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fallenbratfiction · 2 months ago

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his assistant ~ harry castillo x f! reader

A/N: I had this idea about him and it completely stopped all my uni reading so I put away the pdfs and got to writing this beauty. I was kicking at my feet giggling and screeching aaaaaaaaa

warnings: age gap (early twenties reader, mid forties older boss harry), workplace relationship / power dynamics (boss × assistant), alcohol, smut, fingering, oral sex (f! receiver), unprotected sex. Let me know if I've forgotten any warnings so I can add them.

minors dni ~ minors do not interact with this fic or my blog. I am not responsible for your consumption.

do not copy, translate or claim this story as your own.

Your day consisted of running after Harry. He was a busy man—and by extension, you were a busy assistant.

You’d landed this job thanks to a mentor’s referral letter, and you were forever grateful. It had changed your life: no more night shifts while trying to finish your bachelor's degree.

Harry was a reserved man, at first he didn’t talk much, but he had a sharp sense of humor. Over time, you’d learned how to read him, and together, you'd become a solid team.

He thought your work was exceptional. You were dedicated—sometimes too dedicated. If he stayed at the office all night, you stayed too, just in case he needed something. He told you more than once to go home, but you rarely listened.

Lately, he'd started dating again. That meant working out a lot. Sometimes you'd catch him right after a run, sweatshirt soaked through. It was hard to focus on your notes when he looked like that.

He didn’t need to work out. He was already unfairly attractive—but of course, you didn’t say that. Not your place.

You tossed a towel at him, which he caught midair. He peeled off the drenched sweatshirt, revealing the results of his dedication. Either he was too comfortable with you now, or he'd forgotten you were still in the room.

“Fucking hell.”

He turned toward you, raising an eyebrow.

You quickly held up your phone. “This thing just froze. Fucking hell.”

He nodded, and you prayed the earth would swallow you whole.

But he knew what you meant.

__________________________

It was late at the office. The only two people left were you and Harry. He sat at his large desk, fingers flying across the keyboard, though he kept glancing your way.

You were focused on your phone, scheduling appointments, replying to emails. He liked watching you when you were focused—your scrunched nose, the way you bit your lip when you made a mistake. How you always tucked your hair behind your ear like it helped you concentrate. To him, it just gave him a perfect view of your neck—like a subtle invitation to that sweet spot close to your ear.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asked.

You looked up, caught off guard. “Uhm... no? I had an oatmeal bar a few hours ago.”

He frowned. He hated how often you skipped meals because of work—because of him.

“Don’t worry,” you added. “Go home. I’ll grab a salad or something later.”

“I was thinking,” he interrupted, “we could get dinner. Together.”

You blinked. “You want to have dinner... with me?”

“We spend the whole day together. Don’t see the issue with having dinner, too.”

You hesitated. “Wouldn’t that get me into trouble? I mean... HR?”

“I’m the boss,” he said. “You won’t get into any trouble. It’s a friendly invitation.”

You considered it. Honestly, you were starving—and if you waited any longer, your stomach would probably start growling audibly.

“Sure. Why not,” you shrugged, grabbing your jacket and slinging your purse over your shoulder.

You followed him into a fancy restaurant. The kind with low lights, gold accents, and a wine list thicker than a Bible. You resisted the urge to take out your phone for a picture.

A waitress led you to your table before disappearing. Harry pulled out your chair for you. You murmured a shy thank-you to which he hummed.

He sat across from you and you observed how he got comfortable taking off his jacket.

Harry handed you the menu, but you were too aware of everything—the ambient jazz, the soft clinking of cutlery, still trying to process this entire situation—being out with him, in public, like this. It’s not like you hadn’t been in public with him before, you were constantly in public but the dynamic was different. you weren’t there holding his jacket while he had dinner with someone else, or sitting at the bar or a different table to keep an eye if needed. No, you were sitting with him at the fancy restaurant.

Moments later, a tall brunette waitress appeared. Thin smile. Sharp eyes.

"Can I get you something to drink while you decide?" she asked, not once looking in your direction. She flipped her hair as she awaited his response.

Your brows lifted slightly. Harry noticed.

He didn’t blink. “We’ll take the house Cabernet. Two glasses.”

That’s when she looked at you—finally. One long, assessing glance. Then a bright smile aimed only at him.

“Oh,” she said innocently. “Is she even of legal drinking age?”

You stiffened. Your hand tightened around the edge of the table.

You were ready to correct her. “Actually, I’m his—”

But Harry’s tone cut through first. Calm. Controlled. No smile.

“She’s my partner, actually.”

The waitress blinked. Her face held a flicker of something before she masked it with another sweet smile.

“Right,” she said slowly, lingering a second too long. “I just—thought she was your daughter at first. That’s all.” She gave him a wink like it was a private joke.

You opened your mouth, fully ready to set her on fire with words— Are you always this unprofessional, or am I just lucky tonight?

But Harry reached across the table, fingers brushing your hand lightly. Just enough to anchor you.

“She’ll have the same wine as me,” he added firmly, not breaking eye contact with the waitress. “Thank you.”

The message was clear: You can go now.

She hesitated—then turned, heels clicking sharply as she walked away.

You looked at him. “Partner?” you whispered, incredulous. “Castillo, what the fuck was that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry—would you rather I let her mock you as my child or my assistant?”

“But I am your assistant.”

“And I wasn’t about to let her reduce you to that. Not when you’re sitting here with me.”

You opened your mouth again—then closed it. Your cheeks burned.

“Just say thank you,” he added, voice low. “Or gracias.”

“…Gracias,” you muttered, still glaring at the now-empty space where the waitress stood.

A few minutes passed in silence as you both read the menu. Then you snorted.

Harry looked up. “What?”

“Sorry, just—the idea of being your partner,” you said, covering your mouth to hide your grin. Good joke. Will never happen.

“Why is that funny? Am I that bad-looking?”

“No! It’s just... me? Being with you? Me?”

“Well, you’re not bad-looking either. I don’t see the humor.”

“Thanks... I guess.”

“I mean—you’re gorgeous. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. Hell, I’d be lucky, if I wasn’t older.”

You blinked. Thought you’d misheard. But before you could ask, he was waving the waitress back to take your order.

She returned a few minutes later, two wine glasses in hand and a bottle tucked expertly in the crook of her arm. This time, she had no choice but to acknowledge you.

She set Harry’s glass down smoothly. Then yours, with a forced politeness that made you want to laugh.

"Well," you said under your breath, watching her walk away stiffly. "She doesn’t seem like quite a fan of me."

Harry smirked. “You think?”

“She looked like she wanted to throw the wine in my face.”

“I wouldn’t let her waste the good stuff.”

The wine ritual followed, soft and flirtatious. He swirled his glass and held it near your face.

"Swirl first," he said softly. "Let it breathe. Then smell. But don’t shove your nose in like a rookie.”

You chuckled. “So you’re a sommelier now?”

“No, I just have taste.”

You mirrored him. Swirled. Smelled. Sipped.

“Any notes?” he asked, lips curled in amusement.

"Yeah. Grapes," you deadpanned.

He laughed, eyes crinkling—and for a second, it felt like there were no titles between you. No roles. Just two people. Sitting across from each other. Maybe on the verge of something stupid, or something real.

The wine helped. So did the food.

The waitress returned with two beautifully plated dishes and the thinnest layer of civility. She set Harry’s plate down with practiced ease, then yours with stiff politeness. Her jaw was tight. She didn’t say a word this time.

When she walked away, you finally exhaled.

Harry raised his glass slightly toward you. “To surviving the service industry.”

You clinked his glass with yours, managing a small laugh. But your mind wasn’t really on the food. Or the wine. Or the waitress.

It was still on him.

Specifically: “Hell, I’d be lucky… if I wasn’t older.”

He said it so casually. Like it wasn’t a confession. Like it wasn’t driving you quietly insane.

You watched him from across the table as he cut into his steak—calm, focused, unbothered. How was he always like this? Controlled. Grounded. Like nothing ever rattled him.

You bit your lip and stabbed at your salad.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a moment.

“I’m eating,” you replied, a little too fast.

He raised a brow. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

You shrugged, trying not to overthink it. “Just... still running through what she said, I guess.”

He studied you for a second. “Let it go. She’s not worth that much space in your head.”

“That’s not—” You paused. “It’s not about her.”

Harry leaned back slightly, his eyes still on you. “Then what is it?”

You hesitated. Then took a sip of your wine, buying time.

“If I wasn’t older…”

That’s what it was, that damn line.

You swallowed, not just the wine, but the way your heart seemed to lurch every time you replayed it.

“It’s stupid,” you said finally. “Forget it.”

“I won’t,” he replied. “You don’t usually get this flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” you lied.

He smirked, tilting his head. “Right.”

You poked at your food again. Then quietly you proceeded “So what did you mean?”

He looked at you, serious now. No smirk. No tease.

“I meant what I said.”

“About the age thing?”

He nodded. “I try not to think about it, but yeah. Sometimes I wonder if I’d cross a line just by wanting more than I should.”

Silence.

Then, softer: “And what happened on Monday didn’t help.”

You stared at him confused. “What happened on Monday?”

He held your gaze. “You tossed a towel at me. I took my shirt off. And you said, fucking hell.”

Your eyes widened. “I said it because—”

“I know why,” he said. Still calm. Still steady. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind.”

You stared at your plate, the flush spreading to your neck.

He added, voice barely above the hum of the restaurant

“I think about it too. You. More than I should.”

You didn’t answer.

But you didn’t need to.

Because when he reached across the table—just for a moment, just to brush your hand with his fingers again—you didn’t pull away.

_____________________________

The air outside was cooler than you expected. Or maybe it was just the heat still clinging to your skin from the conversation.

Harry walked a few steps ahead, hands in his pockets, silent. He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk near the curb. The night stretched around you both—quiet, electric.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, not facing you. “If I made you uncomfortable back there.”

You blinked. “What?”

He turned, finally looking at you. “At the table. I shouldn’t have said that—about thinking about you. Or the age thing. It wasn’t appropriate.”

You stepped closer. “Harry—”

“If it put you in a weird position, I—”

You didn’t let him finish. You closed the distance, grabbed the lapel of his coat, and pressed a kiss to his lips. His mustache grazed your skin, warm and soft and just rough enough to make your breath catch.

He didn’t kiss back at first. He just froze, lips parted under yours, like his brain hadn’t caught up yet.

Then, slowly, his hand came up—fingertips grazing your waist as if to make sure you were real.

You started to pull away, panic bubbling in your chest.

Shit, shit! What did I just do?

But he caught you and kissed you back. Not rushed. Not messy. Just steady, grounded, certain. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been holding back for too long—and now, the dam had cracked.

When you finally broke apart, you stayed close, your breath still caught between you.

He looked at you like he was trying to piece together what just happened. And you looked right back. Not saying anything, just holding his gaze.

Yes.

That happened just now.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d crossed a line,” he murmured. His voice was low. Honest.

“I crossed it for you,” you said.

His lips twitched—barely. Like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite know how to yet. He stared at you like you were some puzzle he’d never expected to solve.

Then, without another word, he took a step back and held out his hand.

You didn’t hesitate.

_______________________

The silence in the car wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Full.

You sat there, lips still tingling, eyes on the window. The city blurred past in soft golds and blues.

Neon signs flickered. A woman smoked on a balcony. A dog pulling its owner across a crosswalk. A man hailed a cab. Life was still happening—but all you could feel was him.

His presence beside you. His warmth in the space between the seats. The echo of his mouth on yours.

You tilted your head, eyes tracing the curve of the moon through the window. It followed you quietly, like it knew. Like it saw everything.

Every red light glowed too long. Every block felt like a held breath.

He gripped the wheel tighter than usual. Jaw tense. He checked his mirrors often, but it was clear he wasn’t really seeing anything. His jaw worked silently, eyes flicking between the road and the rearview, like any movement might pull him out of the moment.

You kept quiet. Let the silence stretch.

Finally, his voice broke through the quiet. Low. Controlled.

“I meant what I said.”

You turned your head slowly. “Which part?”

He glanced at you, just once.

“All of it.”

You held his gaze for a second longer than necessary. Then looked away, smiling just a little.

“Good.”

You finally made it to his building. He pulled into the underground garage, the soft hum of the engine echoing off the concrete walls.

He parked in his usual spot. You recognized it—you’d been here before. Dropped off folders, laptops, contracts he forgot in the office. Walked these exact halls with purpose, never pausing. Always professional. Always business.

But this time?

This time you didn’t have a file in your hands. You weren’t on a clock. You weren’t his assistant.

You were just you.

And that changed everything.

He turned off the engine, but neither of you moved for a second. You could feel the air shift. Not heavier—closer.

He got out of the car without another word, the door shutting quietly behind him. A few seconds later, your door opened—and there he was, standing beside you like it was nothing.

He looked at you. “You coming?”

You nodded once. “Yeah.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t moved.

You were still sitting there, fingers lightly pressed against your thigh, your body catching up to what your heart had already decided.

He didn’t rush you.

Just waited. One hand resting on the open door, the other in his coat pocket, his eyes on you like he could see the entire storm happening behind your stillness.

You exhaled slowly. Then you stood.

His gaze followed you as you stepped out of the car, close enough to feel the warmth of his body in the chill of the garage.

No words. Just the soft click of the door closing behind you.

You followed him to the elevator.

________________________

The elevator opened into the apartment directly.

You stepped in first. You’d been here before, of course—several times. Late-night contract drop-offs. Files he forgot in the office. You knew the layout by heart, knew the scent of the place, even the way the light curved in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

But you’d never walked in like this.

Not without an agenda or a deadline.

Not as a guest.

And suddenly, the space felt different.

It wasn’t sterile or cold like you used to tell yourself. No sleek, lonely bachelor energy. No leather-and-glass cliché.

It was warm.

Low lighting. Art on the walls. A worn leather chair near the window, a record player spinning soft jazz in the corner. Shelves with actual books, not props. A thick wool throw draped over the couch. A scent like cedarwood and something expensive lingered in the air.

“Wow,” you breathed, almost instinctively.

Harry loosened his tie. “You’ve seen it before.”

You looked at him. “Yeah, but not like this.”

He held your gaze a second longer, then nodded. “Fair.”

He disappeared into the kitchen briefly, came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. This bottle looked different—older, deeper colored.

“Private collection?” you teased.

“Something like that.” He poured carefully, then handed you a glass.

You swirled it. “Swirl, breathe, smell... sip?”

He smiled again, slower this time. “You remembered.”

You sipped. You could feel his gaze linger on your mouth.

“It’s really good,” you said, clearing your throat.

He stood in front of you, not close enough to touch—but enough that you felt it. The gravity of him. The silence stretching between you again.

He stayed standing across from you for a moment, sleeves rolled up, the top buttons of his shirt undone now. You watched him, your glass warm in your hand.

Neither of you said a word.

But everything was being said.

You stepped toward him at the same time he stepped toward you. The shared gravity was inevitable.

He reached out first, not to kiss you again, but to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His knuckles grazed your cheek, and it made your breath catch.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Are you?”

He smiled, something half-there. “Not sure.”

You were close enough now that you could feel the heat of his chest through the thin barrier of space left between you. His hand lingered at your waist. Yours found his wrist, thumb tracing the veins beneath his skin.

You weren’t sure who moved first this time. Maybe both.

The kiss was quieter now. Slower. Less urgent, more intentional. Like you were both realizing there was no clock ticking. No one to interrupt. No need to hold back.

When he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you kept your eyes closed. Let the silence wrap around you.

“I wasn’t planning this,” he murmured.

“I know,” you said. “Me neither.”

But neither of you moved away.

You barely noticed how close you’d gotten until your glass tilted slightly, the wine catching the rim. A splash landed on his shirt, dark red soaking into crisp white.

“Shit,” you whispered, pulling back. “I didn’t mean to—”

Harry glanced down. Then up at you, completely unfazed.

“It was coming off anyway,” he said simply, already working the buttons open with one hand.

You stood frozen for a beat too long, your wine forgotten.

He peeled off the shirt and tossed it onto the back of a nearby chair. His torso was lean, toned in a way that only comes from quiet consistency—not vanity, just discipline. His skin was warm under the golden lighting, a scattering of freckles across his shoulders.

You cleared your throat, trying to remember how to function.

He looked at you again, this time slower. “You okay?”

“I will be if you stop looking at me like that,” you murmured, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

“Like what?”

“Like you already know what’s going to happen.”

He stepped closer again. “I don’t,” he said softly. “That’s kind of the best part.”

He took your glass and set it aside—carefully—then turned back to you.

His eyes were darker now. Focused.

He wanted your full attention.

He gripped your waist and pulled you closer, his touch no longer tentative. Confident. Sure. With one movement, he shifted your weight, guiding you until your legs wrapped around him instinctively.

He walked—slow but deliberate—until your back met the wall.

The kiss broke for only a second, just long enough for you to catch your breath.

Then it came crashing back—furious now. Hungry. His mouth on yours like he’d been waiting all night to be this unrestrained.

Your hands tangled in his hair, fingers tugging just hard enough to make him groan against your lips. He pressed into you, anchoring you to the wall, one hand exploring the curve of your hip, the other trailing along your ribs, steady but searching.

He kissed like he knew you—like every inhale, every tilt of your head, was familiar already. Like he didn’t want to stop.

And neither did you.

He pulled back just long enough to catch your breath—his lips parted, his chest rising with yours in sync.

And then he moved.

He didn’t say a word, just adjusted his grip on your thighs and carried you across the room. You tightened your legs around his waist instinctively, fingers still tangled in his hair as he walked the two of you toward the bedroom.

You weren’t sure when your shirt came off. Somewhere between the hallway and the doorway, between kisses along your neck and soft, breathless gasps you couldn’t hold back.

