#sorry that some of these are longer than others I’m getting tired
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imsofreakingtired · 2 days ago
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anorexia comfort w sevika??
thanks for your request anon; this is definitely a painful topic and as a survivor myself i tried to render it with as much sensitivity and honesty as i could. that being said, if this content is triggering to anyone, please scroll away and take care of yourselves 💙💙💙
francis forever
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CONTENT WARNINGS: depictions of an eating disorder, body dysmorphia, self-harm, heavy angst
“i don’t need the world to see that i’ve been the best i can be but i don’t think i can stand to be where you don’t see me.”
**set in a modern au**
~~~
At first, Sevika says nothing. She notices everything, she sees how tired you look nowadays, the sudden bouts of irritation, your tendency to dress in layers even in the warm indoors. She sees you breathless after climbing a single flight of stairs, the way your chapped lips bleed from picking at them. But she doesn’t want to bring it up and put you on the spot. She tries to be there. Tries to indicate that if you want to talk, she’ll listen. But it’s difficult, when you barely have time to see each other during the day, both of you have a job or classes. By the time she gets back to the apartment you’re asleep, and more often than not she leaves in the morning before you’re awake. 
And you dread showing something, betraying something, even a hint at the downward spiral. You don’t want her to know about the nights you stay awake curled into yourself, feeling like a crumpled forgotten thing, feeling like you don’t even know yourself anymore. You’re terrified she’ll leave you if she finds out. You cover every inch of your body not only because you can no longer stand seeing skin in the mirror without breaking down, but because you don’t want Sevika to see the changes, the sudden drop in weight. You still want to be the girl she fell in love with. You need to believe you can still be that girl. 
You try to keep up a front of relative calm. It’s hard. It’s so fucking hard. It gets worse every day, and some days even the mere mention of eating feels like a blade in your chest. An innocent question from Sevika. Do you want a sandwich? I’m making some. You don’t show the panic rising in your throat. You don’t let it into your voice. No, thanks. I’m not hungry. 
Food becomes a commodity, a currency, a prize, a bargain, something to be earned, exchanged, punished, shunned, craved, tortured. Anything but a right. You allow yourself a small snack if you work out for an hour afterwards. Nutrition labels on food products become lines of code, to be analyzed, judged, rejected or accepted. Sevika begins to ask you, in a gentle voice, things like baby, did you eat today? You evade the questions or lie to her outright. Sevika does not remember the last time she saw you eat something, something substantial, something that wasn’t unseasoned egg whites or a couple of green grapes. When you start returning from the gym late in the evening, nearly stumbling from exhaustion, she begins to seriously worry.
When she accidentally drops one of your notebooks and sees the flood of post-it notes covered in tiny letters and numbers, dates and calories, she feels nearly sick with dread. 
When she finds you on the bathroom floor, razor in hand and thin ribbons of blood lacing your forearm, she thinks she can feel the world crack open and crumble around her. 
Oh, God. She keeps saying. She drops to the floor next to you and gathers you in her arms. It’s okay. You’re okay.
And you’re thinking, this is it. I’ve fucked it all over. And then you’re not thinking at all, because the feeling of her warm body against yours breaks something inside of you. You’re crying so hard you can barely draw breath enough to say, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.
Sevika pulls back and cradles your face, and you don’t notice it at the time but looking back you can remember her eyes were red with tears as well. Baby, don’t say that. Please don’t say that. You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who’s sorry. 
Sevika can remember a similar period of her life in high school, when she limited herself to half an apple and half a glass of milk a day, ran three miles every day in a sweatsuit, lifted weights in her father’s basement until her arms physically could not move anymore. She remembers the desperate need for something, even as her body eroded, even as her head spun every time she stood up. A need to prove herself—prove herself worthy of something, to someone—but what? She doesn’t even remember what it was all for. All she can recall now is the endless loneliness, a bottomless void. She had pulled herself out of it. But she couldn’t even save you. 
I should have said something, done something, Sevika says. 
You watch her bandage your arm, and her tenderness feels like murder. I don’t deserve you, you say. I’m giving you so much trouble.
Sevika doesn’t say anything for a moment. She holds your arm in both her hands as if you are something fragile and precious. Then, gently, she kisses the top of your head. 
You are not trouble to me, she says. You’re everything but that. 
Things don’t magically get better after Sevika finds out. It takes a long time to undo the knots of obsession and self-loathing that you’ve wound around your neck. It takes an even longer time to admit to yourself that you are worth your own love, your own acceptance. Step by step, Sevika tells you. Everything takes time. Building things takes time. Undoing things takes time too. No matter what, she says, I’m proud of you. 
Sevika walks you to therapy every week, whether or not she has an overlapping commitment. She doesn’t say much on the walks there, not unless you feel like talking. She knows you just need her there, walking next to you, holding your hand tightly. She picks you up afterwards. Keeps her arm around you as you walk home. She knows that what you need, all you really need, is just to know she’s there, that you aren’t alone. And Sevika shows this to you in every way she can.
~~~
a/n: if you have ever or are currently going through something like this, please know you are so very very very worth every step of recovery. you're strong and loved and perfect as you are, so please take care of yourself!! 💙🙏
also, if there are any specific tags i should add to more distressing posts, please let me know! still new to tumblr and its language lol
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incomplete-leclerc · 1 day ago
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 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗞𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦. franco colapinto · #43
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   your boyfriend acts on impulse, leading him to get into fights, and you to worry about his safety.
genres : hurt/comfort ... established relationship ... franco x fem!reader.  request : anon for franco + stitches on a cheekbone for the 100 event. word count : 0.6k. warnings : mild arguing ... mention of injuries (bruises, a cut, stitches) ... mention of franco punching someone ... profanity ... some spanish pentanes (i do not speak spanish but i think they're all translated correctly).  note : tell me why there were no good pics of franco so i had to find a random gif instead LIKE i swear finding pics takes longer than writing the actual fics sometimes.   ( masterlist ) ( taglist )
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“Franco? Where the fuck have you been?” you asked disgruntledly as the figure of your boyfriend stepped through the door. Wide eyes, clearly tired, but they softened at the sound of your voice, no matter how irritated your tone was. He dropped his tattered backpack on the floor and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly and nuzzling his face into your neck. 
“I’m so sorry, hermosa. I didn’t mean to leave you worried,” he whispered. You breathed, closing your eyes and reciprocating the hug. More than twenty-four hours with no word from him had you thinking of the worst possible scenarios to explain what had happened. Although you were still very much mad at him, you let him have the hug that you both needed in the moment. Breathing in his familiar scent, letting it calm your senses just slightly. He was safe, back in your arms. You could finally let your brain take a break from running in circles.
You felt him press a few kisses to your neck, soft and slow, travelling up to your cheek until you pulled away from the hug. 
“Where were you? Why didn’t you call?” you questioned, withdrawing to look at his face. 
“My phone died. And I got in a little fight— but, I’m really okay, Y/n. It was just a crazy night.”
Your face fell. “You’re so reckless all the time, amor. Don’t you ever stop to use your brain once?” 
You knew the words would do little to change anything. Franco was messy. Nothing could magically make him a clean person. Usually it didn’t bother you. It was something you loved about him. But when it got in the way of his safety, it scared you. Staring at the bruises starting to form on his left cheek, and the cut on his cheekbone closed up with a few stitches, you only wished he would listen to you for once. 
“How’d you start a fight this time?” you asked, leading Franco to sit down on the couch. Now that he was back home, it was time for you to take charge and take care of him. And if you were lucky, knock some sense into his brain. He was silent for a moment, thinking of how to phrase what had happened in the mildest way possible.
“Well… we were all drunk, and some guys said some things about you, so I just punched them in the face so they would shut up,” he said simply, trying to stop himself from grinning. You stared at him in shock. 
“Franco—”
“Y/n, you can’t possibly have expected me to just let them talk shit about you? I don’t think I overreacted,” he defended. In his mind, a few bruises to his face was more than worth it to shut up a few assholes talking about his girlfriend. And seeing them run off with much worse injuries than him was satisfying. 
“You didn’t have to fight them over it. Now you’re hurt, and I was left worrying about you for hours. It was unnecessary and completely avoidable,” you pleaded, hoping that he would understand where you were coming from. A few tears building in your eyes stopped Franco from arguing over it more.
“I’m sorry, hermosa,” he whispered, cupping your face and silencing you of any other critical words. You knew it was time to drop the issue. You didn’t want to press him more after he apologized. “I won’t do it again,” he said, noticing the doubt in your eyes. It eased up, and you relaxed slightly. 
“Promise?” 
“Swear on my life,” he assured, sincerity swimming in his pearly eyes. You knew he meant it this time.
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taglist: @caffeinboi
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4klovver · 2 days ago
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dancing in a jazz bar pt.2
scienceteacher!matt x musicteacher!reader angst!!
part one here
a/n; sorry this took so long, i was SO BUSY this week but i hope you enjoy. I have some more things cooking up so watch you (chris x reader) YAYAYAYAY okay have fun bye byebye
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It’s been a couple of days; today’s the first day back at work. Some part of you feels lonely; some part of you never realized how much you saw Matt. Or maybe how much you annoyed him. You had rage and sadness all wound up in you, forming a constant tight knot in the pit of your stomach. 
You don’t know if him not reaching out to you is better or worse than if he did reach out to you. You desperately try not to think about him, about that night, but every time you get a moment to yourself, it just plagues your mind. When you see him in the office, the teacher lounge, or just anywhere, you can’t not clench your jaw and look down. 
When you get home, you just curl into bed and eat crappy takeout, wishing you were anywhere else. Wanting to take back everything you did or said. 
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・  
If you think it’s taken a toll on you, Matt has been in ruins. Him giving you “the space you need” has been harder than expected. He’s lived the past few days playing that moment over and over, regret filling his mind, leaving him with a migraine. 
He hasn’t properly slept or eaten since that night. Once he got home from your apartment, he just collapsed on his couch. His usual night routine, containing watering his plants and doing basic skincare, slipping away from him. 
You wouldn’t look at him in the short moments you would pass each other in the hallway. If you looked at him, you would see sunken-in tired eyes and messed-up hair. He knew it was getting back when students asked if he was doing alright. 
He knows he needs to do something, but he doesn’t know how to. Does he do a big gesture like flowers and a mariachi band, or does he beg for your forgiveness with a heartfelt message? A text, maybe a call, would in person be better? He spends hours sitting in bed contemplating every possible outcome of his actions. 
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・  
You go set up your things for your 5th period music class. Putting your notebooks and papers on top of the piano binder sitting on the stand at the top. Students start to shuffle into the class, some sitting in seats, some congregating near the piano. While you get situated, you can’t help but overhear some of your students’ conversations. 
“Yeah, Mr. Sturniolo has been looking just really…sad looking. Just like tired.” One student says worried, making you look up slightly. “I know he just seems off makes class kinda of a bore.” Does he look tired because of you? You don’t want to be narcissistic, but you never know. 
All you do is sit there just thinking about Matt and yourself and if you should reach out. “Uhh, Ms. Y/l/n, the bell just rang.” A student says to you, pulling you away from your thoughts. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Good Morning everyone!” Your teaching personality switching on like a light switch. 
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・  
You can’t stop thinking about Matt and what your students said. Your head is reeling, not knowing what to do. You’ve never felt like this about anything, and you don’t want to mess it up. 
When you leave work, you desperately need a pick-me-up feeling like a bus hit you. You sluggishly make your way to a local coffee shop, slumping into a seat. You contemplate everything. Maybe Matt was just sick. You thought he would’ve reached out by now if it was really affecting him that badly. You certainly were not going to reach out to him, beg him to be with you, and grovel for it. 
You had fully accepted your defeat, knowing nothing could take things back to the way they were. Tomorrow, you would try to make new friends and put this whole thing behind you. 
Leaving the coffee shop, you mosey your way home, taking the longer way and just enjoying your time you have to yourself.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・  
Matt got to your apartment at 2:45. He gunned it to the flower shop, then to your apartment door, assuming you would be home right away. He made sure to fix his hair up and smooth out his wrinkly clothes. 
It’s now almost 4:15, and he’s sitting outside your door. He knows you’re not in your apartment because he knocked about 10 times over the course of 30 minutes. So now he’s just waiting, hoping you would be home soon. Even if you weren’t, he’d wait and wait until you were. 
All he could do was sit and wait. 
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・  
Halfway through your “peaceful walk,” the rage and confusion in you were too pent up. You never fully realized how much he meant to you, and now he’s gone, you don’t know if it will help or make it worse, but you at the very least deserve an explanation. 
You turn on your heels and walk right to Matt’s apartment. You’ve only been there one time when he had to grab something, but you definitely remembered it. 
Storming up the stairs in a fit of rage, ready to lay it into Matt that what he did was so wrong. You knock on his door 3 times. “Matt, I really need to talk to you.” He doesn’t see any light on inside and can’t hear anything, but you knock three more times. “Matt, if you’re in there, don’t ignore me again.” 
You sit outside for 5 more minutes before you get impatient. Pulling out your phone, you fish for his contact. Ring, ring, ring. “Y/n? What happened?” He sounds nervous. “Matt, I’m outside of your apartment. I’m guessing you’re not home.” Your voice now filled with embarrassment. You hear a sigh on the other side of the phone. “Oh, y/n, I’m outside of your aapartment. Ive been here almost two hours.” 
You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation fully hitting you. “I’m sorry for the other day, y/n. I shouldn’t have left you like that. I-I was just scared and hearing you cry like that…” He trails off, cutting off your laugh. 
“Matt, I came here to yell at you. These past few days, I’ve just been upset and angry. I thought you hated me.” Your back is against his door, waiting for him to respond. “I can’t do this over the phone anymore. Let’s meet in the middle. Okay?” He’s more forward than he usually is, but his voice is still nervous. 
“‘Kay, see you soon!” 
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・  
The sun was already setting when you got there. The short 10-minute walk felt like hours this time. That’s when you see him, standing there looking around, slightly wilted flowers in his left hand, his right hand on the back of his neck. You stand there for a second before going up to him. When he turns to see you, he looks relieved, like he thought you weren’t going to be there. 
“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I was such an ass. You didn’t deserve that. I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but I at least had to try. I’ve never done this before—“ Your arms warm around his neck, cutting his rambling off. You pull away, cupping his face. “You’re—“ before he could speak, you cut him off again, kissing him this time, taking in the moment. 
As you two deepen the kiss, somewhere in between, your bag falls to the floor, and soon after, the flowers. Through the haze of the kiss, you hear various “Go get him”s and whistles from people passing by. You two eventually pull away from each other, catching your breath. 
“You dropped this. Also, I got you these.” He hands you your bag and now semi-crushed and wilted flowers. “I had this whole thing planned where you would come home, and I would talk to you. But that clearly didn’t work out.” He smiles, a slight blush coming onto his cheeks. 
“Matt, don’t worry about it. Just don’t do that again, or I swear.” You become stern before you start laughing. “You want to get something to eat?” You turn to ask him, his face looking disappointed. “I was just gonna ask you that,” he complains, moving his arm to pull you in by your shoulder. 
“Oh, you’re lucky. I’m giving you another chance.” You lean into him, giggling and walking down the street, looking off into the sunset. 
“Trust me, I’m the luckiest man in the world.” 
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:·  
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a/n; hope yall enjoyed!!!! This took me so long to write bc i had HORRID writers block. Go read some of my other stuff okay bye byebye
more scienceteacher!matt x musicteacher!reader here!!
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gaymingwriter · 3 months ago
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Halloween With the Egos
(Well, some of them)
This isn’t my entire list of characters I write, but they’re some of my favorites and I’m writing this on the 30th so I don’t have time to write all of them. This is a headcanon list like my Valentine’s Day thing was
I’m trying to get back into writing, so I hope y’all like it
Characters in Order: Darkiplier, Damien, Googleplier, Date Mark, Illinois, Eric Derekson, Yancy, Jameson Jackson
Warnings: One part of Illinois’s is slightly suggestive
Reader is intended to be gender neutral and these headcanons are romantic (with a pre-established relationship). I wrote part of this while sleepy
Darkiplier
- He refuses to dress up
- …he’ll wear little devil horns or something else small if it makes you happy, though
- He’d probably prefer to take you to a fancy Halloween party, but if you wouldn’t like that, he’ll respect it
- If you go to a party, he stays by your side all night
- If you stay home, he’ll either make dinner or order takeout and watch some Halloween movies with you
- He likes horror movies (partially because you hold onto him if you get scared, but he won’t admit it out loud)
- He doesn’t mind at all if you dress up for Halloween. You look dashing and/or lovely and/or cute in your costume, so he certainly isn’t complaining
- Both of you head to bed fairly late
- Overall, a lovely night regardless of what y’all do
Damien
- Similarly to Dark, he’d also prefer to take you to a party. But he’s happy regardless of if you stay home or go to a party
- He’d love to do a couples costume!
- He likes the idea of a sun and moon couples costume. Regardless of which of you is the sun or moon, he thinks it’s fitting
- If y’all do go to a party, he stays with you the whole time. He wants to make sure you’re comfortable
- If y’all stay home, he helps you hand out candy to trick-or-treaters and orders delivery for dinner
- After the trick-or-treaters are all gone, Damien suggests spending the rest of the night watching movies
- Y’all end up sleeping on the couch all cuddled up
Google
- Doesn’t quite understand Halloween at first, but he does get that you find it fun
- He is willing to wear a costume, as long as it isn’t too silly
- You could probably convince him to do a vampire couple’s costume (though he may buffer for a moment, you do look very handsome and/or beautiful in your vampire costume after all)
- He’s content with staying home and handing out candy to any trick-or-treaters with you
- Afterwards, you can watch movies together and order takeout
- You fall asleep with him holding you on the couch
- Google likes Halloween now
Date Mark
- He suggests a couples costume before you October even starts
- He finds the most cheesy and sappy costumes ever
- Wants to be peanut butter and jelly because “we go together perfectly, just like peanut butter and jelly! <3”. This man is just too adorable sometimes
- You agree, much to his delight
- He halfway wants to make it a date night, but you remind him that there’ll be trick-or-treaters showing up
- He settles for takeout and candles on the table
- When you do start giving out candy, he gets some fold-up chairs so you two can sit close together without being on the ground
- After that, you watch a movie (he found a Halloween romance movie, and really wanted to watch it with you)
- Y’all fall asleep holding each other
Illinois
- He practically begs you to do an Indiana Jones related couples costume
- You agree and find a character you like to dress up as
- Illinois would love it if you dressed as a love interest (a genderbent version is completely fine with him if you’d prefer that of course), but he really won’t complain either way
- He does joke that you could always wear less clothes, but he shuts up when you playfully pull his hat down over his eyes
- He makes you dinner before the trick-or-treaters start showing up
- You make some cookies for the both of you
- After an hour or so of handing out candy, y’all leave a bowl of candy out so you can go back inside and watch movies
- After you bring the bowl in, y’all head to bed
Eric
- He would absolutely love to do a couples costume with you, but he’s a little shy bringing it up
- He gets much less shy when you tell him that you’d like to do a couples costume with him
- The two of you pick angel and devil costumes (him being the angel, of course)
- Y’all both have a lot of fun planning the night
- Eric makes some Halloween cookies, and you make dinner
- Y’all pass out candy to trick-or-treaters for a couple hours, before retiring to the living room
- As cute as falling asleep together in the living room would be, both of you agree that your room is more comfortable
- Y’all fall asleep to a campy and fun Halloween movie in there
Yancy
- So, he’s out on parole. He hasn’t had a normal Halloween since he was a kid
- Jokingly, one of you suggested that you two dress as prisoners for Halloween
- …at some point, it stopped being a joke
- He took a couple of his old prison uniforms and let you try them on
- If they’re too big or the right size, you use it as your costume. If it’s too small, you find some very similar clothes to wear
- Regardless, Yancy thinks you look adorable and/or pretty and/or handsome in his clothes. He does understand if you’d prefer clothes in your own size if his isn’t right, though
- Tonight, his tattoos on his knuckles say “Bats” and “Dark”
- (They just change somehow, neither of you really question it. You assume there aren’t many four letter Halloween related words)
- You order delivery for dinner
- Yancy had a lot of fun handing out candy to trick-or-treaters for the first time
- Y’all spend the rest of the night watching Halloween movies together <3
Jameson
- Poor Jameson has a love/hate relationship with Halloween
- He loves the holiday itself, but his run-ins with Anti all those years ago has made him a bit cautious
- You reassure him that everything will be okay, and that the two of you don’t need to do anything big
- Y’all find some 1920s style costumes and modern clothes so the two of you can do an “outfit swap” of sorts
- (Hell, if your clothes are the right size, y’all might as well just swap actual clothes. You’ll both probably get flustered seeing each other in your clothes, though)
- He had also crocheted some little Halloween related plushies, teaching you a little if you don’t already crochet
- He carved a small pumpkin with you. He really does love carving pumpkins, but he’s been cautious since that Halloween that Anti took control of him
- You’re very proud of him <3
- Y’all spend that night handing out candy to trick-or-treaters and relaxing at home until you fall asleep
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maybeicanbesaved · 3 months ago
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got into yet another fight with my mom, again about voting/the election, she said that she’s only voted once in her life and never cares to again because she ‘doesn’t care about politics’, saying that shit almost proudly?? and it set me off for obvious reasons, then she got mad at me for saying it’s because she’s privileged and ‘most’ shit doesn’t affect her directly so she can afford ‘not to care’
#i’m so tired man#yeah because you’re a cis straight white woman#but what about your queer child?#what about other lgbtq+ people? you say you support them/us but apparently not enough if you don’t care to vote#and then she started on about how kamala is just as bad if not worse#bc she’s an easily influenced boomer and listens to other dumbfuck boomers#plus the internalized misogyny#i just can’t yall#i know some have it worse with their parent/family member being full on pro trump but this#is just so fucking frustrating#not to mention my bitch sister who within the past couple years moved to the midwest with her abusive bf & got knocked up twice#is suddenly loudly pro trump#the same woman who a mere handful of years ago was about to marry her trans girlfriend (whom she also dated before they realized they#were trans!!)#the same woman who has dated girls multiple times#and had more than a few abortions#like just because you now have two children and no longer interested in having abortions no women should have them?? fucking hypocrite#she just disgusts me#like did he beat the brain cells out of you or did all the heroin you used to do kill them#i’m sorry im just so fucking angry with her like i didn’t think i could get more pissed/upset with her#after she ‘indirectly’ killed my cats#which i will never ever forgive her for#but this is just extra on top#legit no longer acknowledge her as my sister - i now only have one vs the two i was raised with idfc im better off#i’m just tired#and it’s not even an ‘election time’ thing this is just … never gonna end/change huh#personal#tdl#vent
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itneverendshere · 3 months ago
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four
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The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.
