#which is why some of the right ones are 'corrected' by the other

[zigraves]

I was wondering why, as someone who lives in the UK with a social circle that ain't all that cis, I hadn't heard of a new law that prevented birth certificate changes.

It's because there is not one.

What there *is*, is enforcement of laws that have been around for decades preventing alteration of birth certificates in general - an amendment may be noted in the margin, but the certificate may not redone in its entirety. This goes for any field where an entry may be incorrect and require amendment: gender, date, name, etc etc.

While the law has transphobic applications, I want to delineate the difference between - "new transphobic laws made especially to do transphobia and for no other purpose than adding new types of transphobia" (which one might believe from OP's phrasing) and the reality of: - "an existing law can be used for transphobic purposes amongst other purposes, such as making it really annoying to correct the wrong spelling of Mohammad or Sarah".

Those are two different things, and it does fuck all good for any of us to act like there are more NEW anti-trans laws on the books than there actually are. It's important to be able to recognise when it is a choice to enforce existing law - and what that means for all of us who exist in places where laws are inconsistently enforced - versus a choice to create new, more specific laws. For one thing, it's easier to prevent a new law from coming into force than it is to revoke an old law, and amending or revoking an existing law is a different process.

For another, trans people in the UK are a group who CAN actually change their birth certificates. In the UK, you can obtain a Gender Recognition Certificate which allows a re-issued birth certificate with the details amended. It's not quick or easy (you need proof you've been living as yourself for at least two years, plus various paperwork including medical reports), but trans people specifically CAN change their birth certificates. I am, again, not saying it is easy! For people without helpful medical providers it is still nearly impossible! But OP's phrasing includes some vaguely phrased scaremongering and right now it is very important that trans people in the UK know where they actually stand, legally speaking.

A newborn baby girl will have to go through life with the wrong sex on her birth certificate after a registrar’s error, which her parents have been told they cannot change. Grace Bingham and her partner, Ewan Murray, were excited to register their first child at the Sutton-in-Ashfield Registration Office in Nottinghamshire last week. But, after nights of broken sleep, they failed to notice the registrar had written the wrong sex on the birth certificate until after it had been submitted. “We were horrified but assumed that, as we saw the mistake just a few seconds after it had happened, correcting it would be an easy matter,” said Murray. “But although the registrar apologised for her mistake – and the area manager also apologised – it turns out that birth certificates can’t be changed.”

this article is interesting because it demonstrates that cis people can very easily apply structural thinking to sex assignment - this couple immediately identifies that their daughter, having mistakenly been assigned male at birth by the registrar, will have administrative problems in employment, education, travel, and so on. they pretty adeptly identify the foundational role that sex assignment plays in the administrative and civil functions of a state, and how incorrect sex markers effectively produce a ‘rational’ reason for discrimination within these administrative and civil arenas:

The General Register Office (GRO), which is responsible for administering all civil registration in England and Wales, and the Home Office have both confirmed that Lilah’s birth certificate cannot be reissued, although an amendment can be made in the margin of the original document. But Bingham said this is not enough. “People reading a birth certificate might easily miss a tiny note in the margin – which means that Lilah could be regarded as male when she applies for school, her passport, for jobs – for everything that she needs a full birth certificate for.”

And given that this was published in The Guardian, this article makes zero mention as to why it’s impossible for this couple to receive an updated birth certificate with correct information (something the author notes was possible to do a year ago), but the reason is obviously transphobia. 

Now one might ask why there’s no exception for cis people whose birth certificates were recorded incorrectly at birth, but this reveals the instability of cissexualism. How would you determine who is a cis person with a mistaken birth certificate, versus a trans person who wants to change their mistaken sex assignment record? Sure, you could say well, this is an infant, of course she’s “really” “biologically” female (something the parents argue in the article as grounds for having their child’s birth certificate re-issued), but 1) that certainly can’t be argued for in all cases, 2) 'biological sex' is understood by medical doctors as alterable through hormones and surgery, which trans people are often required to undergo in order to change their records, and 3) binary sex assignment is already imprecise and discretionary, particularly if infants have sex characteristics that don’t conform to binary F/M assignment standards (which is part of how the category of intersex emerges, framing this failure to conform to state census categories as a biological defect - and in fact, many intersex people do not discover they are intersex until the onset of puberty or later, at which point they are even less in luck if they want to change their sex assignment - and if they don’t, if they are cis but have sex characteristics that do not conform to cis standards, they will be discriminated against anyway). 