He dropped it on the floor like it had never mattered, and by the time you reached the bed, all that was left between you and the sheets was skin and heat and a thousand quiet yeses.

He set you down gently. Like he knew this wasn’t just about desire—it was about something else. Something you both hadn’t dared name yet.

But right now?

You didn’t need a name.

You needed him.

He laid you down gently, like he didn’t want to rush—like he wanted to memorize every second of this.

And then he hovered above you, just for a breath. His eyes swept over you—bare skin, flushed cheeks, your mouth still parted from the last kiss.

You felt his fingertips brush the side of your neck, slow, reverent. His gaze followed the motion like he’d traced this path a hundred times in his head.

And then he leaned in.

His lips brushed just beneath your jaw first—soft, careful. Then lower. Warmer. His breath fanned over the curve where your neck met your shoulder, and your pulse jumped.

You felt it coming before it happened.

That spot.

That one spot—right behind your ear, the one he always glanced at when you’d shift your hair during long office days. The one that always felt too exposed when you wore it up.

He found it.

And kissed it.

Not quick. Not teasing.

Slow. Open-mouthed. Intentional.

Your fingers tightened against his back, your breath caught, your whole body arching slightly beneath him.

“Been wanting to do that,” he murmured against your skin.

You shivered. “Yeah?”

“Since the first time you tucked your hair back,” he whispered. “Drove me fucking crazy.”

You smiled. Then gasped—because he kissed it again, deeper this time, his hand sliding down to your hip, anchoring you to him like he couldn’t risk letting you drift too far.

And from there, he took his time.

Your moans were like music to his ears.

He’d imagined this—more times than he cared to admit. But he never let himself get too far. He’d always pulled himself back, always shut the door on the thought before it became too real, too dangerous.

But this wasn’t a dream.

This was real.

And he was here. With you.

No phones. No appointments. No schedule, no glass wall between you.

Just the two of you. Skin to skin. Breath to breath.

His mouth moved across your collarbone, your shoulder, your chest—slow, devoted, like he had all the time in the world. And for once, maybe he did.

You reached down between your bodies, fingers trailing over his torso with reverence, until you found his belt. You unbuckled it with practiced ease, metal clicking softly in the quiet room. You pushed his pants down, your breath hitching as he helped you.

“Fucking hell” you blurted as you caught the sight of his hard and heavy cock.

He stroked himself slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched your reaction—your gaze locked onto his cock, pupils blown, breath hitching. A bead of precum formed at the head and you gulped. There was a fair chance that he could split you in half, not only because of his cock but his size as a whole.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and he crawled onto the bed, his face inches from yours. His hands slid to your sides, fingers warm and sure against your skin.

He mirrored your movements, trailing down your waist until he reached the waistband of your pencil skirt—the one he’d seen you wear so many times. The one he’d fantasized about taking off, but never dared to touch.

Until now.

He didn’t hesitate.

He slid it down slowly, eyes locked on yours the whole time. The tension between you stretched, thick and warm and crackling.

And when the skirt hit the floor along with your panties, and he saw you like that—laid out for him, flushed, eyes dark with want—he exhaled like he’d finally, finally let himself breathe.

Your hands cupped his face, guiding him back to your mouth, and he settled between your thighs like he belonged there. Like he always had. Harry removed your panties tossing them across the room.

His fingers rubbed along your folds, feeling the wet pooling in your cunt before curling inside, his lips neared your clit, kissing it softly before licking across your entire cunt, He lapped on your clit, groaning onto it. The feeling of his tongue and his mustache caused an electric shock down your spine, driving right onto his face.

“I need you so bad” His voice deep as he added another finger, his mouth still on your clit making his words vibrate against you.

You struggled to respond, breath catching in your throat—but you managed, voice low and trembling with want.

“What’s holding you back? We’re already in this.”

He looked up at you, mouth still on you, hands gripping your thighs like he needed to anchor himself to something.

Your words hit him like a match. The final green light.

And just like that, restraint vanished. Neither of you cared how this would turn out—how messy, how complicated, how reckless. Consequences could come later. Right now? You just needed each other.

Desperately.

He gripped your thighs tighter, stretching your legs wider as he pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched at the sudden movement. He aligned himself holding his heavy cock to your entrance and using the wetness to lube himself up before entering you. Your eyes locked as he pushed into you—slow, steady, deliberate.

His gaze didn’t leave yours, not even for a second, like he wanted to see all of it—your reaction, your unraveling, the way your mouth parted with a breathless moan.

Your face contorted with pleasure, head tipping back as the stretch overtook you. One hand flew to the sheets, clutching them tight as your body arched, trying to take more, feel everything.

He slid in fully, deep, until there was nothing left between you. Just heat and breath and that dizzying sense that everything had just shifted again—and this time, there was no going back.

He finally moved—slow at first, steady, dragging his hips back just enough before pushing in again. Then he found his rhythm and hovered over you groaning against your neck, the sound low, guttural. Every thrust hit deep, every shift of his body pulled another breathless sound from your lips. Your hips rose to meet his, chasing every movement, matching his pace—desperate, shameless, hungry for more. You didn’t care how it looked or how it sounded. It was true.

There were no sharp sounds, no declarations. Just soft gasps, broken moans, fingers digging into skin like you were afraid to let go. Afraid this was a dream. Afraid you’d wake up if you did.

“Harry… fuck,” you whined, digging your nails into his hair as you got closer to the height of pleasure, your walls spasming around himpulsing in tight, desperate waves that pulled a groan from deep in his chest. He wasn’t far behind.

“Shit–“ he breathed, jaw clenched, his rhythm stuttering as your release crashed over you, coating him.

Shudders wracked your body, hips arching into him as the pleasure overtook you. You felt it—wet, warm, everywhere—coating him, slick and overwhelming.

He tensed inside of you and followed with a rough, broken sound, thrusting deep one final time as he came undone inside you. Your cry was caught in his mouth, swallowed between kisses and the sound of skin against skin.

Your nails raked down his back, your legs tightening around him as the release wracked through you, relentless and blinding.

He groaned against your lips, his rhythm faltering as he gave in too—lost to you, to the feeling, to the way you came around him like your body had been waiting for this moment, and only this.

And when it was over—when the last shuddering breath passed between you, and his lips found that spot behind your ear again—you felt something settle in your chest.

Like this hadn’t just been inevitable. It had been waiting.

Everything about him felt real—the weight of his body, the warmth of his breath, the way he moved with you like he already knew you this way. Like maybe, he always had.

Every stroke, every kiss, every whispered breath between tangled limbs felt like a quiet confession neither of you had dared speak aloud. You were wrapped in him—in his scent, his voice, the slow, grounding pressure of his body against yours.

You shivered again—even in his warmth.

This wasn’t just crossing a line. This was burning it.

Then, without a word, he shifted beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist and gently turning you onto your side. His chest pressed to your back, steady and warm.

You felt his hand settle low at your stomach, fingers curling softly against your skin like he wasn’t ready to let you go. Like he wouldn’t.

His arm was heavy—comfortably so. It grounded you, pinned you in the best way. You couldn’t have moved even if you wanted to.

You didn’t.

Just his breath at your neck. The quiet hum of the city outside. And sleep, finally pulling you under.

__________________________________

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, painting long golden stripes across the sheets. You stirred before he did, blinking against the light, the warmth of it settling over your bare skin. The sheets were soft. His bed smelled like clean linen and cedar, something calm and clean and unmistakably him.

Turning your head, you found him beside you—still asleep. Or maybe just pretending. Either way, you took the moment. Let your gaze linger on his face, softened in sleep, free from the tension he always wore like armor. He looked younger like this. Softer. Still Harry—but not the boss version. Just him.

You didn’t move. You didn’t want to.

But your phone buzzed somewhere from the living room, and it pulled you back into reality like a hook.

He opened one eye slowly. “Don’t answer it.”

You turned back toward him. “It might be important.”

“Then let it be important later.”

You laughed, burying your face into the pillow. “You’re not helping me keep my job.”

“I am your job.”

You groaned. “You would say that.”

He reached out, tucking your hair behind your ear again, fingers trailing lightly along your jaw before settling at your shoulder. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just looked at him, his eyes still soft with sleep but awake in a way that said he was fully here.

“Do you always wake up this smug?” you murmured, voice low and a little rough.

“Only when I’ve earned it,” he said, smiling faintly.

You shook your head, pressing your face into the pillow to hide your own grin, even as your leg brushed against his under the blanket. The air between you was warm but stretched—hovering in that space between comfort and the edge of a conversation neither of you had dared touch yet.

A quiet beat passed.

“So… what happens now?”

He looked at you for a moment, the question lingering in the space between your bodies. Too big for right now. Too real.

He exhaled. “Let’s get coffee first.”

You let out a soft laugh. “You’re really gonna dodge the question with caffeine?”

“I’m not dodging. I’m delaying with style.” He sat up, stretching slightly. “Priorities. Coffee first, emotional unraveling later.”

You slipped out of bed a moment later, legs still a little unsteady, and padded toward the doorway, grabbing the first thing you saw—a folded Nirvana tee left on the edge of a chair. It smelled like him—clean, warm, something like cedar and sleep and skin. You tugged it on, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs as you walked barefoot into the kitchen.

Harry was already there, sleeves rolled up again, hair slightly messy, standing by the stove with a French press and two mugs on the counter. The smell of coffee wrapped around you like a second shirt.

“Hey,” he said, voice still rough with sleep. “I wasn’t sure how you take it, so... I went basic. Milk and sugar are there.”

You sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island, tucking your legs up beneath you.

He chuckled softly and slid a mug toward you. “Make yourself at home.”

You took a sip, eyes on him as he leaned back against the counter, his own mug held in both hands. It felt oddly natural—like you’d done this before, like waking up in his apartment and drinking coffee together was part of some soft, familiar routine you’d already built in your head.

Except it wasn’t. This was new. Dangerous. Beautiful.

You stared into your coffee, letting the warmth settle into your palms, your shoulders beginning to loosen in the stillness between you. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was gentle, even comforting. The scene felt like it belonged. Him. You. Coffee. Morning light stretching across the floor.

It fit too well.

And then, like something small tugged loose, the comfort began to unravel. Your breath caught in your chest. Your thoughts sharpened at the edges. This wasn’t routine. This wasn’t safe. You’d slept with your boss. You’d crossed a line and blurred it so deeply there might not be a way back.

Your fingers tightened around the mug, your body going still again—not frozen, just quiet, the kind of quiet that comes when a thought hits too fast, too sharp. He noticed. His voice softened when he spoke, like he was already reading the shift in you. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just set his mug down and stepped closer, resting one hand on the back of your chair—not quite touching, but close enough to feel. “We don’t have to name it,” he said, calm and even. “But I meant everything I said. And everything I did.”

You held his gaze, heart thudding, your breath catching somewhere between your ribs and your throat. “I meant it too,” you said quietly. “All of it.”

It wasn’t a full spiral. Not regret. Just a flicker of panic—the kind that comes after something good, something real. The kind that makes you question if maybe you dreamed the whole thing. But he caught it. And he soothed it. Not by promising anything, not by fixing it, but just by being steady. Present.

Because it wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t a mistake. And he knew that.

He nodded once. “Then we don’t panic.” His voice was calm, certain, like a soft line being drawn in the quiet. “We go to work,” he said simply. “We don’t pretend it didn’t happen. But we don’t have to define it right now either. We just—go slow. If that’s okay with you.”

You nodded. He reached out, his hand brushing lightly along your arm before resting there—warm, grounding. Not pulling you closer. Just there.

Neither of you moved after that. You sat quietly, shoulders barely touching, hands around your mugs, the sun crawling across the floor like it had all the time in the world. The coffee cooled slowly.

No pressure. No rush. Just a shared breath in the soft quiet of something beginning.

Hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing this!!

All support is welcomed 💕✨ REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS HELP THIS STORY GROW!

#harry castillo #harry castillo x reader #harry castillo x you #harry castillo x f! reader #the materialists #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #harry castillo smut #harry castillo fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #harry castillo materialists #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #iael writes #his assistant #pedro pascal fics #pedro pascal x reader

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ellieslittleslutt · 2 months ago

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LINKED | VI

cw: nipple stim, fingering, nipple piercings, afab reader, lmk what i missed bc i honestly am too tired to reread this.

a/n: ahaha so im back, uhm this came to me randomly and had to write it immediately, it also isnt much but im too tired to care rn, this was based off a brief conversation with my gf. hopefully this can get me out of this writers block so enjoy freaks.

wc: 0.7k

you’ve been lying on the couch scrolling through your phone when you spotted your pink haired girl with a giddy smile standing in the doorway, holding a small box for you.

putting your phone down you look at her with a smile tilting your head “c'mere show me what you got” you pushed yourself up to sit straight, patting the seat next to you and she immediately plops down beside you.

“open it” she says pushing the box in your hands excitedly. with a chuckle you lift the top to reveal two pairs of silver hoops. tilting your head up looked up at her resting your head on the back of the couch “what’s this for baby?” you asked holding it out to her.

looking down at you twisting a bit of your hair with a big grin, “well i was thinking, since we both have our nipples done… maybe we could try something?” she said dangling one of the linked hoops in front of you teasingly.

that’s how you ended up in bed nude watching her hold your tit linking both the hoops together that pierced your nipples. once clicking them in place they gave a slight tug on your tit.

looking up at you vi smirks and lets out a soft huff guiding you to sit careful not to tug to hard as she guided you into her lap.

the proximity caused her hot breath to mingle with yours, both of your gazes focused on both of your chests. look up at vi you lift her chin pulling her into a deep kiss pressing your chest to hers. letting out moans against each others lips, the kiss got heated and hungry, grabbing and squeezing the flesh of your thighs and ass pushing you down into bed, following right with you staying linked together.

“what now?” you panted, a little breathless form the kiss as she kissed your neck “guess you’re stuck with me…” she mumbled against your neck running her hand down to run two fingers between your folds, causing a soft breathy moan to fall from your lips.

your sensitivity was heightened due to the constant tugs on both your nipples when she pulls away.

her warm hand ran up your thigh to push it up, leaving you open to her. her fingers were attracted to your pulsing clit tracing firm circles into the bud.

“shit vi” you breathed out curling your fingers in her hair as she assaulted your neck with her lips, leaving a bite here and there, soft licks and kisses. she was so focused on her tits pressed to yours and the throbbing of your clit she was almost in a trance state.

“wanna make you cum so hard” she muttered against your neck kissing up to the hinge of your jaw, feeling the way it slacks open when she pushes two fingers into you, pumping them in a constant relentless rhythm.

grinning against your skin she pushed her body up watching her tits tug on yours,another whimper escaping from between your lips curling her fingers up into the soft, spongy part inside of you that she knew make you cry, and she couldn't be more right.

turning your head to the side you caught her lips in a heated kiss muffling each groan and whine that came from the two of you. as she kept up with a consistent rhythm she felt the way your walls squeezed and sucked her fingers deeper into you, knowing exactly what she was doing to your she pushed up again. "vi! mhph.. fuck!"

that's all it took to send you barrelling over the edge, a slight tug on each nipple and you started clenching milking her fingers for all she had to give you.

when it all started to subside she pulled her fingers out pushing them into her mouth, letting out a satisfied groan letting her eyes flutter shut "taste better than you look" she mumbled.

pulling you back into her she let you catch your breath before running her hands up your waist to the peaks of your chest, moving to take out the hoops when your hands stopped her.

"nuh uh.. you're stuck with me" you smiled giving her a lazy kiss. lying back down with you, you spread out on top of her basking in the afterglow together.

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alllgator-blood · 5 months ago

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'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

#cult of the lamb #cotl bishops #shamura #heket #kallamar #leshy #angst #comic

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pi-creates · 4 months ago

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I can’t stop being upset about Veilguard’s writing, and apparently the only way I can get it out of my thoughts is to put it down in words, so here we go…

I’m frustrated, I’m upset, and the longer I think about the way this game was written, the more problems present themselves… and I bloody hate that. It feels like a first draft writing effort, and every time I’m reminded that this game was in development for so many years, I cannot fathom this being the end result. Dragon Age 2 had 16 months of development, and it feels more cohesive and put together writing-wise. I can see the years of polish in the visuals, but the spectacle of the game doesn’t blind me to all the problems in the writing.

Naturally, these are personal opinions, I am genuinely thrilled for people who have played the game and enjoyed it – I wish I could be there enjoying it with you – but clearly these things get under my skin more and spoil the experience for me when they aren’t problems for you. And I also acknowledge there are genuine good parts of the game which I enjoy, but those moments aren’t enough to overshadow the negative experiences that irk me.

And because this post has apparently gotten away from me… I’m gonna put some headings to summarise the problems I’m having, because otherwise this is just a massive rant with no structure.

Show me things, stop just telling it to me.

So much of the game feels like writer’s notes where they put “what the player should take away from this scene” and instead of being creative with how they do that, they just say it verbatim. My immersion in this game was being broken by the game reminding me it’s a video game – which yes, I know it is, but I want to be invested in this world and feel like I’m part of it.

Varric and the game’s own pop-up system is the main problem that’s consistent through the whole game – constantly dropping narration or mission summary where they have zero problem dropping exposition on us and/or spoiling future content. Forget letting me explore these things and reach my own conclusions, the game is going to make sure I know exactly the interpretation I’m meant to have for every moment.

And it’s so damn frequent, I feel like they don’t think I’m paying attention and therefore need to constantly poke me with reminders instead of trusting me to reach my own conclusions. Do they not trust me to have an attention span long enough to go on a walk with Davrin without reminding me at the end of the walk that I did that?

To add to that problem, I absolutely hate how the writing just has people know things – they shouldn’t know this, they shouldn’t be talking to us about this, all evidence points to them not being able to know or be ok discussing this, but for some reason they do.