It had been a long month.
Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.
But this time was different.
This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.
Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.
You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing
You weren’t stupid.
You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.
You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.
But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.
"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.
You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.
You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.
“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.
What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.
“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.
“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”
You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.
“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.
You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.
And then you heard hers. No fucking way.
You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.
She was there, with him.
You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.
There they were.
She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.
"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"
You froze.
He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.
You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?
Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.
It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.
That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.
After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?
Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.
What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.
But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.
Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.
“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.
Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"
You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”
He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”
You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”
You hated saying her name.
Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.
Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.
“Did everyone fucking know?”
Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”
Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.
You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”
He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”
But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.
With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.
Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”
That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.
You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.
You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.
He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.
The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.
A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.
How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?
Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?
All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."
You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.
But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.
And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.
“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?
But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.
Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.
You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.
Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.
You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.
"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."
The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.
But then…
You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.
Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.
You hadn’t had your period in… so long.
Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.
You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."
How could you not have noticed?
Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"
You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.
You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.
“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.
He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.
Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.
"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.
You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”
He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.
You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."
The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.
Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.
You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.
Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.
You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.
You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.
“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.
You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”
“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”
Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.
You just needed to get out of here.
“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”
His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”
Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.
And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.
Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.
While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.
You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.
The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.
“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.
You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.
“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.
You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.
The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.
You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.
The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.
You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.
The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?
You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.
You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.
You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.
You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.
Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?
Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?
It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.
You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.
The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.
Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.
“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”
The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.
Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.
You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.
This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.
You were tired.
Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.
Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.
Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.
Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.
All of this would go away.
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TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb
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@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei
@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols
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simjaexy · 1 month ago
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𝙄 𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 | 𝙎.𝙅.
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Pairing — Virgin! Sim Jaeyun x Experienced! (F) Reader
Synopsis — Sim Jaeyun had a normal life. He was just a regular guy that worked in a small cafe and made coffee for customers. What he didn’t think was normal though, was that he was a virgin at the age of 22. Embarrassing enough, he never jerked off. Ever. Why you ask? Well, because he didn’t know how to. He watched porn videos from time to time, but never acted upon himself to jerk off. So what happens when he sees you enter the cafe for the first time and is in struck? Will he act upon to ask you out? Or will he scurry away like a puppy because he’s a virgin?
Genre — Crack, Smut, Angst
Warnings — MINORS DNI!!!, Jay and Sunghoon are Jake’s BFFS (saying this as a warning bc they are chaotic asf), Cursing, Reader is big money rich, Arguments, Name calling (Idiot and etc.), Switch! Jake (mostly sub), Jake is a somewhat pervert & awkward mess, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Loss of virginity, Making out, Jake has a big dick, Jake is bad at sex (but it’s ok bc reader helps him <3), Receiving (m&f), Sex (Unprotected, Sloppy, Rough, Cloth), Jerking off, Cum swallowing, Humiliation, Grinding, Eating out, Jake is a pussy drunk, Multiple orgasms, Crying, Hickeys, lmk if i miss anymore!
Wc — 10.7k
A/n — I spell experiment & experience wrong so bear with me. Anyways, happy to say I’m back to making fics! U could kind of tell I gave up on some parts so sorry abt that :/ I also wanted to make it longer BUT oh well (might be a part 2 but who knows)! I hope u guys like this one <3 It was kind of shitty since I had no idea what I was going for but it was worth a shot. If u would like to be on the perm taglist click here! Like, Reblog, Comment, etc.! Not proofread!
masterlist here
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“How do people like extra bitter coffee?”
Sunghoon questioned with a cup of bitter coffee in his hand, holding it close to his face to examine it. Jake, on the other hand, was wiping down the dirty counter. The morning was in full business, and the only thing heard in the cafe was the chatter of customers and the espresso machine. Jake chuckled at Sunghoons comment. He always judged what people ordered and the funny thing is, Sunghoon didn’t like coffee at all. He only applied to work at a cafe was because Jake didn’t wanna be alone. What also came as a moment was when Jay also offered to work too.
He glanced at the next order slip and began preparing a caramel macchiato, his hands moving with ease. They haven’t been working here for a long time, just a few months. They get paid pretty well so Jake really didn’t have nothing to complain about other than the shitty customers that would come around to argue with them. Sunghoon would usually escort them out because Jay would pick a fight. Jake finished the coffee and went up to the front, "Caramel macchiato for Sarah!" Jake called out, placing the drink on the counter. A young woman stepped forward with a grateful smile, taking the coffee from his hands and offering a shy ‘Thank you’. Jake returned the smile before turning back to the next order.
As he made the next coffee, Sunghoon leaned against the counter, letting out a long sigh, "I'm tired already, and it's only been four hours," Sunghoon muttered, rubbing his eyes. Jake watched Sunghoon, noticing the growing eyebags, but didn’t notice them until now in the bright lights. Sunghoons been working overtime lately due to his girlfriend and him recently having a fight. It wasn’t the first one they had, but clearly this was one of the worst ones. That’s what Jake also didn’t like. Fights in relationships.
Jake chuckled softly although he knew Sunghoon was having trouble. The only thing you can do is just comfort, "Don't worry about it. We're almost done. Just a little longer."
Sunghoon groaned, looking at the clock on the wall. The time is ticking slow and dreadful, "I hope so. I can't wait to go home and sleep.”
Jake laughed, shaking his head as he poured steamed milk into a cup, "You'll make it. Just think about that comfy bed waiting for you."
Sunghoon frowned, pushing himself off the counter. "Yeah, that sounds good right about now." He spoke sarcastically.
The two continued their work despite the exhaustion they were both feeling. It was a bit more bearable with having a coworker like Sunghoon by his side. They would joke around about anything together, along with Jay. Speak of the devil, the door to the back room swung open, and there behold Jay with a wide grin on his face.
"Fucking finally!" Jay said, his excitement palpable. "I've been texting back and forth with this girl all morning. She's planning something special for tonight. I bet I’m gonna get laid.”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, "This is like, what? The fifth girl you’ve talked too?Some of us are just trying to survive the day here. And what do you mean all morning? Have you’ve been doing your job?” Sunghoon ranted.
Jay raised his hands up, “It’s not my fault I haven’t had sex in a while. Besides, the last girl I had sex with didn’t want me wearing a condom! I ran out of there before she could say anything else.” He replied.
Sunghoon said something back, but Jake stayed quiet, zoning out. This is when he often felt out of place. He admired Jay's conversation about girls and sex, but couldn't quite relate to it. Sure he had a fair share of doing little dates with some chicks, but each time it always ended up with one of them saying they wanna have sex, which Jake didn’t want at the moment. They would then get mad and upset but can you really blame him?
Jay, oblivious to Sunghoon's irritation, continued, "Seriously, you guys should find someone to fuck. It makes everything so much better. Like, even this job feels less tiring when I know I have something to look forward to later at night."
Sunghoon sighed, shaking his head, "Yeah, yeah, Jay. We get it. You're a horny man. Now, can we please focus on getting through this shift?"
Jay rolled his eyes and scoffed, grabbing an apron, tying it around his waist, "Alright, alright. But seriously, you guys should think about it."
The three of them resumed making coffee and taking orders from customers. Despite the differences in their personalities, Jake thought they worked well together, each bringing something unique to the team. As the last customer left the cafe, the three of them let out a drawn sigh in unison.
Sunghoon stretched his back and let out a noise in satisfaction, “Finally, we can go home.” He hummed. Jake agreed, taking off the apron and hanging it on the hanger.
Jay did the same, “Well I’ll see you guys on Monday then. Boutta get some head.” He said. Sunghoon groaned in disgust.
Jay left while Jake and Sunghoon tidied up the place for the next workers tomorrow. After they finished they stepped out of the cafe with Sunghoon locking the door. The sun was already slowly setting, they should be getting paid for working overtime at this hour. Not many of the employees do.
“I’ll see you Monday?” Sunghoon asked. Jake nodded and smiled. They bid each other goodbye and headed in different directions.
Jake walked along the familiar path from the cafe to his apartment, the weight of the day bearing down on his shoulders. He wished he had a girl to go home too like Sunghoon. He could just imagine seeing her laying on the couch or watching TV in the living room. The closer he got to his apartment, the more the loneliness seeped into his bones. He really did wish for someone, anyone, to be there, but there was no one. Just him and the four walls that enclosed his existence. Finally, he reached his building. He took out his keys as he came face to face with his door and opened it with a click. He entered his apartment, closing the door behind him with a sigh. The silence not making anything better.
He took off his shoes, setting them on a rack near his door and headed straight to his bedroom. Changing into more comfortable clothing, he felt a slight sense of relief, though it did little to lift the heavy feeling in his chest. Deciding to stay distracted, he made his way to his laptop at his desk. He grabbed it and sat comfortably in his bed. He opened his laptop and went on Google, searching pornhub.com. There popped up different websites of porn, and yet none seemed to take his interest. He scrolled through all of them and decided to click on a random one.
Different videos of men and women having sex popped up. He scanned through the tags — missionary, pretzel, doggy style, milfs, young teen, it could go on. He clicked on one that seemed interesting.
Young teen girl getting pussy pounded by Dilf Dad- Very Hot!
Jake watches as the girl was sitting comfortably on a pink bedsheet. Collages of drawings in the background on the white wall. She was wearing a little skirt that showed her whole silk panties. Her hair was in a slick back bun. To Jake, she looked like an innocent girl. Then a man comes into view and faces the girl as she looks up. Jake couldn’t see everything, but he could see the Dad rubbing on the girl's cheek smoothly. She dipped her head closer to his palm, almost as if she was savoring it. Jake didn’t know what else happened before it cut to a scene where the girl was a moaning mess as the Dad fucks her roughly. He pulled her hair making her back arch like a bow. She let out sinful moans and pants leaving Jake wide eyed and wanting to hear more.
He hissed when he felt his computer rub along his now hard cloth dick. He lifted it up and saw his strained sweatpants. He groaned and set his laptop on the side of him and rubbed his dick awkwardly. Fuck, he really doesn’t know what to do. He let in a pitiful whine when he gripped and squeezed it. Just as he was gonna take his dick out of his sweatpants, his phone started ringing with a vibrating sound. He jumped. Who could be calling at this hour? With a sigh, he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his phone. The screen illuminated the room just enough for him to see the caller ID. It was his boss. Jake's heart sank. He had a bad feeling about this call.
"Hello?" He answered, trying to sound as normal as possible.
"Jake, it's me," His boss's voice came through the line, sounding business-like as ever, “Would it be alright if you come into work tomorrow?"
Jake mentally groaned. He had been looking forward to his day off, to catch up on sleep and maybe even relax a little. But he knew he couldn't say no to him, besides, maybe he could get more pay, "Sure, I can do that," He replied, trying to sound more professional than he felt. He hated how good he did.
"Good," His boss said, a hint of relief in his voice, "I'll pay you extra for the trouble. See you in the morning." And with that, the line went dead.
Jake stared at his phone for a moment, feeling frustrated and dry. He tossed the phone back onto the nightstand and let out a long sigh. His day off had just been snatched away, and the prospect of another grueling day at work now loomed in his mind. He was getting extra pay, so it wasn’t that bad. He looked over at his laptop and noticed the video was over. He scoffed and slammed it shut. He turned over in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, and closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly and give him a brief respite from being interrupted from his sexual time.
Jake's alarm blared at 6 AM, jarring him from a restless sleep. He groggily reached over to silence it, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He remembered the late-night call from his boss, and the reality of another workday settled over him like his heavy blanket. He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He turned the nob as hot water poured out. Taking off his clothes- he entered and groaned feeling his muscle ache. After he finished, he dressed in a comfy outfit. He glanced at the clock and saw the time. With a sigh, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
When Jake arrived at work, he walked through the front counter, nodding at a few of his coworkers as he passed. He wasn’t used to not having Jay and Sunghoon by his side. That’s when he is usually somewhat quiet, but still talks enough for people to know who he is.
"Morning, Jake," One of them called out. He responded with a polite nod and a "Good morning" before continuing on his way.
As he approached his workstation, he saw Seulri, a coworker who had always been talkative towards him, "Hi, Jake!" She said brightly, her eyes lighting up as she saw him.
"Hey, Seulri," Jake replied, forcing a smile. He liked Seulri, she was a girl that he felt like he could talk to anything about. But he knew she had a crush on him, and he just didn't feel the same way.
"I was wondering what you were doing today after work?" She asked, her tone hopeful.
Jake hesitated, searching for an excuse. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he also didn't want to lead her on, “Uh, I've got a lot on my plate today," He said, trying to sound convincing, "I gotta close the shop for the night." It wasn’t whole lie. He did have to close the cafe around night.
Seulri's face fell slightly, but she quickly masked her disappointment with a smile. "Oh, okay. Well, if you need any help, just let me know."
"Thanks, Seulri. I appreciate it," Jake said, feeling a pang of guilt. He watched as she walked away, her shoulders slumped just a bit.
With a heavy guilt, Jake turned to work on a order. He knew he could’ve had a chance to finally get into a relationship, but he wanted someone to know him for him. Not just some person that wants to satisfy him like Seulri. Jay and Sunghoon kept telling him to just fuck it and have sex with her for the hell of it, but clearly they don’t understand what Jake’s wants. What he needs. Jake mentally cursed at himself and focused back on working. He wasn’t gonna think about, at least not for today.
It was around midnight when Jake was wiping down the tables and stacking the chairs. He liked these types of nights where he could just feel the need to relax with nothing on his mind. He was the only one left for the night, his coworkers having left hours ago. With a sigh, he sat down on an open chair behind the front counter. Deciding to take a break, he opened his phone and checked through his messages. He took sight of the group chat he had with Jay and Sunghoon called ‘The 02zzzz’ and opened it.
Sunghoon: [Link]
Sunghoon: You guys gotta check this out.
Jay: Wow, that’s hot.
Sunghoon: Ikr
Jake eyebrows furrowed before clicking the link. The link took him to safari and there popped up a video. Jake could already tell it was a porn video just from the looks of it. He clicked play and almost immediately it showed a girl sucking a guys dick hungrily. Jay was definitely not wrong, it was fucking hot. How the hell does Sunghoon find these videos? Jake liked the message and shut his phone off. Just then the bell let out a ‘ding’ upon someone coming in. Jake mentally groaned and got up from the sturdy chair, pushing it to the side. He rolled his sleeves as he stared up and that’s when he felt the air get knocked out his lungs. There standing in front of him was a beautiful girl that looked about in her 20’s. Jake felt his mouth going dry from staring. She was beautiful.. and hot. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and gave Jake a sweet smile. Yeah, he was done for.
“Hi! I hope your not closing soon,” She spoke, her voice sound as pretty as her face, “I just wanted a black coffee if that’s fine.”
Jake blinked once, twice before nodding slow. He shook his head. Get your ass together! He already felt like he was embarrassing himself enough by just staring at her. Wait, was his eyes averting to her tits?
“Oh! Yeah sure no problem, that’ll be $3.75.” He replied. The girl sighed in relief and pulled out her wallet, Jake wondered if she had been going all around town looking for an open coffee shop. Then again, he wasn’t particularly open either.
She extended her hand out with money which Jake took, he felt himself shiver when he felt her soft hands touch his. They were soft and smooth, almost as if she putted lotion before coming in here. Jake opened the cashier register and gave back a few change, “It’ll be done shortly.” He smiled. She nodded and went to take a seat not far from him.
He started measuring out the perfect amount of water, tamping it down with just the right amount of pressure, and locking the portafilter into the machine. As the hot water began to flow through the grounds, he glanced up back at the girl. She was rummaging through her bag, pulling out a laptop, a stack of papers, and a planner. Was she staying for a long time? Jake averted his eyes to the time. It wasn’t that late, but he is gonna be closing soon. He turned back towards her and as he watched her work, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, a sign of sleepless nights and long hours. It reminded him of Sunghoons. Her outfit was sharp and professional, a tailored blazer over a crisp blouse, paired with sleek trousers. As he steamed the milk, he felt his phone vibrate from his back pocket. Must be Jay and Sunghoon. He grabbed his phone and checked curiously.
Jay: Fuck guys, I just had the best sex ever
Sunghoon: Tf? We don’t wanna know that
Sunghoon: … Was it good?
Jay: The fucking best, she was definitely experienced
Sunghoon: Damn, now I wanna fuck my girl
Jay: No one stopping you
Sunghoon: Yeah, she is. Still mad at me.
Jay: Must suck
Sunghoon: Everyday
Jake putted his phone away when he the machine stopped indicating it was done. He took the coffee out and poured it into a cup. He put a plastic top over it before setting it down on the counter. The girl noticed and got up to grab it. Maybe this could be the chance to talk to someone, “Rough day?" Jake asked.
The girl stared up at him surprised before chuckling softly. Jesus, even her laugh was pretty, “You could say that.”
Jake hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you perhaps a businesswoman?"
She nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. She let out a relaxed hum. Jake felt himself smiling before she stared at him, “Yes, I am. How did you guess?"
Jake shrugged, trying to play it cool. He wondered if he’s doing a good job at it, "Just a hunch. You look like someone who works hard and could use a good cup of coffee."
She laughed softly, it sounded like music to his ears, “You have no idea. This is exactly what I needed. Thank you."
