than his caresses on your hair. 
However, as soon as you started to lit up again with your jokes and smiles, Jake realized it was worth it. His efforts were worth it, and he would keep doing a million things, a million times over, if it meant seeing you happy.
But there were days when you slipped back into the overwhelming sadness, due the silent reminder from Jay that his treatment of you had not changed – and maybe never would.
You couldn’t help but believe he felt betrayed, and you didn’t have the strength or courage to change his perception.
Deep down, you knew yourself well enough to understand that any confrontation would be ugly – because, beyond sadness, you also carried the weight of a quiet, lingering anger.
“He just needs time,” Jake said, offering you the same reassurance every damn day.
Two weeks have passed since Jay discovered your relationship with his best friend, but it felt like ages, painful ages, days that you had to drag yourself through it, finding perseverance in the depths of your soul to keep going, keep pushing through it.
And you don’t think you would be able to do it if it wasn't for Jake.
He was now hugging you, one hand kindly caressing your back, the other firmly holding yours. You had curled up against him in the car, your body trembling as you sobbed into his chest, trying to calm yourself by hearing his gentle breathing.
The sound of your sobs broke his heart. He knew you didn’t want to cry, but he also knew there was nothing he could say or do to make it stop. All he could do was hold you, let you pour out your emotions, and be there for you.
“I don't even know why I'm crying right now,” you said with a broken voice, burying your face deeper on the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s okay,” Jake whispered softly, his voice low, the kind of soothing tone he knew you wanted to hear. “You don’t have to know. Just let go, my love.” And so you did. The pain, the confusion, the despair, the anger, everything weighing on you felt too much to bear, flowing away through your wrenching tears. “I don’t know what to do, Jake,” you mumbled between sobs, your voice shaky, “I never thought he’d be like this… It’s been so long. I never thought I’d lose him.” Jake’s grip on you tightened. He understood the intensity of your pain; he could see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch, in your words. He never felt this way before, like lingering on a thin string of losing his mind, feeling so, so useless. Jake wished he could erase all your pain and sorrow, or at least transfer it to him. 
On that very day, Jake made a quiet promise of never, ever, breaking your heart. 
“You won’t lose him,” he said gently, nuzzling his chin on the top of your head, the shampoo scent calming his nerves a little. He hoped to give you the same comfort. “You just need to give him time. He’ll come around, I know it.”
You let out a deep, fragile sigh, your shoulders trembling as you struggled to stop the tears streaming freely from your eyes, sobs echoing through the car softly as you stained Jake’s shirt. He seemed not to care, arms around you as though he could shield you from the gloom that slowly and painfully swallowed you, as though he could maintain you with him, forever. 
Jake held you as close as possible, as reassuring as possible, as grounding as possible; a comforting, sweet, gentle cocoon anchoring you, as his hands drew subtle circles on your back.
With a mild push, you pulled away from Jake embrace just enough to murmur, voice raw, shaking. 
“Sorry, I dampened your shirt.”
“I love you.”
Jake said, nearly at the same time.
On that very day, Jake made a loud promise of loving you unconditionally forever. 
The words tumbled out of his mouth, soft yet firm, as though they had been sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the right moment. His voice carried a certainty that cut through the fog of your sorrow, the three words echoing louder than your sobs ever could.
You peered up with your glossy eyes, shooting Jake a flabbergasted glance that replaced your broken expression. His chest tightened, his heart nearly shattering at the sight of you, so brittle, so vulnerable, so utterly… destroyed.
Jake wanted to do more than just hold you. He wanted to wrap you in the warmest, coziest blanket and protect you from the world and all the pain it had inflicted. He wanted to whisper reassurances until his voice gave out, to erase every tear from your cheeks with gentle kisses, to love you so deeply that you would never feel this hollow again.
He wanted to shower you with love.
The same love he was sure he nurtured for you. The same love that had been haunting his entire being to voice out, suffocating, desperate to be born into the world you both shared. The same love he discovered he loved to feel. 
Jake loved to love you, because you made it easy to.
“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your brows furrowing slightly.
“I love you. I don't know what to do in this situation, but I know I love you. And I think you should know too.”
You hesitated, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while no words came out, because you had nothing that equaled the sudden sweet burning sensation that spread inside your chest as you heard those pretty words. 
Love.
You didn’t remember loving someone as much as you loved Jake.
Over the past few days, Jake had made it increasingly difficult for your love to remain a mere whisper in the depths of your mind. He had proven himself deserving of your affection, your care, your attention – because he gave just as much, if not more, in return. He had broken through the protective barriers of your heart, the ones that kept strangers away; except Jake wasn’t a stranger anymore. Perhaps, deep down, he never was.
Beyond the chaos within you, the silent, yet deafening conflict of your situation with Jay, Jake had stirred a yearning inside you – a desperate urge to scream to the world that he was the love of your life.
It was an uncontrollable desire to say it out loud, to tell him you loved him the way a painter loves their muse, the way a musician treasures their draft, the way a photographer cherishes their landscapes.
It was a love that was raw, sincere, genuine – achingly so. And it was a love you were happy to know it was mutual.
Jake was the most gorgeous star, brightening your profoundly clouded sky. 
“Jake–” You finally managed to speak, not exactly aiming for anything other than just… Say something. But Jake interrupted you with a kiss. 
“You don't have to say it back.” He murmured, lips grazing on yours as he cupped your cheeks, gentle eyes tracing the lines of your mildly swollen face. You still looked stunning. He couldn’t help but sigh, a mix of adoration and longing in his gaze. “I know I caught you off guard. I'm not asking you to love me back right away.” He tilted his head, his eyes filled with an undeniable tenderness – love, devotion, and the kind of affection that made your heart ache. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, like he was fighting to keep it there. "Just know that I, Jaeyun, love you."
You bit your lower lip, but it didn’t do much to contain your wide grin. The tears, once drenched in sorrow, now filled with uncontrollable happiness, exploding in your chest just like fireworks. With a fear of missing the time, you shook your head still in disbelief, leaning in closer as you whispered.
“I love you too, Jake.”
And just like that, Jake had his lips working on your mouth deliberately, distant from what you normally did together. It seemed he wanted to take his time, heartfeltly exploring and appreciating the attachment of your lips together, as though he was memorizing the taste of you. And it was definitely different.
It tasted like love.
Your tongues swirled in a beautiful languid dance, a rhythm only you two could follow, the kind of connection that felt natural and right, like two halves of a whole, complementary.
Jake’s hands slid down to your nape and waist, pulling you closer, guiding you to sit on his lap where you could feel his warmth radiating into you.
There was no rush, no urgency. There was only raw, honest love between you two – pure and untainted. No distractions. No lust. Just the quiet, steady beat of two hearts that had found each other in a world full of noise.
Jake loved you. You loved Jake. And right at that moment, that was all that mattered.
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The car engine sound soothed the silence with a steady hum. The radio played some random song you didn’t bother to pay attention to, not when your head was wandering amidst the chaos happening there. 
Your life was a complete mess and your anxiety bubbling up, not knowing exactly what to expect from that weekend trip.
Yeah, trip.
Just two days ago, Sunghoon showed up at your doorstep holding bags of your favorite food and wearing a pitiful face. You didn’t understand the sudden hug, much less the following waterfall of “I’m sorry’s” he mumbled with a broken voice against your hair while pulling you closer.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about you and Jake.”
You remember his words vividly, your confused state, your hands now knowing what to do or your brain not fully processing what he just said, because no one actually knew about you and Jake. But your memory made sure not to erase the following addon.
“I unintentionally snitched on you and him.”
Sunghoon stayed the whole night on the verge of crying – and you never saw that man with anything near to glossy eyes, so it seemed to be a real business for him – explaining what happened that night and how Jay found out about your hidden romance with his best friend.
His drunk ass – as he said – went back home way too earlier than both of you expected, and he could have turned a blind eye – ear, in that case – and said nothing if he knew the woman screaming Jake’s name in his bedroom was actually you, and not a random chick – his words.
So he absently texted Jay about it, thinking he was too high on his alcohol trip for hearing your voice screaming Jake’s name, teasing as he said “That would be crazy, right? That girl is really having a good time,” just to get under your brother’s skin as he always did.
However, for his misfortune – and yours –, it was you.
And Sunghoon even showed you the texts, where Jay replied with a brief, simple: “Well. Y/N went to Jake’s to study. Hah.” before turning off his phone and not receiving the next messages Sunghoon sent, trying to ease the situation.
At first you couldn’t help the bitter feeling on the back of your throat as you heard his side of the story, aware of his guilty part on it, nonetheless, to finally have a clarification of what led your relationship with Jay down to shambles was actually relieving, especially when Sunghoon said he had a plan to suggest Jay to go with them in a trip as a way to clear his mind, and then you and Jake would go as well without him knowing, and with everyone together – Heeseung too, since he was part of the friend group – it would be easier to face the problems and wrap it up with a happy ending or whatever.
Sunghoon reassured you that both he and Heeseung were on your side of the story; Jake was a good guy and they trusted him to make you happy. But Sunghoon also understood Jay’s position, since he had sisters, so he could try to help with that part as well.
Everything seemed perfect.
But it didn’t ease your comfort as you drove with Jake towards the destination, not even with his free hand holding yours and kissing the back of it gently every once and while. 
“Are you hungry, my love?”
Your sorrow facade slipped just a little by hearing Jake’s tender words and the cute pet name, still not used to it. 
“A little, yeah. But… I don’t think I can eat right now.”
Though you didn’t see, Jake nodded, knowing better than to try to pursue you out of your stubbornness. Now practically spending entire days with you, he mastered the art of knowing when to push you out of your shell and when not to. That moment you needed silence, comprehension and someone to be there for you just to make sure you were doing fine. 
You couldn’t be more glad for having a man like Jake in your life. 
And quietly, you both wished for that trip to change at least a bit of whatever was going on in Jay’s mind.
So when you both arrived – twenty minutes after the others – and Jake parked his car, you quickly spotted Jay’s blond hair amidst people in the hotel’s lobby. He wore a relaxed face, sitting on one of the couches and happily talking with his friends while they waited for you two.
The makeshift excuse Sunghoon and Heeseung told was that they were all waiting for other two friends they invited from college as well, even naming them as a way to ground the lie. 
Jay didn’t mind waiting for the said people, not at all. But he also didn’t hide his surprised and slightly disgusted face when he saw the actual two friends.
“I’m with you,” Jake muttered close to your ear, holding your hand tightly. “Always.”
You just nodded, feeling the weight on each step you took until you approached them, three pairs of eyes hovering over your presence. 
While Heeseung and Sunghoon happily greeted you both with big, genuine smiles, even hugging you briefly and muttering a quiet “It’s gonna be ok,” Jay, on the other hand, held an unreadable expression. 
“Hey,” you said back, voice coming in a small layered apprehension that didn’t go unnoticed by none of them.
Jay was fighting his inner demons not to cringe after watching you and Jake walking together, side by side like a normal couple, but it was hard when he knew how his friend regularly acted with girls he hooked-up with, how he loved to have a one night type of thing, never really committing. 
You deserved more than just a fleeting pleasant moment. 
They spent a life together as something similar to brothers long enough for Jay to be aware of the consequences of that relationship, the thoughts of you being hurt triggering the worst side of his protectiveness. And to think he would lose his best, closest friend because of that stupidity increased his emotions negatively – he felt betrayed, somehow picturing you both as selfishes who didn’t care about his side in the story.
Jay simply nodded at you both without saying a word, eyes flickering quickly towards your and Jake’s intertwined fingers, taking notice of it. You followed the motion and gulped, unconsciously squeezing your boyfriend’s hand. Jay then drifted his gaze to his friends, a dry laugh escaping his lips.
“Looks like lying to me has become everyone’s favorite pastime lately, hasn’t it?” 
“Come on, bro,” Heeseung shot back swiftly, not tolerating the way he changed behavior after you and Jake joined them. “You’re the one being an ass.”
“Am I?” Jay scoffed and pointed to himself, eyebrows raised skeptically. “I’m not the one fucking my best friend’s sister.”
The tension lingered in the air thickly, the silence immediate and edging the unbearable. You tried to ignore the people around you starting to take notice of the unfolding conversation between your brother and your friends. After all, the tension seemed to be rising and they were growing curious with the subject – your relationship.
Sunghoon was the first to notice the situation and your discomfort, especially as you quietly – and unconsciously – scooched to slightly hide behind Jake as a way to shield yourself from whatever could be thrown at you. At the same time, a spark of anger stirred in the depths of your soul, the same one you struggled to shove back down in order to protect your loved one’s from your possible explosion.
“Let’s not have this conversation here,” Sunghoon muttered and headed to finally make the check-in, the rest of you following him, each carrying their respectives luggages – Jake and you sharing just one that he insisted on holding, but you barely had time to proper acknowledged how hot he looked as he did so. 
The path to the rooms was silent, the tension thickening as all of you stepped into the elevator, avoiding eye contact with one another. Jake noticed your mad grimace – pursed lips, mildly furrowed brows – and positioned himself in front of you, facing you in order to shield any lingering stares Jay might dare to throw your way and to distract you with his puppy eyes that showered you with genuine affection. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft and tender, grounding you a little, even stealing you a small smile.