The Veil Jumpers suddenly just know how to translate and interact with ancient elven artifacts, ignore how the Dalish have been trying to do that since the fall of the Dales (and realistically, even before that) and their efforts over those hundreds of years were a scrap, a pittance of what could be known. But I guess the Veil Jumpers are just better than those hundreds of years in the few years they’ve been active.

Oh, and the scary reputation of the Dalish is just gone? These people just go to the elves they have deemed “savages” because they simply know these ones have good intentions? This world has been established as very untrusting of the intentions of other groups, but that’s simply gone now for this one – I wish I was shown how this started in some way instead of just being told it’s chill now.

And don’t get me started on Strife and Irelin and their seemingly endless knowledge that they shouldn’t have. I read the comics, I get that they’d probably know about the Dreadwolf and have a vested interest in learning more once that particular bit of information was revealed to them – but they somehow also just know about the mask Cyrian is wearing? They know it will influence him but not control his will? Why do you know this with no doubt whatsoever?

Why can’t these things just be presented as theories? Or give us something to find and reference where that information comes from? I want to learn things without just having characters tell me things they know.

And overall, I hate how this game decides to just exposition dump information on us, then we sit around and talk about the exposition dump – it’s overwhelming in magnitude. It feels like such a passive way to have us engage with everything, and this is supposed to be an interactive experience. Instead of being force-fed exposition in big chunks, drip feed details, let us put the puzzle together, let us gather and discuss what we learn with multiple interpretations like the RPG this is meant to be.

And this exposition problem also ruins the stakes in the game for me. Personal interpretation, probably, but the stakes in this game feel artificially inflated to me via having characters constantly tell Rook they are going up against the biggest threat ever. We bring in past heroes of the series to reiterate that, how they think we’re up against worse things than they faced… and I don’t feel that. Telling me constantly how hopeless things are, but every obstacle ends up being overcome relatively easily and without great losses… no, I don’t feel the stakes are real.

Oh, and hearing the talk of how all of Thedas is in trouble, there is so much destruction and only Rook can save them… why don’t you find a way to show me that? Because I’m not feeling that, I’m not seeing it, and I’m starting to think the Inquisitor is making stuff up so Rook doesn’t ask them to get involved again when they’re so busy.

This is a lore problem in the series…

Plot holes and wonky lore can happen, it’s not surprising… especially when there are three games prior to this as well as several books, comics, and other branches of the universe. There have been inconsistencies since the start, and a lot of it doesn’t matter – I don’t care if the second moon is forgotten about, the moon not being there isn’t going to make a problem with the way the story is told since that moon is never something elaborated upon in the plot.

This game though… it has problem that are both related to information in this game not being consistent with previous games, and information within its own contained plot contradicting itself.

I’m not going to beat the dead horse of “this isn’t how the previous games did it/explained it”, people who played the previous games are aware, I don’t see a point of elaborating in detail all the instances of this. Just take some dot points of the one’s I noticed:

The Crows are a horrifying organisation that are suddenly presented wholesome

The Qun offering to rehabilitate Karash is horrifying and it’s presented wholesome

Slaves are meant to be everywhere in Tevinter, but we don’t see that

Racism is supposed to be rampant in Tevinter (and other nations, but particularly here for any non-human), and we also don’t see that

Handling pure lyrium is fine now (unless you’re Harding)

Adult Dalish without vallaslin (Elgar’nan’s captives)

Fenharel’s agents are just gone now – as are all signs of mass elven exodus from cities

Solas’ opinion on blood magic is suddenly negative instead of neutral

Spirits dying is given the same weight as people dying

Flemeth…….just everything about Flemeth and Morrigan

Re-write of the after credits scene in Inquisition to recontextualise the Flemeth and Solas interaction

Isabela’s attitude towards Shathann sending Taash away without their knowledge (the comics make me doubt she’d be cool with this)

Non-Dalish elves knowing things about ancient elves and elven language

Blight sickness and how darkspawn are “born” (some leeway for this one since the blight is overall just different in this one, but it does feel less interesting this way)

Morrigan naming the Crossroads in lieu of the true name being lost to time, but everyone uses the term now

Crossroads looking different through elven eyes

You can’t just make people be magic/not magic (me side-eyeing Illario and his random ability to do magic now)

This is a contained problem in this game…

What troubles me more is the inconsistencies within the same game… that isn’t just deciding “this is how it works now in this iteration”, this is a problem that they wrote into existing, then either didn’t notice or didn’t resolve appropriately. And granted, some of these things aren’t inherently plot holes, but when you put certain aspects under inspection, it doesn’t make things look good.

For starters… I have to talk about Varric. Or more accurately, not-Varric.

I’m under the impression that not-Varric is simply Rook’s memory of Varric being projected for them. I personally don’t think there’s some extra level of Solas interference in what Rook is seeing moment to moment… and I feel the need to state that because Rook’s memory cannot conjure up information that Rook doesn’t know.

So why does not-Varric point out that the ritual dagger is the dagger from DA2?

Rook could not recognise it, there is absolutely no reason for Rook to even theorise that – so not-Varric should not be able to impart this knowledge to Rook. And what makes this worse for me, aside from being an impossible situation as the plot presents it, is that this observation doesn’t matter in the slightest. They put this backstory to the McGuffin Dagger and I don’t know why since all it does is create a plot hole. The only purpose I can see for this moment existing at all is to bolster the illusion that not-Varric is real and trying to help with the cause in whatever way possible.

Then there are other issues with Varric not being alive which makes other character’s lack of talking about him feel awful. Like, it’s not natural the way people avoid mentioning him when it would be very appropriate to do so – and I understand that to an extent, the game’s gotta game – they want to surprise us and therefore the characters aren’t going to blatantly give the surprise away early. But the Inquisitor doesn’t ask after him at all? Doesn’t mention how Kirkwall is coping now that the viscount is dead? Dorian doesn’t say anything after learning Varric found Solas in his city and then died? Isabela has nothing to say about Varric until after the illusion is broken for Rook?

It makes it feel like Varric’s friends (aside from Harding, the only person who seems to actively mourn him at the start of the game) don’t give two shits that he’s gone.

That’s not even accounting for how characters don’t bother to check in with Rook who is constantly talking with the companions about their various issues of mourning, hearing voices or apparitions, and just checking in with them overall – but none of that is seemingly reciprocated.

Frankly, this makes me feel awful. I feel awful for Varric being seen as so disposable that his friends don’t mention him or his absence. I feel awful for Rook who is apparently not worth the direct effort that they offer others.

And I try to think of how a new player to this series would feel about all of this – because Varric was just some guy who walked us through a tutorial in this game. Most of our time with him is fake, any connection I saw form between Rook and Varric in this game isn’t real – but then Rook mourns Varric more than he mourns the companions we have spent most of the game with.

I don’t like it.

And I don’t like the utilisation of returning characters. Morrigan, or as she’s utilised in this game deus-ex-Morrigan, has a new view of Flemeth and therefore she will take on Mythal’s soul fragment so she can again swoop in and save the day by handing us the means to get a reconciliation type ending… it couldn’t be something that characters in this game figure out, just have a returning character provide us with the magic solution. Also ignore how the whole reason Morrigan was afraid of her mother in the DAO and DAI was that her body would get taken over by her spirit… but I guess that doesn’t happen now. We can just create new rules for this iteration because it’s easier to tell the story this way.

Solas is also just… I’m so upset by what was done with him. He was a character in DAI who told half-truths or lied by omission, leaving others to assume false information without him actually saying it – it was never just blatant lies to take advantage of others. And his motivations were about restoration of something he felt he had robbed the world, it was about righting what he viewed as a mistake which lead to such a cascade of problems that he needed to somehow rectify it. Whether you agree with his point of view or his desires doesn’t matter, his principles remain the same in terms of what motivates him.

Then this game happens and he’s just a liar constantly, and not even a clever one if you can apparently just trick him up with a “woopsie, this isn’t the real dagger”, and he also apparently has no insight into the idea that Rook would anticipate that.

They make him act like the worst interpretation someone could have of him, the thing he actively was trying to tell us was a false interpretation in DAI and the comics. But history was written and remembered by those who experienced the negative outcomes of his choices, and they remembered that as the greatest evil in comparison to what else could have been. But apparently in this game, that’s the truth now. His motivation is about his desires and he cares nothing for the people who has hurt or will be hurt. But it’s ok, because just as easily as his motivation changed between DAI and Veilguard, it will be changed again at end game if you listen to deus-ex-Morrigan.

Then there are smaller things, but things that really would have been caught if someone was just paying a little bit of attention…

Like Harding and Emmrich going camping in Fereldan… which if we’re to believe the things the Inquisitor was saying about Southern Thedas, I don’t think you’re going to have a fun trip. But I’m glad they’re able to find some time for a vacation while the refugees are getting blighted all over.

Or Rook actively saying “I should talk to Varric” directly in front of characters in the lead up to end-game, and those characters choosing to completely ignore that.

Or in Neve’s companion story, Aelia deciding to interrogate the witness to the red lyrium deal right next to where it happened. She didn’t need to be in the area, she was puppetting the smuggler, and she clearly has insight into what the person is seeing and doing while puppetting them. So I guess she’s just there so we can figure out she was involved.

Or the game telling us that Anaris need Cyrian to perform rituals for him since Anaris doesn’t have a physical body to do them himself… except he apparently doesn’t because he can kill Cyrian when he disobeys. I still would like to know if Cyrian ever died originally, by the way, and if so how he’s back and seemingly normal – this game likes to answer big lore questions like it’s nothing, but they just gloss over details like this.

Or how in Emmrich’s missions, Manfred’s spirit dies and can just be brought back to life… so I guess spirits dying means nothing if they can be brought back with their memory and personality intact. So that Solas flashback where we were supposed to be appalled that spirits died? Apparently there was nothing lost there, someone just needs to revive them and they can carry on as normal.

Or how the rewrite of DAI’s ending cutscene implies that Solas killed Flemeth/Mythal… before he had the power to do so since the whole reason he has been able to do anything in this game is because he absorbed her amassed power. So Flemeth/Mythal would have to let her power go willingly since Solas should not be able to forcibly take it, but clearly, she didn’t since the dialogue we’re given is her being reluctant. Solas apparently has the power he needs to do things when the plot demands it, but also no power when the plot demands it (aka, when Rook needs to prove they’re better than him).

Or the crew making a fake Ritual dagger near end game. For no reason whatsoever. They just decided to do that knowing it would only be a prop, but they had no plans that even involved a prop at that point – so they just did this because the plot told them they had to.

And speaking of that Ritual dagger… all the old elves want that dagger for one reason of another, but they never seem to try to get it when they can, or they don’t seem too concerned when it’s not in their grip anymore. Solas doesn’t try to hold onto it after Varric gets stabbed. Elgar’nan doesn’t try to pick it up after it kills Ghilan’nain, in spite of him knowing it’s the one thing that can kill him… nope, just leave it there and peace out.

Or my personal most hated thing – Isseya and her stupid motivation making no sense.

I cannot fathom the logic of having Isseya, a warden who was forced to blight griffons, who came to resent this order as she watched the griffons go mad, made it her mission to safeguard a clutch of eggs, takes the blight from the eggs into herself while using magic to put the eggs into status, then goes off to her calling which doesn’t actually end in her death… and somehow, 400 years later, she’s decided that since those eggs have hatched and the griffons are healthy and unblighted, the thing she wanted, but they’re in the hands of wardens which she doesn’t really like, so now she’s gonna go get those griffons to blight them.

Literally doing the thing that made her so mad at the wardens. Because she wants to save the griffons from the wardens and their cruelty… by repeating it… I just… this is nonsense.

If she’s capable of articulating that she’s mad at the wardens for their cruelty to the griffons, then she shouldn’t be repeating it thinking she’s saving the griffons. If she was just keeping the griffons captive to keep them away from the wardens, then I could buy that, but adding the element of her wanting to blight them just makes this nonsensical.

Oh and never talk the First Warden down – it will make the final scenes with Isseya even worse if he tells you about the feather from her griffon and show it to her. Because I don’t even think Isseya dies in that variant of the cutscene, she just says sorry and rolls on the floor while I guess Rook and Davrin let the griffons out…

Who is Rook?

Usually, in a game like this, choices are what make us feel like an active participant in the world. It helps us build up our own character and determine how/why they behave the way they do, and also how the world around them is shaped by the consequences of those moments.

But this game feels so stripped of choice, especially choice which is any way related to morality or priorities that aren’t standard ‘Hero traits’. Rook will always do the right thing, they can’t be motivated by personal desires, excitement, monetary gain, fame, etc…. and when Rook is forced to make a choice, there is no option which would be looked at as unreasonable by companions. They might give us an approval/disapproval pop up, but it never really feels like Rook is capable of being incompatible with anyone, they will always be seen as justified in companion’s eyes. And to me, this makes Rook as the game presents them incredibly bland.

Most of Rook’s unique characterisation happens in the character creator – the game gives us minimal chances to expand or form a personality for Rook that is significantly different from any other person who plays the game. We do the heavy lifting here, we transpose qualities on Rook because the game won’t give us meaningful opportunities to do that.

And not only do I feel like the game lacks choices that would help us define Rook, it lacks decisions that make me feel like I’m having any impact on the world overall. I can defend Minrathous or I can defend Treviso… this is the one choice we make which seems to actually shape the world we play in.

And it doesn’t even come up as something Rook can regret in the sequence about regrets… Rook apparently is faced with only regrets that are the result of other people’s decisions to volunteer to do something. But the one thing where Rook actually has to actively choose something, something they are actually responsible for the suffering on the side they don’t defend… that isn’t something they can regret.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Surely, if Rook should regret anything it should be the thing they feel direct responsibility for, no? But Rook doesn’t. Because Rook doesn’t regret anything they do, because they aren’t written with choices that they can regret since they aren’t seen as responsible for negative outcomes.

Honestly, that sequence might as well have been about mourning or sadness rather than regret, because Rook has to be upset at the loss of companions, we don’t get to influence that. But Rook isn’t regretful – that’s how they get out – but I can’t help but wonder why they didn’t then make us able to actively regret the legitimate choices we make, rather than feeling regret for our companions deciding to risk themselves.

Rook feels like an outside observer to everything that happens around them. They are the mediator, the sounding board, the magic-8-ball for decision making when companions need a push because they’re stuck. Sure, they do things, but for an RPG the way they go about things feels so linear.

And on another note… why is Rook seen as important? They start championing Varric’s cause in his absence, they want to stop the veil coming down and that starts with stopping Solas, then stopping Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain. But to the outside observer, Rook is just some guy who says they are on an important missions, and they really need to speak with all these important leaders of factions – just trust them, I’m sure the First Warden is happy to make time for a meeting. And also the First Talon of the Crows, I’m sure they are fine with just some foreign person saying they need to meet your leader.

What I’m trying to get at is that Rook has no title, your group isn’t given any proper title or status which these people can look at and assume Rook is being truthful, trustworthy, or even worth their time. No one has any reason to hear Rook out, but in this game, they either just do, or they don’t and it’s because they’re actually a bad guy.

But Rook is no one special. They realistically shouldn’t be trusted like they are, they should absolutely be struggling to be taken seriously by others but it’s portrayed as unfair when that does happen. But they’re the protagonist, and it’s like everyone in the world simply knows that. I want Rook to struggle, I want them to grow and prove themselves, but it feels like we skip passed that to get straight to the fantasy of being in charge and considered fit for that role.

Pacing and feeling like something was missing…

The start and ending throw a lot at us and expect us to keep on running – but then the middle portion of the game suffers due to the companions putting a stop sign on the plot so you can do their companion quests. And they aren’t shy about telling you “you need to stop and do our quests or we’ll be distracted at end game”… and again, thank you game for explaining game mechanics to me.

I was going to complete character quests, because if I care about the characters of course I’m going to do that. Having to actually pause the plot and have the characters explain to you that you have to care… I don’t know how to explain this, but it immediately took me out of the fragile immersion I was trying to get into. It makes me upset with the companions for reasons I can’t put into words. Maybe it’s because in one fell swoop it made me see them as checklists to be completed instead of people I wanted to know? I’m not sure, if someone had a similar reaction to this moment and has a better explanation, I would love to be enlightened on what it is that makes me so uncomfortable about this.

But I digress, the problem here is that the plot grinds to a halt. We stop doing things which feel like we’re advancing our plan of stopping the big baddies, we just kind of patter around and make sure our companions feel ok. And most of those missions to help our companions aren’t connected to the enemy we’re facing… Aelia, Anaris, Hezenkoss, Illario, The Dragon King, Isseya – they aren’t agents of the big baddies, they are just enemies that pop up at the same time as the big baddies are around, and are therefore making the situation worse.

So yes, we’re still doing stuff, but it feels like fluff. It feels like a detour while we just hope the world doesn’t burn while we stop to go on another picnic.

This is something that happens in a lot of games, the urgency isn’t real because you can stop progressing plot to go for a long walk if you want to – but in none of the other games did it feel so blatant to me. I still felt like most of the little tasks in the interim of plot advancement were at least advancing the cause in little ways… I don’t feel that with a lot of the things that happen in the middle of the game. It just becomes about companion missions; the bad guys will wait until we sort that out, the blight will stop advancing so we can have family dinners and go for walks.

And I really don’t know how to explain this, but it feels like something is missing in how the story progresses. Like extra things were meant to be happening and they are just not there. Maybe this is another part of how the game often just tells me things that happen in scene transitions, or it’s me really wishing there were more actual plot advancing missions in the middle of the game.