As she went back to her seat with her unfinished work, Jake couldn’t help but feel his heart swell. They barely spoke and yet Jake already felt a connection. Is this what love at first sight feels like? Cause if it is then sign him the fuck up. He wants to feel that all the time. He watched her eyebrows furrow while looking at a few papers before flipping to the next ones. Maybe if he actually had some balls he could distract her and make her feel better about whatever she was stressing about. But what if she doesn’t want to be distracted?
Jake mentally groaned at himself, he really is bad at this. He mind as well just tell her he’s closing since it’s already been a few minutes. As he was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice a little someone coming up to the counter, “Excuse me,” Her voice said. Jake whipped his head up and mustered up a nice smile. Shit, did she catch him thinking? She took out her wallet and pulled out around $20. Jake frowned and stared up at her.
“For letting me stay here even though you’re closing.” She spoke, “I noticed when I walked in you guys were supposed to close about five minutes ago.”
Jake nodded and stared back down at the money. Damn it was a lot. And with the extra pay coming to his check? He could go out drinking with the guys, but then again she didn’t need to give him money, “It’s no worries. Keep it.” He smiled.
She frowned, “Well now you’re making me feel bad. You’re working overtime because of me.”
“I was working overtime either way. I’m a slow cleaner.” Jake responded. He wasn’t really lying. She slowly nodded and put her money back in her wallet. Louis Vuitton wallet. Oh, she’s rich rich.
“Well, is there anything I can pay you back aside from money then?” She spoke. Her voice laced with concern. Jake gulped. This was his chance to hit it with a ‘a date would be nice’, but clearly she doesn’t look interested in him, right? Jake felt his heart pacing with each thought. Fuck it.
“M-Maybe a date.” He blurted out. Fucking. Stupid. Voice. Did he really just stutter? The girl blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the sudden sentence. Yeah, Jake was definitely gonna dig himself in a hole. He was gonna take back what he said until a little giggle was heard from the girl.
“I didn’t expect that, but sure. Why not?” She chimed. Jake felt himself freeze in place. She said yes. She said yes? She said yes! Jake felt like punching the air in victory but kept his composure.
“Really? Wow- I mean- That’s cool. Cool.” He replied. She laughed making Jake feel even more embarrassed. Has he always been this awkward? He wouldn’t be surprised if she changed her mind.
“ Well if we’re going on a date, you have to give me your number first." She said. Her smile never dropping. Jake's eyes widened in surprise. Right. How could he forget? He fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking slightly. He awkwardly handed it to you, unable to find his voice. You took it, entered your number, and handed it back.
"Text me," She said softly, "and we'll set something up."
"Okay," he managed to say, his voice filled with a mix of relief and excitement.
She went back to the table and gathered her stuff and walked out of the café. As she glanced back, Jake couldn’t help but feel his heart pang out of his chest. He can’t believe he picked up a beautiful girl all because he had the balls to do it. She gave him a wink, and that’s when she disappeared as she walked out of his view. Jake probably looked like an idiot, but he probably looked more of an idiot when he immediately took out his phone and checked her information.
L/n Y/n. That’s your name. Jake felt himself smiling at his phone like a weirdo. He has to tell the guys this. He typed the group chat name and clicked it.
Jake: You guys won’t believe what just fucking happened.
Sunghoon: You finally made matcha?
Jake: Even better, I asked a girl out and she’s fucking hot.
Jay: No way dude. I told you you can do it!
Jake: Jesus christ I’m scared. What if she thinks I’m weird for being a virgin at this age?
Sunghoon: Shit
Jay: Fuck
Jay: I completely forgot you’re a virgin.
Jake: Yeah I’m fucked.
To say the least, it wasn’t really Jake’s fault for not texting you at all for the past two days. What if you were waiting for him to text? You most likely were, but Jake felt like a complete idiot for even thinking you weren’t. Jay and Sunghoon tried to help out with texting you, as in saying ‘hey how about we just go on that date and see where it goes? No sex!’ but clearly that wasn’t gonna do any better. That’s also what you most likely wanted too. And Jay and Sunghoon know Jake would happily comply without saying he’s a virgin. To what Jay said, virgins are the last thing girls want to have sex with. They like experienced men. Men that would actually blow their back out. And yet, Jake wasn’t like that at all. He was a guy who never jerked off before and most likely never will.
“Dude you’re fucking fried if you don’t say anything soon.” Sunghoon said. It was already the afternoon when Sunghoon decided to break the silence with Jake’s situationship. Jake groaned and put his face in his hands.
“I don’t blame her if she’s probably getting pussy pounded by another dude by now.” Jay added. Sunghoon elbowed him. Jake glared at him even though he wasn’t really wrong.
“I don’t know. What if I just cancel it?” Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair. "What if I mess up- well I already did. What if she doesn't like me?"
Jay shook his head firmly, “No way, Jake. This is your chance to show her who you really are. You can't back out now. Who cares if you’re a virgin? I know I said they like experienced men- which is not a lie, but hey, maybe she likes inexperienced guys?”
Sunghoon nodded in agreement, "Jay's right. But if you really don't want to go, you don't have to force yourself. Just be honest with her."
Jake sighed, clearly torn. They both weren’t wrong. Maybe he’s just overthinking it. Maybe you did like inexperienced guys, "I just don't know what to do."
Jay patted Jake’s shoulder firmly, “Dude, just try.” He said. And when Sunghoon gave him a firm look, Jake knew himself what he was gonna do.
It was a lot harder than expected. He was debating whether you’re a caller or a texter. Would it be weird to randomly call you instead? Fuck, but to hear your voice would be amazing. So that’s exactly what Jake did. He typed in your name and clicked on it. His finger hovered over the ‘call’ button. He took a deep breath before clicking it. The line was silent for a few seconds before you answered.
“Hello?” You questioned. Jake suddenly felt the words he was gonna say disappear. You said it again as Jake shook his head.
“H-Hi! This is Y/n?” He stirred. He mentally slapped himself for asking an obvious question. A light giggle came from the other side.
“This is. Is this the barista I gave my number too?” You joked. If it weren’t for your pretty voice Jake would be assuming you were making fun of him.
“Yeah, it’s Jake.” He mumbled. You hummed against the line making him shiver.
“Didn’t expect you to call. I’m glad you did though.” You let out a breathy laugh. Jake nodded his head as if you could see him, “Well, did you wanna talk about the date?”
“Yeah, I did. I was wondering if you wanna go tomorrow? I’ll pick you up.” He said. He could practically feel his heart beating out of his chest when you were silent.
“Okay. Tomorrow it is!” You agreed. He let out a sigh of relief. It was perfect.
“Okay, see you then!” He replied. You gave a small ‘bye’ before hanging up. Jake tossed his phone on the bed and smiled. He was not gonna fuck this up.
Maybe he was. It wasn’t even a minute when Jay busted through his apartment door at nine in the morning with a tired Sunghoon by his side. Apparently when Jake goes on dates it’s a routine to help him with his clothes. He watched as Jay scanned through his clothing in his messy closet while Sunghoon was sleeping on his bed. Jake doesn’t remember telling them they can just do this.
“We definitely need to go shopping after your date.” Jay mumbled, but Jake heard the whole thing.
“Let’s not talk about your style old grandpa.” Jake scoffed. He rolled his eyes when Jay ignored him by sliding the hangers louder. He stared over at Sunghoon sound asleep, “Why did you even bring Sunghoon along?”
Jay stopped sliding the hangers and turned around, letting out a deep sigh, “He wanted to come. Him and his girlfriend are still fighting.”
Jake eyebrows furrowed. Seriously, it was getting out of hand. Is he seriously get no night rest with her? Jake tucked the blanket up to Sunghoon chest who let out a little snore. Jay was staring pitifully. It was quiet for a few seconds, not one of them talking until Jake’s phone started ringing.
“Bro, why is your phone ringing? Aren’t you going to answer?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow. Jake glanced at the screen, and his heart did a flip when he saw your name. He scrambled to sit up, muttering, “Oh my god,” before frantically swiping to answer the call. Jay watched the whole chaos unfold.
“Hello?!” Jake practically screamed into the phone, his voice cracking slightly. Jay gave him a look that was equal parts amused and disappointed, mouthing, ‘chill dude’. Jake gulped harshly waiting for you to say something.
“Uh… hey,” You said on the other end, sounding slightly startled by his volume, “Just wondering… when are you gonna pick me up?”
Jake slapped a hand over his forehead, realizing he hadn’t even started getting ready yet. This was Jays fault, “Oh! Uh, soon! I just—I need to, um, get dressed real quick.”
There was a pause, and then your soft laugh, “Okay. Just let me know when you’re on your way, and I’ll text you the address.”
“Cool, cool,” Jake stammered, nodding furiously even though you couldn’t see him, “I’ll—I’ll let you know. Yeah.”
As soon as he hung up, Jay let out a sigh and leaned back on the closet door, shaking his head, “Man, that was painful to watch.”
Jake shot him a glare, “What? I answered, didn’t I?”
“Barely. You sounded like you just found out you won the lottery or something,” Jay teased, “Get it together, Romeo.”
Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. He needs to practice to not look like a complete weirdo towards you. It’s more embarrassing knowing that one of his friends watched the whole thing, “Shut up. I need to figure out what I’m wearing.”
Jay watched as Jake sprinted towards his closet, muttering to himself about shirts and jackets, “This is why you’re single, dude,” Jay spoke. He heard Jake letting out a little protest but saying nothing else.
His phone let out a ‘ping!’ and as he snatched it off the bed he saw you send your address. You don’t live too far which is a good thing. Jake liked the message before he felt a heavy feeling on his back. He rolled over to feel a clothes on his back.
“Wear that. It’s better than nothing.” Jay spoke. Jake grabbed the clothing and scanned them. A slim fit blue cotton sweater with black pants. Surprisingly it didn’t look like bad outfit. Jake didn’t say anything else when he headed to the bathroom to change into it.
Jake emerged from the bathroom, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he stepped into his room, “Alright,” He announced, standing in front of Jay with an expectant look, “What do you think?”
Jay, who had been scrolling through his phone, glanced up—and then did a double take. He raised his eyebrows. It was definitely a nice outfit. Made by Jay obviously.
“Huh,” Jay said, a smirk creeping onto his face, “I’m surprised.”
Jake blinked, “Surprised?”
“Yeah,” Jay replied, sitting back on the bed, “Surprised it actually looks good. But then again, not surprised. I’m a genius when it comes to this stuff.”
Jake rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips, “Right. Thanks for your expert opinion,” He muttered, heading toward his closet to grab a pair of matching shoes.
Jay watched as Jake slipped them on, tying the laces with a focused expression, “You nervous or something?”
“No,” Jake lied quickly, straightening up and brushing his hands over his pants, “I think I’m ready.”
“Hold up,” Jay said, getting up and rummaging through a small drawer by the TV. A second later, he tossed something at Jake.
Jake caught it, frowning as he realized it was a pair of glasses, “What’s this for?”
Jay shrugged, “They’ll pull the whole look together. Trust me.”
Jake hesitated, then slid the glasses on. He turned toward the mirror near the door, adjusting them as he took in his reflection, “… Okay, not bad,” he admitted.
“Not bad?” Jay scoffed, “You look like you just stepped out of a catalog. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Jake laughed under his breath, he couldn’t be more grateful for Jay at these times. He grabbed his keys from the counter, “Alright, I’m heading out. Are you guys gonna be staying by the time I get back?”
Jay gave him a mock salute, leaning back on the bed again, “Good luck, lover boy. And no, most likely not, I’ll wake Sunghoon up soon and maybe get him breakfast.”
Jake shot him a grin. He shook his head, stepping out the door and heading toward his car, his heart pounding a little harder than he’d like to admit. Once he started the car he went right to your house. Jake drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at the GPS on his phone as he followed the directions to your house. The drive had been quiet, save for the faint hum of his playlist in the background, but as he turned into your neighborhood, he couldn’t help but sit up straighter.
The houses here were massive.
Each one seemed more impressive than the last—pristine lawns, tall gates, sleek cars in driveways. Jake felt his brows furrow as he passed by what looked like a mansion with marble columns. If you were this rich, why would agree to go on a date with someone like him? You could practically be dating millionaires! It kind of reminded him of Jays house. Jays house 0.2?
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, double-checking the address you’d sent him. When he finally reached your house, he froze, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Your house was huge, the kind of place he’d only seen in movies. The front yard alone was immaculate, with perfectly trimmed hedges and a fountain in the center of the driveway.
He pulled his car up to the curb, feeling suddenly out of place in his old but reliable sedan. He sat there for a moment, staring up at the house in awe before shaking his head. Jake grabbed his phone and called you, his palms a little sweaty for reasons he couldn’t explain.
“Hey,” he said when you picked up, “Uh, I’m here.”
“Okay, I’ll be out in a second,” You replied, your voice soft and calm.
Jake hung up, taking a deep breath as he adjusted his rearview mirror. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but when you stepped out the front door, it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. You looked stunning. The way you carried yourself, the way the evening light hit your features—it was almost unfair. Jake watched as you walked toward his car, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as his heart thudded in his chest.
You opened the passenger door, slipping inside with a shy smile, “Hi,” You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Jake didn’t respond right away. He was too busy staring, his brain struggling to come up with something—anything—to say. Up close, you were even prettier than he remembered, and it was doing things to his ability to form coherent thoughts.
“Hi,” He finally managed, his voice coming out a little rougher than he intended. You glanced at him, your smile widening slightly, and Jake felt like he was going to lose it. Fuck, you looked so hot.
He cleared his throat, quickly looking away as he started the car, “Uh, you—you look really nice,” He said, mentally kicking himself for how lame that sounded.
“Thank you,” You replied, your cheeks flushing as you glanced out the window. Jake stole another quick glance at you as he pulled away from the curb, wondering how he was supposed to focus on driving when you were sitting right there, looking like that.
The drive was silent but comfortable. He gave you a few looks as you stared out the window quietly. He assumed he should talk more when he gets to the restaurant since you looked so peaceful. He was hoping to God it wasn’t too expensive since he’s quit low on money as embarrassing as it sounds since it was Jays recommendations.
Jake pulled his car into the parking lot of a sleek, upscale restaurant, the golden glow of its soft lighting spilling through its large windows. He parked near the entrance, cutting the engine before glancing at you. You were staring at the building, your eyes wide with surprise, “This place looks… really nice,” You said, your voice tinged with awe.
Jake scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little nervous, “Yeah, I thought you might like it,” He said casually, though he’d spent way too long talking to Jay about ones that looked impressive but wouldn’t completely destroy his wallet.
You smiled at him, and it was the kind of smile that made him feel like he’d done something right for the first time, “I do. It’s perfect.”
Relieved, Jake got out of the car and quickly moved to your side to open the door for you. You stepped out gracefully, and the two of you walked toward the restaurant together, the soft sound of your shoes clicking against the pavement. Inside, the restaurant was even more elegant than it looked from the outside.
The low hum of conversation and soft instrumental music created an intimate atmosphere, and the warm lighting cast a golden glow over the polished wooden tables. Jake led you to the hostess, and soon enough, you were seated at a cozy table by the window. The two of you looked through the menus briefly before the waiter came to take your order, and the conversation flowed easily with the waiter as you waited for your food to arrive.
When the waiter finally brought your meals, the dishes were plated so beautifully it almost seemed like a shame to eat them, “This looks amazing,” You said, your eyes lighting up as you picked up your fork.
Jake smiled, watching your expression, “Yeah, definitely worth the drive.”
You took a bite, your face softening in delight. Jake chuckled at your cute expression, “Wow. Okay, this is really good.”
Jake took a bite of his own food and nodded in agreement, “They weren’t kidding about this place. I think I’m gonna start coming here every week.”
You laughed softly, “You’re really into food, huh?”
“Are you kidding? Food is, like, my love language,” Jake said, leaning back slightly, “Good food can fix almost anything.”
“Fair point,” you said, twirling your fork around your plate, “But if food’s your love language, what’s your hate language?”
Jake tilted his head thoughtfully like a puppy, “Cold coffee,” He said without missing a beat.
You burst out laughing, and Jake grinned, watching you, “Seriously, though. When someone orders an iced latte and lets it sit until the ice melts, I feel like I’ve failed them as a barista.”
“Iced lattes are your nemesis?” You teased, still giggling.
“Don’t underestimate how serious this is,” Jake replied, pretending to be solemn.
The two of you laughed together, and the conversation flowed easily as you continued eating. You asked him about his work, and he told you a funny story about a customer who ordered a “cappuccino but with no foam” and then got mad when it wasn’t a latte. By the time the plates were cleared, Jake felt like the two of you had been in your own little bubble, laughing and talking like old friends.
When you left the restaurant, the air outside was cool and refreshing. Jake walked beside you toward his car, his hands in his pockets. Once you were back inside, he hesitated for a moment before glancing over at you.
“So,” He started, turning the key in the ignition but not driving just yet, “Since I’ve, uh… seen … seen your house now…” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve been wondering,” he said, glancing at you quickly before looking back at the steering wheel, “What do you do for a living?”
You smiled knowingly, leaning back in your seat,“You were right,” You said, your tone playful, “I’m a businesswoman. I work in an office building with my friend. We run a consulting firm together.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up, “Seriously? That’s… wow. No wonder you’re living like that.”
You chuckled softly, “Yeah, I get paid pretty well. It’s a good gig.”
Jake nodded, clearly impressed. Damn, you had it good, “That’s really cool. Like, actually really cool.”
You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before smiling again, “I think it’s cool that you’re a barista,” You said sincerely.
Jake blinked, caught off guard, “Me? Nah, it’s not that impressive,” He mumbled, suddenly feeling shy as he looked down at the steering wheel again.
“I’m serious,” You insisted, “It’s such a unique job, and it suits you. I bet you’re really good at it.”
Jake’s ears burned, and he couldn’t fight the sheepish smile spreading across his face, “Thanks,” He muttered, feeling like he was seventeen all over again.
You laughed softly, and Jake finally pulled out of the parking lot, his heart lighter than it had been in a while. As he drove back to your house he couldn’t help but laugh every time you pulled off a joke. You would giggle every time he told you a funny story about his friends. It was all too perfect to him. He didn’t want the night to end.
But sadly he soon got to your house and parks on the curb. It was silent for few minutes when you offered him a smile, “It was nice having this date with you. I mean, I didn’t know you were this fun.” You joked.
Jake chuckled, “You’d be surprised.” He replied earning another pretty laugh of yours. It was a few seconds of silence when you made eye contact with him. Jake did the same, though he noticed you were not looking at his eyes anymore, but his lips. He felt his heart pounding against his chest.
“I think you should-“ You cut him off by smashing your lips against his. It wasn’t dramatic or planned, just a soft, tentative kiss that felt like the most natural thing in the world. But Jake didn’t move. His lips didn’t press back into yours, and his entire body tensed as if someone had hit pause on him.
You pulled back, confused, your brow furrowing as you searched his face. He was staring at you, wide-eyed, his cheeks flushed a deep red, “Jake,” You said softly, your voice careful, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” He blurted, a little too quickly. His eyes darted everywhere except to yours, “I’m—I’m fine. You should, uh—you should go.”
The words must’ve hit you like a cold splash of water, “Go?”
Jake nodded, his hands gripping the edge of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white, “Yeah, I think—uh, I think you should leave.”
You blinked, your heart sinking, “Did I… did I do something wrong?”
“No,” Jake said quickly, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted you to think was that you did something wrong, “It’s not that. It’s just…” He trailed off, chewing on his bottom lip as if the words were physically stuck in his throat.
“Just what?” You pressed gently, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jake hesitated, his face twisting in frustration before he finally blurted, “I can’t kiss.”
You stared at him, taken aback, “What?”
“I’ve never kissed anyone before, okay?” He said, his voice rising slightly before he looked away, embarrassed, “I didn’t know what to do, and I—I froze, and now it’s just weird.”
“Jake,” You started, but he cut you off.