After going through a lot during your life with your parents, you had developed an explosive, even destructive, behavior that you struggled to restrain sometimes. It had become second nature to quietly bottle up every single detail of a stressful situation, letting it all pile up until the dam finally burst, and you ended up hurting the people you cared for.
You were terrified of losing it with Jay and consequently splattering on Jake and destabilizing the amazing, reliable relationship you just got in. That fear was precisely why you had been trying to act more reserved, more withdrawn. But Jay wasn’t making it easy for you – not even a little.
Not when he rolled his eyes in the childish way possible as he realized you and Jake were exchanging affection. Not when he was acting like an angry teenager that would prefer to ignore the problem instead of facing it. 
And that was why after leaving the elevator and before you could stop yourself, you let go of Jake’s hand, seizing the moment now that you were somewhere more private. It was still just the hotel corridor, but at least it wasn’t out in public. You turned to Jay and blurted it out.
“Why the fuck are you so mad for?” 
It was clear that Jay was taken aback by your sudden outburst, but you couldn’t care less. The tension in the air was thick as everyone froze in their tracks. Heeseung and Sunghoon exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to do next. Jay’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker as his eyes narrowed at you.
“Y/N, babe, wait–” Jake’s voice was soft, trying to calm you down, but the storm inside you was already raging. He moved to step closer, his hand hovering over your arm, but you pulled away, brushing him off.
“No,” you cut him off as sweetly as possible, raising a hand to stop him. You turned back to face your brother, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “So far, you’ve said whatever came to your mind, now it’s my turn.” 
Your voice dropped to a dangerous low, thick with underlying fury, no one daring to say a word.
“I really don’t get why you’re so mad about me being happy. You always talked about how much you wanted me to find the happiness I deserve, but now that I have it, you act like a damn child!”
Jay’s features sharpened as he clenched his jaw, eyes piercing through you. However, he kept his tone calm, he didn’t raise his voice, never. Not at you.
“Jake is not the happiness you deserve.”
“Woah, hold on…” Jake tilted his head, visibly stunned by Jay’s attack. He looked between you and Jay, trying to process the sudden shift in the conversation. His brows furrowed in confusion, a slight frown tugging at his lips. “Why are you saying this?”
You tried to ignore Jake for a while, really tried. But it was extremely difficult as you took notice of his hurted tone, which triggered even harder your ongoing feelings.
“How the hell do you know that? How can you even say that if you’re not the one in a relationship with him?” Your voice was louder now, sharp, and you felt the heat rise in your chest. Your eyes burned, threatening to spill over with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.
Jay hesitated for a second, his eyes shifting as if measuring his words carefully, but the frustration in his eyes was evident. He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice quieter now but no less intense.
“I know Jake. I’ve known him long enough to know he could just… leave you.” The words were like a knife, and you flinched.
“I would never–” Jake immediately protested, stepping forward once again, but Jay ignored him, continuing.
“And I don’t want to see my sister get her heart broken by my best friend,” Jay’s voice cracked slightly at the last part, as if he himself didn’t want to believe the possibility, but the fear still lingered in his words.
“Jay–” You started just for him to cut you off, the urgency in his voice building.
“Did you ever even think about my feelings in all of this before it happened?” His eyes were wide now, almost pleading. “No, you didn’t. And now you’re dragging me into something I never asked for.”
“No–” you shot back, voice rising, but before you could say more, Jay’s words came thickly again.
“Did you ever stop to think about what I’d have to deal with the outcome of this shit? To lose my best friend and see my sister broken because of some stupid choice.”
His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tense. The more he spoke, the more his control slipped, and you could see the anger building in him, mixed with a deep sense of hurt.
You took a deep breath, like a gasp, holding it in for a moment, before speaking slowly, your voice softening just a little. You were finally walking beside Jay’s line of thought. So that was the reason?
“And why would that be the only possible outcome? Why do you doubt Jake so much?” You paused, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “He’s sweet. Always so, so sweet and gentle. He cares for me. He loves me, and I love him too.”
As you spoke about Jake, the walls around you lowered just enough to let the raw honesty out. You felt his presence close at your back, his hands resting on your waist lovingly, managing to somewhat anchor you – your heart fluttered, your nerves soothing ever so slightly.
For a split second, you saw Jay’s expression falter. He wasn’t ready for your vulnerability nor your genuine feelings to come out. You could see it in his eyes – the battle between his protectiveness and the fleeting need to understand your and your point of view.
“I did think about you when I accepted Jake’s dating proposal,” you continued, voice growing quieter, but firm. “And I was scared you’d react exactly like this.”
Jay’s mouth opened as if he was going to argue, but the words died on his tongue. For the first time, you saw him hesitate, truly unsure of what to say next. 
His eyes flickered towards Jake, who held an expectant, yet determined expression. He knew Jake wasn’t going to give up so easily, and it was impossible not to see you actually liked, loved each other. WJake positioned himself behind you, close, protective, and somehow loosed Jay’s demeanor, the weight on his shoulders dropping, maybe for realizing his best friend could give you the protection and the love you deserved – the one he was in charge of until now. 
Jay struggled to gulp down his stubbornness; it was his most characteristic feature. However, on the other side of the argument was you, the little sister – now a woman – he cared for and would move mountains for if necessary. 
Would Jake be able to do the same?
“I’m sorry.” He muttered, quiet, eyes lowering to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks burning in embarrassment. 
You couldn’t hold back your surprised face, not when you expected the conversation to unfold in many possibilities where you would gladly, relentlessly counter each and every argument until you overtired him with your own stubbornness. 
“I– I was stupid. I only thought about myself, and… I mean, you seemed so happy before I found out about you two. I guess that was… because of you, Jake.”
The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, trailing down your cheeks as you stepped closer to your brother, wrapping your arms around him in a warm, comforting hug. He didn’t hesitate to return it, pulling you firmly against his chest.
“I really care about you, kiddo,” he murmured softly into your hair, his voice tinged with both regret and affection.
You let out a small, breathy laugh, sniffing as you tried to compose yourself. “I know,” you replied, pulling back slightly to look at him. “And I’m glad you do. But now…”
Turning your head, you glanced at Jake over your shoulder – a genuine smile curved his plump lips, radiating relief and happiness. His eyes shone with pure joy, watching the two people he cherished most finally reconcile. For the first time in a while, he looked truly content and not laced with condren.
“I have him caring about me too.”
Jake took the moment to approach you both, intertwining his fingers with yours as you stepped away from your brother. He brought your hand to kiss the back of it sweetly before voicing out. 
“I’ll make her really happy.”
“You better do,” Jay nodded, a small chuckle escaping him. “Just don't… screw this over, Jake. I'm serious,” the subtle change in his tone got you rolling your eyes playfully. 
“I won't,” Jake promptly shot back.
“If you ever break her heart, I'll hunt you down to hell to kill you,” Jay added within a warning voice and Sunghoon, who had been silently observing the exchange, burst out laughing.
“I second that, by the way,” Heeseung chimed in with a smirk and shrugged. 
“No need to worry. If I ever break her heart, I'll kill mys–”
“Shut up.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around his waist and planting a soft kiss on his cheek, your smile not faltering a bit as the rush of euphoria started to run in your veins.
Jay groaned, shooting the two of you a disgusted look before rubbing his temples as if trying to massage away the stress. It was clear he was struggling to get along with the bitter realization: his little sister, the one he had always felt an overwhelming need to protect, was now sharing intimate affection with his best friend – the very same best friend he knew far too much about, including his past escapades with commitment and… other things.
“And for the love of God,” Jay added with an exasperated sigh. “Do not… Do anything under my roof.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake quipped with a grin, earning another groan from Jay.
You couldn’t hold back your laughter, contentment filling your heart in the most endearing way. Things have been settled in the best way possible.
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"Now that we have a room to ourselves…" Jake murmured with a mischievous smirk, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "And you’ve aced your physics exam…" His breath was warm against your skin, teasing the back of your ear. “And everything is set fine again…”
"And my brother is not overreacting just because I’m sucking your dick…" You couldn’t help but say it out loud within a smirk, relieved.
Jake’s eyes widened in shock, then he gasped, his hands tightening around you to pull you even closer. He laughed.
"That’s... one way of saying it, yeah." He squinted playfully, a smirk still tugging at his lips, the same lips that now pressed soft kisses on your sensitive skin, making you squirm a bit within an unfading smile dancing on your lips. You were really happy. "I’ll take it."
The following atmosphere was full of warmth and ease and for a moment you just stayed there, in the quiet calm of Jake’s arms, enjoying the simple reality of being together, just a quiet love that felt endless.
It took just a second for you to feel something poking you from behind. You hummed.
“Now I understand why you were so excited to get to our room, baby,” you purred, leaning back onto his chest and swinging your hips a little, just to friction Jake’s growing boner. His answer was immediate; a soft moan traveling its way to your ear.
“What?” He feigned innocence, pulling you closer and helping you to move your ass straight on his hardening, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Quit the act, pretty boy,” you scoffed playfully as you tilted your head back to meet his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “You're not fooling anyone.”
You met Jake with hooded eyes that locked with your lips for a while before going back up to glaze your orbs, his tempting tongue wetting those beautiful lips you loved to kiss and feel on your skin before he turned you to fully face him, his hands on your hips firm, steady as he pushed you slightly behind until you felt the back of your knees meeting the soft end of the bed. 
In any moment you broke eye contact, nor words were being said while the atmosphere shifted under the soothing realization you could be completely free – with your noises, with your needs, with your relationship. 
You smiled, pulling Jake by his shirt so he could fall on the mattress with you; his lips searched for yours immediately, crashing together into a delightful dance of tongues and mouths, starving each other with a longing of years. You would never get enough of your boyfriend and it felt so good to know the feeling was mutual.
His hands wandered to where you craved his touch most; Jake had become an expert at reading your body, knowing exactly what made you shiver with delight, what brought you to that edge of the pleasant bliss you loved navigating together. But there was a specific subject unspokenly lingering in the air that made him try to move back and bring it to words. 
“You promised me something,” Jake mumbled against your mouth, but you didn’t give much care as you moved further up on the bed, your hands clutching on his neck to pull him with you, lips never parting. “Babe, your pussy–”
You smirked and teasingly shut him up with another torrid kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, eliciting a groan that made your cunt pulse and clench around nothing. The grip on your hips tightened and Jake finally parted the kiss, panting a little, his eyes gleaming with lust.
“Babe, you promised,” Jake protested with a whining voice and you couldn’t hold back your laughter, your eyes loaded with love, affection and burning desire drinking from his already messy features.
Jake’s hair was disheveled, a courtesy of your hands that would always tangle it, tugging and playing not only due to its silkiness, but mostly because Jake would moan beautifully into your mouth whenever you pulled a bit stronger, sending jolts of ecstasy through you. 
He had a sweet voice, and his noises sounded even sweeter; as crazy as it sounds, sometimes you wished to sip Jake until he was empty.  
“You’re so cute when you’re asking for my pussy, baby. How do you manage to do that?”
Jake leaned into the touch of your hand cupping his face gently, caressing his reddened and parted lips. His cheeks had a faint flush, half-opened eyes showering you with expectation, dilated pupils pleading, flickering slowly through your face.
“Please, I really need it,” Jake sounded urgent, his breath hitching as he pressed you on the bed with his body weight.
He was quick to dodge your attempt to kiss him again, taunting the wicked game you were building. His tongue traced the curve of your neck, and his lips followed with deliberate, tantalizing kisses – a striking contrast to his current raw desperate state. “Please…” he murmured, the plea thick with longing.
He was trying to nudge you out of your deviousness using your weakness, however, he wasn’t faking at all. Jake was genuinely desperate. “Oh? So it’s a need now? Not just a want?” You teased, your voice dripping with mischief as your eyes fluttered closed.
A sigh followed by a moan escaped you, your body instinctively arching forward as a wave of contentment rippled through your core. Yet Jake kept you firmly in place, pressing you into the mattress with precision, his grip restraining your movements just enough to leave you yearning for more.
“I need and I want, please…” He whispered against your earlobe before nibbling it; you felt his hand sneaking into your shirt nearly at the same time, his fingertips softly brushing your side, making you contract your stomach and try to squirm, but again, Jake was holding you strongly against the bed. “Mhm? Please?” He begged once more within a small, weak breath.
Being so close to your boyfriend always made you thrilled and also loosened. He presented you with the possibility of being yourself freely, a safe haven you didn’t know you needed. The trust you had with Jake was beyond imagination, it was with your entire being among every possible nuance of the wording; there was something about how he managed to always spark an interest of an ongoing desire that fueled your will to keep him near, physically and emotionally.
So when he offered you the prettiest hooded eyes, glistening with the plea he showed through every pore of his, you couldn’t really control the thrum of your heartbeat echoing louder and louder in your eardrums, nor your breath catching in your throat as you felt yourself swoon under Jake’s intense and eager gaze, the need of something he never actually had a taste burning in those pretty two brown orbs. 
Every inch of your skin tingled in anticipation, after all you admittedly – not out loud – longed to feel Jake’s head buried between your legs as much as him. Just with how he managed to kiss you, mouth and tongue working precisely, skilfully on yours had your toes curling, yearning to feel all of that on your cunt. 
“Don’t go quiet on me,” Jake murmured with a pout, one that vanished in seconds as the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. “Not when I wanna hear you screaming my name,” he quietly softened the weight of his body onto yours, giving you the room to move. Your legs instinctively opened. Jake noticed. “Just give me the word, baby.”