This problem I think also is most evident in the romances. Veilguard seems to take its romance pacing more from the Mass Effect games than the previous Dragon Age games – and while it was acceptable in Mass Effect to have very few romance scenes, and predominantly only having one big scene which culminates at end game, but suddenly introducing it in this series makes it feel like a huge downgrade from previous instalments.

It feels like we’re missing things, we’re given banters by companions commenting on the progress of our relationship and our partner can talk about how close they feel to our Rook – we’re given the impression our relationship is strong and established midway through the game. But with how strong the characters talk, it feels like we should have experienced so many more interactions with our partner to substantiate that.

For comparisons sake, in DAI if you enter a romance prior to going to the Winter Palace, you get romantic dialogue with your partner if they’re present, you get a dance, you get to feel like you’re in a relationship as it’s developing into something deeper. You get more interactions as the game goes on, moving from spoken interest, kisses, and intimacy (in most cases). It’s a slow build, and let’s you feel the build up by giving you glimpses of each step as the relationship develops, and then letting you just experience being in the relationship.

This game feels like it gives us the bare minimum in actual content, but has characters talk about how established the relationship is. The heavy lifting is again left to us to interpret all these blank spaces and fill in how this relationship is developing. The problem isn’t inherently with what the game gives us, it's what it doesn’t.

It lets us choose a relationship in the middle of the game, then it doesn’t give us all the progression – rather it gives us the minimal amount of snippets to meet the checklist of “they express interest, they mutually agree to be in a relationship, the relationship is consummated physically”. Sure, we can continue to pick flirt/love based dialogues, but it doesn’t feel nearly as strong as the banters seem to be telling us it is. And over all, we can go a very long time between each progression point.

I love this franchise, and I so desperately wanted to like this instalment… and instead I feel hollow.

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #dav #dav spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dav critical #veilguard critical #i'm just sad #i don't know how else to articulate it #it looks so pretty but feels so empty #i don't like being negative about things #i'd rather enthusiastically talk about things i love #but i just can't stop ruminating on this

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slytherin-pen · 10 days ago

Note

i am in desperate need for more cazriel x reader !! I’m on my period currently and was hoping u could write abt reader being grouchy and having an attitude and how they cope w it … w lots of fluff ofc <3

Chocolate Troubles

pairing: Cazriel x Reader

word count: 1.1k

a/n: hope you enjoy, anon. we’re suffering together unfortunately.

You didn’t mean to be a total brat, but it felt like a tiny, angry child was kneading your insides like playdough and really, how else were you supposed to act?

A part of you felt guilty for your poor mates who had to put up with you, but the other part was ready to crawl into a hole and sob while simultaneously burning down the house.

“That’s the wrong chocolate,” you groaned, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “I said dark with coconut, not milk with raspberry jam, Cass, do you want me to cry or are you just into watching females suffer?”

Cassian froze mid-step in the middle of the living room, brows drawn in the expression of a male who has fought countless battles but knows this one might be the most dangerous.

“They were out of coconut chocolate,” he said carefully. “But I got three kinds of other chocolate. And a heated blanket. And that herbal tea Az says helps with cramping.”

You buried your face in a pillow and whined. Loudly. It was a full-body complaint. Crampy. Hungry. Emotional. Rage-adjacent. All of it rolled into one frustrated sound that made your mate wince.

“Just throw me into the Sidra,” you muttered. “Let me float away and become a bitter little river nymph.”

Cassian laughed, and the absolute nerve of the male, you should grab him by the balls and—

But then he’s crouched in front of you, cupping your cheek with a big warm hand. His other hand rested on your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into the tense muscle.

“Do river nymphs get chocolate?” he asks, his voice low and coaxing. “Because I did get this…”

From behind his back, he pulls out a fourth bar of chocolate—the exact kind you wanted. Dark with coconut.

You blinked. “You lied.”

“You’re so cute when you’re being dramatic, I can’t help but poke the bear sometimes,” Cassian said as he grinned.

Before you can thank him or fake being mad just to be a brat, Azriel appears and sets a tray on the coffee table. It holds a mug of tea, a heating pad, your favorite sweater of his, and—

“You made brownies?” you ask, eyes widening.

Azriel gives a small, sheepish nod. “With extra fudge, just the way you like.”

Your eyes well up with tears.

You’re not sure if it’s the pain or the love, but both males freeze like they’re preparing for a flood.

Az crouched beside you next to Cassian and gently smoothed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Is this a good cry or a bad cry?”

You sniffled. “I’m not sure yet.”

Cassian held up the brownie like an offering to a goddess. “Good cry if you eat this?”

You snatched it from him and took a bite so rich it practically melts into your soul. It’s warm. Gooey. Perfect.

“Good cry,” you confirm around a mouthful.

Both males visibly relaxed.

They don’t ask to cuddle. They just move with the easy rhythm of long-practiced affection. Azriel gathered you into his lap on one end of the couch, arranging the heated blanket over you. His hand slid beneath the hem of your sleep shorts to rest against the small of your back, applying gentle, consistent pressure that somehow makes the cramps less agonizing.

Cassian lounged on the other end, pulled your legs across his lap and massaged your calves, his thumb catching a knot in your aching muscles.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” you said, squinting at them with dramatic judgment.

Cassian smirked. “I feel like that’s something I’m going to hear twelve more times today.”

“Twelve?” Az echoed. “Low estimate.”

You elbowed them both half-heartedly. “Don’t bully me”

Cassian leaned over and pressed a kiss to your knee. “We would never. We love you.”

Azriel rested his cheek against your temple. “Even when you’re a hormonal little menace.”

You gasp. “You take that back.”

“You threatened to unmate me this morning because I gave you the wrong spoon,” Az pointed out, calmly sipping his tea.

“It was the big spoon instead of the little spoon. It was offensive,” you said, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

Cassian howled with laughter and you whacked him with a couch pillow. You quickly regretted the action when it sent a new wave of cramps rippling through your abdomen.

You groaned, curling forward.

“Shh, hey,” Az said quickly, rubbing slow circles into your back. “That bad again?”

“Mmhmm.”

Cassian’s hands moved to your thighs, warm and soothing. “Want me to get the balm?”

“Don’t touch me with that minty demon slime again,” you grumbled into Az’s chest. “It burned my uterus last time.”

“I think it just tingled,” Azriel said gently.

“Well why don’t you try it and see if it just tingles?”

Azriel shared a look with Cassian that said, Do not argue. Not today. Cassian wisely nodded and switched tactics, rubbing your calves again with practiced ease.

“You want a bath?” Cassian offers after a moment. “I’ll run it. Real hot. Bubbles, salts, whatever you want.”

“Not now,” you mumbled. “Too sore.”

He cooed and leaned down to kiss the side of your knee again. “Tell me when and I’ll carry you in.”

Azriel hummed. “You should nap.”

You snorted. “Every time I nap, I wake up sweaty and in pain and convinced I’ve missed five appointments I don’t actually have.”

“You haven’t had any appointments in months,” Az said softly.

“Exactly.”

Cassian grinned and shifted slightly, brushing your ankle with the pad of his thumb. “So what’s the plan, General?”

You look at both of them, your two stupidly handsome, frustratingly doting males, and sighed.

“Plan is…” you muttered. “You keep massaging me, Azriel keeps holding me and reads the romance book I love and neither of you are allowed to complain.”

Cass sighed like he’d been sentenced to death.

“Deal,” Azriel said.

You smile, victorious. “Also I want to braid someone’s hair.”

Cassian raises a brow. “Yours?”

“No, yours.”

He arched a brow. “You want to braid my hair?”

“Yes! Oh, and put little bows in it, too. It’ll be so cute!”

Azriel laughed into his fist as Cassian, resigned but smitten, plopped onto the floor in front of you.

You braid Cassian’s hair. Azriel reads your favorite book softly. Cassian starts to open your chocolate while you’re distracted and you complain. He gives you a bite and the homicidal urge dissipates.

The cramps don’t go away. Your bones still ache, but you’re warm, safe, and so loved. And Cassian in two french braids tied off with bows helped significantly, too.

#acotar #sarah j maas #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x azriel #cazriel #cazriel x reader #acotar x reader #asks #period comfort

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myvoiddreams · 9 months ago

Text

Fragments of Starlight

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: With the impending war, Y/N is captured by Hybern's general. As they struggle to protect those they care about, they reflect on their unrequited feelings for Azriel and their insecurities within the Night Court.

Word Count: 4,585

Warnings: ANGST, violence, torture, dark themes

A/N: This is my first time ever writing anything like this. I am a true sucker for angst. This is meant to go along with some of the events of ACOWAR, but of course, it’s different. Please don’t come at me for not following it’s exact story line. ALSO, I know that Azriel or Feyre would NEVER, but it’s just for the heartache okay!!

Part 2, Part 3

------

Now

All of it, it was all going to shit. I don’t know how my ears weren’t bleeding at the sheer amount of noise coming from the chaos around me. So much screaming, but was it Hybern’s forces, or our own? Everything was ringing, my head throbbing along with it. It was almost as if my breaths were not reaching my lungs. I was on the ground, all fours underneath me as I tried and tried to get myself to my feet. Everything was sore, it was like my muscles were not working. I stretched for the source of the aching on my temple and what I found was the warm, wet consistency of fresh blood.

My family, where is my family? Panic drenched me like a bucket of ice water.

With a groan, I grabbed my sword that lay beside me and turned to face the sky, now sitting at least. The sky, it was so blue. It almost felt like a disgusting joke to see something so beautiful, as dead bodies lay at my feet. Hybern’s forces were surrounding me, there was no escaping this.

I grit my teeth as I stand, my blade in hand. Dizziness rolls off me in waves, so much so that nausea is found coursing through my veins. I don’t get very far up before I’m slammed back down to the earth. My face hits the dirt as all the air leaves my lungs, leaving nothing but the taste of the earth and blood in my mouth. There is someone standing on my back, applying enough pressure I’m sure I’ll have a broken rib or two.

“Don’t go too far, sweetheart. We are just getting started with you.” A cry of pain leaves my lips as one of Hybern’s generals continues to crush my ribcage. The nausea and ringing in my head is too much. Then, with another blow to my head, everything is dark.

---

Before

“Oh, come on now sweet cheeks! You can do better than that. Az and I trained you myself!” Cassian’s voice was oh so annoying as he pinned me to my back. Sweat was gleaming across both of us as we spent the morning training. I was panting as my mind continued to reel.

Life had gotten tense with the Inner Circle recently. Not only was Prythian on the cusp of war with Hybern, but now we had to juggle the two newly made Fae that were the Archeron sisters.

I honestly felt bad for them. They did not ask for this life. I can only image what it would be like to go through life having your humanity ripped from you. Now knowing that you are going to be around for centuries instead of decades. And I felt bad for Feyre, who never wanted to see her sister’s dragged into this.

Usually, Azriel would be here with Cassian and me. Usually. It seemed as though Azriel had been getting far in over his head with the middle Archeron sister as of late. I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. But, I would never admit that fact out loud. Elain was half here and half not. Whenever she did speak, she’d just spew some crap that didn’t make any sense. But, that didn’t stop Azriel from spending any time he was not preparing for the war, with her.

Azriel. My heart seized at just the mention of his name. I had known the Shadowsinger for centuries. I stood by his side as he faced his own inner turmoil about Rhys being taken from us right under our feet. I stood by him even before that as I watched Windhaven and Devlon try to take was little he had away from him. Really, I had stood by everyone in this Inner Circle. But Azriel, Az was different. This too I would never admit out loud.

It took me holding him one night, after he had dreamt of his hands being lit aflame again, that it snapped. In all his vulnerability, it just, snapped. Az and I had shared a connection, a friendship, and I had loved him far long before the mating bond clicked in place. It only felt right that it was him. But, it hasn’t snapped for him.

It hurt, every single day, it hurt. And to watch him try so hard to make whatever it was happen with Elain, who was mated to someone else, made me feel worthless. This too, was not his fault. How was he supposed to know when I refused to breathe a word of it. Honestly, it might be a good thing, the distance. It hurts, but Azriel deserves happiness. I don’t know if I’m the one who can give him that.

“Damnit Cass!” I grunted as I fought back from his restraint.

“You are letting yourself get sloppy, Y/N. No room for that on the battlefield.” His face was smug. I felt some embarrassment creep up my neck and find its way on my cheeks.

“I know, I know.” I huffed. “Just let me up already.” I gave up on fighting back. Recently I found myself lacking the energy I used to have. I used to be full, driven, but I have found myself distant lately.

“Look, are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? You have not had your head in the game recently.” He stood and held a hand out to me. Cassian only wanted to check on me, it was nice really. I just wasn’t used to it. I had been the one the members of this court had always leaned their heads on. There just seemed to be no room for the others to do the same for me. So, I never asked them to. I wasn’t going to start now.

“I’m fine Cass, just tired.” I retorted.

“Aren’t we all sweet cheeks.” He said as he patted my back.

---

Now

Fire is crackling somewhere near me, but I can’t feel its warmth. I feel myself chained up. My arms were far above my head, hanging me from a support post. My feet had been stripped of their shoes, and now chains wrapped around my ankles. My body hurt, breathing hurt, and my head hurt. I was sure that this hellhole was only going to make it worse.

“Ah, there she is. Glad to see you actual awoke, we were starting to get worried.” Spoke the same general who broke my ribs.

I kept my mouth shut, only glaring at the direction of the voice. My vision was still blurry, and where I hope there was only one of him, I saw three.

The entrance flap of the tent open and closed to reveal another male. This one, I recognized. The King of Hybern himself.

“If it isn’t Y/N of the Night Court. I have to say, my men did a fine job bringing you in here for me. Wouldn’t you say so?” His voice was gruff. “Now that you’re here, we some questions we need answered, and I suggest you do answer them, dear. I’m sure you don’t want to find out what will happen if you don’t cooperate.”

I lazily lifted my head toward the King and sneered. “Try me.” I bit back, my voice laced with venom.

“Oh, I was afraid you’d say something of those sorts.” The king waved in another male, he was in head to toe in black. Something similar to what I’d see our very own Shadowsinger wear. Only this male was no where near the build of Az, but damn, did he look pissed.

The male pulled out a small dagger that was sheathed on their waist and made his way closer to me. I couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape my lips, “Size does matter you know,” I quipped. I know this man was here to interrogate me, but I could not let these people know how truly vulnerable I felt.

“Oh? I beg to differ.” The male stated as he plunged the dagger into the flesh of my calf.

---

Before

Rhys wanted to have a family dinner tonight. It would be the first one in quite a long time. With everything going on, who was to blame anyone? I couldn’t say I was looking forward to it though. I used to love the time I could spend with my family, but now, it wasn’t the same. Not when my family was no longer the same.

Rhys had Feyre, who don’t get me wrong, I love, and I love to see Rhys have the mate he has always deserved. But, with the additions of the Acheron sisters came with something strained. Cass hasn’t said anything, but I see the way he looks at Nesta. Nesta, who wants absolutely nothing to do with him, or any of us for that matter. Mor and Amren hadn’t been around as of late. Both were too busy preparing for this inevitable war. Mor with being an emissary and Amren with working out some logistics of the Cauldron.

And Az. Azriel was no longer seeking me out. No longer spending time in the training ring or the library with me. Instead, he was with Elain.

And then, there was me. Before this family all I was, was alone. Finding this family had saved me in more aspects than one, but I can feel it shifting under my feet, about to give way and take me with the edge of it.

This though, is something I would never speak about. There is enough going on as it is. No one needs to be burdened about me, my unreciprocated feelings for the Shadowsinger, or my silly feelings of insecurity. I’m a friend to the court, a warrior, sometimes an advisor, but, I am nothing compared to the rest of them. I simply do not hold enough importance, and that is something I must live with. Something I am terrified they will realize as well.

I was the last to make it to the table. Cauldron, even Elain is here. And next to Elain was Az. Hazel eyed, messy haired, Az. We caught each other’s eyes. I couldn’t help but let a smile creep up onto my face in greeting, and he smiled back.

I took my seat next to Cass and Amren and looked at the table around me. Even though war was around the corner, it felt good to gather as if nothing was wrong. Conservation started buzzing, everyone started eating, and I drifted off to a place that wouldn’t hurt me.

—-

Now

Sweat is dripping off me in beads. My body is littered with cuts and bruises. But, I didn’t say a word. Not a single word about the size of our armies, not a word about what Rhys and the others had planned, not a word about our allies. Not a word. And I was paying for it.

Gods. They had left me here, giving me a break from the beatings and the torture. Whatever the used must have been laced with faebane because I have never felt this weak. This out of control of myself. I wasn’t healing, and I was still losing blood. At this rate, it wasn’t looking good. I was still hanging from my arms, I’m sure at this point I had a shoulder out of it’s socket. A rustling began again at the entrance of the tent.

“Back for more?” I croaked. My throat was completely dry from the screaming. But, when I got my eyes open enough to see what the cause of the noise was, my heart stopped dead in it’s tracks.

Elain.

---

Before

I retreated from dinner early. As pitiful as it sounds, I couldn’t be around it. I couldn’t stand to see Azriel with her any longer. Not when I knew he was the one who was slowly healing her and ruining me.

Knocking at my bedroom door pulled me from my thoughts and I was looking into a book, not really reading it. “Come in,” I shouted.

The site of Azriel caught me off guard. Once upon a time, it was normal for him to seek me out from my room. Now, it simply wasn’t. I couldn’t help but tense.

“Oh! Az!” I put my book down and stood. “How are you doing?” I smiled up at him.

“You would know if you hadn’t left dinner so early.” He looked down at me, frowning and crossing his arms. It was rare that Az was upset with me.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m tired after training today.” I gave him a sad smile, not wanting him to push the issue further. “But please, tell me what I missed.”

This somehow made his shadows start to swirl around him and he huffed. “I was telling everyone how much progress Elain had made. She’s having actual conversations now.” He smiled at it, proud.