Even setting aside the issue of transgender and intersex people for a moment, states fuck up all the time in administration! you've probably either experienced this directly or know someone who's had some kind of record fucked up by the government at some point in their life. If you get married they could fuck up changing your last name, fuck up your disability status, record your social insurance number wrong, print the wrong address on your driver’s license, fail to acknowledge you as a dependent when filing taxes, incorrectly mark you as having graduated when you’re still a student, fuck up your immigration paperwork, record your name wrong during immigration, etc etc into infinity, and this is not even getting into errors that occur when different levels of government pass information between one another. This level of administrative rigidity is purely to punish people who fail to perform cissexualism correctly, and in the case of this couple's child, the administrative error of the state is imputed to them as a personal failure that she and her parents will now have to deal with for the rest of their lives. 

I think the ultimate analysis is not that transphobia will become less precise and hit more "wrong" targets as it expands its reach, but that this is the exact same operational logic as all other liberal state measures - if you encounter a systemic issue, it’s your fault for not avoiding it, fuck you, go away. You’re poor because you’re lazy, you’re unhoused because you’re lazy, you’re disabled because you’re lazy, and your daughter is now administratively transsexual because you’re lazy. In this case, we don’t even need to assume the intentions of the state - they outright say it:

The family complained to the GRO but was told the mistake was their responsibility and could not be fully rectified. “The duty to ensure that information recorded in any particular entry is true is the responsibility of the person providing the information and not of the registrar general or the registrar recording the birth,” the GRO said.

[emjayewrites]

in between the lines • jules kounde (4/4)

SYNOPSIS: At Zuri’s engagement party, Senait meets her best friend’s fiancé, Aurélien, and his friend, Jules. A spontaneous hookup with Jules sparks undeniable chemistry, but when Senait ghosts him afterward, she finds herself wrestling with her insecurities as the casual fling begins shifting into something deeper.

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Senait Kiros (@/subanbrn)

WARNINGS: football b.s., cursing, smut, drama, mentions of cheating/past relationships, dominant!jules, instant attraction/fast development. MINORS DNI (18+)

TAGLIST: @trenterprise @f1-football-fiend @lettersofgold @hopefulromantic1 @deonn-jaelle @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @queenshikongo3 @2serenity0 @saturnville @sinflowersugar @hotfudgeslug @muglermami @serpenttines-library @sucredreamer @julescpu @greyishbach @shelovesfootie @certifiedlesbianbaddie @trinitoldyouso @greedyjudge2 @peyiswriting @127hydrangeas @rosiesdior @whoevenisthiz

A/N: Gif by @doinggreat

Not having a return flight felt both terrifying and exhilarating. Senait lay in Jules' bed, watching shadows play across the ceiling as sunlight filtered through the curtains. Her phone hadn't buzzed with work emergencies for the first time in three years. No crisis meetings, no client demands, no Greg's passive-aggressive emails.

Just... freedom.

Scary, overwhelming freedom.

Jules had insisted she take the day to rest, popping in between his training sessions to check on her. Each time he'd find a different way to make her smile – bringing her favorite snacks, curling around her for quick naps, even convincing Maurice to perform an impromptu concert.

"You're hovering," she'd accused during one such visit.

"I'm caring," he'd corrected, pressing a kiss to her temple before heading back to training.

Now, as evening slowly approached, Senait could smell something amazing wafting from the kitchen. She found Jules at the stove, looking so sexy in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Sit," he commanded, nodding toward the counter. "I have something for you."

"Jules..."

But he was already pulling out a carefully wrapped package. Inside, Senait found a collection of high-end calligraphy supplies – inks, nibs, and papers she'd only dreamed of working with.

"I did some research," Jules said, watching her face. "These are the good ones, right?"