Your eyes fluttered close when you felt Jake lowering his kisses to your clavicle and so on, a moan slipping out of your mouth when he twirled his tongue on your hardened still covered nipple, sucking and motioning something you were sure he would be doing in your clit in a few. You just needed to… Allow it. 
“Give me the word and I’ll make you feel so good…” He whispered. Once more, you felt yourself pulsing, your panties with a pool of arousal at that point. “Mhm? Please? You deserve to feel good, baby.”
He glanced up at you, giving you more of what you would experience after you said yes; the eyes looking up, the mouth deliberately and masterfully doing its job of pleasuring you, the hands holding you still.
Your whole body ignited with fervent flames, bursting with desire and an anxious longing to feel everything Jake had silently promised you until that moment. Driven by the maddening need to have him, you finally spoke, with a voice you couldn’t quite properly find as you lost yourself in your imagination.
“Yes, Jake. You can eat me out.”
Jake let out a small groan of contentment, his smile wide and radiant as he positioned himself in between your parted legs and began to remove your jeans with your help. 
“That’s how I like it,” he murmured, biting his lip to hold back the surge of excitement and impatience building inside him. But the hunger to taste your pussy of you had been building for far too long to slow down now. “Good girl.”
There was no doubt Jake would make you feel good, nevertheless you found yourself unable to untense completely under the hot touches he was leaving in your skin as he undressed your bottoms; you felt awkward, especially because it was the official first time Jake was seeing you in such a position. He had fingered you and fucked you countless times, but it was the first time his face got that close to your cunt and you started to worry. To disappoint him after you had so carefully nurtured his hopes with that fleeting promise seemed unbearable.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands grabbing the sheets underneath you as you breathed heavy. Jake noticed your change of demeanor right away and soothed your skin kindly with his palms.  
“Relax, my love. Why are you so tense, mhm?” The question was followed by a tender kiss on your knee and a gentle caress on your other leg. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know, honestly,” you chuckled nervously, avoiding your boyfriend’s eyes that were trying to read your anxious expression. You were being serious about your lack of knowledge of what exactly triggered your sudden reaction. “I’m afraid of disappointing you, I guess. Does that make sense?”
“No,” Jake was quick to shoot back, a sigh of admiration slipping from his plush lips for finally seeing your cunt revealed before his hungry eyes. Beautiful, he could feel his mouth watering. “You can’t disappoint me, sweet girl.”
“What if I cum too fast?” You asked without giving time to Jake to answer, and he skeptically quirked a brow at you. Did he hear it right? “What if I taste bad? What if you don’t like the feel of it? Or the look of it? What if my smell isn’t that good? What if–” 
You fell silent as you felt Jake’s warm muscle licking your folds, the heat of his touch sending shivers through your heated body, legs trying to close instinctively and your eyes growing wide as you realized he just… Went for it. And he was good.
Just after the long lick, Jake sucked your clit and groaned, as if the pleasure was his, not only yours. He didn’t part the connection, though, continuing to play with your clit and your pussy in random patterns using his tongue and lips, as if he was studying which one you enjoyed the most by the way your moans sounded. 
“J–Jak–Mhm…” A soft murmur mingled with a whimper interrupted whatever you were about to say – and you couldn’t even remember as you drifted your gaze down to catch the sight of Jake’s furrowed brows, deep in concentration and desire as he lost himself in you. 
You brushed away the hair sticking on his lightly sweaty forehead, watching how delighted he seemed to be eating you out; you heard the lewd sounds of slurping and soft smacks imitating a kiss and you deduced he was simply making out with your pussy.
As regular as it was, your fingers tangled into his brown locks, this time urging him closer, pulling him down to you as the longing for more consumed your chest. 
Jake was drunk – and loving each second. Mind blurry, only your pussy and the sweet scent and taste of it occupying the haze inside his brain as he got motivated by the pretty noises you allowed to escape your lips.
He dived into you with fervor, with love. God, he dreamed for too long to waste time with foreplays or whatever, especially when you were that wet already. He could die in between your legs and he would thank you for that. 
The way your breath hitched when he went a bit further and tested to poke your pulsing hole with the tip of his tongue got his eyes glancing up to catch your contorted expression, mouth agape, head throwing back into the pillow. He moaned when you rolled your hips forward, rubbing your pussy on his face just how he wanted to. 
“You’re so fucking good,” you managed to breathe out, your voice shaking between delicate moans.
Jake’s tongue lapped over and over your now dripping pussy, drinking from your juice as if it was his favorite. After cautious inspection, he understood what made you clench shamelessly and was now openly making out with your clit, even so often tongue fucking you within an impressive skill; he also positioned both your legs on his shoulder as way to ease his and your comfort.
The way your body squirmed under his firm grip on your thighs was a feeling Jake wished never to forget, especially how you unconsciously tried to press your legs together, as if it could shield you from the intensity of his touch, though you knew deep down it was futile. 
Jake was addicted to every aspect about you. If he allowed himself a moment of reflection, he might feel a flicker of embarrassment over just how intensely you got him wrapped around your finger.
Your smiles, paired with your playful banter, sent a whirlwind of emotions through his chest, a constant reminder of how effortlessly you matched his provocations with your own sharp wit. Your determination, laced with a stubborn edge, stirred a deep sense of pride within him, filling his heart with admiration for your strength. And your body… it was a masterpiece in his eyes. Every curve, every line felt tailor-made for his hands, his touch, his need to hold you close and never let go.
And now you had permitted him to taste the part he cherished the most in terms of sex. 
Jake didn’t care about how cringe, loser-like or shameful could sound to others, but eating girls out was everything he needed to feel fulfilled when in bed, and now, if the said girl was you, his perfect girlfriend…
“I love you so much,” you heard Jake mumble against your cunt, the slurred words vibrating against your clit brought you back from the lustful fog your mind drew into only to send you back again, a journey you would gladly revisit again whenever possible.
The knot on your lower stomach tightening had your toes curling as you tugged Jake’s hair harder, eliciting a soft moan out of his mouth that got lost in between your wet arousal.
“Mhm, F–Fuck Jake– I’m–”
“Close?” He murmured, though he didn’t expect you to answer. 
Jake was way lost into his own pleasure of satisfying you to think of anything other than your release coating his tongue, and he started to shamelessly, yet slowly rut his hip against the bed as your moans increased, your legs around his shoulder pressing tighter.
“I wan’ you to come all over my face and mouth, doll.” 
The blend of his words and how he started to shake his head to rub the tip of his nose on your clit while lapping your clenching hole got you screaming his name, the waves of shock running through your body within trembles as you had your orgasm. Whimpers and cries would be everything filling the room if it wasn't from Jake slurping noises getting constant with him swallowing every single drop of your climax, driving you through your high.
His big hands held you steady as he finished the job of cleaning you with his tongue, your sensitive bundle of nerves getting brief brushes that got you squirming. Jake then placed a sweet kiss on your clit, diverging from the intensity of the touches seconds ago before he pulled away, leaving you breathless and shaky, but utterly satisfied, with a dumb smile gracing your lips.
Your hooded eyes blinked slowly, tiredly as you panted for air, your whole body relaxed as if you were on the clouds. However, you captured the view of Jake undressing himself even with your slightly blurred vision; his chin and his nose were glistening with his spit and your cum, and when you finally noticed the hardened bulge hidden behind his underwear, you gulped, feeling your body heating up again before that pretty, lascivious sight.
Opposite to what you thought, Jake propped himself near to you, out of the bed still, with a cute smile, endearingly watching you regaining your senses. You didn’t catch the flicker of mischief the puppy eyes showed briefly, though.
“Babe, how about we take a shower, mhm?,” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. With a gentle stroke on your hair, he added. “I think we have a bathtub here, we can take a bath.”
A smirk danced on the corner of your lips as you sat with Jake’s help, your fingers tracing the shape of his covered dick. “But what about you, pretty boy?” 
You watched Jake biting his lip, a habit you loved that made both your heart flutter and your cunt pulse. You were getting worked up again. 
“We can take care of it there, can’t we?” 
His gaze darkened out of the softness he was offering you when you nodded, pulling you to stand up and removing your shirt. Jake’s eyes lingered a bit longer on your now exposed breasts and you felt shy under the intensity of it, so you just leaned forward to cut the staring with a kiss. 
The same kiss that had Jake holding you by the waist and you finding support on his shoulders. The same kiss that Jake used to quietly guide you towards the bathroom. The same kiss that left you breathless as you parted away with a content smile followed by a chuckle because Jake’s fingertips brushed your ribs in a teasing way. 
“Oh, we have to fill it up, though…” You pouted when noticing that the said bathtub was completely empty. 
Once again, you failed to realize Jake had a secret plan by the way his eyes twinkled with wicked intentions, especially because he positioned himself behind you.
“Babe…” His voice dropped an octave when he murmured against your ear, the feeling of his hot body pressing on your back together with his covered cock frictioning against your bare ass got your pussy starting to be wet again. 
“Mhm?” You answered softly, hands covering Jake’s that were now on your boobs, softly massaging 
“Do you trust me?”
The question was simple, the answer even simpler. And yet you found yourself hesitating, a flicker of uncertainty threatening to spark – a fleeting fear of what might unfold. But then, you remembered: it was Jake. Your Jake. The man who had dived headfirst into all your wildest adventures without hesitation, who would never dream of hurting you.
The man of your life.
“Of course I do.”
“Good,” he chuckled softly, a hint of mischief lighting his gaze as he pulled away from the warmth of your embrace, only to strip off the last piece of clothing separating him from you.
You turned on your heels, confused, aiming to ask what the hell was going on, but your eyes dropped to Jake’s big, stiff cock, the tip reddened, glistening with leaking precum in a way that got your knees weak.
“You’re hard,” you breathed out, pointing out the obvious and feeling your body working on automatic as you approached with your hands already moving further closer his length. “And hot. I’d suck you off–”
Jake shushed you with a quick peck, his lips being graced by a small smile. “Shh, come with me.”
He approached the bathtub, opening the water register to fill just the bottom of it before he settled on one of the ends and tapped his lap, urging you to join him.
“Oh?” You tilted your head to the side, a grin growing on your lips as you made your way to your boyfriend, doing as he instructed you so. “What are we doing?”
Your curiosity was driving you wild, yet there was something thrilling in the way Jake sometimes took control of the situation, keeping details scarce and letting slowly you discover things as they got revealed.
Sharing moments with Jake was a treasured part of your life, and you longed to create more special and unique memories with the one you had vowed to love for a lifetime – through every shade and possibilities.
So when he placed you on his lap, facing forward, something similar to as if you were about to ride him, you did nothing to control the excitement fluttering in your chest. Before you said any other word, Jake’s cheeks flustered with a cute tone of crimson and you furrowed your brows, a confused-amused chuckle escaping your lips because you literally had no idea of what was going on.
“Please, ignore what I’m gonna say, because it’s a fucking turn off…” Jake said with a small voice, his whole face contorted into an embarrassed expression as he tightened the grip on your hips.
“Okay…” As unsure as you sounded, still you held your expectations high. The worst that would happen was Jake making you laugh with his goofy ideas and jokes.
“You know that we calculate the velocity of some things in physics, right? Like fluids, and stuff…” You nodded along, not really getting the line of thought, but still allowing him to finish. “I was wondering… Mhm–” He cleared his throat, eyes avoiding yours precisely. You were already giggling, hands caressing his nape.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to calculate the velocity of your squirt on my dick?”
Though Jake immediately reacted by breaking into a shy laughter and hiding himself cringing on the crook of your neck, you, on the other hand, had to stifle the shocking scoff that caught in your throat upon hearing his filthy, straightforward request, your expression shifting from teasing humored to stunned disbelief. And you felt your pussy clenching right after, because Jake had that fucking effect on you, no matter what. 
“I won’t lie… I was so ready to laugh,” you admitted, voice soft and edged with a dryness that had you swallowing hard, trying to hold the thrill bubbling low in your core.
Your hips rolled ever so slightly, a teasing motion that grazed against Jake’s aching hardness, drawing a guttural groan from him. Your hand held the back of his head, caressing his hair, while the other wandered over his biceps. 
“But, damn, I’m so turned on right now.”
“Thank God you’re perfect.” 
It was the last thing Jake said in between a relieved giggle before kissing your neck and skillfuly maneuvering your body with your help so his aching cock could finally meet the warm embrace of your walls. 
A shaky shared moan echoed through the hollow bathroom walls, your head falling back, your lips parted with a small delighted smile adorning it. Jake bit your neck to muffle his following groan when he finally got himself completely inside of you; he had been hard for so long, ever since he started to think about getting lost in the taste of your pussy, craving some sexual release that only your cunt embracing his length would give him.
“So fucking tight–” He whispered against the slightly bruised skin of your neck, voice cracking at the end when you rolled your hips in a silent plea.
Without a moment of hesitation, Jake lifted you effortlessly by your hips, only to pull you back down with a steady force, guiding you with a rhythmic precision. Your arms instinctively draped over his shoulders, providing the support you needed to move with him, as you both found your pace.