I tried not to show any hurt on my face. I have no right for this to hurt me. He was helping someone, and I had to be pitiful enough that I was jealous.

“That’s amazing Az, you’ve helped her a lot.” I let another smile grace my face. Before I knew what I was saying it was falling out of my lips, “But, you do realize that she is mated, right?”

Azriel’s demeanor shifted. His shadows became agitated, “Elain is a friend. She is going through a lot, and she needs support.” He sighed, “Plus, I think that cauldron could be wrong.” That sentence alone was enough to rip whatever was left in me to shreds. Why couldn’t he see me?

I had to take a deep breath to keep the silver lining in my eyes in place. “Az, when in your life have you ever seen the cauldron be wrong? Why would it start being wrong now?”

“Look, maybe you’ll understand one day, but it’s wrong about her and Lucien.” He crossed his arms now.

“It sounds like you want to it be wrong. Whether it is, or not.”

Azriel was growing frustrated. His eyebrow ticked and he huffed, “Can you blame me for wanting something more?”

“She is mated Azriel. Off limits.” I tried to stress him. “I don’t want to see you hurt if it doesn’t turn out the way you want.” I sighed. “I wouldn’t want my mate ripped away from me, I’m sure Lucien doesn’t either.” He doesn’t even realize that I’m talking about him. Not a single clue.

“Ripped away? Look Y/N, just because you’re alone, does not mean I have to be. Why are you making this about you?” He nearly snarled at me. Snarled. “I have finally found another purpose other than this war. I have found something, someone, to spend my time with and enjoy.”

His words hit me like an arrow to the chest. Alone. Maybe they all did see me, and they just didn’t care. Why couldn’t I be enough for him? Why hadn’t in all the time and cherished memories we have together be enough. We had held each other in hardship. We had trained together. We had grown together. We had spent countless Starfalls together. We had shared so many laughs and touches. Why wasn’t what we had enough for him?

The weight of Azriel’s words hung in the air, heavy silence settling between us. My heart ached with the sting of his remark, and I fought to keep any of my remaining composure.

I deflated, “Az,” I tried to sigh as he cut me off again.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so insecure, you’d see that I’m just trying to help someone who’s been through a lot. You’re jealous and it’s clouding your judgment.” He stared at me, and I had to look away. I didn’t realize it but I began to shake. I couldn’t tell if it was from rage, or from the way my heart cracked as he spoke.

“I think you should go Az.” My voice began to break, and I could tell that my walls were going to come down. Not once had I ever asked him to leave.

His own eyes softened, and he reached for me, “Wait.”

He tried to continue but I cut him off, “Leave, Azriel.” I turned to face away from him. I gathered my arms together. I couldn’t let him see the tears that were rolling down my face, I wouldn’t.

He pulled his arm back to himself and hesitated, seeing the pain he was causing me. Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind with a heavy finality.

---

Now

Elain. What the fuck was she doing here?

Seeing her tore me from my stupor. She acted as if she was in a trance, half there. I was really panicking now. I could take this torture and pain, Elain, I don’t think she would last. I could hardly pull at my restraints at this point.

“Elain! Elain!” I screamed at her, trying to get her attention. One of the males that was hauling her in, left her side and strolled to mine. Next thing I knew I was tasting my own blood in my mouth as his fist met with my face. As the blood welled up in my mouth, I felt rage hit me. I spat at him. His face now coated with the bloody saliva that he caused me.

He wiped his hand over his face, ridding it of its bloody covering. I snarled at him as he drew a blade. Good. This way the focus would stay on me and not Elain. He brought the blade to my face, slicing a thin mark down my cheek. “If you wanted more, you could’ve just asked.” He trailed the blade down my neck, and now to my collar bone, all the while slicing lightly as he went. He brought his lips to my ear and his hand grabbed my face, “I have so much more than just blades and fists in store for you, girl.”

It was almost too hard to stomach. I didn’t want to know what he was alluding to. Elain, do this for Elain. I told myself. I kept silent and he pushed me away, returning to the other male who was already putting Elain into restraints.

Why is she here? Why is she not fighting back?

As they finished with her restraints, Hybern himself walked back into the tent.

“Cauldron be damned, if it’s not also Feyre’s cauldron made sister.” Hybern chuffed, “We are truly going to have such a fun time together.” He chuckled as he looked between Elain and I.

He nodded at his men and they both reach for their knives. One for me. One for Elain.

“Wait!” I blurted as I saw the man move toward Elaine, “Please, leave her unharmed.”

“Hmm,” hummed Hybern, “Now, tell me pretty thing, why would I do that?”

“She’s a Seer. Please, you must leave her unharmed or she will be no use to anyone. She will not come out of any trance if she is harmed.” I didn’t know if what I was blabbing was true. I only knew that I needed to protect Elain, for she could not protect herself.

Hybern nodded again at the male who was at Elain’s side. The male sheathed his blade and I let out a silent sigh.

“You on the other hand,” Hybern turned his attention back on me, “I have some questions about pretty Elain.” A wicked smile reached the lips of the male in front of me, as he lifted his blade threatening. “You, dear Y/N, best answer them.”

The male reached for my shirt and tore it in half. Now leaving my chest and abdomen exposed to the air, only a warrior’s wrap covering my breasts. I gasped at the bite of the air reaching my skin. My abdomen was littered with black and blue bruising from the beatings. The faebane in my system slowing any kind of healing.

I turned my face to a stone grimace. I could do this. I told myself. If nobody comes for you, then surely someone will come for Elain.

That truth hurt almost as much as the torture that I was being put through.

---

Before

It had been about a week since I’d seen Azriel. The bond that used to hum in my chest felt vacant. Rhysand had sent me and Cassian to one of the Illyrian war bands that were positioned in case of an attack.

It was a single flaming arrow that was sent into a tent that set everything into utter chaos. Cassian was in the middle of a meeting with some of the other commanders, and I was in the training ring.

Hybern’s forces hit us as if we were nothing but an anthill in their way.

I don’t know where Cassian was as I fought and fought, until I was brought down.

---

Now

I was hardly holding on. I had no energy to cry out anymore. No energy to even lift my own head up. My abdomen and back was near ribbons after that male drove his blade into me again and again.

Elain had seemed to snap in and out of it. When she was somewhat coherent, she would only cry. I felt bad for her, but I had done what I could do protect her. There wasn’t a single scratch on her.

At thinking of Elain my mind drifted to Azriel. I wonder if he’s looking for me, if not, her.

The inner circle had to know that something was wrong at this point. I only hope that Cassian was also okay after we were ambushed. I’m sure if he wasn’t, he’d be right next to me also receiving the beatings I was.

Blood dripped down my back, creating a small pool under me. I truly didn’t know how much longer I would last. I had never felt weaker in my life.

I should’ve told him that night. Anguish was suffocating me. I found myself retracing everything I did as of late. The way I stole myself away from my family because I was being nothing but pitiful. The way they started to treat me differently. The way one no one would come to me anymore, and I would not go to them. No wonder they have left you here. You are nothing to them. My mind bit at me.

What truly bothered me was the downfall of mine as Azriel’s friendship. He was the one person I could always truly count on. If I had fallen in training, if I had drank too much, if some stupid male had broke my heart, it was always Azriel that had caught me, and me him. It’s why I fell in love with him long before the bond snapped its place into my heart. And now I was going to die without him ever knowing. I was simply going to fade away as my blood pooled underneath me.

It's better this way. I told myself. Elain is unharmed, and I will fade before anyone knows of this bond. The war will be won and Az will be able to move on with someone he finds joy in.

I couldn’t help but let tears run down my face. I wanted to scream, to find some way out, but with the faebane running through me, I was simply too weak.

---

I woke to the sound of rustling at the entrance of the tent. The rustling led to Elain, and I could hear her restraints being messed with. I nearly couldn’t pry my eyes open at the sound. Maybe they would finally take me from my misery. I silently hoped. That’s when I heard a quiet gasp. I looked up to see.. Feyre? And behind her, the one messing with Elain’s chains, Azriel.

My heart lurched to a stop. They had come to help, we were going to get out.

“Azriel..” Feyre quietly said as he brought Elain into his arms.

“What.” He nearly hissed at her. That’s when he looked up and truly saw me.

“Az.. Feyre..” I choked on my words. Help was here. I was going to get out of here. To make it. Finally something positive bloomed in my chest in place of where that hole had found itself.

Azriel set Elain back down and rushed to my side. He put a hand to my cheek, “Y/N, we couldn’t find you anywhere. Cass, he said you were missing after the battle.” His touch sent shivers down my beaten spine.

My restraints still bore heavily into my wrists where I was strung up. Then, there was rustling and yelling coming from outside of the tent.

“Help me down, please.” My voice was raw and pleading.

The yelling was getting closer and closer.

“Az, we have to leave, now.” Feyre said, trying to scoop Elain into her arms.

Azriel’s hand left my cheek, and panic flared into his eyes as he took in my state.

Hybern’s soldiers were coming, realizing something was wrong. Azriel looked between Elain and I, backing up from where I was strung up. He was backing away from me. Why was he backing away from me?

My own panic started to settle deep inside of me, long squashing any hope that had found it’s place.

“Azriel… please,” I coughed quietly. Dread was setting deeply inside of me. They didn’t plan on saving two. They came here for Elain, not me.

A sob found it’s way onto my lips as he picked Elain from Feyre’s arms. Feyre herself looking torn, her eyes expressing so much anguish.

“We will come back Y/N. I promise.” Azriel’s words were yet another punch to the gut.

I couldn’t help but let the sobs I had been holding onto for so long bubble out of me.

“Please don’t leave me here.” I cried, no longer caring for the quietness. They both stiffened at the sound of my voice. “Please,” I was gasping for air as this point, “If you’re not going to take me, then at least put me down.”

Their eyes widened at my statement, but I couldn’t hold for much longer. I needed this pain to end. This suffering to be over with.

“We will be back. I will come straight back.” Azriel hushly stated. His eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes were boring into me. They were trying to convince me he was telling the truth, but I knew better. I knew that they were only getting into the camp once successfully.

They chose Elain. They were going to leave me behind.

“Just kill me, please kill me…” I sobbed, “Please if you are going to leave me behind, then just kill me.”

Feyre was crying now, and Azriel. I knew, that even though he was choosing Elain, Elain to save, and Elain to love, he still wouldn’t harm me.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” Feyre bubbled out of her crying lips as she quickly left the tent under her cloak.

Azriel and I made eye contact again through my sobbing, through the tears that were leaving my eyes in force. “I will be right back. I will come back for you.” And then, he was gone. With Elain in his arms.

I broke, truly broke. No weapon could hurt me as much as the sight of who I loved most, my mate, leaving me here, strung up and bleeding out.

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #Acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel angst #angst #Azriel x reader angst

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hxxsxxng · 6 months ago

Text

Do You Believe in Fate? s.jy

「pairing」 : childhoodbestfriend!jake x afab!reader

「synopsis」 : read the preview here

「word count」 : 15.3k

「genre」 : A lot of angst, smut, somewhat fluff, college au

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! cursing, lot of nicknames, mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, hangover, poor mental state, kissing, cuddling, alcoholism, toxic friends (not jake), teasing, crying, begging, distress, groping (consentual), unprotected sex, pulling out, loss of virginity, lowkey size kink, oral (m and f recieving), titty sucking, sharing a bath tub, mentions of hospitalizations, implications of potential death, depression. this is a repost

「authors note」 : i want to thank everyone for motivating me to finish this story and writing this was truly an experience that will effect me as a writer moving forward. i am tagging all of my mutuals so hopefully i could get some feed back! i love every last one of you

「taglist」 : @jakeflvrz - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun-deactivated20241118 - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyuen - @sumzysworld - @wonsbaer - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @heeseungsbm

It was the summer before me and Jake’s junior year of university. We have been working all summer and it’s another other day at the office. Putting in check information for the bank was a lot more boring than I expected . Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. There was no time to do anything else. We were always told that if we went to college, we would have a good job. That proved to be wrong.

Both Jake and I are going through college together, though he landed a way better paying job than I did. When it comes to bills, he ends up having to pay more than me, but he swears up and down that it is not a big deal.

I set down my mug. I hear my phone ring. It’s Jake. “Hello?” he should be at work. “Hey Pumpkin, I got out early today, were there any groceries that we needed?”

“Oh, no I can’t think of anything.” “Okay, Stay safe, I will see you later.”

Jake never really got time off of work but when he did, I usually tried to stay out of his hair and let him relax. I just continued to run reports, pretty much twiddling my thumbs until the clock struck 5 and I would make my way out of this hell hole.

Traffic was terrible as usual. A usually 7 minute drive turned into an hour. Days like this I just want to get home and throw all my stuff on the ground and lock myself away in my room. Maybe watch some TV. Or listen to some music while my computer is hooked up to it. Anything that distracts from knowing I have to go back to the job I hate the next day. My thoughts are interrupted by a honk coming from behind me. The light turns green. Thank God. But as soon as I pull away from the curb, a car pulls out in front of me. Damn those stupid drivers. I don’t even know how many times this month I’ve had to pull over so they could let someone pass. It isn’t worth getting into a fight with them about. I try to ignore them.

I made it back to our house just in time for the sun to still be out. I made way into the house and Jake was in the kitchen. It was an unusual sight. His after work routine typically consists of cracking open a cold one and playing his computer. “Hey princess” he greeted me.

I stand at the front door, taking off my shoes and hanging my keys on the rack. “What has you in a good mood all of a sudden” I ask suspiciously.

“Well since I got off work early, I figured i’d come home and suprise you with dinner since you just been eating so much take out recently” he replied nonchalantly. The thought makes me sick. “You didn’t need to do that Jake.” “Oh yes, I did. You haven’t been cooking for yourself for a couple months now. I wanted to show you how much your best friend cares about you” he says.

Reguardless of what I say, the food is made and there is no taking it back. I guess I can’t really argue with him over it.

“And besides, I know you have missed your mom cooking pasta for us when we would go to her house in Australia, I figured I should make some do you instead” he adds.

I slowly approach the table. He is still finishing up plating everything. He looks up at me and smiles. “It smells good” I say flatly. He takes off the oven mitts and wipes his hands on it. He sets my plate down in front of me and he pulls out the chair to my right and takes a seat.

“So how was your day Jake?” I asked awkwardly. He starts digging in and responds, “Not too bad. What about yours?”

“Same shit different day. Boss is always yelling at me and the company keeps treating me like garbage even though I am the only one who actually gives a fuck.” I complained, eating a piece of garlic toast. It tasted good, surprisingly good, considering the amount of spices he used.

“Well I am glad it’s Friday so you can take some time to unwind over the weekend” he attempts to comfort me but at this point i’m too tired.

“I guess.” I poke at my food a little bit. Why does Jake’s job seem so perfect? he easily makes twice as what I make and I rarely hear him complain about working either.

“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, I am not going to force you.” I guess Jake noticed me being hesitant about eating the rest of my meal.

“It’s not that I don’t want to eat it’s just that I’m really stressed and I don’t want to keep you here listening to me complain about the same things over and over again”

“Look at me” he said. I slowly lift my head for my eyes to meet with his. “I promise I will never get tired of listening to you” he reassured.

There he goes again, sending those butterflies flapping in my stomach. I don’t understand why he is so gentle and compassionate. It gives me goosebumps. I decide I might as well stop procrastinating and start enjoying the evening. “Thank you” I say, giving him a small smile. His face immediately lit up. It’s kind of cute. The rest of dinner went rather smoothly. Jake kept the conversation going, mostly talking about my day and what his was about, and then we would drift off into silence. He looked so relaxed and calm that I felt completely at ease. Even if I knew I should feel bad for keeping him up with my whining, I couldn’t bring myself to.

I stand up from the table and wash my plate. “I don’t know if anyone told you today, but you look gorgeous as always” he sneaks up behind me. “You don’t look too bad your self Jakey” I returned. My face was already a dark hue of red.

I decided maybe tonight I won’t rot away in my room. It’s a Friday night, I’ll have a little bit of fun. Still inside the house though. It is probably too cold outside anyway. I realize I am still in my work clothes. I return to my room to take them off and throw on my most comfortable pair of shorts and a talk top and take my Nintendo Switch to the living room.

Jake was already waiting there for me. He had a bottle of wine and 2 empty glasses. He looked up when I entered and smiled. I gave a shy smile and sat down next to him. He pulled me closer to him, pressing himself against me. Our legs intertwined under the couch. For a moment I forgot about the work situation and the world. In that moment it just felt nice to sit close to someone who cared for me unconditionally.

“What were you wanting to play?” he breaks the silence. “I was thinking we could play some Mario Kart” I suggested.