“It’s better if you just go,” He said quickly, his voice quiet now, almost resigned. He still couldn’t look at you, “Seriously.”
He could tell you didn’t want to leave—not like this—but he sat there, closed off and distant, making it clear he wasn’t ready for this conversation.
“Okay,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly, “I’ll go.”
Jake didn’t move, didn’t even look at you as you made your way to the door. You paused for a moment, your hand on the handle, most likely hoping he might say something, anything, to stop you. But he didn’t. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of what had just happened settled heavily in his chest. He watched as you opened your door and shut it without looking back. He didn’t blame you at all.
Inside, Jake buried his face in his hands, his stomach twisting with guilt. He didn’t want you to leave, but he couldn’t get past the knot of insecurity and shame tightening in his chest. He was fucking stupid. Why was he such an embarrassment. Jay was right. No girl would like a guy who is inexperienced. A few seconds he started the car and drove back to his house.
Once he got there it was dark and cold. He slammed his bedroom shut and lay on his bed in his date clothes. He didn’t even think about messaging his friends about what happened. He was too embarrassed. Neither did he messaged you an apology. You probably already blocked him. And he would have no other choice but to accept it.
Jake stood behind the counter at the cafe, aimlessly wiping a perfectly clean section of the countertop for what felt like the hundredth time. The usual clatter of mugs, the hum of conversation, and the hiss of the espresso machine buzzed around him, but he barely registered any of it. His mind was elsewhere—stuck on the events of the night before.
“Jake!”
He flinched, his hand freezing mid-wipe as Jay’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Jay was leaning against the espresso machine, a latte cup in hand, watching him with a raised brow. Shit, did Jay noticed he was wiping the same place over and over? Before he could say anything, Jay cut him to it, clearly upset.
“What’s up with you?” Jay asked, tilting his head. His voice was a bit gentler than Jake was expecting, “You’ve been zoning out all morning. You didn’t even react when I stole that tip you left on the counter.”
Jake blinked, confused, “Wait, what tip?”
Jay snorted, “Exactly. You’re out of it, man. So… how’d the date go?”
Jake glanced at him and then quickly looked away, focusing on folding a towel, “Fine,” He said flatly. Jake felt a lump forming in his throat just remembering the vents from last night.
Jay set his cup down with a loud clink, “Fine? That’s it? You’re acting like someone ran over your dog, and all I get is ‘fine’? Spill it, Jake. What happened?”
“Nothing,” Jake muttered, keeping his eyes on the towel.
From the other end of the counter, Sunghoon appeared, balancing a tray of mugs. He raised an eyebrow as he set the tray down, “What’s going on?”
“Jake’s being weird,” Jay said, gesturing toward him, “He says the date was ‘fine,’ but he’s been moping around all morning like it wasn’t fine.”
Sunghoon looked at Jake, who was now scrubbing the same spot on the counter he’d been wiping earlier, “Jake,” Sunghoon said carefully, “Did she do something that made you uncomfortable?”
Jake froze for a moment before shaking his head. He knew Sunghoon would have his back if anything, “No. It wasn’t her. It was… me.”
Jay frowned, “You? What do you mean?”
Jake hesitated, gripping the towel tightly, “She kissed me,” He said quietly, his face heating up.
Jay’s eyes widened and let out a him, clearly not getting what the fuck was wrong, “Okay, that sounds like a good thing. Why are you acting like it wasn’t?”
Jake sighed, feeling the weight of their stares, “Because I panicked. I didn’t kiss her back. And then I told her I couldn’t kiss, and I—” He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “I told her she should leave.”
Sunghoon set the tray down slowly, his expression unreadable, “You told her to leave?”
Jake nodded miserably. Jay stared at him for a moment before letting out a low whistle, “Wow. That’s bad. That’s kind of embarrassing.”
Sunghoon immediately elbowed him in the side, “Jay!”
“What? I’m just being honest!” Jay said defensively. Jake didn’t respond, his shoulders slumping as he folded the towel into a perfect square.
“Okay, but seriously,” Sunghoon said, his tone softer now, “Why’d you panic? You like her, right?”
Jake let out a humorless laugh? “Of course I like her. That’s the problem. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I didn’t know what to do, and I freaked out. Now she probably thinks I don’t like her or that I’m some kind of idiot.”
Jay leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms, “Dude, you’re overthinking this. Freaking out over your first kiss? That’s normal. It doesn’t make you an idiot.”
Jake shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. I made it weird. She left, and now I don’t even know if I should text her or what I’d even say.”
Sunghoon leaned against the counter beside him, “Be honest,” He said simply, “Tell her why you reacted the way you did. She kissed you for a reason—she likes you. If you explain, I’m sure she’ll understand.”
Jake frowned, still uncertain, “You really think she’d want to hear from me after that?”
Jay nudged him lightly, “Absolutely. Just don’t overthink it, man. If you wait too long, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy.”
Jay was right. He was already crazy enough for letting you go like that. He nodded and gave them a small smile. He’ll make it happen today. He’ll apologize to you today. So, as soon as his shift ended, Jake didn’t bother going home to change or unwind. He got in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove toward your house. His mind raced with what he would say.
“I’m sorry.” Too simple.
“I panicked because I didn’t want to mess up.” Too revealing.
“I don’t know how to kiss because I’ve never been with anyone.” He winced at that thought. He didn’t want to come off as pathetic.
The drive was short, but it felt like an eternity. When he finally pulled into your neighborhood, the looming houses made him feel like he was stepping into another world. They were big—bigger than anything he’d ever known—and it reminded him of just how different your lives were. He pulled up to your driveway, the size of your house making his stomach twist again. Shutting off the engine, Jake took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. You’ve got this. Just explain yourself and hope for the best, he thought.
He climbed out of the car, made his way to your front door, and knocked. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited. Seconds felt like hours, and just as he was starting to wonder if you weren’t home, the door opened.
But it wasn’t you.
Jake blinked in surprise, his brain struggling to process who stood before him. It was Sunghoon’s girlfriend. Wait, what the fuck?
“What… what are you doing here?” Jake stammered.
She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms, “I should be asking you the same thing.”
Jake opened his mouth, closed it, then managed to say, “I’m here to see Y/n? She lives here right?”
The words had barely left his lips when you appeared behind her, your eyes widening at the sight of him, “Jake?” You questioned.
“Hey,” He said awkwardly, shifting on his feet.
Sunghoon’s girlfriend glanced between the two of you, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips, “Well, this just got interesting,” She said, stepping aside to let you take over.
You hesitated for a moment before nodding and opening the door wider, “Come in.”
Jake stepped inside, his hands shoved into his pockets. The awkwardness in the air was thick, but before he could say anything, he turned back to Sunghoon’s girlfriend, “Wait—what are you doing here?”
She leaned casually against the wall, looking amused, “I could ask you the same thing again, but fine. I’m here because I’m her friend.”
Jake blinked, looking between her and you, “Since when have you two been friends?”
“Since we started working together,” She said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Jake stared at her, his mouth slightly open in surprise. He had no idea you worked together. Neither did he knew Sunghoon was interested in bitches like her. Before he could ask more, she clapped her hands together.
“Well, I was just leaving,” She said, grabbing her bag from the couch. She gave you a quick hug, then shot Jake a teasing look as she passed him, “Good luck.”
Jake stood there for a moment, stunned. He wanted to ask a hundred questions about her being here, but he decided to focus on the real reason he’d come. He turned to you, his nerves suddenly crashing down on him.
“So,” You said softly, crossing your arms as you leaned against the arm of the couch, “Why are you here?”
Jake scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze, “I, uh, wanted to talk about yesterday.”
You straightened, your expression cautious, “Okay.”
Jake took a deep breath, forcing himself to look at you, “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. For how I acted.”
Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, letting him continue, “I panicked,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, “I’ve never… I’ve never kissed anyone before. I didn’t know what to do, and I felt like an idiot. So instead of saying something, I just pushed you away.”
Your lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across your face, “Jake…”
He shook his head quickly, cutting you off, “I know it was dumb. I shouldn’t have done that. And I understand if you’re upset or if you don’t want to see me again, but I just couldn’t leave things the way they were. I like you. A lot. And I didn’t want you to think I don’t because of how I acted.”
The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Then, you stepped closer, your expression softening, “Jake,” You said gently, “I’m not upset. I was just… confused. I didn’t understand why you reacted the way you did.”
He looked at you, relief washing over him like a wave, “You’re not mad?”
You shook your head, “No. I wish you’d told me sooner, but I get it now. And for the record,” You added with a small smile, “I like you too.”
Jake’s face flushed, his heart skipping a beat, “You do?”
You laughed softly, “Yes, Jake. I do.”
He let out a shaky breath, a smile tugging at his lips, “Okay. Good. Because I really want to try again. If you’re okay with that.”
“I’d like that,” You said, your smile growing. Jake felt like a little kid having a crush for the first time. You extended your hand out, waiting for him to grab it. He did and you escorted him to your living room.
It wasn’t a second when you suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck and stared at him seductively. Fuck, he’s really gonna do this. You closed your eyes and leaned in, Jake did the same. That’s when he felt your lips finally connecting. It was slow and gentle, as if he was gonna runaway again, but he wasn’t. He moved his lips slowly against yours, matching the pace. You let out a noise when he gripped your neck tightly.
Who knew your lips felt fucking amazing against his. His other hand rubbed against your open waist from your crop top. He suddenly let out a surprised whine when you gripped his dick. You froze and broke the kiss, your saliva connecting together, “D-Did you just whine?” You asked breathlessly.
Jake shoved his face in your neck, “Please, don’t make fun of me.” He whimpered. Your eyes went wide at the sudden tone of his voice. It was quiet and submissive. You then let out a little chuckle.
“Don’t worry. It was hot.” You admitted. Jake sighed when he felt you tug at his hair. He stared at you and gave you another peck on the lips. You slowly pushed him towards your couch as he fell back on it. You got on top of him and kissed him again, feeling his dick harden underneath.
He let out whines and moans feeling you grind so good against him. He never felt this type of pleasure before. You let out quiet moans as you bucked your hips. You lowered your head to his neck and softly sucked on it. Jake felt too much at the same time, he felt like he was gonna cum.
“Agh!- wait a minute!” He whined. You stopped sucking and looked up at him confused. He let out a shaky sigh, “I don’t wanna cum soon.”
You blinked. A smile was forming on your lips, “Why? Wanna cum inside me instead?” You purred. Jake eyes widened. Your mouth is so fucking nasty. He loves it a little too much.
“Y-Yes! Wanna cum inside.” He sighed. You lifted yourself up a bit and unbuckled his pants. He felt himself feeling more urgent the way you slowly undid his pants. He lifted his hips up to help you have access to his boxers. You lowered towards his cloth dick and rubbed it.
Jake threw his head back and let out a strangle moan. You gripped it, squeezed it, and stroke it. It all made Jake feel so dizzy and yet so good. You finally lowered his boxers revealing his dick, “Holy shit.” You mumbled. He was huge. Jake shyly covered himself with his arm making you giggle.
You gripped his dick and softly stroke it before spitting on it. Jake gasped when he felt your saliva trickling down his shaft and let out a cry when you suddenly engulfed his dick in your mouth. You gagged a bit feeling him hit the back of your throat. Jake eyes rolled back feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You moaned around it and bobbed your head slowly trying to get used to the feeling. Jake gripped your hair and held you in place.
“Hah- M’gonna cum!” He cried out. Ghat didn’t stop you though. You took his hand off your head and went faster. Jake bucked his hips making you gag again, but the pain felt good. His orgasm came faster than he was expecting. Cumming deep in your mouth. What shocked him was when you swallowed everything easily. You took his dick out of your mouth and licked your lips.
Fuck, you were gonna be the death of him, “You taste good.” You said. As if it was the most normal thing to say after an intense blowjob. Jake breathed unevenly and gave you a sloppy smile. Round two of a blowjob didn’t sound bad.
You took off your shirt and unclipping your bra revealing your perky tits. Jake felt himself drooling staring at them. You giggled and grabbed his hands, putting them right on your tits. Jake cursed and gripped them softly. You bit your lip to suppress a moan. You began grinding again and let out a whimper feeling his tip hit your clit perfectly. One of Jake’s hand gripped your tit while the other helped you move your hips. You felt like you were gonna cum just from this.
You suddenly stop causing Jake to look up at you dazed, “Don’t wanna cum like this.” You stated. You got off of him and took off your underwear. With your pussy finally in view, Jake already felt like he was gonna cum the second time. You got back on top of him and grabbed his dick, aligning it at your entrance. You slowly sunk down and breathed out. He felt so big inside you. Is he gonna fit all the way? Your eyes teared up a little making Jake stare worriedly.
“D-Does it hurt? We can stop-“
“No! I’m fine. J-Just getting used to your size.” You panted. When he was fully inside you slowly grind getting used to the size. Jake had his head back feeling your velvet walls squeeze him so tight. You were so wet.
“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum again.” Jake whispered.
You shook your head, “Try to hold it, please.” And who was Jake to say no? You began slowly going up and down, your moans now getting louder by each second. Jake gripped your hips and helped you. He bit his lip feeling you milk his dick.
The sound of skin slapping and moans bouncing off the walls made Jake realize he was actually fucking somebody. His moans suddenly got louder when you began bouncing faster, your tits jiggling everyone your pussy took his whole dick in. Your pussy was practically throbbing around him.
“Shit! Jake! Gonna cum!” You cried. Jake held your hips and started fucking you from below. You let out scream when you finally came all over his dick. He whimpered and went faster. He thrusted five more times before cumming deep inside you.
You panted against his neck as he slipped his dick out of your leaking pussy causing you to whine. You laid there breathless while Jake twirled a strand of your hair, “Sorry, was I too rough?”
You giggled, “You were perfect.”
He smiled and hugged your waist, “I’m glad you were my first.” He mumbled in your ear. You hummed and closed your eyes. It was silent for a few seconds before Jake asked a question.
“Have you ever got eaten out before?” He asked. You glanced at him and slightly shook your head.
“I haven’t. I’ve seen videos but-“ Before you could say anything else Jake suddenly flipped you over making you lay on your back with him on top of you, “Jake! What are you-“
He didn’t say anything when he lifted your legs over his shoulders. You shook your head frantically, “W-Wait Jake! I’m still sensitive!” You reasoned. But it went in Jake’s ear out the other when he lowered his face to your pussy.
No, he hasn’t ate pussy before, but he watched enough videos to know what he’s doing. He opened your folds with his fingers making you let out a surprised gasp before you felt his hot tongue lick you bud. You arched your back and whimpered at the new feeling. Jake licked and sucked your hole harshly, your pussy producing more slick from the pleasurable sensation. You felt tears gather in your eyes feeling overstimulated but not wanting him to stop.
You felt your orgasm coming and gripped Jake’s head, “Hng!- J-Jake I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. You felt your orgasm coming over you when he punched your bud with his fingers. Jake licked up your juices and hummed. You tasted sweet. He licked you clean and let your thighs fall on the couch, your legs shaking at the rough orgasm you had. Jake smiled and kissed your cheek.
“That wasn’t cool.” You breathed out.
Jake laughed and hugged your side, “I might do that again when you’re not expecting it.” He smiled. You glared at him, but couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. As Jake held you close when you fell asleep, he couldn’t help but feel like he achieved something special. And it’s all thanks to you.
BONUS
Jay: How’d it go? Did she forgive you?
Jake: Yeah, we had sex ^^
Sunghoon: Ew, don’t type it so cute
Jake: Sorry
Jake: BTW I didn’t know she was friends with your gf Sunghoon.
Sunghoon: She is?
Jake: Yeah, she was at her house when I stopped by
Sunghoon: That explains why she was suddenly excited for her friend
Sunghoon: Ig she knew what you guys were gonna do
Jay: Are you guys still fighting?
Sunghoon: No, she forgave me when I gave her flowers
Jay: Good! So how about that threesome I was talking about-
Sunghoon left the group chat
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devil-in-hiding · 5 months ago
Text
On The Run
Pt 3
At some point, Soap and Gaz fall asleep on the couch, sprawled across one another. Ghost is laid back in one of the recliners, struggling to keep his eyes open as Price’s voice lulls him to sleep from the kitchen.
You're not sure how long the two of you have sat here. It took Price an hour to finally open his mouth. He has hardly met your eye since he’s started talking, hands clasped together on top of the table.
The ache you felt in your chest for these men worsened the longer Price spoke. Proud military men, tired of seeing the monsters they hunted get slaps on the wrist for atrocious crimes. Making plea deals with lawyers, getting one way tickets into luxury cells when they should be six feet underground.
You don’t realise Price has stopped talking till Soap snores, causing Dixon to shuffle at your feet, all four dogs scattered around the kitchen floor. You look him over, taking in the man now that all his bravado has been drained, leaving only the raw human underneath. Blue eyes darkened by years on the force and then years behind bars, forced into proximity with the very animals he and his team longed to put down. You’re looking at a man who fought for what was right and when justice wasn’t served in a way he deemed fit, he settled it.
Price is staring down at his hands, and you’re worried he’s going to hurt himself with how vigorously he rubs his hands together. You don’t think, reaching across the table and grasping one of his hands in yours, running your thumb across scarred knuckles. “Don’t do that.” You scold, and his head whips up to stare at you, eyes wide, hopeful but hesitant.
He looks down at your hand holding his, then back at you. “You’re not…?” He trails off, clearing his throat as he sits up straighter, letting your palm slip into his. You’re not sure what word he was going to use, but you shake your head.
“I’m… I’m sorry you all had to…” You don’t finish your sentence, letting it hang in the air between you. You’re shocked to see tears pool at the corner of his eyes but he’s quick to blink them away.
“You’re not horrified by us?” He asks, and you can tell he’s trying to fight his voice from shaking. You clear your throat, but gently squeeze his hand when his grip loosens.
“You have done… horrible things. Inhumane things.” You start, trying to pick your words carefully as you scoot your chair closer to his. He watches you warily, but there is no denying the growing hope in those eyes. “But I couldn’t imagine seeing what you saw everyday. Hearing the things you’ve heard, having to keep that all to yourself. Seeing… monsters you’ve spent years tracking get served the minimum sentence with a cozy cell waiting for them.” His hand starts to shake, and your heart breaks seeing how hard he’s fighting back the tears pooling in his eyes. “We never would have actually hurt you, I swear on my life. We just… Fuck we had been running for fucking hours through those god damn trees and-“ His voice cracks, and you gently run your thumb over the back of his hand. “Why are you being so nice?” He almost spits the word, but his grip on your hand tightens.
Grounding.
“You did as I asked. You told me the truth.” You mirror his words from the barn, and he barks out a wet sounding laugh before covering his face with his free hand. “And you’re happy with that truth?”
“I’m happy you decided you could trust me enough with it.” You admit softly, and he stares into your eyes, and you don’t feel the need to look away this time. “Anyone else would have gone running for the hills.” He whispers, and you can’t help but smile.
“Not many places to run to, and if I’m telling the honest truth, there are worse things than killing human filth.” You shrug, and he lets out a bewildered laugh. “You can’t mean-“
“I do though. There are people in this world that don’t deserve the freedom they have, that have ripped apart the lives of others and continue living like they didn’t single-handedly ruin someone’s entire foundation.” Your words are a little more forceful than you intended, raw. And Price catches it, sitting up a little straighter, tugging your hand closer.
“You have your own monster, don’t you pretty?” He asks seriously, and you swallow, lowering your gaze to your clasped hands.
“I think that’s a story for another night.” You whisper, and you see him nod, before realization hits, and his eyes widen.
“You’re going to let us-“
“You are going to have to show me that I am not making a mistake by letting four wanted men stay in my house.” You interrupt him, but there’s a smile on your face. The next seconds are a blur and you suddenly find this giant of a man at your feet, kneeling in front of you and holding both your hands in his. His shoulders are shaking, head bent but you hear the hitch in his breath.