“Kiss–” you breathed, a soft whimper escaping your lips, just as Jake hit a spot that made you tremble. “Kiss me, Jakey–” 
As a natural command, Jake drifted his lips towards yours, his tongue licked your bottom one before sucking it and diving into a passionate, messy kiss, the movements never halting as you drowned into the pool of arousal and lust your boyfriend provided; you could feel Jake everywhere and it was amazing.
He pounded into your g-spot with ease, eliciting the loudest noises from the back of your throat, shamelessly. His hands roamed your ass to squeeze it while guiding your body up and down, the mild slapping sounds ringing in his ears like a beautiful melody. 
“You make me go insane,” Jake whispered, his eyes fluttering close as the euphoria of feeling you that close drifted his senses into an overwhelming experience. 
He felt a faint grin appearing on your lips before you shot back. “And– And do you like it?”
Jake chuckled lightly, a lingering smile following his answer. “I love it.”
Since you had one orgasm already, you felt your next one coming faster than expected, so when you started to involuntarily clench more, together with your whimpers of Jake’s name and curses amplified louder, Jake took a close notice to start rubbing circles on your clit with one hand, wishing you could keep on holding the position practically by yourself for a bit longer – he wanted you to do a bit more than cumming, after all.
“Close… ‘M close–” You whined, body jolting forward and your head falling back once more, the grip from your arms on Jake’s shoulders tightening as you partially hugged him. 
Jake drank in the sight of you rolling your eyes close and your hips uncontrollably grinding and bouncing and doing whatever would make you achieve your climax – so fucking beautiful. It made his dick throb in despair for the same release, but he wanted so bad to feel you squirting on him. So he gathered strength from the depths of his self-control not to cum, even after you creamed his shaft with your warm liquid. Even after your squeeze grew unbearably good.
“Fuck, babe…” 
“Jak– Jake– Sensitive,” you whispered when Jake didn’t stop drawing circles on your clit, momentarily forgetting he had a different plan as you struggled to squirm away. “Jake, mhm–” 
Jake shook his head as if telling you no, maintaining his dick buried deep into you as he focused solely on your swollen bundle of nerves. If you paid enough attention you would feel his mischievous smile creeping on the corner of his lips grazing on your cheek.
With your eyes fluttering open to try and look at your boyfriend, the overestimation teetered the edge of madness; overwhelming at it most, you whined pleas of despair for Jake to stop, though you didn’t actually want him to.
Jake groaned when your nails scratched his back, your whole body trembling, shaking to escape the painful, yet delicious feeling of Jake driving you faster towards an inexperienced field for you.
You never actually squirted, but as soon as you reminded yourself that it was Jake's desire, you wished to give it to him as much as you wanted for yourself. Pleasuring Jake would always pleasure you as well.
“It’s gonna feel so good, doll,” Jake cooed, holding you closer, keeping you steady. “Hang in there, just a little, yeah?”
“Can’t–” You shook your head, feeling a weird feeling creeping inside you. “Can’t Jakey–”
“Yes you can,” his voice was low, soft even, though breathless. Jake was trying his best to navigate you precisely to where he wanted you to arrive. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
“Mhm– Fuck, Jake–” You screamed his name. “Yes, ’m yours. All yours.”
The excruciating pressure on your core felt like a glazing fire, scorching every inch of you as if it were igniting something deep inside, something new, strange. It was a fiery ache, relentless and consuming, making it almost impossible to think of anything but the heat that pulsed through you, demanding attention. The sensation grew more intense with every movement, every touch, every deliberate open-mouth kiss Jake deposited on your neck. You couldn’t decide if you wanted it to stop or if you wanted it to go on forever. 
“It’s burning– Jake–” You sounded urgent, not exactly knowing why.  
“Let it go, doll,” Jake murmured on your earlobe. “For me, yeah?”
And so you did, moaning, exclaiming Jake’s name like a mantra, like he was the only thing carved into your soul, the only thing crossing your mind. You felt like Jake entered you completely as a flush of fluids squirted from your pulsing, abused cunt.
At the same time, Jake had his own body trembling, his abs tensing as he came undone; not even a movement, not even a roll of hips, just the indescribable feeling of your juices flowing freely down his length and your walls clenching got him filling you to the brim with his release.
A wave of soft moans slipped from your lips, each one rising like a gentle hiss. Your mind was blank. Your body, numb. You felt everything and nothing at the same time. At some point you questioned if you had died – and if you did, it would be an amazing death.
But then Jake’s honeyed, broken voice brought you back from your trance. 
“I’m still coming,” and he so fucking was; it was a different feeling from the other times, if you forced yourself to think coherently, you would realize Jake had never come that hard. 
“I’m weird,” you mumbled, body softening against your boyfriend’s strong grip. He held you steady in his arms, supporting you with care. “Can’t feel my legs… Or my body…”
You heard Jake laughing a little in between pants, his noises sounding distant while your eyes began to slowly close, your body relaxing into that blur of tiredness that took over in seconds.
“I’ve got you, my love.” Jake kissed your cheek. “You did amazing. Thank you.”
With tender touches and gentle caresses, Jake cleaned both of you, making sure you were comfortable and not getting any type of extra stimulation as he did so. Through soft murmurs of reassuring words, he praised your work and thanked you for allowing him to pleasure you. As he always did.
Jake loved you with genuine affection. It never felt forced, nor did it ever seem like something he had to prove. It was simply there, effortless, constant, and profound. His love lived in the smallest gestures and the proudest compliments he would gush about, and you couldn’t feel more grateful for living in a relationship where the caring was mutual, because you cherished Jake just as much. 
You were finally at peace, in a comfortable relationship with Jake, knowing there would be no more lies between you and your brother. It was soothing to be able to sink into the warm embrace of your boyfriend without worrying about interruptions, or how quickly you would have to throw on clothes and present yourself as presentable as possible, hiding the remnants of your burning passion behind fake smiles and lame excuses.
Jake had a scent of home, of love. And it felt so, so good to love him without restraint, to kiss him without fear, to feel a sense of completeness as he fit perfectly in a special place in your chest.
“Y’know, I was just thinking…”
Jake’s voice filled the quietness of the room. He had put you in a comfortable set of clothes and laid on the bed with you, your body curled cozily against his chest, his soft heartbeats soothing your senses.
“We complement each other pretty well.”
“How so?”
Your ask came as silent as his. Jake caught himself thinking deeply, snuggling you closer as he did so. 
“Mhm… I lean towards physics and you’re into art,” you nodded along, casually drawing random shapes on his bare torso. 
The softness of his tone vibrated through his chest like a sweet lullaby. You sighed. 
“I feel like you’re more rational than I am… You’re always so, so determined and adorably stubborn until you get what you want… And I’m kinda lazy, not gonna lie.” 
“That’s true,” you smirked, raising your head briefly just to shoot a teasing glance. Jake chuckled, rolling his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you nestled back against him.
“We always find a way to please each other, in every sense,” he continued and you couldn’t help the warm flushing from your neck to your face, shyly shifting to hide yourself on his neck. Jake giggled, caressing your back. “And I always feel complete when I’m with you.”
Pulling back slightly, you searched those two mesmerizing eyes, brimming with tenderness and care. With love. Jake was a beautiful masterpiece, worthy of endless admiration you would willingly give, because you loved him just as much. 
“I agree,” you whispered, caressing his cheek. “We’re like pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly.”
“Exactly,” Jake breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed as tranquility washed over him after you pressed a tender kiss on his lips just to get cozy again against his torso. “We’re complementary, babe.”
BONUS SCENE
"Well, well… If it isn’t the cutest couple..." Sunghoon greeted you both with a teasing tone as you approached the table.
The weekend trip was nearing its end, and that was the last meal the five of you would share at the hotel. It was a simple yet cozy dinner, the kind that felt more meaningful because of the company. A table set with exactly five seats, ready to accommodate all of you.
Jake responded to Sunghoon’s comment with a playful smack to the back of his neck before you both took your seats; Heeseung settled on your right, Sunghoon next to Jake, and Jay directly across from you.
“The cutest and the freakiest, too. Jesus Christ.” Heeseung muttered just loud enough for you and Jake to hear. Instinctively, your eyes darted up to catch the displeased scowl on your brother’s face. “Please, never put me next to their room again.”
“The choice was either you or Jay, so…” Sunghoon shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, though it didn’t stop Heeseung from glaring at him.
“And you weren’t an option?”
“Of course not. My trip, my rules. You should be grateful I even got you a solo room.”
“Oh, right, because between hearing Y/N scream Jake’s name and–”
“For God’s sake, dude,” Jake interrupted immediately, his voice sharp but laced with embarrassment.
Your cheeks burned fiercely as you sank into your chair, crawling Jake’s arm as if your life depended on it, trying desperately to avoid looking at Jay – or anyone else. But from the corner of your eye, you caught him massaging his temples with one hand, the other lifting his glass of wine to his lips as if he needed a moment away from the conversation.
“Am I wrong, though?” Heeseung arched an eyebrow and looked directly at you, who were now sipping your drink, still curled against Jake who held you by your shoulder. “I bet you were having a good time in the bathroom.”
Jake couldn’t suppress the sudden snort of laughter that escaped him when seeing you and Jay choking, each with your own drinks, together. On the other hand, Sunghoon shamelessly burst into a loud, noisy laugh, clapping his hands and throwing his head back as if it was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed.
“Oh, man, this is gold,” he managed to say, eyes flickering in between your mortified expression and Jay’s mad grimace.
You coughed into your napkin, one that Jake handed to you gently, holding back his own wanting to laugh at it too, your cheeks blazing hot. 
“Heeseung, I swear to God, if you–”
“Relax, Y/N. I won’t tell about how hard–”
“Ok. Shut up, dude,” Jake interrupted sharply again, though his voice carried a mix of amusement and shyness. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm, anchoring you away from their teasing.
Jay, however, wasn’t laughing. Not at all. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his expression tense as he shot Heeseung a glare that could cut through steel.
“Some of us don’t need a visualization of whatever happened in that room. Thank you.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes, which shone with amusement, matching perfectly with his playful grin.
“Come on, Jay. It’s all in good fun,” Heeseung replied, waving off the tension with a careless flick of his hand. “We all know they’re just very passionate. Isn’t that right?”
“Oh, God.” You groaned, burying our face in your hands, feeling Jake giggling by the way his body trembled against yours. “I hate all of you. So much.”
The mortification flooded your senses, an urge to run away from their playful banter because you didn’t know where else to hide. However, the same subject being treated with jokes and laughter eased your fear of Jay turning back on his decision of supporting you and Jake.
“Even me?” Your boyfriend asked, kindly grabbing your chin to lean your head upwards to face him. He had a feigned pouty expression, one that elicited a giggle from you right away.
You shook your head. “No, baby, never you.”
And just at the moment your lips touched Jake’s into a sweet gesture, you heard your brother’s voice.
“Am I that ass of a brother to deserve this level of pain and torture?” Jay muttered, his voice dripping with exaggerated exasperation.
You and Jake giggled in between the kiss, parting ways as you bit your lip and shot a fake annoyed glance at Jay – comfort now settling your nerves, as you noticed he was trying to be as nonchalant as possible.
“Maybe?” You teased, your tone playful as you tilted your head. Jay rolled his eyes, but the small smile dancing on his lips didn’t deny he was starting to accept your relationship.
“Whatever, kiddo.”
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taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @taeminsboogers, @4wkjun, @wiccangirl29, @guapgoddees, @manuosorioh, @zkg2318, @m3wkledreamy, @jakeswifeyyy, @love4hee, @missychief1404, @thlrstae, @jaems-left-toe
(the ones in bold text i couldn't tag!)
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tojicide · 2 months ago
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DOCTOR, DOCTOR! ☆ ZAYNE LI.
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summary. when you’re feeling under the weather, doctor zayne is quick to prescribe you with what he knows will have you feeling better in no time.
warnings. fem!reader. nsfw. smut, fluff. pet names. boyfriend!zayne. praise, masturbation, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), cockwarming, unprotected p in v, mirror sex, creampie, aftercare. the rocking chair is featured.
wc. 3.9k
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
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Zayne is an intelligent man, that much was evident, but for the first time in his career, he’s absolutely stumped.
Why is that, you may ask? Well for starters you, his beloved girlfriend, have been a bit distant lately. Not cold, not rude, but distant.
With his busy schedule, he didn’t see much of you during the day, and by the time he got home, you were usually fast asleep. It was easy to think that he was simply missing you and that was why his brain had led him to feel this rift between the two of you, but alas, he couldn’t be more wrong.
This entire ordeal truly got him thinking…
He saw a few tissues in the trash bin—perhaps you were catching the common cold. But when he prepared a spoonful of bitter medicine and a glass of water to wash it down, he was met with your denial that you masked with a smile.
If it wasn’t that, what could it be? Zayne asked the same question.
Maybe you were stressed out because of work. He finds that to be probable, so he made it a point to get home as early as he could last night to give you a massage after he cooked you your favorite meal.
You seemed to be soothed by his touch, murmuring a few ‘ah’s and ‘ooh’s of satisfaction as his skilled hands threaded into the tense muscles of your shoulders. Once you were at ease with your head resting back on his chest, he gave you a tender kiss on your cheek before he turned in for the night.
Call him overly analytical, but when it took you awhile to join him, he had a feeling that the massage hadn’t quite accomplished what he hoped it would have.
His mind then started to wander even further. Had he forgotten to run the dishwasher? No, of course not. Had he forgotten to pay the utility bills? Absolutely not, he took his credit score very seriously and a late payment was simply unlike him.