“Yeah we can, but you already know I’m gonna kick your ass”. He loves teasing me. I punched his shoulder and chuckled.

~~~~~~~~~~

He is in my bed. I just woke up and he is in my bed. I don’t know how to react. Maybe I drank a little too much? I really don’t remember anything after playing a few rounds of Mario Kart. He looks so peaceful. His dark brown hair all tangled up on the pillow. The way his biceps look in his black tank top. He doesn’t snore, but the way he breathes when he sleeps is very cute. There is a slight hint of stubble on his chin, almost like he hasn’t shaved in awhile. His lips are slightly parted. His face shows such contentment and relaxation. He looks so damn beautiful. I have to admit he is pretty attractive and I think he knows it. And I can’t help but wonder about what would happen if I leaned forward and kissed him. His soft lips pressed up against mine. I think it would be okay. Probably wouldn’t hurt. Scratch that, it would probably hurt a lot.

I woke up surprisingly early for a Saturday morning. Usually I am in bed until noon, but it’s only 9:30. Opposite of me, Jake likes to start his weekends bright and early, so it is a bit strange that he isn’t awake by now. I won’t bother him. It’s probably better this way. I roll over onto my side facing away from him. I close my eyes trying to fall back asleep. But it seems to be impossible. My mind is too preoccupied and Jake’s body is far too close to mine for my liking. I groan quietly. It doesn’t help at all.

I crawl out of bed, doing my best not to wake Jake up. As soon as I step out of the room, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. It’s my mom. I guess I hadn’t returned and of her texts last night. She asks if I have slept okay and if I’ve eaten breakfast. When she sees I haven’t. She sends me a picture of the last time I was at her house eating spaghetti. “Just eat something sweetheart and take care of yourself” she reminds me gently. I sigh deeply before replying. “Mhmm thanks mom” I set my phone down on the kitchen counter and rummage through the fridge, hoping to find something appetizing for breakfast. As I search, I can't stop thinking about waking up next to Jake this morning. We've been best friends for so long, but recently I've started seeing him in a new light. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how considerate he is, it stirs up the feelings I've been trying to suppress. I shake my head slightly and settle on making some eggs and toast.

As I cook, memories of last night come flooding back. The wine, the laughter, the gentle way he pulled me close on the couch as we played games. My heart flutters just thinking about how natural and right it felt being cuddled up next to him. But I can't read too much into it. Jake is my oldest friend, he probably sees the intimacy as purely platonic. The sizzle of the eggs brings me back to reality. I quickly plate the food and grab a mug of coffee before heading to the living room. I'll just relax and enjoy this lazy Saturday morning.

I'm about halfway through my breakfast when I hear Jake's footsteps shuffling down the hallway. He emerges, hair sticking up adorably, letting out a big yawn. "Mornin' sunshine," he says with a sleepy grin. I feel my cheeks warm at the nickname. "Morning. I made some extra if you want it," I reply, nodding toward the kitchen. "You're the best." Jake passes over to dish up a plate, giving me a perfect view of his lean back muscles stretching against his thin t-shirt. I quickly avert my eyes as he returns to the couch. As he sits next to me, our arms brush and I feel that spark of electricity again.

Jake doesn't seem to notice, just digs into his eggs happily. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up again.

"That was a fun night last night, wasn't it?" His eyes meet mine with a warm smile. "We'll have to do it again soon." I return the smile, hoping he can't see the longing behind it. "Yeah, it was really nice." Nice to just relax and be ourselves without any expectations or pressures. Nice to feel...that close to him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jake has a friend named Jay. When Jake isn’t at work or at the house, he is most likely hanging out with Jay. Jay is a go with the flow kind of guy and was kind of a womanizer. There’s nothing wrong with it, but I try not to hang out with Jake when Jay is there for that reason.

Jake and Jay always go out for drinks on Saturday nights. I can’t remember the last time he was home on a Saturday night and I didn’t have to take care of him the next morning. He routinely stays at Jay’s house that night then gets an Uber back here the next morning.

Jake and Jay's Saturday night routine carried on like clockwork most weekends. Around 9 PM, Jay would pick Jake up and they'd head to their usual bar downtown. The two friends would drink heavily, telling outrageous stories and shamelessly checking out any attractive women who passed by.

For Jake, it was just a guys' night out away from work stress. But for Jay, it was a chance to flirt and see if he could add another notch to his bedpost. Jake didn't partake in that behavior himself, but he also didn't reproach Jay for it. He figured it was just Jay's way.

Come last call, the two would be pretty sloshed. Instead of dealing with an Uber that late, Jake would just crash at Jay's place. He'd wake up hungover the next morning and request a ride from a car service back home.

When he arrived home disheveled, I'd already have water and painkillers ready for him. I hated having to nurse him after these nights, but it was better than having Jay's leering presence around me. His constant objectification of women made me deeply uncomfortable. So I put up with Jake's hangovers to avoid that part of their friendship dynamic.

Jake opens the front door. I can hear him complaining about his headache already. He sets his keys down and immediately lays down in the couch.

"Hey babygirl, where is the aspirin? Do we have any aspirin left?" he asks groggily. A small chuckle escapes my lips before I turn around to look at him, smiling slightly. “I already got it out for you, and here is a glass of water”. His eyes are closed as I place the pills in his hand and he smiles once they make contact. “Thank you so much for taking care of me princess.” he praises as he shot the tablets into his mouth.

I giggle. This man is ridiculous. A loud yawn escapes his lips and I smile. As much as I hate seeing him like this, I am content with letting him have his fun every once in a while. His shirt is buttoned incorrectly, showing off his muscular chest. I look back at his face. His eyes were opened and he noticed me staring.

“What’s wrong Princess?” he slurs. “Do I look stupid or something?” “No Jake, you look great” I reply truthfully. “You just looked a little tired is all.”

Jake rolls over on the couch and turns onto his side. “I know you’re going to tell me I should rest more, but it’s so hard to sleep when you’re not in the same room.”

“Really? You usually fall asleep within seconds. Why is that?” He shrugs. “Don’t know babe. Just don’t like being alone.” I frown. That’s true enough. Jake never really liked being by himself. Ever since we were in diapers, he had always been surrounded by people. His parents, coworkers…me.

I decide to ask something rather personal instead. Maybe that will distract us for a while. “How’s your mom doing lately? Do you miss her?” Jake doesn’t respond right away. He starts fidgeting under my gaze. His hands begin picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.

“Yeah, yeah. I miss her. I wish she wouldn’t be working so much now. She used to work less back when we were high school, you know? I still get worried sometimes” he answers with a slight edge in his voice. “It’s okay Jake. You know she likes working for your dad. It helps pay for everything” I remind him softly. He nods slowly. After a few moments, he finally breaks the silence.

“Why do you ask?” I guess he was caught off guard by the question. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen them, Australia isn’t in walking distance, ya know.” I try to cheer him up.

He sighs and looks down at the couch. “I guess I just wish I was able to spend more time with her like I did when I was younger. It doesn’t matter though.” He shakes his head dismissively. “She’ll come visit whenever she can. I’m just glad we both decided to live somewhere else for college. I would definitely have missed our family trips.”

“Oh…” I bite my lip unsure what to say to comfort him. He’s always taken his mother very seriously. Even when he was young he often complained that she worked too hard and stressed herself out, which only made him madder. In all fairness, she did work extremely hard—even harder than he ever could. And now that she has found some semblance of stability, he worries that he won’t be able to provide for her the lifestyle he wanted for her.

I reach out and pat Jake's arm reassuringly. "I know how much you miss your mom. But she's doing what she needs to in order to help take care of the bills and your dad. You know she'd be here if she could."

Jake nods slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish there was more I could do from here, instead of feeling so helpless being so far away. I know my dad would want me there as well" He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "At least I have you around. Don't know what I'd do. You kinda of bring a feeling of home to me. I hope that made sense.”

I feel my cheeks flush a little at his words. "Well, you know I'll always be here for you," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.

“Thank you sweet heart.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Our parents went to University together. That’s how they met. My mom met Jake’s mom in a sociology class, and they have been best friends ever since. Being college bestfriend basically guarantees that your kid will have someone to grow up with, and they took advantage of that. He has litterally been there for every life event my mom felt was important enough to let him in on.

Though we didn’t become friends by choice, we were latched onto eachother ever since we were introduced. I remember I would ball my eyes out when even Jake got sick because it meant I couldn’t hang out with him after school or have play dates on the weekends. As we grew up, the situations weren’t as innocent. I would confide in him when I was upset, and he would hold me in his arms after my nightmares. I even found comfort in him after my numerous hearts breaks in highschool. Though none of my relationships were ever that serious, I was still unmistakably heartbroken.

Jake was never really a ladies man in highschool, or in general. He studied more on acedemics, which I guess was a good idea considering where he is now. Although I’d never said anything about it, his dating career was pretty dead for several years. In my opinion, it seemed unfair to Jake to not go on dates after highschool. While I understood why he wasn’t interested, it seemed a waste not to try. After all, I’m sure he could get any chick he wanted if he tried, I mean look at him. He had grown from a cute kid playing video games to one who had a perfect body and gorgeous features to match. So yeah, I loved that he was a boy and my friend. But there was no way I could give myself completely to such a man, especially with our history.

Jake is a lot different when I’m around, a lot more caring and loving. I’m reminded of all those times when I would find Jake crying when we came back from vacation during our sophomore year, or how he would suddenly appear at my room door at 5am looking for reassurance or help. At the time, I thought it was because he needed someone to talk to about the things troubling his mind, but now that I think about it , it’s kind of obvious he’s lonely. His dad has been in and out of the hospital recently. I don’t really want to push Jake into going into detail about his condition because it might make him emotional, but I just know that it is another thing that is weighing on him.

When I first started seeing him more and more recently, I thought maybe he wanted us to become closer friends. I mean, he was always talking about how much he adores spending time with me, and how grateful he is to me for saving him and bringing him back to life. I think the situation with his parents are weighing down on him more than I realize.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rhythmic tapping of rain against the window pane fills the hushed stillness of my bedroom. I lie awake, Jake's sleeping form curled up beside me, his head pillowed on my chest. His eyebrows are furrowed even in slumber, mouth turned down in a soft frown - the worry lines etched across his features never seem to fully fade these days. Gently, I brush some stray locks of hair off his forehead, my thumb tracing over the crease between his brows. Jake's been carrying the entire weight of his family's struggle on those broad shoulders.

A quiet sigh escapes his lips and he burrows deeper into my side, one arm slinging possessively over my waist. We've been a tangle of limbs like this more nights than not recently. After the latest bout of bad news about his dad, Jake sought me out like a man wandering through the desert in desperate need of water. I remember the rawness in his voice as he begged to stay in his room, to be held and comforted, the same way I always have. Whatever Jake needs from me, he'll never be turned away.

Trailing my fingers through Jake's hair, I allow myself to drink in every detail of him in this rare moment of peace. The slight upturn of his perfectly sloped nose. The way his plump lips are parted just enough to allow shallow puffs of breath to ghost across my skin. He really is beautiful in the most masculine, rugged way. Not that I'd ever say that out loud - it would be mortifying if Jake caught me ogling him like some lovesick fool. Then again, I've been a lovesick fool for the better part of a decade when it comes to him.

Lost in the flow of my thoughts, I don't even register the soft snuffling noises at first. It's only when Jake's eyelashes start fluttering that I glance down to find him blinking up at me groggily. Without a word, he shifts until his head is cradled in the crook of my neck, placing a slow, scorching kiss to the exposed skin of the side of my neck.

The world seems to screech to a halt. That...was definitely intentional. Purposefully intimate. There's no way it was an accident or a brief moment of sleep-hazy confusion. Not with the way Jake's pupils are blown wide, his lips parting to reveal the tip of his tongue darting out to wet them instinctively.

Just as quickly as the spark ignited, Jake seems to deflate, burying his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder with a muffled whimper. His hands are fisting in the fabric of my sleep shirt, clutching me with a white-knuckled grip like I'm his lifeline back to the surface. Like if he doesn't hold on, he might drown. "Hey hey hey…" I gently stroke the length of his spine calming him. "You're okay now, everything is alright, relax..." Jake's breathing gradually slows. Gradually, he begins to relax, his fingers slackening their death grip in my shirt.

A few moments pass in silence before he lifts his head and looks directly at me. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, probably from all the crying. They’re red and glassy, a stark contrast to his usually flawless complexion. "Sorry," he murmurs. I shrug slightly. "Don't apologize." After a few sniffles, I feel his breathing become more consistent and his face is dry. He starts to do that cute breathing that I talked about. After I realized that he has met some sort of peace and fell asleep, I fell asleep soon after.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning light filters in through the cracks of my blinds, shining over Jake's sleeping body in a soft glow. My eyes trace the line of his jawbone, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest as he breathes. He looks so tranquil like this.

Jake smells so fucking good. If I could lay on his chest and take it his scent all day, I really would. Not to mention his face is extremely handsome. He has the face that other guys wish they had. It’s very obvious he takes care of himself.

I can't stop replaying that moment from last night over and over in my mind. The heat of Jake's lips pressing against the skin of my neck. Part of me was desperate to surge forward then and seal my mouth over Jake's, to finally give in to the magnetic pull that's been drawing me to him.

But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I'm also terrified of what exploring these feelings could mean for our relationship.

Losing him isn't an option I can fathom. And he seemed to make the same choice in that moment by turning away, burying his face against my neck with a whimper that could have been either anguished or relieved.

We're cowards, the two of us. Content to dance around the fire instead of being set ablaze

Part of me wonders if Jake was hoping for something in return. Maybe a kiss? Maybe he did it to show it trust and comfort for me. He knows what he is doing. The moment his lips touched my neck, my whole body shivered. I wanted more but I contained myself.

My body still hums with the memory of his kiss, nerves tingling with equal parts of dread. I want to reach out and trail my fingertips over the golden skin of his forearm, to breathe him in and see if he tastes how I've imagined on my tongue.

How many more moments like last night can I survive before the truth comes out? I don't have the answers. All I know is that I'm still undeniably his - body, mind and heart.

It has been too many nights where I imagine his lips against mine. The way he chills my spine when whispers in my ear makes me crave hearing his voice. I wonder what he would be like in a relationship with me, he treats me like a princess already, I don’t know how much better it could get.

My mind drifts to memories of him holding me tight when I was upset, his muscular arms engulfing me in a warm embrace. The feeling of safety and contentment that would wash over me in those moments. If I could experience that every night by his side, it might just be pure bliss.

I fantasize about waking up intertwined with Jake, our legs tangled together as we trade kisses and touches unhurried by the outside world. Combing my fingers through his bed hair while he peppers light kisses along my jawline.

Maybe there could be slowmake-out sessions on the couch, all heated caresses and desperate roaming hands before things inevitably progress further. I would lavish every sculpted line of Jake's body with devoted attention. I imagine he would be an attentive, generous lover, just as giving in the bedroom as he is in every other aspect of his life.

I also can’t get over the mental hurdle that maybe it is kind of gross that I see my bestfriend this way. I could easily mistake all of the kind things he does and how he treats me as something more than what he intends it to be, and that would make me uneasy. I have never done anything sexual with him and anything that would imply sexual attraction, yet I am still here wondering what it is like to have sex with him.

~~~~~~~~~~

I really need to get my feelings sorted out soon because they are just going to keep building up until they eventually burst, and I really don’t want Jake to witness that.The week went the same again. and again. and again. Wake up, go to work, do nothing after. But recently, Jake got a promotion at his job, which was grounds for celebration.

The local diner is busy with the lunch crowd, the air thick with aromas of burgers sizzling on the griddle and fresh baked pie. Jake and I slip into our usual corner booth, the cracked vinyl cushions molding to our forms like old friends. This place has been our go to spot since we started university here. We've shared so many moments in this very booth over the years. Happy celebrations or acing a big exam.

Which is why the thick tension clouding the air between us right now feels so alien. Instead of our usual easy camaraderie, I can barely look at Jake without my pulse kicking up. The memory of his firm chest brushing mine, those plush lips just a table length away, has my skin flushing hot. I squeeze my thighs together secretly, desperate for any kind of friction to alleviate the slow burn of arousal low in my belly.

Just being this close to Jake is enough to have that want unfolding all over again. Filling my head with flashes of how it could feel to finally give in - his weight blanketing me, our bodies moving together in a sinuous rhythm as his mouth trails searing kisses along my neck. "Hey." Jake's low rumble jolts me out of the vivid fantasy.

"You're zoning out, sweetheart. Everything okay?" My cheeks flame darker, that suddenly seems too intimate. I duck my head, but not before catching the unmistakable smirk curling at the corners of Jake's lips. That insufferable, cocky smirk he knows drives me crazy. I want to kiss it off his stupidly perfect face. Or maybe bite at the sharp line of his jaw, put that arrogant look to better use while I'm straddling his lap and--

"Fine," I mumble, hooking a loose strand of hair behind my ear to avoid meeting Jake's eyes. The small movement causes our elbows to brush together on the tabletop. His skin is so soft. Jake's brow furrows, like he doesn't miss the way I've gone tense and flustered all over again. Before I can blink, his hand is covering mine. Those long fingers tenderly stroking along my knuckles, smoothing over my suddenly clammy skin.

Slowly, purposefully, Jake tugs my hand closer until my palm is cupping his scruffy jaw. I suck in a sharp, shaky breath at the contact, at being able to feel the rasp of his five o'clock shadow against my sensitive skin. Jake holds me there for a moment, those meltingly warm eyes boring into mine like he's trying to read my mind.

Then, in the most tempting act of torture imaginable, Jake presses his lips to my wrist in the barest brush of mouth against pulse point. I swear I could die right then and there. He slowly pulls away, looking up to meet my eyes once again. Our gaze meets, intense and lustful, filled with a hunger that only he knows how to create. This feels so wrong, so dangerous. The fact he's staring down at my lips, licking his subconsciously causes a slight hitch in my breathing. A tiny part of me wants to lean forward and press my lips to his. But I stop the impulse with the thought of what we did last night, and the consequences of getting caught again.

Instead, I let out a sigh and break eye contact before pulling my hand away and placing my elbow on the table. I rub my thumb across my wrist absentmindedly while avoiding Jake's gaze, the words I want to say stuck somewhere inside my throat like rocks. There isn't anything I can do. What I have with Jake is different now. I'm scared shitless to tell him how I truly feel.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Jake asks, worry laced into his tone. He places a hand on my thigh, making me jump slightly. “It’s nothing, really” I lied. The server comes over to the table to take our order. “What could I get started for you to drink” he says.

Our meal goes by normally, Jake pretending that he had done nothing earlier. Afterward, we head home, the silence thickening the further into town we get. There’s nothing for me to say, no reason to prolong this conversation I’m dreading anymore. He must sense my sudden change of mood. He drops his arm from around my shoulders and lets his hand fall limply back onto his knee.