“Price..” You murmur, a little nervous but you slip your hands free, slowly running your fingers through his hair, and you hear the sob that leaves him. He bunches up the loose fabric of your sweats in his fist, and you can feel his tears starting to soak through.
“You are a good person.” He chokes out, looking up at you and the look on his face has tears of your own threatening to spill. He looks exhausted, like every ounce of his energy has finally been drained, years of enduring visceral human indecency ingrained into every part of his being. And yet he is gazing at you like you are the first glimpse of the sun after week long rainstorms, constant flooding and devastation, the light breaking through the clouds to spread warmth on a new day.
“You’re still a good person too.”
Those words linger in the air.
You lose track of time as you sit there, running your fingers through his hair, this man who you’ve never met, who invited himself into your home, but has bared the darkest corners of his soul to you all in one night. Grimes had made his way over at some point, staring at Price with a concerned tilt of his head. He never did like when you cried, and you can tell he’s desperate to try and comfort this strange man in his home. He lays besides him, paws outstretched, inching forward ever so slowly.
“He doesn’t like that you’re upset.” You mumble, watching the way his eyes snap over to Grimes. “Even though I terribly upset his mama earlier?” He mutters, he and Grimes staring at one another.
“Grimes has always been a big softy. Dixon is the one who’s gonna hold a grudge.” An answering ‘boof’ comes from beside you, Dixon plopping his head back on his paws after making his stance known.
Grimes scoots forward until he can rest his big head on Price’s lap, nuzzling down and looking up at him expectantly, and Price gives you a hesitant look. You just nod, smiling gently. “You’re gonna be staying with four of them, better get yourselves acquainted.”
“What in the bloody fuck did I miss?” A drowsy voice mutters from the doorway, and Ghost stands there, taking in the sight of Price kneeling before you, still clutching your sweatpants, and you can see the downturn of his lips through his mask when he notices the dried tears on Price’s cheek.
You gently pull Price’s hands off your sweats, and he looks as though you just took away his favorite treat. “I’ll go grab some fresh blankets.” You hum, face warming when you can feel both of their gazes on your back as you walk up the stairs.
“Wait, does that mean-“ You hear Ghost start, and you’re shocked to hear it so soft, but their words are lost as you turn down the hallway. You slip into the bedroom at the end of the hall, making quick work of dusting off the dresser and small TV, gently stacking a pile of clean sheets and towels. This room already had two beds, you just hoped they were big enough for these giant oafs.
You just about scream when a pair of hands grip your waist, and you whirl around. “Price you have got to stop grabbing me now- Oh.”
It was Ghost, eyes unreadable as he stares you down, and you clear your throat, loosening your grasp just a bit but still attempting to push him off.
“You scared me, you need to stop-“
“Thank you.” He interrupts, and your eyes widen as he pulls you closer.
“I- Well you’re welcome, I couldn’t just-“
“Yes you could. You could send out right back outside, hell you could get a goddamn brigade of officers here and you would be justified for it.” He shrugs, but you frown, shaking your head.
“No. From… from what Price told me, you all made your own choices to help those the governments deem lesser than them. You helped people who have watched law officials let them down again and again.” You state firmly, wincing slightly as you feel Ghost dig his fingers into your hips. “Easy.” You scold, and he immediately eases up, but doesn’t let go of you, keeping you pressed to him and your heart skips.
“I’ll just finish-“
“Whoever divorces such a sweet little bird must have absolute shit for brains.” Ghost states, quite confidently, and you can’t stop the shocked giggle that slips past. “Absolute fuckin idiot.”
“You can’t win me over with flattery you know.” You huff, but he sees right through you, dark eyes taking in your flustered expression, and you feel heat burn your cheeks as you avoid meeting his eye.
“Mmm, we’ll see about that. Think it’ll get me pretty damn far.” He grins, and you smack his hands before pausing.
“Wait.” You mutter, prying his right hand off of you and lifting it up, inspecting.
Your teeth made a pretty gnarly imprint, already scabbing. “Ah don’t worry about that. I deserved it.”
“C’mon you big idiot, before you let that thing get infected.” You order, pushing him towards the bathroom and he lets out a loud laugh, the sound causing butterflies to seize your stomach.
“Yes ma’am.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months ago
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Hiiii!! I love your writing for the batboys!
So my request is Jason and Dick with a s/o and their like cuddling exchanging kisses relaxing and one of their brothers get them for a mission and see their brother (Jason/Dick) with their s/o for the first time. (Maybe the other batboy didn't know Jason/Dick had a girlfriend)
Okieee! Have a great day!
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Dick
Cuddled himself into your side, burying his head into your neck, on the verge of falling asleep but not quite there yet as he hummed whenever you ran your fingers through his hair.
‘You like it when I run my fingers through your hair, you might as well be purring.’ You told him while giggling as he tightened his grip on your waist when he felt you shift slightly beneath him. ‘You’d like that wouldn’t you.’ Dick said sluggishly as he pushed his head further into your hand, impatient as he waited for you to continue running your fingers through his hair whenever you stopped briefly.
‘I would but you already act more than enough like a puppy regardless. I guess what they say about dogs and owners looking alike is more true in your case but instead of looks it’s personality.’ You said as you gently tugged his hair, causing him to groan as he then retaliated by deliberately kissing under your jaw and down your neck slowly as he could.
‘You think you’re funny don’t you?’ Dick asks against your neck.
‘I think I’m hilarious when you’re concerned dickbird.’ You gasped when you felt him nibble on your skin, ‘but you love me for it really.’ You added as he raised his head to look at you with a cute little pout across his tired face. You hated how exhausted he looked and so you had decided earlier that day that he was scheduled for some much needed rest, even going so far as to drag him to bed when he was too stubborn to leave a case for a measly five minutes just to eat food.
‘I do, love you I mean.’ Dick said softly as he raised his head to kiss your lips as you hummed happily against him, just as the door to his room swung open.
‘Alright dickhead, time to-‘ Jason looked up to see that he had clearly instructed something and instead of leaving he decided to stand in the doorway awkwardly as he cleared his throat.
‘I didn’t know you had company in here.’ Jason then said.
‘What do you think I normally do?’ Dick asked his younger brother as he shrugged his shoulders.
‘Piss us about usually.’ Jason replied almost casually that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sibling spat. ‘Now I’m sorry to cut your lovers embrace short but we need to go, preferably now because I don’t know how much longer Tim and Damian can remain together in awkward silence.’ Dick sighed and kissed your cheek as he begun to pull himself away from you begrudgingly.
‘Sorry peanut, I promise you I’ll cuddle you as soon as I get home.’ Dick said when he saw you pout, hand tugging at his shirt which only made him want to say fuck it and stay in your arms, but he knew he couldn’t leave Jason alone to deal with Damian and Tim the entire night without them unironically pissing the other off somehow. ‘For now I’ve got some siblings to keep away from killing each other, so keep the bed warm for me yeah?.’ He adds as he cups your face and kisses you on the lips, nose and forehead.
‘It’ll be cosy and warm when you come home, that and probably smelling of dog too.’ You said as you kissed the space between his brows, cussing dick to smile and relax beneath your lips, he didn’t want to leave, he really didn’t but he knew that when he did come back it’ll be all the more worth while.
‘That’s fine by me, sweetheart.’ Dick replied, completely ignoring Jason who was wondering how the fuck you managed to deal with his brother for as long as you have.
Jason had you cosied up to his side as he continued to read a book he has been meaning to catch up on for a long while but couldn’t in due to the random spikes in crime as of late.
Which unfortunately meant that quality time between yourself and Jason was short lived. So when you were finally able to have Jason by your side for longer then an a few brief moments, you were bound to leap at the opportunity to cling onto him and smother him in kisses, much like you were doing now across his jawline and down his neck.
‘Miss me that much chipmunk?’ Jason asked with a smile as he paused his reading to rear his head back, allowing you further access to his neck, smiling to himself as he felt your lips caress his skin pleasantly. Jason was very much in need for affection after going without it for far longer then he might’ve liked, especially when most days it seemed as though your affection was all that helped Jason in getting through the day; and being deprived of such was a different kind of torture for Jason when he had finally gotten accustomed to it since the start of your relationship.
‘I did,’ you admitted, kissing his pulse on his neck before pulling away to smile up at him, ‘but with how tightly your holding my waist, I’d say you’ve missed me just as much jaybird.’ You added cheekily as you gestured down to the hand that was gripping your waist almost protectively with a playful glint in your eyes.
Jason scoffed as he then tugged you closer to him, making sure to rest his forehead against your own as he spoke, ‘I did miss you chipmunk, I’m not ashamed to admit it because most days it seemed as though you were the only thing keeping me going most of the time.’ He smiles sweetly at you as he kissed your forehead, you closed your eyes and leant into his touch happily, finding bliss at long last.
Only for the door to Jason’s room to burst open. ‘Jason! Are you ready yet Damian’s- oh.’ Dick stoped mid sentence when he noticed you cuddling up to his brother’s side.
You and Jason looked at Dick, who seemed frozen on the spot with his sudden stillness and unblinking eyes, before looking at each other.
‘Is he…okay?’ You whispered to Jason, concerned.
‘He’s fine. Dick’s just being…well a dick.’ Jason replied as he picked up a pillow and threw it in Dick’s direction, ‘Paging dr dickhead.’ He adds as the pillow hit dick square in the face as you slapped Jason on the bicep. ‘Be nice to your friend? Brother? I don’t know-‘
‘I didn’t know you had a significant other Jason!’ Dick exclaimed, completely forgetting what he was doing there in the first place as he smiled widely at you both.
‘And there’s a good reason for that.’ Jason growled as his hand on your waist tightened.
‘So they’re the reason you didn’t want to come out on patrol tonight?’ Dick continued as he made himself comfortable on the edge of Jason’s bed. ‘Who knew my little bro Jay jay was in love.’ He teased and he tried to pinch Jason’s cheeks, only for Jason to smack it away with a grunt, dick shrugs as he played on his stomach and kicked his legs. ‘So tell me how you met, leave no detail out of it.’
Needless to say dick has to be dragged out of the room by the scruff of his neck by an agitated Jason as he dropped him off with Damian, who was sharping his sword, and said ‘he’s your problem now.’ And went back to his room to you to cuddle.
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blaire-apricity · 6 months ago
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Welcome Back
ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘓𝘈𝘋𝘚 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦?
ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘖𝘊
─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────
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𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫
Despite being utterly exhausted from your mission, you took great care in opening the apartment door you shared with Xavier, not wanting to wake him if he was already asleep.
Given how he always seemed drowsy during the day, you assumed he’d be in bed by now. But you had forgotten that Xavier was always up late, hunting Wanderers and attending to his own errands.
Quietly closing the door behind you, you were taken by surprise when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, his chest pressing gently against your back.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” you asked softly, concerned that your footsteps and the creaking floor might have disturbed his sleep.
He nuzzled into your nape, inhaling your scent, his embrace firm yet tender, as if afraid you’d vanish if he let go.
“No,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling your neck. “I waited for you.”
A twinge of guilt washed over you. “Let’s rest then?” you suggested softly.
But there was no response. Turning your head, you saw that he had miraculously fallen asleep in that position.
Even though he was leaning on you, his weight wasn’t burdensome, but his even breathing and heaving shoulders told you he was sound asleep.
Raising a hand to wake him, you changed your mind and instead began to gently massage his scalp with one hand while caressing his hand on your waist with the other.
He let out a soft, satisfied mumble, melting into your touch.
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𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞
Usually, Zayne would be the one who would come home late after his night surgeries, but tonight, it was you.
Opening the door, you noticed a light on in the living room. Zayne was sitting on the couch, a book in his hands, his eyes immediately locking onto you as you walked in.
“You’re late. It’s already past midnight,” he stated calmly, though you detected a hint of concern in his voice.
“Yeah, sorry. I had to finish some documents,” you replied, feeling a pang of guilt for worrying him.
Setting his book down, he stood up, his expression composed but his concern evident. "You should have called," he said, walking over to you with steady, pragmatic concern.
"I know, but I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted.
He sighed softly, a rare show of emotion. "It's never a bother when it’s about you," he said, gently touching your arm. "Are you okay?"
“I’m fine, just tired,” you assured him with a small smile.
“Good,” he nodded, his stoicism softening as he looked at you. "But next time, just let me know."
Nodding, you felt warmth in your chest at his words. Despite his reserved nature, you knew he cared deeply. “I promise.”
He gave a slight, approving nod before stepping back. "Alright, let’s get you to bed. You need rest."
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𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥
"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Rafayel quipped, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm as you walked in.
You sighed, closing the door behind you. "I had a job, Rafayel. It took longer than expected."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And here I thought you were out having fun without me."
Rolling your eyes, you knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you. "Seriously, Rafayel, it was work."
He stood up, sauntering over to you with that roguish charm that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.
"You could have at least called, you know. I was starting to think you found someone more interesting than me," he said, a mock pout on his lips.
"You know that’s not true," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips despite your tiredness.
He stopped in front of you, his playful demeanor softening just a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make a habit of it," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I might start to get jealous."
Laughing softly, you felt the tension of the day melt away. "I’ll keep that in mind."
"Good," he said, leaning in closer. "Now, how about a proper welcome home kiss?"
You obliged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His teasing nature might annoy and drive you crazy sometimes, but beneath it all, you knew he cared deeply for you.
As you pulled away, he smirked. "See? Was that so hard?"
Shaking your head, amused, you replied, "You're impossible."
"But you love me anyway," he retorted, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Yes, I do," you admitted, sighing softly in defeat at his annoyingly-childish charm.
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𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬
"Out late, aren’t we, sweetie?" Sylus remarked coolly, his tone controlled.
The lights were still on, and he was sitting in a sleek armchair, a glass of whiskey in hand, looking completely unbothered.
“Nice to see you too, Sylus,” you said, setting your bag down and rolling your eyes. "The job just took longer than expected."
Standing up, he walked over to you with that confident, almost intimidating grace he always had. "You could have called," he said.
"And miss out on your reaction? Where's the fun in that?" you replied, a playful glint in your eyes.
He chuckled, almost a scoff of amusement, clearly enjoying the banter. "Fair enough. But next time, try not to keep me waiting."
"Impatient and bossy?" you teased, crossing your arms.
He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement and something more intense. "Assertive, more like." He said, tilting your chin up. "Did you at least have a productive night?"
"It was fine. Just a lot of work," you said, trying to ignore the way your heart raced under his gaze.
"Good," he replied, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I expect nothing less from you."
Raising an eyebrow, you didn’t back down. "And I expect nothing less than a proper welcome home from my significant other."
He laughed, a deep raspy tone. "Demanding, aren’t we? But I suppose you’ve earned it."
Leaning in, he kissed you in the forehead, a mix of possessiveness and affection in the gesture. When he pulled back, his eyes still twinkled with that ever-present dominance.
"If you keep coming home this late, I might have to start tagging along on these jobs of yours," he said lightly, but with underlying seriousness.
"Like you’d ever leave Onychinus for a night," you retorted, grinning knowing he’d never leave it to the twins.
"True," he conceded. "But for you, I might make an exception."
·❆   ❆ ❅    •    .     ❆❆•  · .   ❅
𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐷𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠. 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟/ 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 (𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑) 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦, 𝑋𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑟.
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honey-tongued-devil · 1 month ago
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[Arcane preference] reacting to their s/o wearing mobility aids
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When I said I was prioritizing the illnesses I had, I didn��t expect the hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, but here we are. For those who don’t know what it is: it’s a genetic condition that affects the ligaments, making them longer and/or looser, which cause problems over time. In my case, it affects my legs, so I’ll write about those. As always, if you want to read more of my work, you can click on the coloured texts! here the Tumblr masterlist, and here are the first two chapters of Everytime it Rains.
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |
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Jayce:
He’s well-versed in what to do and not do, being around two people with a similar condition (though he’ll never call it a "disease" out loud for fear of making anyone uncomfortable).
His help is as subtle as possible: he’ll grab your backpack, shoulder bag, or anything else you’re carrying to keep you from overexerting yourself.
During walks, he’s the one who’ll suddenly mention it’s getting cold, too hot, or that he just remembered something, as soon as he senses you’re getting tired, assuming your fatigue is worse than his.
The first time you said, “I’ll pass, my knees are about to bend” he didn’t realize they bent backwards, and when he saw what that actually meant, he went pale.
He felt guilty about his reaction for at least a week.
Viktor:
Tell him something he doesn’t know.
He’s the one who’ll comment, “Where’s your brace?” if he sees you with bare legs and no aid, maybe tapping your foot lightly with his cane to emphasize his disapproval.
On the bad days—when fatigue, cold, or any external factor makes both of your legs useless—you end up helping each other out, spending most of the time on the couch with pillows under his knees and your legs draped over his.
If you have to do something alone while he’s busy, he’ll ask Jayce to accompany you, ensuring you don’t overdo it without realizing.
Ekko:
Honestly, he couldn’t care less. I mean, it’s not a big problem for him
The first time he saw your knees bend weirdly and too much, he just said, “Ouch.”
Other than that, there are hoverboards! If your legs stop cooperating at some point in the day, he’ll just have you balance seated on the hoverboard, saying it’s a gentleman’s duty to escort such an attractive lad/lady around.
He doesn’t ask what you want or need; he just does it, whether it’s bringing you food or removing your knee brace to let your skin breathe.
If he’s going to be away from the house for a while, he leaves a few things ready for you, like water bottles, so you don’t have to strain yourself carrying them up the stairs on your own.
When he sees you’re worn out, he’ll ask if you want a massage, using some body butter to improve circulation, relieve stress, and keep your skin elastic.
Vander:
His first instinct would be to carry you, but since that’s sweet yet sometimes awkward, you both agree that at night ‘it’s a man’s right to carry his wife/husband to bed, disability or not’.
He doesn’t know exactly how to help, so aside from asking if you need anything—like grabbing your aids, bringing them to you, or helping you put them on—he won’t push, knowing you’ll ask for help if you need it.
If you need to go upstairs, he’ll always walk behind you so that if your knees give out, he can catch you and avoid disaster.
At least two rectangular pillows appear in every useful room so you can place them under your knees. The problem is that you forget about them most of the time, so they’re not much help—at least until he comes along, lifts your legs, and places them in a more comfortable position.
"My legs hurt."
"Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut them off," he jokes with a mock-serious expression, bursting into laughter when you swat at him in response.
Silco (old man):
Some things you could do on your own but feel more intimate when done together. That’s why you often trot into his office with the fabric sleeve and brace in hand, handing them to him, and he gives you his shimmer syringe in return.
There’s no specific reason beyond the mental closeness and vulnerability of the act.
“Too tight?” will always be his question, even though he knows by now how to adjust it perfectly and doesn’t need to ask.
When you’re together, he’s the one to carefully remove it, stroking your leg while lost in thought.
He never sends anyone to assist you; instead, he asks if you think it would be better to have someone accompany you, making sure you reassure him if you insist you can manage alone.
Silco (Young Man):
Zaun isn’t exactly suitable for crutches or unsteady footing, so as soon as you let him know about your condition, he feels even more compelled to improve the city (or at the very least, smooth out the streets).
He’ll ask questions—few but direct—to understand what it is and how he should act.
If you drop something, he’ll be quick but subtle about picking it up and putting it somewhere easier for you to reach.
“Do you want to go home?” is the question he’ll ask you most often, even if it’s just with a look, despite you explaining multiple times that you’ll let him know if you can’t keep going.
But he knows you push yourself beyond your limits, so he worries.
At night, he’s made it a small ritual to massage your legs when you stretch them out in bed, and it actually helps relieve the tension.
Jinx:
“I can make you a mechanical one.”
When you explain what the condition is and that you don’t need a replacement leg but help for the ones you have, she starts carrying around a notebook, taking notes on the “flaws” of your aid to make you a custom version better suited to your daily life and body.
“I’ll do it!” is her go-to response for anything you need to do that she thinks takes too much effort. She doesn’t even ask; she just throws herself into it with so much enthusiasm it becomes amusing after a while.