Had he forgotten to put the toilet seat down…? Okay, he definitely did, but that couldn’t be why you were acting so unlike yourself.
And then, as he sat at his desk with a fresh plate of food in front of him, it dawned on him. When was the last time you orgasmed? More importantly, when was the last time he’d given you one himself?
It was almost inhuman how fast he jumped up from his office chair to inform Yvonne that he would be out for the remainder of the afternoon, because oh was he feeling downright horrible.
He was back at your shared apartment in no time, pushing the door open and setting his shoes in the nook positioned in the entryway.
(He had a bad habit of trucking on the hardwood floors without removing his shoes, and considering he was already on your shit-list, he made sure to do it now.)
“Honey?” he calls out to you, making his way towards your closed bedroom door. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”
Zayne’s eyebrows raise as he glances around, finding that your apartment looks rather empty and desolate. “I’d like to apologize. I know I haven’t been present for you lately and—”
And then, he hears something. Something that makes him stop in his tracks. His eyebrow quirks up with intrigue as he presses his ear to the door, listening in.
He’d know those beautiful sounds anywhere, even if it’d been awhile since he had lured them out of you himself. Your moans were muffled by the door, but they were enough to make his cock stiffen up beneath the fabric of his black slacks.
“God… please,” you muttered, clearly out of breath and in frustration. “Damn it!”
Behind the door, you were resting on his side of the bed, hoping that his scent would be enough to make you finish. Your fingers toyed with your clit as you desperately tried to get yourself off, but nothing seemed to be working.
Zayne was practiced in a way that only he could be. He knew female anatomy better than you did, but more importantly, he took pride in learning yours. He knew what you liked and what you didn’t, what made you crumble and cry out.
And now that you’ve gone without him for so long, you’re finding yourself more pent up than ever. A huff of frustration leaves your lips as you try again, again, and again—only to be edged with your release without reaping the benefits of it.
He exhales, twisting the doorknob as he cracks the door open. To no surprise, there you were, sitting on his side of the bed with your hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties.
You hardly looked horrified at the sight of him, more so desperate if anything. He pulls his tie loose as he takes a few steps towards the bed, his knees finding the plush comforter as he sinks onto his stomach.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, almost sounding sympathetic. He runs his hands over your thighs as he hikes them over his shoulders. “Let me see.”
You roll your eyes. “Who’s to say that you deserve to?”
Zayne gives you a look that you know all too well, one that silently reads ‘girl, are you serious?’ And no, you aren’t serious by any means, so you nod your head to give him your permission.
He pulls the damp fabric of your panties to the side, his gaze slimming as he sets eyes on your cunt for the first time in what feels like forever. (It’s only been two weeks at most, but you’re both awfully dramatic.)
“I’m sorry,” he speaks into your heat, almost as if he were apologizing to both you and your pussy. He raises his eyes to yours as he flattens his soft tongue to swipe along your wet folds. He moans at the mere taste of you, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulls you even closer to him. “I had no idea. Truly, baby, I didn’t.”
You whine at the sensation of his gentle voice rumbling against your sensitive skin, your hand delving into his hair. “No idea about—hah—what?”
Zayne takes a moment to reply. His mouth is certainly distracted with the way it’s buried into your soaking cunt while his tongue laps at your inner lips, his nose brushing against your clit with each movement he makes.
“I hadn’t realized I was neglecting your needs,” he clarifies, cracking his eyes open just enough to look at you with hollowed cheeks as he sucks onto your sensitive bundle of nerves.
He releases it with a ‘pop’, his tongue quickly replacing his lips as he curls it in up and down motions that stimulate you in ways you can’t even comprehend. “My girl is too sweet to be treated like that,” he whispers, thumbing at your folds to give himself better access.
One of his hands continues to rub your thighs for some sort of comfort for his behavior, and soon, the other reaches up to take your hand in his own. You squeeze onto it immediately, finding the gesture to be much appreciated.
“So, you… mmh— you remember I exist after all?” Your words are meant as a joke, but he doesn’t seem to consider them as such with the way he presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away.
“Honey, I’m being serious,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on your thigh. “I’d never want to make it seem like I don’t consider you and your feelings.”
He gives your hand a squeeze before he smiles, adding an earnest, “and truth be told, I’m rather surprised that I’ve gone so long without tasting this pretty pussy of yours,” before he delves right back into eating you out like a man starved.
Zayne hasn’t noticed it until now, but he truly was starving, and not for the lunch that he left on his desk back at Akso Hospital. He wasn’t much for alcohol, but getting drunk on your pussy was one of his favorite pastimes, and he’ll never go this long without doing it again.
He was a man of science, and even then, he would never be able to explain the chemical imbalance that tasting you set off in his brain. Sure, medically speaking, the preoptic area of the brain is what triggers an erection, but what you did to him was far beyond that.
It was safe to say that Zayne was almost as in love with your pussy as he was with you, and judging by the way he’s making out with it right now, you have no doubts about that.
Your head tilts back against the headboard as he reintroduces his middle finger to your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench around it.
“Mm, quite sensitive, are we?” he lowly asks, licking a few swipes at your clit before adding, “Is it because you’ve been using your own hand for quite some time now?”
It’s almost pathetic how quickly you nod, your fingers grasping onto his dark locks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss onto your folds. “It’s the only choice I had,” you whine.
(He makes a mental note to give you his credit card so that you can purchase anything and everything you’ll need in order to satisfy yourself whenever he isn’t around. The fact that he hasn’t thought of that sooner is a problem in and of itself.)
He nods in return, though the movement only invites him to make hard licks at your pussy, collecting your slick on his tongue. His cock is rock hard, but he’ll get his turn soon enough.
Even if his turn never came, he’d be more than happy with this alone—that much was incredibly evident.
“I know it, my love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your sensitive clit as he slides another finger into your hole. “Is this alright?”
Your thighs tense up at the sensation, but you nod, tilting your head down to look at him. With your permission, he continues, his tongue swiping at you while his fingers fuck you into oblivion.
When you tilt your head back, he squeezes your thigh. “Eyes down here, I need you to watch closely.”
A sharp whine escaped you as his mouth somehow latched onto your pussy in the time it took you to look at him. He pulls off of you to speak, his lips coated with your arousal. “There will be times like this in which I won’t be able to give you what you need, and as much as it kills me, your pleasure can’t be limited to the times I can have you like this.”
You tilt your head. “What… what do you mean?”
Zayne nods his head, urging you to tune in. He curls fingers inside of you, hitting your g-spot with each push. “Hm. I suppose I can teach you how to touch yourself a bit more effectively. Would you like that?”
Your hand goes flying to his shoulder as you nod, your teeth pressing down onto your bottom lip. “Hah… mhm.”
He nods, grasping onto your hand. He presses a few kisses on your knuckles as he guides it to your clit, helping you swirl the pads of your fingers around it in smooth, moan-earning circles. “Very good. You look happier with me already.”
“You’re still a jerk,” you huff.
“I’m sure I have been behaving like one, yes,” he murmurs with a laugh. “Don’t let me off the hook too easily, either. I need to get a few orgasms out of you before you should consider that.”
That sounds perfectly fine to you, so all you do is moan in reply, which makes him smile. He likes to please his woman, and knowing that he hasn’t done a good job of that makes him even more determined to make up for it.
“It’s okay to use two hands, sweet girl,” he continues teaching, tilting his head towards his own hand that was still thrusting two fingers inside of you. “While it may be mine right now, yours will work just the same.”
Something switches inside of you the moment he begins to help you masturbate, his own fingers fucking inside of you while yours stimulate another part of your puffy cunt. You always had a thing for acts of service, but when it came from your boyfriend, you were practically putty in his hands.
“That’s right,” he purrs, a smile tugging on his lips. “Such a pretty girl. Perhaps you just needed to be reminded of how to treat yourself.”
His hazel eyes are still on your face, watching as you pinch in absolute ecstasy, your thighs shaking on his shoulders. “I see that I’ve underestimated you,” he teases, dipping his head to lick at your folds, his tongue brushing against your fingers as he continues to guide the movements of your hand. “It seems like you’re doing just fine for yourself after all.”
You huff, shaking your head. “No, no… it’s all you.”
Zayne chuckles at that, sucking your fingers that were circling your clit into his mouth before he places them back on your sensitive pearl, giving you a bit more lubricant. “There’s no need to be so hard on yourself, I’m merely helping you. We’re practicing together, sweetheart,”
You almost roll your eyes at that, because the last thing Zayne needed was practice on how to please you. He may have been a bit distracted, but that could never take away from how perfect of a lover he was.
And… it was difficult not to be hard on yourself when he’s practically taken away your ability to orgasm on your own. With the way he’s making you feel right now, his absence was almost worth it.
Your eyes haze over as you look down at him, a soft moan leaving your lips. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” you choke out.
To that, he nods in understanding. He thumbs apart your folds, leaving you to play with yourself as you please while he dips his head in to lick at your cunt in any way he can, feeling the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s right. Look at you, honey, such a quick learner.”
Zayne grasps onto your thigh with his free hand, pressing a few wet kisses along your inner skin as you come down from your high. Your hand still has a death grip on his hair, but he doesn’t mind it. He knows that he deserves to lose a few strands of hair after how he has left you alone.
You pant, your chest heaving as your body reels from your orgasm. While your vision is blurry, you can still make out the picture of your boyfriend sucking his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them free of your release.
“Mm, you know, the release from an orgasm does much to calm people,” he murmurs, giving your mound a chaste kiss before he rises up to give you one on your forehead. “Do you feel any better, my dear?”
You do feel better, but a part of you, one that you can’t quite shove away, is still yearning for more. Despite that, you nod, brushing your hand along his cheek as he dips his head to give you a kiss.
Sugary and sweet are two words you’d used to describe kissing Zayne, because those were adjectives you’d also use to detail how he always behaves when around you.
He pulls away from the kiss, propping himself up on his elbow above you while he uses his other hand to brush away your hair. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, his voice soft and full of a raw honesty that makes your heart squeeze.
You shake your head with a smile. “I know you didn’t mean to,” you reply. “It’s just… you made me feel like you didn’t need me, like what I felt was one sided.”
Zayne’s expression seems to soften as he shakes his head. “Of course I need you, I always need you. Your needs are never one-sided, especially not needs of this nature.”
He brushes his hand over your cheek. “And I was serious about my endeavors of making it up to you, sweetness. C’mere.”
Before you know it, you’re plucked from your position on the bed and carried to the corner of the bedroom. Zayne takes a seat in the rocking chair positioned there, spinning it around until it faces the body length mirror just in front of the two of you.
He then undresses you entirely, kissing along your thighs, your hips, the curves of your back, on the cheek of your ass—everywhere and anywhere he could. Sure enough, you hear the rattling of his metal belt buckle behind you, and when you glance over your shoulder, his cock is pulled out from the confines of his boxers.
His slacks are still bunched up around his thighs, as are his boxers, but he pays no mind to it. He raises two fingers as he beckons you to sit in his lap, and you do.
Zayne rests one hand on your hip while the other grasps onto his shaft, pumping it in his first a few times before he smears the head of his cock along your folds, gathering your slick. “The ‘teaching’ is over, but now, I simply want to show you just how much I need you.”
His words stir something within you, and when he leans up to press a kiss on your shoulder, you already feel like your lover is here to live up to his word. “Is that alright?” he asks against your skin, prodding your entrance with his tip.
When you nod, you’re already sinking down, taking him inch by inch until you’re cockwarming his thick length. He smiles at you in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes drifting over your body that he will never forget to worship again.
“So beautiful,” he coos, his hands mapping out the curves of your waist, your hips, your thighs. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
Your cheeks flush at his words. “Thanks.”
Zayne shakes his head. “There’s no need to thank me for speaking the truth,” he whispers. “That’d be like thanking Einstein for developing the theories of special and general relativity—it’s practically a given.”
You aren’t sure where the correlation is, but when one of his hands slips in between your thighs while the other grasps onto one of your breasts, you don’t care about fighting it out.
“Point is, I mean it. Every word,” he adds.
You feel like a goddess being worshiped as his mouth finds your shoulder, the smacking of his lips omitting into the otherwise quiet room as he places open-mouthed kisses on your skin. His middle and ring finger work to toy with your clit, his other hand squeezing onto your breast.
And then… he begins to rock.
You gasp at the feeling of his cock just barely moving inside of you, your body entirely engulfed in the sensations that he is so eagerly providing you.
“You feel—hah—so, so good,” he whispers against your skin, his lips climbing the curve of your shoulder. His fingers circle your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, and when you place your hand on his to guide his movements, he smiles at you in the reflection. “There’s my girl. Such a quick learner, just like I said.”
You lazily return his smile, your head resting back on his shoulder. He removes his hand from your breast to pluck his glasses from his face, placing them on yours instead.
“My baby is such a smart girl,” he purrs, his lips finding your neck as he admires you. Flushed skin, hair messed up, his glasses resting on your nose. He could come inside you at the sight, but he wants to prolong this. He doesn’t ever want to leave this moment with you. “And so beautiful too. Absolutely ravishing.”
You chuckle at that, though your laughter was interrupted by a soft moan as his fingers pick up the pace as they circle your puffy clit. “You’re… hah—handsome,” you manage to return.