We walk silently in the direction of our house. Neither of us speaking. It’s almost as if we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. I have an overwhelming urge to turn to him and kiss him.

~~~~~~~~~~

I can’t stop thinking about Jake. He is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. Over the past few weeks, I feel like he has become a lot more touchy, which don’t really mind. He smiles for a little longer when we eat together. We have slept in each others room a lot more often than before. I may just be over analyzing it.

Jake is going out with Jay again. As usual, I don’t plan on him coming home tonight, and I will wake up to a hungover Jake. Jay isn’t really the friend to take care of you when you feel ill, so that responsibility is left on me.

I hate to admit, but when Jake isn’t home for a night, I fight the urge to sleep in his bed. I have been sleeping in his bed with him so often that it leaves me in withdrawal when we aren’t in the same bed.

Just being in his room, his scent diffused in the air, it makes me miss him so much more. Even without thinking about the fact that it is his room, the bed is so much more comfortable than mine, which is all the better reason to sleep there.

I walk in, already in my shorts and t-shirt, and wonder around. He has the picture of us that his mom took when we were first leaving for Korea framed on his nightstand.

I pick it up and examine it closely. It is the one photo where we didn’t appear stiff. I remember the day clearly; I was standing with him, grinning broadly. I never expected to smile so much when I was young, but my memories of our trip leave a bright happy feeling inside my stomach.

I set the photo back down and I lift the blanket from the corner of the bed. I slide into the bed, laying on his side like I usually do when he isn’t here. I instantly melt into the sheets. I scroll on my phone whilst fighting my eyelids to stay awake, but eventually I fall asleep prematurely.

Jake usually keeps his room pretty cool, which calls for cuddling closely under the blankets. In the middle of my sleep, I am shot awake when my cold limbs are instantly warmed by an unexpected sensation. Why was Jake home?

Jake continues to get comfortable under the blanket, not even batting an eye at the fact that I was just sleeping in his bed. I pull him closer by his waist to fulfill the rest of the warmth that my body craves.

“Why are you shivering sweetheart, you could have turned on the heater.” he worries.

“I wanted the temperature to be tolerable when you got back in the morning” such a stupid explanation. “Speaking of, why are you here right now? what happened to Jay’s?” I questioned, completely forgetting how we got into this situation in the first place.

“Jay was feeling ill so we called it a night pretty early, I only got three shots down.”

Jake runs a lazy finger over my hip bone and leans in to nuzzle the crook of my neck. Shit. He’ll notice the way I react to his touches and I won’t be able to explain myself. Fuck.

“I thought I would come to my room and catch up on sleep but look what we have here instead” he says with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Oh- oh I’m sorry.” I slowly pull away from him to make way back to my room. “No babe, please don’t go, I want you to stay” he begs while keeping our fingers latched to keep our extended arms together. He then latched his hand around my wrist to slowly pull me back down to his level on the bed. It’s all happening too fast. He uses the same hand to comb his fingers through the strands at the bottom of my hair on the back of my head, and keeps his hand there entangled. He uses his hand to guide my head into a sensual kiss. He gently pressed his lips against mine. So plump, so dreamy. I reciprocated the kiss instantly, matching his pace and moving our lips in sync so perfectly. The way our lips intertwined so naturally gave me actual chills.

After giving me what I have dreamt about for years, he pulls away, leaving a string of saliva to connect our lips. He looks into my eyes, his pupils as voids. “Please stay” he whispers again. I nod dumbly, my brain still short circuiting as Jake bites is bottom lip. He’s so fucking beautiful, my eyes are practically burning holes into his lips.

His fingers gently run over my cheekbone, lingering on my jawline, tracing along my nose. “How did I ever deserve someone as beautiful as you?” he murmurs. His voice is full of admiration and love and affection. He trails his fingers along my jaw, pausing to lightly graze my collar bone, making goosebumps erupt across my skin. The heat radiating off Jake’s body is practically burning me alive.

Without thinking about it for a second longer, I close the gap between our lips again. We moved in sync, in harmony. It feels like my lips were only made to kiss his. He rests his free hand on the side of my face and uses it as grip to deepen the kiss. Kissing him I had a sense of saftey. The longer our lips were together, the more open I was to his attempts at adding tongue into the mixture. It was a sloppy wet mess, but is all I have ever wanted.

I slide my hand between out warm bodies and feel across his obvious bulge in his boxers. He instantly let out a groan when I took his imprint into my palm. I stroked it gently as we continued with intertwined tongues. His grunts and breathlessness was insanely arousing.

It was clear that we were both extremely sleepy. After a few more minutes of kissing, we eventually pulled away, with no words spoken.

I try my best to hold in my moans as the warmness travels up my body like lava. He stops tracing my collarbone to trail his hands up the side of my body, stopping to stroke a line of soft kisses along the side of my neck.

My hands grasp tightly at the material covering Jake’s shoulder blades and I use that leverage to get back under the blankets with him. We both face eachother, with our legs crossing randomly over one another. He once again rests his head in the crook of my neck, leaving a kiss like he did once before. Only this time, I know his true intention.

~~~~~~~~~

The fall semester is starting back up again. Junior year, both is our schedules are jammed packed with upper division classes. Having to balance so many classes and still having to work to keep up with the bills for the house, Jake and I hardly see each other. Even though I love spending every single day with him, I feel like I’m living with a ghost whenever I see his empty seat. When I wake up every morning to find him gone, my heart starts to ache. It hurts knowing that we might not spend as much time together. I know that the sooner that this semester ends, the easier everything will be.

The end of the semester wasn’t going to be soon though, it’s barely September. I’ve decided to try and set a study date with Jake and make sure nothing was overlapping the times. We eventually agreed apon Thursday night after he got off of his afternoon job. Maybe around 8 o’clock. I was getting a head start on my Statistics work before he showed up because I knew it would take me a while. He eventually showed up close to 8:30.

I had my headphone covering my ears, shoulders slumped over my desk, and he comes up behind me and take my shoulders in his hands and sensually massages. “Ah thank youuuu~~~ my muscles are tight” I jumped at the unexpected pressure. He drives his thumbs a little bit deeper into my blades and slides his straight arms down my stomach for a hug. “I missed you” he griped with puppy dog eyes, resting his head on my shoulder. I take off my headphone and hold both of his forearms and pull him deeper into this awkwardly positioned hug.

After a few seconds he pulls away and grabs out his bag with his laptop, and runs to his room to grab his chair to pull up next to mine. I was still seated, watching, unable to take my eyes off him. He settles himself and puts the laptop on his knees in front of him. He opens his notebook, and turns the page to the worksheet for this month. My fingers naturally find their way to his back and scratch gently while he looks over his work. They made their way up his clothed back and into his hair and I ran them through this tangled hair. He let out a sigh of fufillment and he allows himself self to close his eyes to fully take in the relaxing feeling. He breaths in deeply and slowly, taking in my coconut scent.

“Fuck it” he says under his breath.

He turns in my directed and crashed his lips into mine with no hesitation. He wraps his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. I was startled at the quick change in plans but my lips soon melted into his and I was under his control. My tongue dances along his bottom lip, asking for entrance as he obliges and gives access. He lifts me from my chair and pulls me over to straddle his thighs.

He guides his lips to mine again, running his hands down my back as he pushes me lower into his lap. I wrap my legs slightly around his waist for some sense of support. The sensual make out and lap straddling goes on and on, until he breaks away slightly to speak, “You can move if you want sweetheart”.

He reconnects our lips and I find myself needing any sort of friction to ease the pressure building between my legs. Subconsciously grinding my core over his thigh slowly. I bite down on his lower lip causing him to suck on my tongue immediately as a response. God, he tastes so good, like the cocoa butter lip balm I got him for his birthday.

I continue grinding over his thighs picking up the aggressiveness, as he continues to run his hands through my hair. “Feeling desperate, darling?” he teases, smirking as he tries to pull me back into a kiss. “Shut up” I harden my fist and hit the front of his shoulder. He always finds a way to tease me. He chuckles as we connect our lips once again.

He slides both of his hands under my thighs stands up from his chair, and I wrap my legs around his body as he carries me to the bed. He slowly lays me down on my back with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t break the kiss but as soon as he sets me down, I can feel his erection bulging through his pants rubbing against me sweet spot. We stop kissing momentarily as he looks at me, with lust filled eyes. He lets one of his hands rest on my chest, while the other traces along the side of my neck to my chin, tilting my head upward and pressing his forehead against mine. “Look at how gorgeous you are right now,” he says with pure adoration. “I can’t help myself when I’m with you.” A sudden surge of desire hits me and my hands grip his hips tighter as he starts to trail kisses on my jawline. I can feel an undeniable wetness spreading in my panties. I am becoming desperate.

I placed my hands at the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it up, but he finished the job and lifted it over his head and threw it to the side. I have seen Jake shirtless a million times over but this time is different. It feels more intimate than the last ones I have seen. I felt my throat tighten as my eyes were drawn to his chest which looked absolutely flawless. “So beautiful” I whisper and I trace my fingers over his abs and chest. His body looks perfectly carved and sculpted by a god. “It’s all for you, baby” he cooed.

I reach my arms around his back and gently dig my nails into his skin as he continues to kiss me. He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, revealing my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra since I had been home all afternoon, and I definitely wasn’t expecting this. As soon as he sees them, he takes one of them in his hand. He holds my right breast in his palm and gently rubs it between his thumb and index finger.

His gaze remains focused on my chest as his mouth begins to travel down, taking his time to enjoy each and every piece of my body. He stops to give me another kiss before placing his lips on my nipple. He sucks on my nipple whilst his teeth nipped at my flesh, causing me to moan lowly. I grabbed his hair pulling him closer to me. I grind my pelvis onto his dick, eliciting a groan and he removes his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound, to look at his next target intensely. He took my other breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple and softly sucking, making me arch my back and having a moan escape my lips. Jake trails his hands down my waist while keeping his mouth latched to me.

His fingers went into the top of my sweatpants and I stopped him. “I have never done this before” I admitted. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions. How could I ever want him to stop? He is the only person I have ever imagined losing my virginity to. That aside I simply answer “No, Jakey, I trust you”

He continues to pull me pants down and off my legs and throws it to the side like he did with the other articles of clothing. He licks up my neck and comes to my ear. “I have never done this either, we can learn together” he whispered. Hearing this made my noticibly more wet, the way he whispers into my ear raises every single hair on my body. The thought of us having our first times with each other made this whole so much more meaningful and made me a lot less hesitant.

The only thing I have left on are my black panties and Jake looks like he is a man with a mission. I grab his bulge through his jeans and gently massage. He becomes a groaning mess as I palm his desperate tip. He is barely even able to keep his lips a decent distance apart for me to kiss him. “Fuuuck your hand feels so good” I take my other hand to start unbuckling his jeans, which he seems to have no problem with.

I pulled the belt off and unbuttoned his jeans and pulls them down, to where he took them all the way off. All he has left is his boxers. I can clearly see the imprint of he large cock through the thin fabric. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Does it look too big?, we can stop now if we need to” he questioned, seeing the fear on my face. I gulped and said “No, I can take it.”

I continued stroking through his boxers and he moved my panties to the side and rubbed gently on my folds. I gasped at the feeling. The better it started to feel, the less and less I was able to focus on Jake and more on myself. He had me wrapped around his finger. No amount of masturbating could compare to the way he is making me feel within these few minutes.

He slid his fingers down my clit and inserted one. He pumped it in and out until I felt that I was ready for more. Then 2. It hurt a little more but I slowly got used to it. He leaned his head down while his fingers still stuffed me and started leaving kisses on my clit. For having so little experience, he worked his finger and tongue like a professional. The way his tongue danced across my sensitive bud made my body shutter, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“I love the sounds of your whimpers” he moaned against my clit teasing me. I couldn’t even respond. My breathing quickened, and the more his fingers fucked me, the more I could tell how wet I was getting. I whimpered again and I gripped his hair signaling how good he was making me feel. “It tastes just as sweet as I imagined” he praised. He has imagined this before? What else has he imagined?

His fingers slowed down and he slipped two inside of me simultaneously. My hips bucked up and I let out a small gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He continued working his fingers inside of me. He was eating like a man who hadn’t seen a meal in a week.

“I want to taste you now.” I protest, pulling his face up for a kiss. His eyes look like he is drunk as his tongue swirled with mine and he gave me a slow deep kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, then bit me, and finally opened his mouth and licked my tongue with his. He pulls away and allows me to pull his boxers past his hips and onto the ground. His dick sprung out. God, it was a lot thicker than I imagined.

I take the base of it and put my lips against the tip, swirling my tongue around. His muscular hand combs through the top of my hair and gently grips it as I begin to take more of his length in my mouth. I could feel it sliding smoothly in and out of my throat. His grip on my hair tightens and he guides me to take more in moderation. “God yes baby, that’s it” he encouraged. I looked up at him, the room filled with breathy moans and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I felt the waves of his voice vibrating through my lips as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across my entire body. I could feel my juices flowing through my pussy and down my belly.

I continue sucking him until he is almost completely buried inside my mouth. He leans down placing his lips beside my ear. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer” he whispers, making me smile.

He slowly pulls himself out of my mouth and lifts me back onto the bed. I use my arms to cover my chest, I am a little nervous. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t hide yourself, you look perfect darling” he said proceeding to take my tongue in his mouth. God this man loves using his tongue. I have never felt this type of intimacy before, and to think I am covering that ground with my bestfriend, was not how I thought it was going to go to say the least.

He brushes his tip in between my folds, spreading my wetness around. “Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop here, just say the words and I will stop” “Please keep going” I am practically begging. He seems to enjoy my obvious desperation. He guide the tip in slowly, trying not to overwhelm me. He goes in a little deeper. I wince in pain. “Ah baby go a little slower” I pleaded. I didn’t want him to stop but it was definitely starting to hurt. He held the same spot for a few more seconds, then slowly pushed more in. I have gotten used to the stinging, as it slowly turns to pleasure.

“Shit princess, you’re so fucking tight” Jake praises. He was getting lost in his own world since he has never felt a warm pussy wrapped aroung his dick before, especially not one like mine. I felt his tip hit the enterance of my cervix. He bottomed out. He didn’t move. He didn’t even want to move, he was just enjoying the moment of his cock being buried deep inside his bestfriend. “You ok babe?” he asked, concerned by the lack of movement from me. “Yeah, just give me a second” I replied, attempting to get myself under control.

I began to relax, letting the warmth envelop my entire body. I signal that his is able to move. He slowly pulls his cock out of my cunt, and immediately pushes it back in. He rests both of his arms next to my face and comes down to kiss me. I can see the faint beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You do not know how long I have been wanting to do this” He whispered into my ear. Once again, Jakes words send a tingle down my spine. He instantly latched himself onto my neck, sucking harshly while still keeping a slow pace down below. I grip his brown head of hair as he leaves purple marks on my skin, bruising my neck. He pulls out and goes back in, this time at a consistent rate.

Our torsos are in complete contact and he sets both of his hands under my back. I wrap my legs around his waist to allow him deeper access, which he so desperately needed. His lips were locked with mine. Our tongues were dancing along with each other as well as our chests. Every time he would suck on my lower lip, I moan against his lips.

“This is what I have been dreaming about” He says breaking away and kissing my nose. He finds me comfortable with his picking up the pace, and he did with no hesitation. He nuzzles into my neck with his hair partially resting on my face. There was no pain left to feel and my whole body was washed over with pleasure. His length fit so perfectly into my warm cunt, like we were make to only fuck eachother.

Jake head still right next to mine, I turn my head and whisper “Jakey, it feels so gooood~~~~” with inconsistency in my breathing. Jake’s ears were pleasured as if he were listening to his favorite song. He slowed down the pace, only to drive his dick deeper into my swollen cunt with each thrust. “Oh my god it’s feels so fucking good, you taking my cock like this.” he whines in my ear. He pulls away from my neck and just watching himself fuck into my pussy.

There was so much sweat on his face it was so fucking hot. It was dripping off his chin and onto my shoulder and neck. His hair was starting to get wet. He took both of my legs over his shoulders, making sure to maintain eye contact. Each stroke was deeper and deeper. Faster and faster. He was getting desperate. I don’t know how much more my inexperienced pussy can handle. He takes his thumb and gently rubs my clit. Ugh, I have never felt this sort of sensation before, being fucked at the same time.

My moans became more uncontrollable and my legs started to close in. “Fuckkkkk Jakey I am about to cum” I am on the verge of tears, overstimulated with pleasure. The pressure on my clit mixed with the repeated abuse of my cervix was enough to drive me over the edge. “Mmmmm yes doll, cum on my cock” he says lowly. My walls tighten around him and my hips are shaking. My heart is beating at 1000bpm, not a coherent thought left in my fucked-dumb mind. He practically has to pry my legs apart to maintain access to my slit. He holds my hips in place as he gives me a few more strokes. His became less and less powerful.

Once he felt his orgasm coming, he quickly pulled out of me, letting out a loud groan, and shot his strings of white cum all over my tummy and chest. The room was filled with loud pants and the scent of sex. “You are all I have ever wanted” I reach up to tuck his hair behind his ear, not minding the fact that his face was soaked. We rest our foreheads together and rub our noses across each other as we both try to catch our breath.

After a second of recovery, He runs to the bathroom and grabs a rag to clean me up. I could barely move my body, my entire entity was more than sore. It hurt to move, all I could do is lay there. Jake returns with a cold washcloth, and starts wiping off my stomach. “Do you need help getting cleaned up babe?” he asks, sitting down beside me, his arm around my naked torso. “Could we take a bath together?” I suggested.