You don’t have many intact knee braces or aids left, because according to her, they were “boring,” and she’s customized them—though they still work pretty well.
Even if she won’t admit it, she’s become even more protective of you. For example, if someone bumps into you in the street, she’s ready to jump to your defense immediately.
Vi:
She doesn’t really know how to react or respond because of how versatile the condition is. How does she figure out which days your legs won’t work and which ones they will? Or when they’ll start hurting before it’s too late?
You two agree on a small code: you tap her hand or shoulder three times rhythmically when you start to feel fatigued so that if you’re in public or with company, you don’t have to announce it to everyone if you don’t want to. She’ll immediately understand.
She’s a little scared of doing the wrong thing. She doesn’t know how to handle it and, even though she tries not to, she starts to perceive you as more fragile, moving with a fear of accidentally hurting you.
But she learns over time. She’ll simply ask more often if you need anything when she’s going to the kitchen or the store.
And when you’re cuddling, she’ll pull your legs onto hers.
Caitlyn:
She asks you to explain the condition to her—what you can and can’t do and how she can help.
She’s the ultimate advocate for your aid.
If you skip wearing it one morning because you don’t feel like it or the pain hasn’t started yet, you can bet she’ll notice and say something.
Sure, it can be a bit annoying, but considering it’s a degenerative condition, you know she’s right, so you can’t really get mad at her.
If you’re just not in the mood, she’ll put it on for you herself, with such care that you start to wonder if there’s an instruction manual she got that you didn’t.
Beyond that, she’s not overbearing. She trusts that you’ll communicate when you don’t feel like doing something, and she doesn’t presume to know your limits better than you do.
Mel:
It’s not too much of a problem, considering most of your activities together don’t involve much walking or moving due to her work.
That doesn’t stop her from taking an interest, though. At least once a week, she’ll ask you how your legs are
If they hurt, if you need different support or more comfortable shoes, or if you just need a footrest or a cushion—she’s ready and ensures everything you might need is on hand. If she can���t get it herself, she’ll send someone.
During dinners, she privately asks whoever is in charge of arranging things to provide you with a footrest and an extra cushion on your chair. If you tell her it’s unnecessary, her response will be, “Can’t I spoil my partner a little?”
She knows you’ll let her know if you’re having issues, but she takes all the necessary precautions to ensure no problems arise in the first place.
Sevika:
Again, tell her something she doesn’t know.
The difference between your legs and her arm—besides the fact that yours are still intact—is that they require less messy and time-consuming maintenance than hers. So not only does she not mind helping, but she hardly even notices.
She won’t ask if you need anything unless you say so or show explicit signs of struggling. It’s a deliberate choice to avoid making you feel like she thinks you’re not independent or capable.
On the couch or in bed, she’ll have you rest your legs on hers and prop you up with cushions behind your back, making sure you’re fully supported.
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ohsc · 4 months ago
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₊˚⊹♡ assistance | sam winchester x reader
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a/n - not for kinktober just a fic i wanted to get out!! i’m unsure whether i like the dialogue on this im sorry if it sucks i feel i can never write dirty talk right *sobs* but i really hope you enjoy!!! <3
cws - fem!reader, 2k, nsfw 18+, phone sex, mutual masturbation, kind of softdom!sam, long distance, fluff, comfort, kinda unedited
other fics can be found on my masterlist
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It was later than he’d liked by the time he finally got back to the motel. With muscles that ached from the day’s strain, brain fogged from how tired he was, Sam honestly just wanted to call his girlfriend and talk to her until he fell asleep.
He’d meant to text her a couple of hours prior to let her know the hunt was dragging on longer than expected, but his phone had fucking died when he and Dean were two hours into their trek into the woods to find the pack of werewolves they were hunting, and he’d been pretty miserable ever since.
Dean had disappeared off to the nearest bar after dropping Sam off at their room so he thankfully had the place to himself to mope around as he plugged his phone into the charger and showered whilst he waited for it to get some power. The shitty water pressure and barely lukewarm water did nothing for his aching back, so he was even more agitated by the time he got himself settled onto the uncomfortable mattress twenty minutes later, hair wet and skin still damp beneath his clothes with his eagerness to call her.
As much as he hated being away from her for so long, and too often, it was the safest thing to do. Sam wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to her because she was too close to his shit. He still had dreams about Jess, about how that was all his fault. He couldn’t let it happen again.
His phone hadn’t even reached twenty percent but he was impatient and shuffled over to the edge of the bed so the phone cord would reach and held the phone to his ear as he called her, propped himself up against the headboard.
The phone didn’t even ring twice before she answered.
“Sam?”
“Hey, baby.” The words came out in an exhale, most of the tension left him just at the sound of her voice, the ache seeping out of his bones like a relief. It was what kept him sane whenever he was away. Her picture in his wallet, her hair tie on his wrist, her voice in his ear.
“Hi, Sammy. Got worried when you didn’t call on time.”
He winced at the thought. She worried for him, of course she did. Sam understood how horrible it must have felt for her, knowing what he was going off to do. He could only imagine the dread that must’ve curled inside of her whenever he was late calling. Too many things had happened in the past, too many things could still go wrong.
“Sorry, my phone died when we were still out, didn’t get back until way later than I thought,” he groaned, sank down the headboard a little to stretch out on the bed. The agitation still hadn’t quite left him, the stiffness in his muscles prominent. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with her in his arms and he couldn’t have it. “Miss you, honey.”
He could hear the smile in her voice as she responded, “Missed you more. Wish you were here, it’s cold at night without you in bed too.”
He snorted a quiet laugh. “That’s why you miss me?”
“Mhm,” she giggled, though her voice turned a little coy as she murmured, “among other reasons.”
“Yeah?” An automatic smile was curling at his mouth.
Another little giggle through the receiver. He didn’t even need to see her to know that she had that little bashful smile on her face. He also knew exactly what was on her mind, it was on his too.
It wasn’t the first time they’d have done this. He was on the road so often that their sex life wasn’t as amazing as it could have been, and it wasn’t like he didn’t pleasure himself when he was away on hunts anyways.
There had been many many evenings he’d spent in the shower, hot water rolling down his back as he had one hand pressed to the tiled wall whilst the other pumped his cock until his cum was washed down the drain along with his shampoo bubbles. It wasn’t ideal — bottom lip tucked between his teeth to stifle the heaving breaths and quiet groans, trying to get off as fast as he could before the hot water could run out or Dean could get back to the room. It was even worse when it became a result of having her on the phone. There had been many occasions where her soft voice and giggles in his ear had been enough to get him hard, on nights when he was really missing her and it had just been too long since he’d kissed her.
It turned out she did the same as him. Though when Sam pictured it, it was a lot more graceful than his time in the shower. Laid out all pretty on their bed, legs spread, fingers wet with her own arousal as her head tipped back against the pillows. Sometimes if he got a little selfish he pictured her voice all whimpery saying his name as she came, but he couldn’t get lost in that daydream often, or he’d get hard over that, too.
“Miss you,” she breathed again, and the shift in her tone was palpable. “I… I tried touching myself earlier but I couldn’t cum without you on the phone.”
The groan that left him was automatic and his cock throbbed, hardening beneath the material of his boxers. The idea that she couldn’t even get off without his voice in her ear did wonders for him, it was a wonder his ego wasn’t too big already.
“You need my help, honey?” He crooned into the phone, settled into the tone of voice he knew she liked to hear, the voice he used more often than not when he was whispering in her ear, hips slotted between her thighs, rolling in a rhythm that left her whiney and panting.
Her soft little “mhm” was enough for him to move his other hand down and palm himself, hissing in a breath through his teeth.
“Go ahead and lay down for me, pretty girl. Wanna tell me what you’re wearing?”
There was the rustling of sheets over the phone before her voice spoke up again, “Just one of your shirts.”
Another groan. “You trying to kill me, baby?”
She giggled and his cock twitched beneath his palm. Jesus Christ he needed to get back to her, he needed her in person, to sate the need that wouldn’t be doused thoroughly enough over the phone.
“Go ahead and spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he breathed, palming his cock again as he spoke, eyes squeezing shut as his head knocked back against the headboard. “Did you get yourself all worked up earlier, hm? Are you all soaked already?”
There was another hum, though he could hear the way her breathing had deepened, deep and heavy in his ear. He could picture the tickle of her breath on his face, the shape of her lips, the taste of her mouth after she’d just brushed her teeth. He needed her.
“Why don’t you start touching yourself for me?” He murmured, voice low with his arousal. Her resounding moan was enough for his cock to throb again and his hand finally dipped beneath his waistband, freeing himself with a quiet groan.
“Are you touching yourself too?” She whimpered, and it was a miracle he didn’t just cum there and then.
“Yeah,” his hand lifted and he tipped his head down to spit into his palm, groaning softly the next time he pumped his cock. “Yeah I am, dolly. Your pretty voice got me all worked up— fuck.” He breathed out the word between his teeth. He was already leaking pre-cum, thumbing over the head of his cock in a move that made him shudder, though it felt nice when she did it. Stroked his cock with her pretty hands, her pretty lips that wrapped around his head when she was on her knees for him, licking along the length of his dick in a way that always made him weak in the knees.
She moaned again and his hips jerked, rutting into his hand with a filthy groan. “How’re you feeling, honey?”
She whimpered, and Sam felt another dribble of pre-cum slide down the length of his cock. “Good— mm, good, j’st—” she took in a shaky breath, “feels better when it’s you, baby.”
“Oh yeah?” He grunted, pumping his cock just a little faster. “Why’s that, dolly?”
“Bigger hands,” she breathed. “longer fingers.”
Sam moaned, the idea of his fingers nestled deep in her wet heat enough for his cock to throb in his hand, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. But from the sounds of her pretty little whimpers, neither would she. “Can’t fill that pretty pussy up as nice as I can, hm?” He took in a shuddering breath. “Play with your clit for me, sweetheart.”
He could hear the moment she did, the sharp inhale, the whimpery moan, the rustling of the sheets as she, undoubtedly, spread her legs wider. “Oh god, Sammy—”
“Are you close, sweetheart?”
All he got in response was a high-pitched “uh-huh.”
“That’s it— shit, that’s it, baby,” he panted, pumping his cock faster, moaning softly as his head arched back. “Go on, dolly, make some pretty sounds for me as you cum, won’t you? M’gonna cum just thinking about you making such a mess of yourself, c’mon, baby—” he was practically begging between sharp breaths.
It only took a moment before he heard her sharp inhale and the whine that followed, and all it took was a few more quick ruts into his hand and the sounds of her before he groaned her name, toes curled and eyelids scrunched as he came. He could feel the evidence of his orgasm dribbling down his cock and his fingers as he shucked a few more times, hissing through his teeth as he finally stopped.
“Oh sweetheart,” he breathed, panting, not unlike her heavy breaths into the phone. “You sounded so fucking pretty, honey. That feel good for you?”
She took a shuddery breath and hummed again. “Yeah, thanks baby.”
Sam couldn’t help the breathy chuckle. “Don’t need to thank me,” he murmured. “M’always gonna take care of my girl, even if I’m not there. You made quite a mess of me, too.”
She breathed a laugh, and a moment passed of just their shared breathing as they both calmed down. Sam’s cock had softened completely against his abdomen, and he’d have to change his clothes and have another shower, but fuck was it worth it.
“I’ll be on my way back to you tomorrow,” he promised once his breathing had mostly evened out. “Should be with you before dinner, then you get me all to yourself.”
She yawned into the phone before mumbling, “Good, want you back to me as soon as possible.”
The sound of her so sleepy just left him so soft. “I promise I will be,” he breathed. “Why don’t you get some sleep, okay honey? I’ll call you in the morning when we’re on the road.”
“Okay,” her voice had completely softened, coated in a sickly-sweet fondness that left him putty in her hands. “I love you. Get back to me safe, okay?”
“I always do,” Sam smiled. “I love you too. Night, gorgeous.”
She yawned her own goodbye before the line went dead, and he let the phone drop back down onto the mattress with a heavy breath.
Just one more day, then he could have her in person, help her in all the ways he wanted to on the phone.
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supercutszns · 10 months ago
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twin beads | luke castellan
wc + pairing: 6.7k, luke x daughter of poseidon! reader
synopsis: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder. (based on this ask!)
warnings: best friends to lovers <3, percy/reader sibling dynamic, fluff and angst then fluff again, hurt/comfort, shameless making out. sorry this one is so long but besties to lovers is my lifeblood!!! i get so attached!! designated song is true blue by boygenius:)
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i. you said you wanted to feel alive, so we went to the beach
“Ahoy, sailor!”
The familiar voice ricochets across the lake. You turn, leaving glimmers of sun behind you as you stare back at the docks of Camp Half-Blood. An orange blob with a curly mop of hair is beckoning you. You laugh, wave back at him, and plunge into the water. It cools your face after staying above the surface for so long—you just love watching the light reflected off the waves. But the second you’re under the water, the soreness in your muscles, the heat on your face, the exhaustion from treading for so long, are washed away from you. You swim with precision and vigor, relishing the feel of the river cupping your limbs to spur you forward. Not to sound lame, but you fucking love swimming. 
But maybe not as much as you love your best friend. 
He laughs when your head pops out of the water at the edge of the dock. “Wow, that took you longer than usual,” he teases, brown eyes glinting in the dawn. “You getting sloppy?”
You huff, splashing some water up at him but it barely touches him. “I’m tired, you moron. I’ve been out there for an hour.”
Luke leans down at the edge of the dock, offering you a hand. His face is bemused when you latch onto him, and with a good flex of his bicep he pulls you up. “All right, c’mon,” he grunts.
All your energy evaporates the second your body’s out of the water. You’re far too lazy to be graceful, so you sprawl out onto the dock like a dying fish, letting the sun kiss every inch of you. “Eww,” Luke giggles overtop you, prodding your side with the tip of his shoe. “Get up, you mermaid.” 
“Make me, you mailman.”
Your arm drapes over your eyes, and you sigh. There really is nothing better than these moments; droplets of water soaking into your skin after an early morning swim, your best friend right beside you. 
He keeps nudging you with your shoe, over and over until your ribs start to hurt. You groan, swatting him away and stretching out your limbs with a groan, letting them pop and relax, until you blearily make your way to your feet. 
“You forgot your towel again,” Luke condones, but like always, he’s brought one for you. 
He goes through a practiced routine of drying you off, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and down your arms, across your back, scrunching the water out of your hair. It doesn’t matter how cold the water gets—this part always makes you warm. 
“Thanks,” you smile as he hands the towel off to you. “Anything interesting happen this morning, O Captain, my captain?”
“Not yet, sailor, sir,” he replies in a stuffy, gruff voice the two of you have joked around with since you were kids. “Just grabbing you for breakfast.”
You giggle, following him past the docks and to the shore. Once you’ve grabbed all your stuff, you both fall in stride and head towards your cabin, your twin five-beaded necklaces hanging over your shirts. 
Five years ago, when you got to Camp for the first time, you were as big a loser as any. You were bad at everything—everything—and had no real friends until you accidentally whacked some other friendless loser in the head with an oar when you were about to go canoeing. Luke got mad at you, but his little sister Annabeth was even more furious. He offered to be your partner for the day anyway. You’ve been partners ever since. 
Over the years the two of you have grown in status at the camp, more so Luke than you. He’s an excellent cabin leader and by far the greatest swordsman in camp. You, still unclaimed, have found solace in giving younger campers swimming lessons and wading out there on your own till you get sunstroke. (It’s happened a few times. Luke is never pleased, but also refuses to let the Apollo campers take care of you. He nurses you back to health with ice cream and horrible gossip.)
But every night you return to the Hermes cabin with a hollowness in your chest. One bunk emptied, then immediately filled. You’ve had the same one for five years, and the only condolence is that it’s right next to Luke’s, and sometimes you spend hours at night making faces at each other till your laughter endangers other people’s sleep. 
Yes, you love the water at Camp Half-Blood, but you love Luke most. 
Rumours of a new kid are rustling at camp. You haven’t seen him, but you’re just dying to get in on the gossip. Apparently he slayed a minotaur. Apparently Annabeth has seen him. And apparently he’s unclaimed. You hate to admit it, but this is the most exciting news you’ve heard in weeks!
Your afternoon is spent giving some swimming lessons and taking some Demeter campers canoeing. (Some of them freak out on the water. so it’s a nice challenge to untangle the sea plants they get hooked around their boat.) It feels like you’ve been here forever. A break is in desperate demand right now. 
You have no idea what kind of God heard your prayers, but your fellow counsellor has an unimpressed look on her face when she taps you on the shoulder and goes, “Your friend’s calling you.” 
The way she says it is almost degrading. You turn to look back at the shore to see the dark curly hair you’d spot a mile away. Next to him is a much shorter orange blob, shuffling awkwardly as Luke attempts to flag you down. Score!
You shoot an apologetic look at her. “Uh … I’ll be right back.” You wince, already disposing of your baggy orange shirt (it’s Luke’s) with your bathing suit underneath. 
“No you won’t,” she says dryly. “Just go.”
You flash a smile you hope is loaded with charm, and you’re off into water. As you swim, the only thing on your mind is I really really hope that’s the new kid, and I wonder what Luke’s face looks like right now. (He’s probably grinning, eyes crinkled at the sides as he tries to follow your figure beneath the waves. Maybe he’s doing that cute thing where his head tilts to the side as he watches.) 
When you’re close enough to the shore, you come out of the water, wringing your hair. “Hey, guys!” It’s Luke, Chris, and some blonde kid you’re sure is the new one. “What’s up?”
Luke is about to say something, then he frowns. “Where’s my shirt?”
“Left it in the canoe, I’ll go back for it later,” you reply, limply gesturing behind you. 
“And where’s your towel?”  
“Okay, I did bring one this time!” You counter. “I just gave it to a little Ares kid ‘cause she forgot hers.” 
Luke clicks his tongue, shakes his head at you, but of course he’s got one in his hands so what’s the worry? He’s endearingly amused when you take the cloth and dry yourself off, and the new boy, having watched this all raptly, widens his eyes and drawls, “Ohhhh, so you’re his gi—”
“This is Camp’s resident mermaid, Percy.” Chris butts in, adding your name almost as an afterthought. 
After you fasten your towel around you, you’re put off by Percy’s scrutinizing stare. “Look, it’s been a pretty weird day so I cannot tell if you’re joking or not.” 
“I’m not a mermaid,” you snipe, throwing Chris a dirty look. “People just call me that because I give swimming lessons here.” You stick your hand out to the blonde boy. “Nice to meet you, Percy.” 
He gives a polite nod, a little awkward. “Right back at ya.” The two of you study each other as you shake. He’s young, probably about twelve, a smatter of freckles across his face. His eyes look like the lake. Something itches in the back of your brain. There’s a moment where the shake is suspended, neither of you have let go but are no longer actively holding on, and you see it in his face that he’s studying you, too. Huh.
The conversation continues as normal, but you almost start to feel queasy for a second. “We’re trying to find something Percy’s good at,” Luke says with a pat on Percy’s shoulder. “You got any ideas?”
“Yes, please, because I really would like to have a word with my father,” Percy clips. “Is Glory, like, purely a skill thing or can I get some if I tie someone else’s shoes or something?” 
“I don’t have shoes,” you add unhelpfully. 
“It’s okay, dude,” Luke squeezes Percy’s shoulder. “Camp is great, no matter where you end up.”
Even if you’re like her, he means without saying. Even if you don’t end up anywhere. 
You meet Luke’s eyes. This is a kid that wants so badly to meet his father, to ease the ache inside him. You are the absolute worst person for this. One of the longest current unclaimed streaks and your ache remains. To Percy, you’re the biggest example of a failure there is, and Luke is only just now realizing it. 
“Maybe try the infirmary?” You pipe, shuffling back and forth on the sand. “You might have a knack for medicine.”
“Doubt it,” Percy swallows. “But yeah, okay. Who’s your parent, again?”