Zayne chuckles at your words, nodding his head as a silent thank you. He presses another kiss on your shoulder, though he quickly leaves another one once you begin to rock your hips. He sits back, catching a glimpse of how you look when you bounce on his cock.
He grins, his hand finding the swell of your ass as he gives both cheeks a nice squeeze. “We can move back to our bed if you’d prefer, sweetheart. I don’t want you to have to put in any more effort into your pleasure tonight.”
You shake your head, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. “I wanna see you,” you breathe.
“Honey, there are positions—”
He’s interrupted by your hand reaching back to hold his jaw, pulling him up so that he too could see the reflection of you both in the mirror.
And oh, was it a sight.
“I wanna see you,” you repeat.
Zayne is in no position to deny you, so with a nod of approval, his hands find your hips. “At the very least, let me help you.”
The sound of slapping skin and your breathy moans fill the room, his large hands keeping their iron grip on your hip bones while your hands rest on top of his. He peers out from behind you, watching as your tits bounce just as you do, your hair flying messily.
“Pretty baby,” he pants, more to himself in reaction to the mere sight of you. “Such a lucky man you’ve made me, fuck… take it, baby, yeah. I love you so much, so much…” he babbles, not quite sure what he’s saying, just that he’s speaking whatever graces his mind.
“Oh, I… I love you too, Zayne,” you gasp.
You whine, grinding your hips in fluid motions as you feel your second orgasm quickly approaching. You were sensitive to begin with, and the feeling of his cock stretching you out was more than enough to bring you here.
“Shit,” he rasps, his head falling back onto the rocking chair as his eyes screw shut. “You take me so well, you fit me so perfectly, baby… I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna… oh, shit.”
You weren’t far behind him, and as your movements grow lazier, you opt to sit on his cock entirely as the both of you find your orgasms only second apart.
Ropes of white paint your insides, your cum coating the base of his cock as the two of you become one in a way that you’ve missed so dearly.
Only bliss envelopes the two of you as you slump back onto his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him. The two of you sit just like that for a moment as you find your breaths that have run off, relishing in the feeling of your combined warmth.
Zayne reaches up to carefully grasp your jaw, turning your head back just enough so that he could kiss you. Your breaths mingle to add to the scent of your love that looms in the air, his other hand running soothing strides along your hip.
“I don’t deserve you,” he breathlessly says with a lovesick grin. “Quite frankly, I don’t. You’re wonderful to me.”
You shake your head, leaning down to kiss him again before he slowly helps you up onto your trembling legs. “Oh, stop that. Just because you’ve been a little caught up with work doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly a bad partner.”
Zayne sweeps you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “See? You’re simply too good to me. Such a lovely personality, the most contagious laugh I’ve ever heard, the cutest snores when you sleep, the sweetest pussy in existence… my dream girl in all capacities.”
You smile as he sets you down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead as he crosses the room to draw you a shower to your liking. Warm—not cold, but not hot enough to the point that your skin tingles. He’s had plenty of practice in this area, and he’s gotten it down to a science by now.
“I do not snore,” you murmur, shaking your head.
As he peels off his clothes, discarding them without care on the bathroom tile. He extends his hand to you to invite you inside the shower behind him. “Mhm, sure you don’t.”
You scoff, tipping the toilet seat shut. “You can tease me for my snoring once you, my 27-year-old man, master the art of putting the damn seat down.”
“…Oops.”
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note. my dr. zayne would never forget to please his woman! but i really liked the concept sooooo :3 it was rly difficult for me to write him lol the dialogue might suuuuuckkkk but i hope i did him justice < 3 thank you for reading, interact if you enjoyed !!!
i ALSO kinda wanna do a similar version of this with sylus except… not nearly as gentle ig?? would you be interested??? do let me know.
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ozzgin · 2 months ago
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OZZ OMG OMG OMG THAT YANDERE PRISON THING OMG OMG OMG
*jitters with excitement*
I NEED MORE AHHHHH IT TICKLED MY BRAIN THE RIGHT AND WRONG WAY AT THE SAME TIME
Like if you're nice they'll just become your dogs and if you're not nice they'll give you a very rough foursome I'm down for either OMG OMG OMG help I have problems
To quote Markiplier: "I'm not a masochist, this is about power"
*drops dead*
*instantly revives*
Ahem, I saw you mention you might come up with small plots, so I'll do the logical thing to try to inspire you:
- clueless darling ask the leaders about their gangs and whatnot. Like nonchalantly. Because they're too nice darling thought it's no big deal lol
- darling subconsciously avoid blonde man (even tho he is my favourite hahah) after seeing him beat up the guy
- darling got drunk (somehow in a prison) and either gets horny (and try to let it out under the blankets forgetting they got roommates)or innocently touchy hugging all three of them and poking their unique features, sitting in their laps and so on. Or better yet, touches/approaches other inmates in front of the roommates...
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content: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, NSFW below the cut!
Inmates are creative. They will always find a way around the rules, and this time it happened to be a rather clumsy attempt at brewing alcohol. Had this been discovered by a guard, whoever concocted the beverage would've landed in detention.
Instead, it was you who found it, innocently assuming someone must've forgotten their water behind. You gulped down the clear liquid, thirsty after you walk, then promptly grimaced at its unexpected bitterness.
Safe to say you're now quite drunk.
That in itself would already be troublesome enough, but another thing is endangering yours and everyone else's peace: you're in a particularly flirty mood.
"What the hell are you doing?"
The officer's smile drops instantly, and he turns towards the deep voice. One of your criminal roommates glares at the sight with hollow eyes. You were clinging to the officer's arm, a dumb grin plastered on your face. The man in uniform quickly shoves you aside, his features pale and drained.
"It wasn't me who started it," he pleads.
You're quickly picked up by your bunkie, who is still staring at the guard. He won't be leaving this prison alive, that's for sure. Now, however, his priorities lie somewhere else.
The hallway spins as you're being carried away, and you shamelessly cling to your ride, feeling and groping the muscles and tracing along his tattooed skin.
"My God, at least wait until we're back to our cell," he groans with flushed cheeks.
The blonde one is trying to play it cool. Come, now, you're obviously out of it. He needs to be mature and tuck you in, or something along the line.
Easier said than done, especially with a raging boner. You're quick to notice it, and you certainly don't hesitate to point it out, making lewd gestures with your hands as some sort of offer.
"Are you sure you won't regret it tomorrow?"
"Hey now, I'm drunk, not unconscious," you bark between hiccups.
He may have interrogated you further, but the thought of your pretty little mouth struggling to take him in is too much to bear. He's essentially drooling by the time he pats his knee for you to come over.
The pierced one drops you on your bed with a flat expression. Annoyance? A closer look at his pursed lips, and one can tell he's really just struggling to maintain his composure.
"Please, I really need to-"
You hold him back by the arm and bat your eyelashes. In return, he clicks his tongue. Is this some sort of test from above? His beloved Darling is essentially begging to be fingered. Yet, he shouldn't be taking advantage of your state. He shouldn't...
Too late. You gasp at his rough fingers making their way in.
"Alright, don't be too loud," he concludes with a faint smirk.
The masked one gently places you on your bed, then plants himself before you with crossed arms.
"Nonsense. You're drunk."
"I mean it", you repeat yourself.
He does his best to look imposing. Truth be told, his knees weakened from the moment "fuck me" slipped out of your mouth. He gladly would, but he has morals. Well, when it comes to you, anyways.
Your pout seems to suggest this would be a long standoff. He sighs, then pushes you back onto the mattress.
"How about this? I'll take care of it," he explains quietly, his cloth hovering above your groin. "I'll be awaiting your offer again once you're sober."
For now, his tongue will have to do.
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[Yandere Prison] | [More Yandere Stories]
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luludeluluramblings · 3 months ago
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Smalltown!Neglected! Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Seven
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Eight
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I’m not sure if I’m satisfied with this. But, I doubt I’ll ever be satisfied with this. I want Reader to come off as more Bruce like with the emotional suppression and planning. And, this was my actual first and third attempt at dialogue. I’m gonna need some practice. But, I tried.
A/N: Up next we get some yandere!Bats vs. yandere!Smalltown action. (Holy frick is that gonna be hard to write.) I’m also going to start work on the Dick Obsession now. Gotta fight the temptation to write the Vigilante!Smalltown!Reader story while this is still in the works.
Warning: Yandere Themes.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
As the coming months passed by, Reader could feel Gotham starting to wear on them. Or, they at the least Wayne manor starting to wear on them. They haven’t been given permission to leave the manor since the kidnapping. Not even to drive their truck for some unhealthy, but soul healing fast food. Of course, that doesn’t stop the other residents of the house from leaving whenever they wish. 
They see the Bat Burger wrappers in the trash the morning after another soundless night in the manor. God, how they’d love to try it one day. 
But, as time moves on something draws closer. An important date. Reader’s legal eighteenth birthday. They’re excited, by all means. But, there’s something significantly more important coming sooner. 
Reader’s Younger Brother’s Birthday was just a week before Reader’s. There had been many fond memories made while growing up with the week between the two different dates being filled with fun and excitement. (And love.) 
With such an important date coming up, and with Momma and Daddy no longer being here, Reader had plans to make it a fun week. 
They just have to convince Bruce to let them go back to Smalltown. Just for the week. They’re all too busy to spend time with Reader anyway, besides this is important to them. They’ve stayed in the manor like asked. They’re grades are good. They do their chores. They don’t ask for much. It should be perfectly reasonable to request to let them visit back home. 
But, just in case, Reader approaches Dick next time he's in the manor and is smothering them in affection before he goes to disappear into the library. 
“Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?”
It’s a simple request. And, it makes Dick’s heart melt a bit. Reader’s the only one in the family to easily give into his affection and to have them finally ask him for help in such a sweet polite voice was heart melting.
Wholeheartedly, he agrees and he is rewarded. With Reader bouncing into his arms with an impressive amount of enthusiasm that he hasn’t had a chance to see previously. Probably due to always being so busy. Maybe he should make more time for Reader if they shower him with such genuine gratitude and affection like this. 
The thought lingers in his head as he makes his way towards the Batcave. A spring in his step despite the glares he receives as he makes his way down the stairs. 
The manor cameras had caught the entire thing, leaving the occupants in the cave to get a front row seat to Reader being sweet on Dick. 
He can’t stop the tiny smug smile from forming on his lips as Barbara gives him a disapproving ~~jealous~~ look. Or, the look of straight bitterness on Damian’s face. The mild satisfaction from Duke’s face being as blank as Cassandra’s. Stephanie’s forlorn expression. The way that Jason looks like he wants to shoot him with the gun he’s cleaning that makes him want to laugh with glee.. 
Tim doesn’t even look at him. Too annoyed with Dick as he sits at the Batcomputer furiously clicking and typing away on something. 
Bruce had been out at the moment for League Business. But, the entire family now has a competition forming. Whoever could convince Bruce for Reader would win. The prize being the winner possibly getting showered in Reader’s affection. And, the hope of visiting Reader’s hometown with them. The very idea of it makes some of them shudder with some particular emotions. 
The bombardment of pleading and puppy-dog eyes began almost as soon as Bruce stepped back into the cave. It was nearly comical how everyone petitioned Reader’s case. 
Hell, Bruce was nearly convinced they should all make the trip when Tim threw his bid in.
Pulling up all the research on Smalltown and how apparently harmless it was. He even managed to remotely bug Childhood Friend’s Brother’s phone just to double check. 
That’s when things spiral. 
Right at that very moment, a call comes through to the phone. It seems harmless at first. The guy talking to his boss. The two had immediately talked about Reader returning to town. As if the two knew without a doubt that they were coming back.
That sparked suspicions, but it's not what ignited the fire.
The fire came when the two started talking about Reader's time in Gotham. The whole kidnapping incident. Childhood Crush admitted that Reader tried to down play the incident to Nana. After which his boss ask a horrifying question.
"Do you and Grand Daddy need some help killing this guy? It might be a bit harder than the last one y'all killed."
The last one.
Immediately the phrase makes questions arise. But, once again things get worse.
"Nah, we'll let him live. He's from Gotham. He'll probably never come out this way. And, if he does them we'll drag him out where we drowned the last sorry son of a bitch. He was just in it for the money."
"That's right. The other guy just wanted to kill Reader to keep 'em for himself. Still..."
It was difficult to give the rest of the conversation their full attention after that.
It was like the blood had crystalized in their veins. Both cold fury and hot rage filling them till it seemed to shred their minds apart.
There was no way in heaven or hell or high water that they were possibly going to let Reader go back to that vile little town filled with monsters. As if Gotham wasn't filled with abominations of it's own designs.
Without a moment to delay Bruce Batman jumps into action, barking orders for Tim, Barbara, and Cassandra to start digging up everything imaginable on Smalltown. Every resident, every social media post or mention, every single person that has ever lived there, visited, and gone missing. "Find me the name of the bastard that nearly took my child to the grave. I want the memory of them wiped of the face of the earth as their bones rot in it."
The other's are ordered to cover his patrol and redouble their efforts to capture the remaining Gotham Rouges by any and all means necessary The Court of Owls is low priority until more is uncovered about Smalltown and what the hell happened.