A bath together after the fact is far more intimate, and could give us some time to talk things over. “Of course” and smiles. “I can go get it set up right now, darling, you just rest for a few minutes” He gives me a kiss on the nose and forehead before heading to run the faucet.

~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know how I could let this happen. I lay on my bed rerunning all of the events writhing the last hour in my head. I really don’t know why we both allowed it to go that far. I admit, I loved every second of it, but now that it’s over, we have to deal with the effects.

Jake comes back from running the faucet. He looks tired. Maybe a bath is something we both need. “Come here sweetheart” he brings a towel and sets it on the counter.

The bathroom mirror was completely fogged over. “Are you trying to make soup out of us?” I said jokingly. “I know you like taking your showers hot, so I thought maybe it would be the same for baths” he chuckled.

I dip my toes into the half full tub. Jake was right, the temperature was just how I liked it. I held onto his shoulder as I submerge my other foot. The water lapped over the rim of the bath tub.

I keep hold onto his hand so he can guide himself into the tub, taking a lot more balance and tolerance for him to try to get used to the boiling water. “God damn, you like it hot hot” he teases though I can see him furrowing his eyebrows at the heat.

“Oh don’t be such a baby” I tease him right back. He pouts playfully. I love seeing that kind of reaction from him. “I don’t mind” he mumbles in embarrassment, trying to hide the smile on his face.

Once his feet were able to get used to the water, we both slowly sat the rest of our bodies into the tub. Jakes hair is a mess, it’s going in all different directions. I reach out to tuck some of it behind his ears for him, and then cup his face in my palm. I stroke his cheek with my thumb. He tilts his head, there he goes with those irresistible puppy dog eyes again.

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks. I remain in eye contact with him. “Were you being serious? When you said you have dreamt about… that…?”

He’s silent. So much blood rushing to his face his cheeks are like strawberries. He scratched the back of his head. “I mean yeah… why wouldn’t I” he hesitated.

“I mean look at you, you are insanely attractive and we live together and have known each other forever. Of course my mind is going to wonder. It has wondered many more times than I would like to admit.” he explained himself.

Unintentionally, our bodies kept inching towards each other in that bath. I am some how a mere 6 inches away from his face. “Why haven’t you ever told me how you felt?”

“Because I was scared on how it would change our friendship”…. he had the exact same fear as I did. He was also afraid of losing one of his best friends. “If I tell you how I feel, you might think it’s weird or something” he whispers into my ear. “No I will understand, we have known each other our whole lives. How would it be weird?” I say softly.

He hesitates once again, and I can hear his heart start to pound. He closes the gap between us and rests his forehead on mine. “There is so much you don’t know” He breathes, still looking deep into my eyes. His words caused a flicker of anxiety inside of me. “There is so much I want to know about you, darling” I reassure.

“Well for starters I never thought this thing between us would become anything more than just friends” he confesses. It is hard for him to admit such things, but he has to show me that I matter more than he thinks. “It scares me, and I’m sorry that I let it go too far. I guess it’s because I’ve been waiting so long, and everything has changed so fast” he explained, he still had this worried look on his face like I were going to shut everything down. Everything had changed so fast.

“You have to stop worrying so much about me. You can trust me, okay? I’ll never judge or hate you or think any differently of you. All I want is for us to enjoy our first time together and enjoy each other. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you are to me”. I caress his face with my hands.

A small smile graces his features while he gazes back into my eyes. I lean forward and capture him in a long passionate kiss. Our lips moving in sync, tasting each others taste as if it was our first time doing it. We pull away and stare at each other. He places both of his palms on either side of my face, leaning in even closer. I place my lips in line with his.

My fingers run through his soaked hair, though I don’t know if it use from sweat or from water. “Jakey, if I am going to be honest, I have been feeling the same way. On nights where we don’t sleep in the same bed, I find myself getting less sleep and craving your warmth. I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us tonight. Admittedly, I have been wanting to do that with you for so long” I started ranting.

“When you were making love to me I felt like I was floating away and it felt so good I just wanted to stay here forever, like nothing else mattered. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to stay in this moment forever with you, but we both know that isn’t possible.” he continues, his voice cracking.

“Making love?” I chuckle. Such an interesting word choice. “Be quiet” he pushes back. “I’m just joking, but I agree”

He was clearly getting tired, letting out a yawn and fighting the force of his eyelids trying to close. “We should get to bed” I suggest. We soak the last few moments of the now comfortably hot water and get out of the tub. “You better not get water all over the floor, Jake” HE ALWAYS DOES THAT.

He grabs a towel for me and and one for himself and he wraps mine around my whole body width and pulls me for a hug. “I am glad we took a bath together sweetheart, try to get some rest” he whispers, and leaves an innocent kiss on my forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks consisted of school, work, and sleeping in the same bed with Jake pretty much every single night. We would exchange passionate kisses and I would bathe him when he was too tired from work or hanging out with Jay. And he would do the same for me. We never went as far to have sex again. We weren’t scared but we felt like we should wait.

We are on our way back to Australia for fall break. Jake will finally get to see his parents and I will get to see mine. We get to have a whole week without having to worry about responsibilities. Which I know both of us desperately need. We touch down in Australia around maybe 3pm on the first Saturday of the break. We only brought carry on luggage for convenience and time.

“Have everything?” He questioned me as we were getting out of our seats. “I think so” I smile, so excited to see my parents. We arranged for Jake’s mom to pick us up from the airport. She had a large SUV able to fit all of our stuff comfortably. Once we passed through all of the security and customs, Jake calls her to see where she is parked. On speaker I hear her say “9 rows down from the south enterance” she explains. “Thanks mom, see you in a sec” Jake says about to hang up the phone. “Thank you Mrs Sim” I make sure she hears before he presses the red button.

We hurry to get out of the packed airport so meet up with his mom. The weather was cold and misty and it was hard to see. When we finally arrived outside the south enterance, we could hardly believe what we saw. Layla comes up running at full sprint in me and Jake’s direction. She jumped up onto bother of us, layering our faces and arms with slobbery licks and he tail wagging so hard it may as well had fallen off.

Once Layla was all calmed down we put our luggage into the trunk. We swing up the door and the vehicle seems oddly empty. “Where is dad?” Jake questioned his mom. “He is getting worse…. he wasn’t able to make it today, I had to take him back to the hospital last night” she explained. I could already see the heart break in his eyes. “Oh” We packed everything up and his mom offered for me to sit in the front seat. Honestly, I wanted to sit in the back seat and comfort Jake, so I made up the excuse that Layla should sit in the front.

The mood in the car ride home was off. I don’t know if it was from the weather or his fathers health but Jake was not as energetic as he was before. I know he doesn’t deserve everything happening to his dad so I will just try to support him through it.

~~~~~~~~~~

I never really gave it much thought, but the more I put the pieces together, I think maybe the reason Jake is so insistent on getting black out drunk with Jay on the weekends may have to do with his father.

Jake has never in his life had a healthy coping mechanism. I remember a lot through out grade school, he would feel guilty or take blame for things that were not his fault, just to mediate the situation. When he did this, he did not react to the discipline very well, but it seems like he would much rather face conveniences than to start an argument over the original problem.

Jake let a lot of people take advantage of him, and it is still something that we have to work on, but knowing the situation with his dad, I know he has a lot more things to worry about now that usual.

Many of the people excluding his parents are alcoholics, any family event we went to together, the main thing being passed around was a bottle. When we were younger, things made him build resentment towards them but the older we got, the more willing he was to try alcohol, only adding more and more each time until he is where he is at now.

Jay isn’t the type of friend to stop this behavior either. I will never understand why Jake is such good friends with him cause he never seems to have the best intentions or good interest in mind. I can’t be the one to tell him that they should stop being friends cause at the end of the day, Jake’s relationship with alcohol won’t be healed in a split second.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing really eventful happened over the span of the after noon, the rain put everything to a halt. I slept in the guest bed in Jake’s house for the first night but was unable to fall asleep for the majority of the night. Jake’s mom rushed into the room around 1:30 am.

“Hey are you awake? We have to go the hospital, it’s my husband. Please wake up Jake while I grab the keys” She said with an extremely shaken voice full of urgency. I shoot out of the bed and put my shorts back on and practically run down the hallway to Jake’s room. It is locked. I bang on the door frantically. “Jake! Jake get up now we have to go” I echo through the door. Quickly after he swings open his door with his shirt in his hand, in the middle of putting it on.

The SUV was already started when we got out the front door and we ran to get into the car and soon as we sat down she reversed and tried to explain. “He slipped into a coma. They said they are trying everything to get him to wake up but they have no idea why it happened because he was in decent shape before” she says with tears forming in her eyes.

I reach up to the front seat to scratch her shoulder to try and calm her. I don’t think there is anything someone can do in this situation to calm someone in this much distress down but I tried. She is going dangerously fast down the highway. I know that she has been working hard to keep them afloat and thing we’re starting to get better. After that I couldn’t stand to listen anymore and closed my eyes hoping that by some miracle she wouldn’t end up killing us.

After what seemed like hours we reached the hospital and were quickly taken to another private room where we could talk with him alone. Of course his dad wasn’t going to be able to say anything. But Jake still wanted him to listen. He took his fathers hand a caressed his palm with his fingers while he said what he needed to say. Once he was done, I gave Jake a hug as his red face were completely covered in tears.

“He will be okay, I promise” I reassured him. We walked out of the room to discover his mom sitting next to the window, face completely void of emotion. He hasn’t spoken a word since we have gotten here.

“You know…. he was really excited for you both to come back. He was practically counting down the days” she admitted, wiping a tear from here eye. “I was so excited with him” she added. Her words shatter my heart. How is she not screaming in anger right now. Angry at the world for doing this to her innocent husband. That was something I admired about her. She was always able to contain her emotions well, almost too well.

Seeing both her and Jake in this state was absolutely terrible. I knew it would only take a miracle to fix this given his dads condition. “It’ll all be okay, Jake, don’t cry” I assure him. “It won’t, how am I supposed to deal with this? How am I supposed to go back to school without seeing him, talking to him… it hurts” “There is still a chance that he will make it Jake, don’t give up on it. I know he wants you to wait for him”

He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was bury his face into my shoulder and sob. He tried to form words, but they were only choked noises which caused him to cry even harder. “Shh its okay, I am here” I assure him. Me, Jake and his mom spent the night in the hospital. His mom slept in the room with his dad and me and Jake slept in a guest waiting room. Well, I was the only one who was able to get some sleep. Jake was up all night worrying about his father. I could hear him crying as I were trying to fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed and his fathers condition remained the same, and to be honest, Jake and his mom seemed like they kind of accepted that this was the way that things were going to be.

We were back at the house, his mom would just go to work and lock herself in her room until she had to go to work again and Jake and I were preparing to go back to Korea for the Winter semester.

Mrs Sim did not want to see us leave, and she made it very clear. We were her last hope with everything going on with her husband. I really wish me and Jake could stay back to support her but we have jobs and bills that we have to get back to, and life can’t just pause for us. We promised we would let her know how we are feeling, how much we missed each other and everything else that went along with saying goodbye.

We leave in 3 days, and we made it our mission to hang out with his mom as much as we could before we left. She hasn’t taken a break either… no time to her self she just has to keep working to pay for the house and the piling medical bills.

Those last few days, we took Mrs. Sim out for lunch at her favorite Thai restaurant. She seemed to genuinely smile for the first time in weeks as we joked and reminisced about times when all 4 of us were together. One night, we rented some classic movies she loved and made her favorite snacks. We cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the familiar feeling of just being together as a family again, if only briefly.

Jake and I helped around the house as much as we could - running errands, doing yard work, and cooking meals to give his mom a little respite. We made sure to soak in every moment because we didn't know when we'd all be together like that again.

~~~~~~~~~~

When it came time for our early morning departure back to Korea, Mrs. Sim took us both in for a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears. "Take care of each other," she whispered hoarsely. Jake grabs our suitcases out of the trunk and his mom pulls me to the side.

“Please promise to take care of him for me. You have always been a safe place for him, I can only imagine how he has been feeling” she begged. I held bother of her hands in the palms of mine. “I promise, Mrs Sim, I will do everything in my power to take care of him, don’t worry. You have other things to worry about” I reassure her pulling her into a hug.

Layla climbs through the back of the car from the front seat and jumps out of the trunk to say good bye, jumping all over me and Jake just like when we first arrived. “Yes you’re such a good girl” he scruffs up her ears while giving her a kiss on the forehead. I gave Layla some belly rubs before his mom guided her back into the car.

“Please text me when you board, and call me when you land, I need to know that the two of you are safe.” said his mom. “Of course” we pulled her into one last hug. “I love you guys” she sobbed “I love you too” we said in unison as we walked towards to enterance, leaving his mom in the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back home was hard for Jake. 10 hours of restlessness. The only time I saw Jake act kind of okay was at our layover in Manila. I tried to leave him be for most of the trip.

We landed at the airport in Seoul and made our way back through customs and immigration, I swear the process of getting out of the airport is more stressful than planing a trip itself. We load our things into my car, missing the excitement that Layla brought to the car ride.

Before we got into the car, Jake comes behind me and turns me around into a hug. “I am really worried about her… my parents have been together for so long I can’t imagine how she would react with out him” he cried into my arms. “Your mom is a strong woman, I know it. She has you and I know she will be able to get through it.” I rub his back and lay my head into the crook of his neck.

I walk him over to his door and open it, letting him get into is and rest, we still had a 45 minute drive back to our place. I just let him ‘rest’ his eyes the whole way and I sat in silence trying not to wake him. The ride was bumpy, or maybe I was more aware of my surroundings not given that Jake wasn’t talking my ear off the whole time. I don’t mean it as a bad thing but he does a great job at keeping me company in the car. But that element was absent this time.

We were outside of our house quicker than expected. Jake was still fast asleep, he looked up he most peaceful than I have seen him these past few weeks I really did not want to wake him up. “Jakey we’re here” I whisper and gently grip his shoulder. He groans. He untucks his arms from under his shirt and rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

We make way up to the door, he didn’t bother grabbing anything out of the car but I was completely okay with grabbing everything if it meant he would get some rest. As soon as we stepped in the door, he took off his shoes and hurried to his bedroom, he didn’t ever bother changing his clothes before plopping onto his bed in pure exhaustion.

I found myself following him to the bed and sitting on the edge and grazing his back with my fingernails. My hands made way up to his hair and I combed his strands with my fingers. He turns over to lay on his back and I sit and admire his beautiful face while his eyes are closed. So peaceful. I couldn’t fight the urge to lean down and give his a soft peck before heading back to the car.

He didn’t seem to mind, his lips were soft as they instantly melted into mine for a few seconds. He didn’t seem supprised or shocked at all. He made it feel natural. “Thank you” he said, barely audible. I leaned in for another kiss, a smile building on my face as our lips met. No verbal response was needed, my smile against his spoke for itself.

~~~~~~~~~~

We had gotten back into our normal work and school schedule following the break. I still was not seeing Jake as much as I would like and it seems like I was getting less and less information by the day on his dad, which worried me. I tried to call Mrs Sim every single day to check in and get updates, as well as update her on mine and Jake’s life. She treated me like a friend. Like a daughter. I am very thankful to be accepted by her in that way.

Jake was clearly getting more stressed with work and school and I couldn’t figure out a way to ease the stress for him, all I could do was hope that it wouldn’t end up being too much.

Mrs Sim told me briefly once while we were on a phone call that me and her call way more often that her and Jake do. Jake has always been a texter and his Mom simply had to deal with not hearing her baby boys voice as often as she would like, which is why it was weird when me and Jake were laying in my bed around 11pm and his phone starts ringing.

Both of us were on the verge of falling asleep and the light from his phone screen made the situation more uncomfortable. At first Jake just reached over and turned off the ringer.

“Hey did you even see who it was? What if it was important” I question his instinct to end the call. “Fine let me look” he groans.

He reached over and grabs his phone and looks at the screen ‘Mom’ is what it read. “Answer it!” I urged him. Jake was hesitant. I think he thought that this was going to be the call, which he has been preparing to avoid at all costs.

Instead of letting the line go to voicemail, I snatch the phone out of his hand and answer if myself. “Hello Mrs Sim, is everything alright?”

“I am so glad to hear your voice. Is Jake around? It is important. Put it on speaker” she said.

“You’re on speaker” I informed her.

“Jake, your father is home, I picked him up about an hour ago. The doctor said that septic shock caused him to go into the coma, and they were able to treat the infection and keep him steady with some blood and IV fluids. He woke up yesterday and has shown no signs of complication ever since. I will take him back in a few days for testing and a check up. They saved him Jake… They saved him.” His mother explained ecstatically, crying tears of happiness.

Jake’s face immediately lit up, with what I could see from the light of the phone screen. He instantly started crying.

“Baby I wish you were here right now. he misses you so much” he claimed.

Jake couldn’t even speak through his tears and his hitched breathing. “I love you so much mom, tell dad I love him and I will see him soon”

He sets the phone down and buries his face into my chest, letting out full on sobs. the toll that this situation has taken on his body physically and mentally was very obvious and I know he has been wanting good news.

~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks had passed and we came back to Australia for the Winter break. Jake was more excited than ever. When he saw his dad get out of the car at the airport, I had never see Jake run so fast in my life. Their hug seemed like it was out of a movie and he had been latched to his dad everyday since being back at his house.

His parents kind of picked up on me and Jake’s relationship, and didn’t question why I was wanting to sleep in Jake’s room and not the guest room any more.

We were laying there facing each other, admiring each others beauty in the dim moon light shining through the blinds.

“Tell me Jake, do you believe in fate?” I questioned lowly.

He looks somewhat startled. “Y’know, I have never really thought about that. After everything that has happened this year, I think I would say that I do” he confirmed, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah I think I do too”

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