Percy can’t see it, but Luke and Chris send you a shifty look and all you can do is widen your eyes to be like, Help! Don’t make me crush his dreams! I don’t want another kid to hate me! 
You swallow. No matter how fast you think, you cannot come to a logical sentence. “I, uh—”
Just then, in another stroke of luck (wow, that’s two more than usual) an Athena counsellor that looks insanely disgruntled is running towards you. “Stolls put spiders in our cabin again,” he heaves once at a stop. “Please get rid of them.”
“Can’t you just squash ‘em?” Percy asks. 
“Not the spiders, the twins.” 
Chris is already nodding, but Luke looks to you first. He’s anxious, disappointed. You wish you could smooth out the creases in his brow with your thumb. “Don’t worry,” you stretch out a smile. “I’ll chill with Percy. It won’t take you guys too long.”
He’s still hesitant. You’re not sure this is a good call either. But he reaches out, quickly squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “Thank you.” Your skin feels gooey when he touches it. 
His signature roguish smile returns as he looks back to Percy. The side of his face is shadowed by the sun so well it makes you jealous. “Don’t give her a hard time, eh?” He reprimands playfully. 
Percy smiles a little. “I’ll try not to.”
You are once again reminded just how easy it is to love Luke. How effortlessly he moves into your heart. It happened to you after you slapped him with an oar. It’s already happening to Percy.
You’re sure he won’t like you nearly half as much. 
After Luke and Chris leave, Percy resigns to staring out at the campers canoeing on the lake. Maybe now is a good time to admit you’re not good with kids. Luke has tried many times to make you his welcome partner, but you can’t take to the role nearly as well. You’re perpetually antsy. And sweaty. 
“So, what cabin are you a part of that lets you do this all day?” Percy asks, squinting against the sun. 
Your heart gets heavy. With a sigh, you sit yourself down, and Percy soon follows. “Hermes, actually,” you say as casually as you can. 
Percy goes pale as a sheet. “Uh, what?”
“I’m unclaimed,” you clarify. “I don’t … I don’t have a parent.”
There’s always a pitiful pause whenever a camper figures that out. This one is somehow … clunkier. “Oh,” Percy says. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense. For a second I thought—phew.” Then his eyes trail down to the thread hooked around your fingers, the five beads you run your thumb over. “How long have you been here?”
“Five long, blissful years,” you hum dryly. 
Water ripples over pebbles on the shore. Every new camper’s ambition is eroded by the truth you represent. Percy’s no different. His brows furrow and his face falls. “And you’ve never been claimed?” He asks, and you can feel the noxious mix of pity, confusion and despair laced beneath it. 
You shake your head, watching some Demeter kids splashing each other’s canoes with their oars. “Nope. But it’s not so bad. I like my cabin, you know? I like my life. Doesn’t really matter who your parents are anyway, I think. You do the same activities as everyone else, just on different teams.”
“But doesn’t it make you mad?”
“It used to,” you shrug, “But not anymore. It’s just …” You sigh, rolling a bead against your thumb. “If I’m unclaimed, I’m unclaimed. That’s the way it is. You can’t force the Gods to do anything.” 
“That’s what Luke said,” Percy remarks, almost bitterly. 
“I’m a rare case though, Percy,” you half-lie to him, nudging him a bit with your shoulder. “You’ll get claimed. It’s your first day. And until then you’re kind of free to be whatever. You don’t have to fit into anything, which is kinda nice, and you can screw around as much as you want and nobody can really get mad at you ‘cause you’re new.” A smile rises on your face. “And I heard you killed a minotaur, so you’ve already got some cool points.”
His face screws up in a grimace, and it makes you laugh. “Oh joy, cool points. Can’t live without those.”
Okay, maybe you’re not bad with kids. Maybe you’re just bad with boring kids. Because this is going decent, right? 
“What if I don’t get claimed, though?” Percy asks after a moment, a vulnerable note eclipsing him. It resonates inside your chest. You pause for a moment, heaving a loaded breath. 
“Do you fart a lot in your sleep?”
His melancholy pauses. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Uh … what? No? I think?”
“Then you can take the bunk above mine if you want. It’s empty now,” you say. “And if you’re never claimed you can come swimming with me, and we can find seashells to put under Luke’s pillow every night until he starts thinking they’ve always been there.”
Percy blinks. “Do you have any friends?”
“Yes, and I’m going to torture him until I die. Cabin eleven is oodles of fun, Percy, you’ll see!”
He looks a little horrified. “Luke said I was going to like you,” he mutters. “I … am not sure if he’s right.”
Oh, well. You’ll take it. 
ii. you can't help but become the sun
You can’t sleep, and Luke knows it. His eyes burn into the side of your face as you stare up at your bunk. You sneak him a look. He smiles ruefully. Sweeping his arm up from beneath his covers, a makeshift tent is formed next to him. He nods to you. Before you know it, you’ve abandoned your own bed, taking a single step until you skirt into the pocket of his mattress Luke has carved for you. He lets the sheets fall, cocooning you with him the way he always does. 
You’ve been sharing beds on occasion for years. One of you gets cold, has a nightmare, or wants to talk until your mind fades out, the only solution is a place next to each other. Whispers against cheeks, giggles muffled into pillows, necklaces knocking together. You used to be further apart. Now you can’t remember the last time Luke hasn’t latched onto you the second you’re within reach. It warms you a little more each time. 
When your head hits his pillow, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, lips pursed in amusement. His face is so wildly nostalgic to you—five years seems like too short a time to have known him. His eyes are pitch-dark and soft with exhaustion, but you can still pick out the trademark Hermes mirth glimmering through. You sometimes forget his scar, probably because you know he wants you to forget it. He’d kill you for thinking this, but you kind of like the way it hugs the curve of his cheek, bunches up when his dimple appears. It makes you sad. It makes you happy. It makes you love him. 
“Percy likes you,” he whispers, opening himself up so your chin brushes his shoulder. “That’s a first.”
He’s only wearing a tank top to sleep, so his warmth seeps through his skin when you tap him on the chest. “Shut up!” You hiss back, tapering into a giggle. “Has he picked up on anything yet?”
Luke bites the inside of his cheek, regretfully shaking his head. “Nope. But all that skill stuff is kinda arbitrary anyways. He’s still hung up on kleos, though, so … that’ll come in handy for Capture the Flag.”
“Ah, yes. Using a child’s misguided need for fulfilment as a weapon. A camp classic.” 
“Well someone’s gotta be useful for Capture the Flag in this cabin and it sure as hell isn’t you, mermaid,” he barbs back. 
Your jaw drops in mock offense and you squeeze a hand around his shoulder to shake him. “I will put you in a headlock right now, Luke, I’ll break your arm—”
“Be quiet!” He giggles as you attempt to wrangle yourself on top of him. “I’ll be nice to you, I’ll be nice, stop!” You get absolutely nowhere before the bed creaks and Luke shoves you back down. Your pulse rattles through your mouth as you laugh silently. “You’re the worst,” he mutters in your ear, raising the hairs on your neck.
“Well Percy likes me, so,” you turn your nose to the sky like a haughty old lady. 
“Percy’s a funnier, less annoying version of you,” he pokes your side. “That’s how I knew you’d get along, you weirdo.”
The momentary adrenaline this conversation has brought you is mellowing. “Hey, I’m very—very funny,” you mumble through a yawn. 
Luke laughs quietly. “Sure you are.”
He pulls you back to him, arm slung around the dip of your waist. When you make no protest, he seals you against his shoulder again. It’s started to feel a little different, him holding you like this. There’s an uncertainty your body faces about how to respond. His thumb runs over your spine and you decide to relax into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Your chin knocks against his collarbone and you have the urge to curl yourself against his chest, just to feel him breathe. 
“Get some sleep, sailor,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Your cheeks warm, and you bury yourself even further into the space against his shoulder and his pillow. Gods, there’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?
“Will do, soldier.” The campy voice you do is half hearted at best as you find yourself absorbed in the closest thing to a full home you’ll ever get. In this sleepy hollow with bedsheets and a boy, there is acceptance. 
Well, mostly. You think you dream about Luke brushing a kiss along your hairline in your last bit of consciousness. You think you wish it was real. You think you want him to do it again.   
iii. when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out
The last time your cabin lost a game of Capture the Flag, you’d still been taller than Luke. That’s how long your winning streak has felt. There’s no reason you foresee that changing today. Even when Annabeth drags Percy along with her on whatever surely precarious quest to victory she’s created. It’s unlike her, to bring a newbie along. It’s concerning. 
“He’s fine,” Luke drawls to you when your face has been tense for twenty minutes. “Annabeth’s got a plan.” He’s a little winded after clearing out some Ares kids with Chris. You aren’t much use when it comes to weapons—your friends take the lead as you wait from a distance, ready for backup. Thank the Gods they didn’t need it this time. You’re content to just watch, but whenever Luke grins after getting another kid to surrender, veins in his arms raised like rivers on a map, you get a little distracted and you’re not sure why. 
You just huff back at him, totally normal when he wipes a sheen of sweat off his jaw. “Annabeth’s gonna use him as cannon fodder,” you mutter back, and Luke hits your arm with an appalled grin. 
Annabeth did, in fact, have a plan. So you won. Obviously. 
You’re still doubtful Percy wasn’t cannon fodder, though, with how beat up he looks on the shoreline when the rest of your team flocks to the stolen flag to claim victory. He’s slumped down on the rocky shore, a few equally beaten Ares kids straggling away from him. 
“So I was right, huh?” Luke hums in your ear, pulling your eyes to him. 
He’s revelling in newfound glory, and damn it, you get confused when you look at him when he’s like this. You’re not sure when it happened but you want to tear your heart out of its chest because of how sick it makes you. Some of his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hair suffering a serious case of helmet-head. But it’s the pride oozing off him, the infectious happiness laced through his smile, that makes you fond of him in a way you’re not sure you should be. He’s beloved for a reason—he looks almost prophetic after winning a match, and he knows it. A glaring difference between the gangly boy you met all those summers ago. If you weren’t his best friend, you’d probably be one of his many admirers, watching his teammates fawn over his talent and wishing you were beside him. 
But you are beside him. And you’re his friend. Not an admirer. So everything’s fine. 
“You wouldn’t be saying that if we lost,” you retort, knocking your chestplate against his. It’s meant to be a friendly nudge, but Luke leans into it until you swear you feel his heart beating through the metal. 
He’s grown into his smile, less boyish and more wry. “You know I never lose, sailor.” 
You want to reply, but his eyes are startlingly pretty in the sunlight. That’s normal. Whatever. A heat rises in the apples of your cheeks so you scoff lightly and turn away as soon as possible. You feel Luke’s gaze following as you turn attention elsewhere. Your sternum feels fluttery.
Percy catches your attention again. Gods, he looks beat. He’s talking to Annabeth as she helps him up, and you see the gnarly scrape marring his cheek. You should probably check on him, right? 
You’re halfway to the kids when Annabeth shoves Percy backwards into the water. Like, shoves. 
“Annabeth!” You’re scowling at her the same way she scowled at you when you first hit Luke with that oar, rushing over to help Percy. 
“What is wrong with you?” Percy sputters out lying in the lake, but you’re ankles-deep in the water before you know it. He’s glaring daggers at Annabeth, but she looks relatively unimpressed. What happened during this game? 
“Thanks,” Percy mutters as you help him up. 
You say something to shrug it off but you can’t remember what, because your eyes are drawn to the scrape on his cheek. You have to blink a few times to get it, but you’re pretty sure it’s dissolving. Vanishing off his skin. “What the hell?”
Everyone on the shore is watching him now, trying to memorize his injuries before they wash away. Percy’s staring down at himself like he’s just been body-swapped. “I don’t understand.” 
You’ve never seen anything like this before. The strangest feeling fuels you—your bones feel firmer somehow, like the blood inside your body has weight to it. Like something is happening. A fear pierces your gut. 
Annabeth’s eyes have raised, and so have Percy’s. Your mouth goes dry. Right above him is the symbol of a trident, radiating so blue it washes out the sky itself. 
The claiming symbol of Poseidon. 
“Your dad’s calling,” Annabeth says, a smile itching the corners of her mouth. 
Percy looks like he’s going to pass out. You probably do too. “Told you you’d get claimed,” you manage to squeeze the words through the knot in your chest. 
You’re smiling until Percy looks at you, then looks up. His face goes white as a sheet. Or, as white as it can bathed in a pale blue glow. “Uh…” He blinks slowly, and your stomach twists. “I think she was talking to you.”
When you look up and see an identical trident looming over your head, you know something’s wrong. It’s made worse when Chiron rings out your and Percy’s name, branding you as children of Poseidon. 
Poseidon. 
You have a father. And he’s known you all this time. Your ears hollow out like a rush of water in a cavern.
Luke is the first to kneel. The rest of the camp follows. You watch as the entire camp basks in the glory of newcomer Percy Jackson, so quickly claimed by one of the most powerful Gods of Olympus. And you, who has waited five years to earn even a shred of his favour. 
This thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly the greatest insult in the world. Your best friend can’t even meet your eyes. 
iv. i remember who i am when i'm with you
You stare at Percy as he unpacks his things. Waiting to see traces of yourself in his face, traces of your father. Anything that could give you an inkling of what he looks like. Of what you look like. Of how this happened in the first place. 
It’s a futile search. Percy’s blue eyes, his freckles, the bridge of his nose, they’re all … nothing. Half of you is half of him, but there’s no indication of which parts. The cabin is cold. You’re not going to sleep well without Luke nearby. You’re not going to sleep well ever again. 
You feel nothing but strife, your throat closing in every time you take even a second to think. You don’t want Percy to see you cry. So you do what you always do. 
This has to be in the running for most overwhelming day of all time ever. Even when submerged in your favourite place on earth, you can’t get away from your dad. Your dumb stupid dad that has made the things you love and has ruined your life. 
You swim hard, and you loathe how good it feels. At least you know why now, but that doesn’t do much to ease you. When you pop up again, the sun has started to sink into the sea. And Gods, you have to give your dad credit. The landscape is so gorgeous you almost forget how long he’s ignored you. 
You wonder if this is the last time you’ll find solace in the lake. If eventually, it’ll be nothing but an extension of your father’s neglect. 
The water ripples around you. You frown, barely having noticed it when someone taps your shoulder. You turn. “Luke?” You swallow, but why are you surprised? 
He’s panting, cheeks splotched with sun as he treads water, droplets worming down his face from his soaking curls. “Been looking for you,” he puffs, “Percy’s worried. Called you from the—from the thingie but don’t think you heard me.”
You assume he means the docks, but you don’t say anything as he takes a deep, grounding breath. “You’ve been out here for hours. Hours. For a second I thought you drowned.”
“Now we know that can’t fucking happen,” you mutter a touch too bitterly, staring down at your legs warped beneath the water. 
Luke’s silent as he watches you. “…Have you been crying?”
When you don’t reply, Luke tugs on your wrist. “C’mon, sailor, let’s go.”
“Not tired,” you say, frozen by the hot tears brimming on your lashes. 
“I’m not leaving you out here. Come on.” He frowns when you yank your hand away as he tries pulling you again. “You’re gonna get heatstroke.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
He reaches for you again and you try to reject it for a moment, but he’s stronger than you, and he loves you better than even the water could. The second he has you close your resolve falters. He holds you against his shoulder, knees knocking against yours as you tread. 
“It’s okay,” he croons when you involuntarily start to cry. For a Poseidon kid, you can’t seem to control your waterworks. “It’s okay, I know.”
His hand cards through your scalp and you relish in the warmth of his bare skin on your cheek. He smells like comfort. You cling to it with all you have, until your nails start to dig into his skin and your eyesight blurs. 
“Come back with me and I’ll dry you off, okay?” He kisses the top of your head, the way you dreamed it last night. “I’ll take care of it.”
You’re not sure which it he’s referring to, because it could honestly apply to anything. When you both set off for shore, you’re so distracted by your own misery that Luke’s actually able to keep up with you. He��s up on the dock before you so he can pull you out. 
The second you’re out of the water you feel like you’ve been gutted with a lead pipe. All the energy it gave you leaves, and you realize just how right Luke was about spending too much time out there. You can’t feel your legs. 
You buckle over almost instantly, but Luke holds you before you can even think of falling. “I’ve got you,” he assures, guiding you down to sit on the dock. Your eyes are too weak to even admire the sunset. Luke drapes a towel over your shoulders, rubbing it over your arms, a welcome familiarity. He takes his time, wringing your hair and drying your back as you gaze blankly ahead. There’s a tenderness to it now. Luke’s ruthless when it comes to a lot of things. When it comes to how he loves, too. But there’s nothing demanding here. He lets your tears fall in silence, undisturbed, the touch of his hands through the cloth a silent promise. 
When you’re fairly dry, he fetches something then quickly comes back. “Here.”
It’s his shirt. You only notice you’ve been shivering as he pulls it over your head, lets you fill in the sleeves, gently gathers your hair back. “Thanks,” you say. His fingertips brush your neck as he hooks them around your necklace to rest it over the shirt. You think he does it to remind you you’re still the same. You’ve had five years together. It doesn’t have to end now. 
“Why did it take him so long?” You struggle to say, eyes glossed like sea glass. “Why—why now? What did I do?”
Luke puts an arm around you. “I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly. 
You sink into his warmth like a wave meets the shore. “Five years, Luke. He ignored me for five years. And he takes Percy right—right away.” It’s hard not to choke between every word. “I just thought I’d never get claimed, and I was fine with that, and now I’m … this!”
Its hard to tell if the dampness of your cheeks are the remnants of saltwater or your tears. “I don’t want this,” you sniffle. “I waited so long … and I just don’t want it.”
Luke rubs your shoulder, lips pursed against your head. He murmurs into your hair, “I know, sailor. It’ll be okay. Promise.”
His voice is reserved. You look up at him. His jaw is resolute, his eyes red-rimmed in a way you hadn’t noticed before. “You’re upset too,” you comment quietly. 
He laughs listlessly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m losing my favourite cabin mate.”
You sniff and try to smile. “Percy?”
He rolls his eyes fondly, and it feels like all you want. He squeezes your shoulders tight and you long desperately to be closer. “I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into him. “Why didn’t he see me until he saw Percy? Am I just … unremarkable or something?”
“No, no. Absolutely not—c’mere.” Luke loops an arm around your waist and manoeuvres you into his arms, cradled on his lap so you can bury your face in his neck. You can’t stop fucking crying, but his patience for you is infinite. “You are by far the most remarkable person I know.” He seals you against his chest, scratching your scalp the way he knows you like. “None of this is you, okay? Your dad’s an idiot. You are—you’re everything. They’re all mindless up there, they don’t know how to love you. They don’t deserve to.”
An edge seeps into his timbre that gives you pause. You feel weak, discarded. It sounds like he’s talking about a different person. But he’s right. He has to be, because he knows you better than you know yourself.
Luke keeps going. You peek at his face when he speaks. Stubborn as ever. “He doesn’t have any fucking right to you. If he wanted that he should’ve claimed you when you got here. You have a life. You … you had a home. And now just because he’s got another kid he kills two birds with one stone? He pretends like this is some Godly intervention? Like he didn’t ignore you the whole time you’ve been here because he couldn’t stand how much you didn’t need him? How much better you are? You’re my …” He struggles, brows furrowed, the sun melting in his eyes. “You’re my best friend, and we’re supposed to be together. He’s not allowed to take that from you.”
Your heart stirs. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you try to tease.
Luke heaves a sigh, his muscles rippling against your chest. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he’s got no shirt on. And that he’s pressed against you in a way that makes you question if you should be this close. Beads of water cling to the divots in his skin, and you linger a little too long on one nestled in his collarbone. You swear you think this every time he goes swimming with you: when did he get so … hot? And every time you think it, you want to gouge your heart out with a spoon. 
“Can you blame me?” A melancholy smile plays on his face. “I liked having you all to myself.”
Tears spring to your eyes all over again. “I liked that too.”