Reader's usual pacing around the unoccupied halls of the manor conversing on the phone is interrupted by Bruce Batman stalking towards with a violence simmering under the surface of an obsidian mask. Easy to shatter and sharp to the touch. Before a words is even spoken the phone the lifeline is ripped from their hands and shattered under a pair of designer loafers.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You could only stagger back as you watched his foot trample over the well used phone. You hadn't even chance to hang up the conversation you were having, when Bruce had come barreling down the extravagant hall way you roamed so often you 'd already practically memorized the brush strokes on each painting and the pattern of the wood grain on the walls. Not even the chance to put a hold on the plans you were making before it all came to an abrupt halt without your blessing.
For a moment your just baffled. Looking at the shattered phone screen with pieces of glass and plastic on the ground before looking up at the shattered facade your father Bruce wore.
His face was deathly still. Not even a twitch. It gave him an inhuman like visage that set off the same warning bells that Jason Red Hood had made you hear.
So that's where he got it from.
You can't help put think, trying to form the words to question his actions and confront him. It isn't long before he gives you the excuse explanation for his unwarranted action himself.
"You're not going." Is all he says. His voice was cold enough to burn.
It doesn't take a genius to know what he's talking about.
"If this is about me getting Dick to help convince you-"
"Dick agrees. Everyone agrees. You are not going." The interruption is rude, but the words sting. They thought that everyone else would be on board with it. Even the members of the family that didn't care for their presence should have been on board with it.
"I'm not asking for a vote. I was asking for your permission and yours alone." Another attempt.
"I am saying no. I am your father and you will listen to me about this." The totality found in his icy voice makes them finally feel that helpless. Like nothing they say will improve this situation. That continuing to smile will not solve a damn thing.
"What did I do?" The resentment that has locked up tightly inside beings to swirl. Ire churning into gales. The long withheld temper becoming a tempest. "What the hell did I do to make you treat me like this?"
"This has nothing to do with you. This is my decision on the matter. You need-" The sound of a notification going off interrupts his words, but they don't stop the ringing in you're ears. Even after Bruce abruptly dismisses himself, muttering about getting you a new phone, before moving towards the library. Again.
For once, you don't bother cleaning up the shattered pieces on the floor. Leaving them on the ornate carpet in the lavish and deserted hall. You have planning to do. Restraint is gone. Holding back is over. It's time to take things into your own hands. They want to ignore you, fine. You'll leave and you'll fucking live without them.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Consequently, incoming weather reports start showing some unusual patterns on the news that week. Meteorologist say there's a massive possibility of a potential hurricane brewing off the coast. Everyone is on edge. (Gotham is already a disaster as is. No one wants another one on top of it.)
Reader's not to worried. They grew up with Hurricane parties. Besides the manor has it's own power grid says Alfred. Gotham's power grid is a bit more vulnerable, but luckily the Hospitals and Arkham are on different power grids. Everything should be alright. (Everything should also go according to plan.)
The next time Dick comes by, Reader is a bit short with him. Giving him a disgruntled look that breaks his heart a little and makes it melt. Try as he might he gets nothing other than their annoyance. Even when he finally admits it was Tim's fault they had been denied the chance to go home. It does make them pout even more, how cute. Even when he gifts them a newer phone. Their not stupid, the damn thing is probably bugged to high heaven. And, it's missing all their old contacts since Bruce slammed the SD card under his big bat toe.
Their clearly in a foul mood and everyone is being subjugated to the silent treatment. As their birthday, and their younger brother's birthday, draws closer and closer, a dark cloud seems to hang over them and Gotham.
In a moment born from guilt and ignorance, Bruce buys them a car as an early birthday present. A grandiose little luxury model. With all the bells and whistles. It's even in their favorite color. Not that anyone in the family asked what it was. (Tim might have had something to do with it. After all he did get them banned from traveling. Not that he feels guilty. No way in hell was he letting you go. Especially without him or the others.)
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
"It seems kinda wasteful." You can't help saying it. To tired of putting on that pleasant people pleaser mask for once.
"I know it's a bit extravagant, but since everyone has their own car I thought you should have your own too." Bruce had such an eager smile on his face. Like the whole incident with the crushing your hopes and your phone never happened.
To bad you haven't forgotten nor forgiven.
"Still a waste. I'm not going to get to drive it anywhere." Vinegar coating your tongue as you look at the sleek design.
You can hear everyone around you stop cooing and praising the gift. There's no need to further elaborate your point. He gets it. The family gets it. The very earth you stand on gets it. You're not leaving this house. There's no need for the tank of gas to be filled. Or the damn thing to be charged since its some fucking electric hybrid, and probably filled to the brim with all sorts of nasty little tracking bugs.
You could have left it at that. But why not sink that needle deeper into his chest. Not a knife. Never a knife. You want your words to sting and stick. No taking the cut and letting it heal overtime. Let it be tattooed on the skin.
"Besides I already have Daddy's old truck. I don't need this." Don't those words hit like a strike to the soul. Bruce grows visibly still at them. That practiced mask going up and hiding the tells from all of them. Except Cassandra. There's no hiding things from her. They're all laid bare in front of her and she can tell everyone has somethings to say. While you have something to scream.
"You could at the very least be grateful for Father's gift" Damian spoke. He had been so well behaved to far. Keeping quite and watching with attentive green eyes. He could tell this wasn't going to go in the family's favor. He didn't necessarily blamed you for being disgruntled. But, would it kill you to give them a smile. They missed those. Hell, he missed those.
Something in you crackled, but you managed to hold you're tongue. The side-eye you gave him, however spoke enough volumes for you instead.
Astonishingly, it was Duke that set off the electric charge.
"I mean, it is a really nice car. You sure you don't want to take it for a spin?" You can here his attempt at trying to defuse the static in the are, but as fond of him as you are compared to the others, it just sets you off.
"Oh, and where to exactly?" You can't help but snort. "Down the driveway and back?"
"You're acting like a brat." Jason throwing in his two cents. Of course he would say that. And, he's rewarded with a voltaic look from you eyes and a snarl from your lips.
"I. Don't. Care." The words echo in the massive car garage. Bouncing of the walls and the other sleek fancy model cars in it. Your apathy and anger is reward with quiet.
It doesn't last long.
"Let's all just calm down." Dick steps between them, trying to play reconciler. All it serves to do is make you feel more isolated. The way he steps between you cuts you off from the rest of the group and makes it seem like he's singling you out.
"I am calm!" The words coming from your clenched jaw.
"They're the one acting like a spoiled little-"
"Jason, enough." Bruce finally steps in. That stoic look still on his face. Internally, he knows he miscalculated. He made a mistake, and it's humbling to know he can still make them at his age and with all his experience. Still, he wears the mask. He's too busy recalculating and coming up with another plan. Perhaps he was putting to much focus on the wrong thing. That didn't stop him from glaring at that classless truck in his garage.
"Of fucking course Daddy's princess gets away with acting like a brat." Jason doesn't stop though, looking directly at you. Always looking at you. Everyone is always looking at you. But never speaking these days.
"Fuck you." You whisper. Caution and hesitance thrown into the stirring winds.
"Uh-oh, looks like the princess finally snapped." That sickly green look appearing in his eyes. God, does he love this. He knew they had some fucking bite in them. Some spice. Something that made them even more delicious. That just enhanced their sweetness tenfold.
"Jason. Knock it off." Barbara murmurs after Cassandra places a hand on her shoulder. Signaling the direction this could easily head in.
"No, I don't think I will." He sneers, making an attempt to step around Dick and get in your face. It's Tim and Stephanie that try to stop him this time. Both muttering to him and trying to get him to calm down.
You can clearly see it. Their family dynamic. Clear as day. It's right in front of you for you to watch unfold while you stand on the outside looking in. Only getting stray remnants of it when they deem you worth it. You're always worth it though, silly little sugarplum. They’re just terrible at showing it, you poor poor thing. That'll change soon, don't worry. Actually, you should worry.
There's no need to stick around any longer. No fucking need at all. Your feet echoing as you leave the room filled with strangers family and cars. You're leaving. You're going home. And you're going home tonight.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
That night, the news is blaring over Gotham. A sudden hurricane off the coast is set to hit by nightfall. People are being asked to evacuate, already there is panic in the streets.
As much as they don't want to leave things unresolved, the family has no choice, but to respond. Making sure evacuations go smoothly. Keeping the mobs at bay in the stores. Checking that the Arkham inmates are both secure and safe.
It gets worse when the reports further come in. There was lightning spotted off the coast. A lightning storm predicted to hit before the hurricane. That would double the difficulties everyone in Gotham was dealing with.
Most everyone, but Reader.
With the family busy they had plenty of time to pack a few belongings and necessities for a long drive. Glowing eyes taking inventory as the electricity crackled under their skin and the distant skies. Brewing excitement in their chest as the skies filled with dark clouds. Some might think it ominous. But, for Reader it was freedom.
In Gotham that ominous feeling continued. It was as if Gotham itself knew what chaos was about to unfold. Chaos that it would have reveled in if not for the impending feeling of loss found not only in the empty streets, but in Wayne Manor.
As the wind started to wail, nightfall seemed to come earlier with how dark the clouds made the sky. Rain poured in sheets. Most of the Bats took cover, but when the lightning began to strike is when things really when to hell.
By luck or something else, the Gotham power grid was hit. Shutting down over half the city in the first moments of the storm. The downpour hadn't even soaked the concrete when it struck.
The darkness washed over the city and the family knew it was going to be a long long night.
Barbara, in Oracle mode in the Batcave, was focused on keeping everyone updated on new alerts and any looting. She didn't have a chance to glance at the manor cameras and see Reader walking through the halls with a bag on their shoulders before. Multiple strikes of lightning reverberated through the manor. They could be heard echoing all the way down in the cave.
And, they caused the power to go out.
It was only out for twenty minuets. Twenty long minuets of Barbara and Alfred trying to fix the power and get everyone back in contact with each other.
A lot can happen in twenty minutes. Like a garage door opening and closing manually. Like someone driving down the long driveway out of the security gate without being noticed. Like someone could escape without notice in those twenty minutes.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury @lilyalone @addie-r-u-ok @space1crow @imaginarydreams @dhanyasri @rosalietodd013 @rissareader @rando2509 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @interobanginyourmom @heyitsaloy @myanyan-me @animegoddess15 @resident-cryptid @schaarfyx
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moonxknightx · 4 months ago
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : THE ARGUMENT : :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: Angst but fluff at the end!!
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Contains themes of intense argument, accidental injury, and emotional distress. It includes descriptions of pain and fear as well as a depiction of physical and emotional reconciliation.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: During a heated argument, Logan accidentally scratches your cheek. Shocked and scared, you pull away, but his sincere apologies and careful care help mend the emotional rift, leading to reconciliation.
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THE LIVING ROOM WAS CAST IN THE FADING LIGHT OF THE SETTING SUN, the shadows elongating across the floor as tension thickened in the air. Logan and you were in the middle of a bitter argument, voices raised, emotions frayed.
"You never understand me!" you shouted, your frustration palpable. "Every time I try to share something important, you just shut me down. How am I supposed to deal with that?"
Logan’s expression was a mix of irritation and disbelief. "I do understand! I’m not shutting you down. I’m trying to protect you from things you don’t need to worry about!"
"You think you know what’s best for me, but you don’t!" you shot back, anger making your voice crack. "You’re so caught up in your own world that you can’t see how much this hurts me!"
Logan’s face was taut with frustration as he threw his hands up in exasperation. "I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just trying to keep things together. You don’t know what it’s like, and you don’t get to judge me for how I cope."
"Judge you? I’m not judging you!" you cried out, your voice rising with every word. "I’m trying to be a part of your life, to understand your pain, but you push me away every time I try!"
The argument spiraled, each of you lashing out, fueled by pent-up emotions and misunderstandings. The more you both spoke, the more entrenched you became in your anger and hurt.
In the heat of the argument, Logan’s frustration boiled over. He swung his arm out sharply, trying to emphasize his point, but his claws, which had been retracted, extended reflexively. His movement was sudden and uncontrolled, and the sharp metal grazed your cheek.
The sound of tearing flesh and your gasp filled the room. A sharp pain exploded across your face, and you instinctively clutched your cheek, stumbling back. Blood began to trickle down your face, mingling with your tears.
Logan’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the result of his actions. "Oh God, no!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and horror. "What have I done?"
You stood frozen, shock and pain leaving you momentarily immobilized. The initial sting of the cut was quickly overshadowed by a numbing fear. Your eyes were wide with terror as you stared at the blood trickling from the wound. The sight of Logan’s panicked face only made the situation feel more surreal.
Logan took a tentative step toward you, his hands raised in a gesture of helplessness. "Please, let me help you. I didn’t mean to—" His voice was choked with emotion, his usual gruffness replaced by a raw, pained vulnerability. "I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."
But as he moved closer, you flinched away, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The pain and fear made it hard to think straight. "Don’t come near me," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Stay away."
The fear in your voice made Logan freeze. He looked at you, his face a mix of anguish and regret. "No, please, I—" His voice cracked as he tried to explain, "I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry."
You continued to back away, the blood on your cheek mingling with the tears streaming down your face. Logan’s heart ached seeing you like this. He desperately tried to keep his voice calm and steady, despite the turmoil inside him.
"Just sit down, okay?" Logan’s voice was pleading, almost breaking. "I’ll get a first aid kit. Please, just sit down. I need to help you."
You hesitated, your body trembling with shock and pain. Slowly, you sank onto the edge of the couch, trying to steady your breath. Logan dashed to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit with trembling hands. He returned to you, moving cautiously to avoid any sudden movements that might make things worse.
Logan knelt in front of you, keeping a respectful distance as he carefully opened the first aid kit. His hands shook as he prepared the supplies, his eyes darting between the kit and your face.
"I’m here," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I just want to help you. Please let me."
You nodded slowly, tears still falling as you tried to control your breathing. Logan’s touch was gentle as he cleaned the wound, his eyes never leaving yours. "I’m so sorry," he repeated over and over, his voice filled with remorse. "I never wanted to hurt you. I was just so frustrated. Please forgive me."
As he worked, he tried to explain, his voice a constant murmur of apologies and reassurances. "I know I can’t undo this," he said softly, "but I want to make things right. I need you to know that I care about you, that I’m here for you."
Logan carefully bandaged the cut on your cheek, his touch tender and cautious. He avoided any sudden movements, mindful of the pain you were in. Once he was done, he sat beside you, his posture weary but attentive.
"Can we talk now?" Logan asked gently, his voice a mix of pleading and sincerity. "I need to understand what happened, what’s going on with us. I want to fix this. I want to make things right."
The tears had slowed, and as you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes began to cut through your fear and hurt. You nodded, your voice still trembling but more composed. "I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m scared, and I just… I need to feel safe.”
Logan’s eyes softened with relief. He moved closer, his arm gently wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "I’m here," he murmured into your hair, his voice steady and reassuring. "I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. I’m sorry for everything."
You leaned into his embrace, the warmth of his body and the sincerity in his touch helping to ease the emotional pain. Logan held you close, whispering soft apologies and promises of a better future. The warmth of his embrace began to heal the wounds that went beyond the physical.
As the night settled in, the earlier turmoil faded, replaced by a renewed sense of connection and understanding. The quiet of the evening was filled with the gentle sounds of Logan’s reassurances and your steadying breaths.
You pulled back slightly to look at him, a small, tentative smile on your lips. "Thank you," you said softly, your voice steadier now. "Thank you for being here and for caring."
Logan’s smile was filled with a mix of relief and affection. "Always," he replied, his voice soft but full of conviction. "I’ll always be here, no matter what."
And as the night deepened, the warmth of your renewed bond wrapped around you both, offering comfort and hope for the future.
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🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes
If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! 🫶
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chlorinecake · 1 year ago
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imagine taking care of riki while he’s sick and he can’t resist the urge to give you kissies all over bc he’s so inluv with you :(
[Vitamin C]uddles —⊹ N.RK (西村力) 🛏️
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Pairing… ⊹ ࣪ ˖ sick boyfriend!niki x gf!reader
Warnings… ⊹ ࣪ ˖ kissing, lots of teasing, fluff
Words… ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 521 -> “I’ll take care of you. Duh.”
Despite his usually intimidating appearance, Niki was a huge baby on the inside, and those attributes were only amplified whenever he wasn’t feeling well.
The poor boy had been sick ever since he got back from traveling, so you took it upon yourself to care for him until he got better.
“Hey, this needs more soy sauce… I can hardly taste it,” Niki whined, taking a dissatisfied sip from the chicken soup you ordered.
“Niki, there’s already so much in here that the broth turned brown. Now eat up before it gets cold,” you said, placing a napkin on the table tray beside him.
“I will, but only if you stay with me this time.”
You turned your head at his words, “Aww, d’you miss me?”
“No, I’ve been in bed all day and I’m just bored.”
“Riigght,” you said, spoon feeding him a glob of the grape flavored medicine.
He made a weird face, trying to get over the bitter taste of the cough syrup, “My God, that tastes like poison!”
You giggled at your boyfriends words, climbing in bed next to him with a large plate of assorted sushi rolls, “Try some with wasabi, too! It might help unclog your sinuses.”
Using the chopsticks, you dipped a sushi roll into the chunky green paste, bringing it to his mouth with an airplane motion.
You must’ve put too much, because his eyes immediately started watering as he ate it.
“Do you have any other talents aside from torturing me everyday?” He asked, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Yup,” you said plainly, escaping his side, “I’m pretty good at leaving sick people to fend for themselves.”
He watched as you walked toward the door, “Byeeee… wait! NOO!! I miss you already!”
“But you just said bye?”
“I didn’t mean it, baby. Come back please!! You forgot to give me vitamin C.”
“Vitamin what?” You asked, turning to face him with your arms crossed.
“Vitamin C… for cuddles,” he clarified, pouting.
“Fine,” you said sharply, “but only if you promise not to say anything else stupid… or mean.”
“Ok, ok, just stop stalling and get over here already!”
You walked back to the bed, lying next to Niki under the covers as he put the sushi platter on the bedside table.
“Wahhh, you’re so warm,” you giggled, your silly boyfriend swinging his leg over your body.
“Okay, now what are you doing?”
“Making a cage for you, my naughty little kitten,” he smiled, poking your nose.
“But I don’t like cages,” you sulked.
“Well then pretend it’s a seatbelt instead,” he chirped.
“Fine…”
“Double FINE! Can I get a kiss now?”
“What? No, what if you get me sick?”
“Then I’ll take care of you. Duh… and before you ask, yes, I promise,” he chuckled, resting his hand on your neck before cradling your face in his hand, leaving feather light kisses all over your face.
“Thank you for not rejecting my heebie-jeebies,” he said in between pecking your cheeks.
“Well when you put it like that, it kinda makes me want to,” you teased, squirming in his warm embrace.
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More like this: Kisses with Riki in the dressing room
౨ৎ Thank you for reading this quick little fic, and special thanks to the lovely anon who requested this piece!
౨ৎ Feel free to check out more cute and fun reads like this at the pinned post on my blog :3
౨ৎ Tags: kinda got lazy here but bear with me ~ @squoxle @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @nikisdubblchococake
update 12/03: Thank you all so much for 1,000 likes!!
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kittenintheden · 30 days ago
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When I Think About You
surprise jorkin it PWP fic drop lol. enjoy.
Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion/Reader (You) Word Count: 1550 Content: 18+, jealousy, voyeurism, masturbation, mutual masturbation (sort of?), pillow humping, gender-neutral Tav/Reader
AO3 Link
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You went to bed early tonight.
Well, earlier than you typically do. Not that Astarion has been paying you much attention. Hardly any, really. You’re just easy to miss.
Notice. You’re easy to notice. Because you’re so obvious.
Obviously annoying, obviously infuriating, obviously determined, and obviously infatuated with him. True, that had been his goal, but hells, you could blush a little less at his come-ons. Even if it does look cute on you.
Not that he thinks you’re cute. Not really.
The others are packing up their gear and turning in for the night. Astarion will take first watch like he typically does, have a quick trance, and get up in the early morning hours for a hunt. Easy. Routine.
So what if he’s falling into a routine with these people. It makes things simpler.
He should check on you. Just to make sure you’re not ill. For his health more than yours. These days, a headache could mean a rapid onset of calamari face. He’s doing everyone a favor, honestly.
When he approaches your tent, his steps slow to a stop as his ears pick up noise from inside your tent. You aren’t asleep.
And by the sound of it – and it’s a sound Astarion knows well – you aren’t alone.
He huffs an irritated breath through his nose. Gods damn it. He really thought he had you in the bag. There’s a shard of something sharp lodged beneath his rib. Annoyance, probably. Disappointment that he’s back to square one. Bitterness that he lost another competition, even when he’s doing what he does best.
Astarion turns to walk away. Takes three steps. Stops. Turns his head back toward the sound.
Who is it?
Who are you with?
He has his suspicions, but might as well take a quick peek to verify. His steps as he approaches are catlike. Not that you’d notice anyway, preoccupied as you are. He won’t look much. Only enough to see who stole his prize.
His mark. Who stole his mark.
Astarion pauses at the far side of your closed tent flap and finds a gap in the cloth. He leans in, eyes keen in the dark, and his mouth goes dry when he sees your hips grinding against someone, the length of your body pressed tight to theirs while you move over them. A blanket covers you both, but it doesn’t hide the passion of your movement.
He jerks his head away, a ball of tension aching in his gut. Ridiculous. He should go kill something. He walks toward the woods.
And stops with a sigh.
Astarion hates himself for it, this burning curiosity to know exactly who you’re riding so enthusiastically. Steeling himself, he creeps back and peeks once more through the split in the fabric.
You’re sitting up, now, showing him the long line of your spine in the center of your bare back as your hips continue to work. Every puff of breath through your lips is desperate, occasionally lilting up in a breathless moan.
Astarion worries his lip between his teeth. The muscles beneath your skin ripple, your blood thrumming so close and smelling so much of you, sweetened with the scent of arousal. If you’d just lean a little one way or the other, he could see who’s working you so… so…
There’s a flash of heat in his core followed by a sparking current of electricity, setting everything alight. He’d been doing his best to ignore the steady swell of his cock, but ignoring it is no longer an option as he goes hard as stone, the length of him straining toward his hip bone. Subconsciously, he cants his hips into the empty air and finds absolutely no relief. He has to swallow back a soft moan of his own.
The rolling globes of your arse are shaped perfectly beneath your thin wool blanket. Sharp, rocking thrusts against your playmate, against whichever lucky wretch currently feels the sticky heat of you while he watches.
Astarion lets his hand drift to the front of his breeches and sucks his breath in through his teeth when his palm grazes firmly over the covered head of his cock.
 You run a hand up your side and feel your own chest, maintaining your rhythm as you whimper.
Astarion’s fingers move to loosen his laces, lips parted as he begins to softly pant.
Your hand moves back down and you’re… yes, you’re putting your fingers between your legs, and you throw your head back with a gasp.
His fingers dip below his waistband and he curls in on himself with a huff as he takes himself in hand and begins to pump. Once, twice… ah, gods, that’s nice.
Though being under you would be even nicer.
Lucky sod. Who is it?
The blanket slips down over the curve of your arse, falling to one side and his breath catches as he realizes he’s about to get his answer.
Fabric falls aside and your incredible arse is grinding back and forth. You’re riding yourself to absolute delirium with…
A spare bedroll.
Astarion’s hand stutters to a stop and he doesn’t even breathe as realization hits him. You weren’t with someone else at all. The whole time, you’ve been furiously fucking yourself, grinding needily against your bedding for relief.
And somehow, some way, that makes him even harder. He mouths “oh, fuck” and goes back to stroking himself with renewed vigor. 
You’re desperately aroused, no longer trying to quiet your whimpers as you work your hips in circles against the bedroll while you rub yourself at the same time, your shoulders flushed with need. Your body undulates in wave after wave and Astarion feels quite certain that if he were inside you right now, he’d have come already. He puts his free hand over his mouth, pressing his palm to his lips to keep quiet.
You make a frustrated noise and swing your leg off the bedroll, and for a brief alarming moment, Astarion thinks you’re about to give up, and there’s no way he could let that stand. For either of you.
But then you shove the bedroll away with a huff and flop onto your back without opening your eyes, which is good news for Astarion, since you’d almost certainly see the silhouette of him outside your tent if you were paying attention. Instead, you spread your legs wide and give him a glorious view as one hand returns to its place between your legs and is quickly joined by the other.
Astarion shudders out a breath, the sound thankfully masked by your own rapid pants as you stroke yourself with one hand and trace around your entrance with the other. When you push two fingers inside and begin to pump in and out, Astarion’s knees threaten to give out as he picks up his pace. The tide of pleasure in his core rises and threatens to crest.
Gods, gods, he isn’t even fucking you and you’re still going to make him come before you do.
Your pretty little moans are too much. Your furrowed brow, your flushed cheeks, the way your thighs twitch and your belly shivers with the pleasure you’re lavishing on yourself. What a beauty you are, what a treat, what a-
“-arion,” you whisper, so quietly that he nearly misses it.
“Hah,” he breathes, his pleasure shuddering right on the edge of its peak. His mind must’ve filled that in. There’s no way you said what he thought you said.
He presses his face to the split in the fabric and leans against the tentpole, jerking himself firmly as he watches you arch your back up off the ground, lifting your hips into the air again, again, again, until your hands slow.
“Oh, Astarion,” you whisper just before you slam back down to earth and groan out your release, your slick making your skin shine in the low light.
“Sh-”
Astarion slams his hand over his mouth and ducks to the side, sinking silently to the ground around the corner of your tent just before he creams himself, a pulse of spend striping the ground beneath him, followed by another, and another. His head hangs heavily before him as he catches his breath and dazedly tries to piece together what the fuck just happened.
He sits back, chest heaving and ears ringing.
Then whips his head to the side when he hears you stir inside the tent and tentatively say, “... Hello? Is someone there?”
Astarion holds his breath, which does not help with his current state of floaty lightheadedness.
Then you say, “... Astarion?”
And the sound of his name on your lips sends another ripple of pleasure through him as his cock pulses and drips one last time for good measure.
It takes a minute, but you eventually convince yourself you were hearing things and settle down to sleep, presumably in a more relaxed state than when you first retired. Astarion waits until your breathing slows before he sneaks away, silently tucking himself back into his clothes.
He holds his breath the entire time.
On the other side of camp inside the safety of his own tent, he releases it in a rush, running his unused hand through his curls as realization finally catches up to him.
“Oh, no,” he whispers.
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