It’s a whisper that sends you forward, Luke bringing his forehead to your own, and you want to live in the warmth that coils through you. His nose catches against yours when he laughs, but he doesn’t move. You take a moment to savour it. You think he does too.
He wipes a tear off your face as you say, “I’m still yours.”
“Yeah?” Luke hums a bit, his hand sliding up your waist in a most unfriendly manner. “How?” 
You catch the glimmer in his eyes, that plucky smile he’s had since fourteen. Something shifts.
“What are you asking me, Luke?” You can’t fight the smile. 
“What do you want me to ask you?”
“I dunno, what do you want me to want you to ask you—”
“My Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”
He groans, throws his head back, and kisses you like you aren’t the most annoying person in the world. 
It’s so cliché, but for a brief moment your strife is well worth it. You yank him closer before he pulls away. It’s a little unsure, the two of you so used to toeing the line, but soon you’ve given in and your hands are in his hair, mouths parting, and it’s messy and wanting and everything you need. 
Luke slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, palms flattening against your sun-beaten skin. It feels so good, better because the shirt is already his, a whine scratching your throat as he moves up so his thumbs graze the skin beneath the tie in your bathing suit. 
“Oh, sailor,” he coos against your mouth. You want to retaliate but it’s lost when he squeezes your thighs, warming you in all the right places. It’s hard to understand this is even happening—it feels like you’re underwater, a blissful fuzziness growing in your head entirely at his mercy. 
He razes kisses down your still-damp neck, catching pearls of water on his tongue. You cling to his shoulders, raking your hands down his back just so you can feel more of him. Luke’s dropped down to your collarbone at this point, tugging the neck of your shirt down as his teeth graze the bone. “You’re my best friend,” he mutters over your skin. “Still mine. Always mine.”
“Mmhm,” is all you can say back, the husk in his voice making your eyes screw shut. He teases a spot so sensitive you groan and laugh at the same time. The regret is immediate, but you feel a chuckle pass his lips, too. “Luke,” you purse a smile. He dots kisses back up your neck until you start returning the favour. 
You kiss his jaw, a few spots on his neck, feeling the flex of his muscle all around you as he squeezes the fat of your hips. You finally sweep up the water in the hollow of his collarbones, and his grunt of your name makes you, frankly, delirious. 
He brings your mouth back to his, skin sticking to each other. It’s harder to kiss as fervently when you’re both giggling against each other’s tongues, running fingers along the planes of each other’s bodies trying to see which places feel new and which are known from memory. It’s a fifty-fifty split, and you love it. 
Somewhere along the way he peeled off your shirt because it was clinging in places you knew he wanted, but now you’re panting and giggling into his hair, his nose pressed into your neck, both of you melded together with salt and sun. “You really know how to cheer a girl up, mailman,” you grin. 
His lips fix to your skin. “Really? You’re still gonna call me that right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Like it better when you call me captain,” he murmurs, nose grazing along your pulse. 
You swallow, “That doesn’t work unless we’re doing the whole sailor-ship bit.”
“We’re always doing the sailor-ship bit.”
“I seriously can’t believe I’m in love with you.”
He sighs warmly at the words. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying for you to say that. Even though I knew you would.”
You roll your eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, and you’re more glad than ever that his face is the one you love so much. It’s a pretty great face. 
“You’re gonna be okay,” he says tenderly. “You’re too incredible for Poseidon. You’re worth more than that.”
He still looks gorgeous blurred by your tears. You listen to the beat of his heart and the waves rolling. “More than any water anywhere?”
“More than the fucking Styx, sailor. I’ll promise you that.”
That night, Luke stays with you and Percy in your cold chapel of a cabin. You exchange stories until Percy falls asleep in his bed, curled up like a sea otter. “He’s a drooler,” Luke notes fondly, eyes flicking to yours. “Like you.”
You shove his chest playfully until he wraps his arms around you and anchors you to sleep, like every night before. This time, as you drift off, he kisses your forehead again. Once because he loves you, and twice to make sure you know it’s real. 
luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz @ash-williamsss @sucker-4-angst @kitkat-writes-stuff @too-deviant
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milkloafy · 7 months ago
Text
WE FIGHT AND MAKE UP — ALHAITHAM
⋆。˚ ❀ summary: you and alhaitham get into a heated argument and give each other the cold shoulder. at night, you sleep on the couch and alhaitham comes out to find you. ⋆。˚ ❀ contents: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, kaveh cameo ⋆。˚ ❀ wc: 0.9k+ ⋆。˚ ❀ a/n: this little drabble has made me fall in love with alhaitham i am currently commissioning some selfship art as we speak i love this man pls enjoy if ur a fellow alhaitham lover :>
It wasn’t often you and Alhaitham truly fought. But the few times you did, it usually started with abnormally raised voices and ended in silent treatment that lasted late into the night.
At a certain point in time, the silent treatment would go on for so long, it became more like a battle of perseverance— Who would cave and speak to the other first?
You were stubborn, you had to admit, but Alhaitham could take it to a whole new level. Even when you tried to extend an olive branch, he would continue to keep to himself and draw out the silence between you.
You huffed as you wrapped a blanket around you. Kaveh had passed by your sorry state bundled up on the couch and wordlessly brought you a spare pillow and blanket. If there was anyone who understood Alhaitham’s stubbornness even more than you, it would have to be his roommate for years and former friend since the Akademiya, Kaveh. 
There was no explanation needed as Kaven patted you on the head before going back into his own room. 
Sighing, you laid down on the couch in the cold living room while Alhaitham was likely warm and cozy, snuggled up in bed without you. 
Dejected, you turned to your side and hugged the pillow Kaven gave. At this point, you were no longer even mad at Alhaitham. Sure, the two of you blew up on each other, but the heat simmered out and you were ready to make up and move on. 
It was too bad Alhaitham wasn’t, you thought to yourself, glaring at the cushion in front of you. 
You tossed and turned into the late of night, unable to get comfortable when your thoughts were focused on your boyfriend you were apparently still fighting with. Just as you were about to give up on sleep for the rest of the night, you heard a door creak open and the sound of footsteps coming from down the hall. 
Thinking it was only Kaveh again, you sat up and signed loudly, hugging your knees to your chest. 
“You’re still out here?”
Your spine straightened when you realized that voice was certainly not Kaveh. It was lower, deeper, much more familiar. Alhaitham.
Letting out an exhale, you shrugged without turning around to face him. “Where else would I go?”
Alhaitham sighed, walking around the sofa and taking a seat next to you, keeping a respectable distance away.
“You could go back to our bed,” he said quietly.
When you didn’t respond, he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You peered up at him with a look of reservation on your face.
“I’m sorry for letting you stay out here alone for so long,” he continued in a strained tone. 
You examined him, heart softening when you saw his tired and worn eyes, red skin at the edges. Although he hated showing it, you could easily see how much he was effected by this argument. 
“I’m really sorry. Won’t you come back to our room? I…miss you.”
Your resolve cracked after hearing those words. All you wanted for the past few hours was to make up. Now that he was the one holding up the peace flag, you toyed with the idea of making him grovel to make up for it. But a bigger part of you simply wanted to be in his arms again. 
“I miss you, too, Haith,” you said, moving closer to him. “I’m sorry for being so stubborn.”
Alhaitham gently took your hand into his and gave it a squeeze. “Perhaps we were both a little obstinate. But I love you too much to allow this stalemate to continue on.”
You nodded in agreement, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck. Breathing in deeply, you took in his familiar scent and let it warm your heart. 
“I hate the silent treatment,” you proclaimed, sniffling haughtily. “Let’s never do it again. I’m sorry for being a meanie.”
Alhaitham chuckled before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I was mean, too. I’m sorry for that. And you are forgiven.” He leaned his chin against the top of your head, not applying his full weight. “Now, let’s go to bed?”
“Yes, please.” You stood up slowly beside him. “I’m so tired. I can’t believe we were fighting for this loong over the existence of aliens!” 
He snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Our debates can get heated at times. But I enjoy that about us. Always being agreeable is too…mundane.” 
“I second that. But I just still can’t believe you don’t think aliens are real! In a world where gods and dragons exist… Aliens of all things are too farfetched?”
“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone.
You giggled, ruffling the top of his head with an exaggerated pat. “Okay, okay. Tonight, we make peace. I get it.”
“Mhm.” Alhaitham began walking to your room, holding your hand as you followed behind him. “Tonight, we make up. Tomorrow, we prepare our arguments and have a more structured debated.”
“Kaven can moderate the discussion,” you offered.
Alhaitham nodded. “I am agreeable to those terms. For now, please get in bed with me.”
You grinned at his pleas, closing the door behind you as you tackled him into a giant hug. “How about you kiss me first?”
Alhaitham smiled as he obliged, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “As you wish, my love.”
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luveline · 8 months ago
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carmy! i have a request, it’s so basic but everything you write is golden. him and r are pining coworkers, and maybe someone else yells at her or upsets her or whatever and he’s like but i’m the only one allowed to shout at you and he hugs her (because you know… arms 👀)
—Carmy tries to make you feel better after a customer upsets you. fem, 1.5k 
“Fucking asshole,” Richie mutters as the door swings closed. 
Carmy would cringe if he had the energy, or a lack of self-awareness —it’s not as though he doesn’t swear like a starved sailor every other sentence. 
“Who’s the asshole?” he asks, feeling down his side for the bump of a box of cigarettes he doesn’t find. 
He’s taken to hiding them in the office. He’d love to pretend it was an act of lent, but in actuality, he never told Ritchie that the box of cigarettes left near the burner, that gave them their C-army rating, wasn’t Richie’s at all, but Carmy’s. He isn’t ever planning on having that conversation, so he’s trying not to carry a box around and leave it somewhere stupid again. 
“Fucking– you didn’t just hear that guy?” Richie asks, scowling. 
Carmy scowls back. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking. What the fuck do you think?” 
It’s slightly too much aggression off the cuff, but Richie brings it out of him. “Some asshole just came in here and started shouting like a motherfucker because he forgot his stupid napkins. I thought Sunshine was gonna cry her eyes out.” 
Carmy clocks back in fully. “What?” 
Sunshine is the mildly sarcastic nickname Richie gave you before Carmy ever step foot in The Beef. It’s not that you’re moody, but you’re always tired, and you give these little shy smiles out to anyone who asks how you are. I’m fine, you say every time, followed by something deflective like, I’m just tired. Lack of vitamin D from working in this place. 
“Where do scumbags get off, making girls cry like that?” 
Carmy's eyes widen. “She’s crying?” 
Richie is capable of seriousness, despite himself. “Yeah,” he says, his anger swapped out for a low remorse, “I told her to go sit in the office until she’s feeling better.” 
Carmy pauses. “Should I go look in?” he asks. 
“Duh, Carmen. You’re the only one who can make her feel better. Which I resent!” He brings a rag end from his shoulder to wipe his forehead, which is gross, but whatever. “I’m fucking excellent at being a shoulder to cry on.” 
Carmy doesn’t know what that means. Richie says it like it’s obvious, but since when is Carmy the only person who can make you feel better? You’ve known everybody here far longer than you’ve known him, and sometimes Carmy thinks you probably don’t want a thing to do with him, does anybody in the kitchen? You’re smart, and you’ve been working here as long as anybody, started when you were genuinely too young and learning everything you know from the other. You have potential, like everybody here. You just didn’t get the right training, and you’re defensive (again, like everybody here). 
Carmy’s almost positive you’re gonna tell him to fuck off when he knocks the office door. He doesn’t know why he does it, nobody knocks in this shithole, but he does. Maybe he’s buying time; you’ll be feeling better when he pushes the door fully open, and he won’t have to navigate the treacherous depths of his feelings for you while he’s so busy trying to work himself out.
You sniff, muffled, like  a sleeve is held over your face. “Hello?” you ask. 
Carmy gets a burst of energy and doesn’t ask before stepping into the room. You can’t say no if he doesn’t ask, and you don’t, looking at him from the rickety office chair with distrust, and then sheepishness. 
“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.” 
“No, no, you can come in here,” he says. He has a bad habit of pausing too long and looking too close, hands clenched in front of himself. “You can come in here. Some asshole made you cry?” 
You shake your head with tears still wet on your cheek. You’re at home in the office, all the chaos and posters and paper trails a match for you dishevelled appearance. You’ve pulled your foot onto the chair, showcasing a shoe that’s falling apart and two pairs of socks pulled to uneven heights. Your hands are a riot, none of your jewellery but a mismatch of different coloured band-aids over a multitude of wounds. And your face glows with tears, shitty light of the desk lamp casting yellow onto your teary cheeks, your lips bitten raw. 
“I’m fine,” you say. 
Carmy doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was hoping for a better confession. “Over napkins?” 
“Said I’m s’posed to put napkins in the bag,” you say, a monotony to your voice that’s forced and weak at once. “‘Cos I’m a fucking idiot, right, who doesn’t put napkins in the bag?” You sniffle. “Whatever. Richie said he can’t come back.” 
“He can’t,” Carmy says quickly. 
He fails to follow it up. There’s an idiot in the office, for sure, and it’s not you. 
Your mouth crumples and you look away from him, something achy about you as another tear falls down your cheek to curve into the skin above your top lip, making a home at your cupid’s bow. “I’m fine.” 
“You can be upset,” he says. “This job’s… hard enough, without people making you feel like shit for shit you didn’t do.”
You respond to his warm(ish) tone with a small smile. Your tear slips down your lip. Carmy wants to wipe it off. 
“What can I do?” he asks finally.
He wishes he could make you feel better without asking, and there are parts of him that want to turn tail and run, too, but Carmy stays standing in front of the half-open door watching as tears make their way to your chin. He doesn’t know why you’re still crying. 
Maybe he does. Carmy doesn’t usually cry. He just watches things go wrong without stopping them, or keels over in the alley for long, too fast minutes as his heart pumps a bruising rhythm against his ribs. 
“I’m fine, Carmy,” you say, wiping your face roughly as you stand from the chair.  
He scratches a hand through his hair. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 
“You don’t have to anything.” 
“Richie said I’m the only person who can make you feel better.” 
“You’re just the only guy who ever shouts at me,” you tease, sniffling softly as you do. 
Carmy shouldn’t yell at anyone, but he does. You’ve never cried. He wouldn’t yell at anybody if he thought it would make them upset like that, it’s just that yelling’s like talking where he comes from, and the kitchen doesn’t help. 
“So what? Am I supposed to beat that guy up?” Carmy asks. 
You laugh through what he hopes to be the last of your tears, scrubbing at your cheeks ineffectually. “Like you could beat somebody up. You’re all bark and no bite, Berzatto.” 
Sure. And he’s a loser, he’s more than aware of it; Carmy knows fifty seven different ways to prepare corn for eating and he doesn’t know a single way to make girls feel better, so he tries something he saw on TV. 
“Come here,” he says, holding his arm out insistently. “C’mere.” 
He leans in to grab you. You hold your arms out, but you still when he touches you like you're shocked. He’s a little shocked too. 
“Richie knew the guy, right?” Carmy asks. 
“He said he’s banned for life.” 
“Okay, great.” Carmy feels up your back slowly. Your arms are hesitant behind him. He’s the braver one for once, feeling at the dips and slopes of you with a greedy hand.
You smell… really good. He has a good sense of smell, can pick apart a meal's ingredients by scent alone if he’s awake enough, so he can tell you’re wearing that little solid perfume you keep in your cubby, gentle enough to not bother anybody in the kitchen, ever so slightly milky and sweet. He can also smell the salt on your cheeks. So weird to be able to smell your tears. 
Carmy pats your back and leans away. Your hands fall to your side. 
He wipes your face hesitantly, pinky to your soft cheek, until your tear stains are dry and you’re looking at him steadily.
“That was really weird,” you say. 
He panics, stepping away from you, “Fuck. Fuck, sorry.” 
You shake your head. “No, I’m just kidding. Thanks, Carmy.” 
“Dick,” he says. 
You smile brightly. Okay, his heart fell into his ass when you said it was weird, but you can tease him all day if it makes you feel better. 
“I better go tell Richie I’m okay,” you say. “Don’t you have a stock to reduce?” 
“Oh, you mean your stock?” he asks. 
Your smile makes him wanna grab your wrist, and it makes him wanna chase after you. You slink out of the office, waving a quick goodbye with your fingers, and Carmy stares at the place you’d been sitting while you cried for a couple of seconds to get a grip.  
He puts his hand on his chest and feels his pulse racing. 
“Fucking asshole,” he mutters, not sure if he means the customer or himself.
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moonstruckme · 18 days ago
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hi mae!!! i absolutely love your writing and am evidently irrevocably in love with wolfstar. i just got my wisdom teeth taken out, and i know you already wrote something for poly!marauders with that, but could i request something for poly!wolfstar taking care of reader a few days after? so less loopy and more pain with lots of fluff and cuddles! feel free to ignore, love you darling!
Thanks for requesting lovely! Hope you feel better soon <3
cw: allusion to chronic pain
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 627 words
“Hello,” Sirius says when the front door shushes open. He starts to fold over the page of his magazine. He hardly catches a bit of motion from the corner of his eye before you’re flopping down on top of him, forcing a soft oof from his sternum. “Oh, hello. Everything okay?”
You make a tortured groaning sound, forehead pushing into his neck.
“You’re alright, sweetheart.” Remus passes a loving hand over Sirius’ head in greeting, en route to the kitchen. “I’ll get your ice.”
“Aw,” Sirius tuts, letting his magazine lay tented over your back. He palms the back of your head gently. “Hard first day back at work?”
“It feels like it hurts worse,” you mumble into the space below his throat. The tip of your nose is cool where it presses to his skin. “I’m so tired.”
“Oh, I know, baby.” Sirius kisses the top of your head. “It’s not very fair, is it?”
“Pain is tiring,” Remus agrees. He passes Sirius an ice pack to settle against your cheek, holding onto another while he leans on the back of the couch. “It’ll get better over the next few days. Tomorrow should be easier.”
“I can’t think about tomorrow.” Your voice is softer, lips barely moving as Sirius holds the ice to your jaw. You shift your face from his neck, turning your eyes up to his. “Keep me here forever?”
Sirius feels his mouth spread in a grin. “You know I will, gorgeous. And I’ll do you one better, lift your head and I’ll put two ice packs on your cheeks.”
You pick your head up as directed. Remus passes Sirius the other ice pack, and he sandwiches your face between the two with a smile. Your poor cheeks are swollen and bruised, but Sirius thinks you look lovely despite it, even pouting the way you are. You look between your boyfriends as though waiting for them to do something about it.
Remus breaks first. “Oh, my love.” He gives a pitying laugh, folding over the back of the couch to hug your shoulders. “I’m sorry. The pain won’t last much longer, though. Just give yourself some time to heal.”
“Count yourself lucky you had wisdom to take,” Sirius says. “I didn’t have anything they wanted at all.”
“I’m so tired of this,” you sigh, leaning into Remus. “Sorry, I know it’s only been a couple of days, just. It’s just constant, you know?”
Remus hums. He knows better than most, better than Sirius for sure. Sirius feels overcome by a fond protectiveness for you both.
He touches a pinkie to Remus’ forearm where it’s wrapped around your clavicle. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says, rubbing. “It’s cruel and unjust to have either of you ever work again. I won’t entertain it.”
“Oh, you’re going to be our sole breadwinner now?” Remus asks, smiling.
“Quite right. I’ll need the two of you to carry your weight in homemaking, of course, but I’ll manage the rest.”
“And you reckon your income can cover our portions of the rent and groceries and all that?”
“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, darling. It’s well in hand.”
“Let me lie about for the rest of the week,” you sigh. “Then I’ll go back to work and you can stay here, Rem.”
Remus turns his smile into the top of your head, nose denting into your hair. “Yeah? You sure?”
“M’sure.” You shut your eyes. Sirius grins at Remus, thinking that he has about thirty seconds to change positions before you fall asleep and he has to hold you this way all night. “Just need a few days.”
But Remus will indulge you in anything; he stays perfectly still. “Sure, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your head. “Whatever you need.”
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