Senait ran her fingers over the supplies, emotion catching in her throat. "They're perfect. But Jules, I can't—"

"Let me help," he interrupted softly. "Not because you need it, but because I want to. Because I believe in you."

She kissed him then, trying to pour all her gratitude and confusion and hope into it. Jules responded immediately, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until they were both breathless.

"So," he murmured against her lips, "when are you going to make an honest man out of me?"

Senait froze. "What?"

Jules pulled back slightly, studying her face. "We've known each other for almost two months. Things are moving fast – which I'm not complaining about – but maybe it's time to make it official."

"I... I just quit my job," Senait stammered. "And now you want..."

"A commitment? Yes." His hands stayed on her waist, grounding her even as panic fluttered in her chest. "Why does that scare you so much?"

"Because!" She pulled away, needing space to think. "Everything's changing so fast. I need... I need to figure things out first."

"Like what?"

"Like therapy," she admitted quietly. "Like dealing with these walls I've built. Like not fucking this up because I'm too scared to let anyone in."

"You're so fucking stubborn," Jules said, but there was fondness mixed with his frustration. "You think I don't see your walls? Your fears? I'm still here, Senait."

"I know." She wrapped her arms around herself. "And I want... I want to try. With you. But I need to do this right. I need to work on myself first."

Jules was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Go to therapy. Work on yourself." He stepped closer, tucking a curl behind her ear. "I'll be here. But don't use it as an excuse to keep running."

Senait leaned into his touch. "I'm trying not to."

"I know, chérie." He kissed her forehead. "Now eat before the food gets cold."

_______________________________________________

Madrid held different memories for Senait now – her first visit for Zuri's engagement party months ago felt like another lifetime compared to being here for El Clásico. The energy around the match was electric, filling every corner of the city.

She met Zuri in the hotel lobby, where her friend was waiting with a woman Senait instantly recognized from social media – Lila Hamilton.

"Finally!" Zuri exclaimed, hugging Senait. "You guys didn’t get the chance to meet at the engagent party but Lila, this is my best friend, Senait. Sen, meet Lila – Lewis' sister and Jude's better half."

Lila's smile was warm, her British accent elegant as she said, "Heard so much about you. Zuri says you're the one who finally tamed Jules?"

"I wouldn't say tamed," Senait laughed. "More like... reached a mutual understanding."

"With Jules?" Lila raised an eyebrow. "That's practically the same thing."

The three women clicked immediately. Senait found herself drawn to Lila's dry humor and genuine warmth. It was clear why she and Zuri had become such close friends – they shared the same straightforward approach to life.

"So you're actually supporting Barcelona?" Lila asked as they made their way to the Bernabéu, noting Senait's scarf. "Brave, considering you're walking in with two Madrid supporters."

"Trust me, I'm as surprised as you are," Senait admitted. "But apparently I have... priorities."

"Jules being one of them?" Zuri teased.

"Jules being the only one," Lila corrected with a knowing smile.

The Santiago Bernabéu was a different beast than the Olympic Stadium. Senait felt the electricity in the air, the tension between the two sets of fans palpable even as she followed Zuri and Lila to their seats.

"Ready for your first Clásico?" Lila asked, adjusting her Real Madrid scarf.

Senait fingered her own scarf – one of Jules' that she'd stolen despite her protests about not being a "football girlfriend." But here she was, heart racing every time she caught sight of him warming up on the pitch.

The match itself was intense. Senait found herself on her feet more often than not, shouting things she barely understood but feeling them deeply. When Jules made a particularly brilliant play, she screamed his name without thinking, earning knowing smirks from both Zuri and Lila.

Barcelona's dominance was clear from the start. Each goal felt like a physical rush, the away section erupting in celebration. Senait watched Jules' confident movements, the way he controlled the midfield, and felt a surge of pride she wasn't quite ready to examine.

By the time the final whistle blew at 0-4, Senait's voice was hoarse from shouting. She linked arms with Zuri and Lila as they made their way down the stadium steps, the Barcelona fans' victory chants echoing around them.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Zuri teased, nudging her. "You really are Jules' number one fan now, huh?"

Senait rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her smile. "Don't get used to it. It's a one-time thing," she quipped, though she couldn't help glancing toward the tunnel where the players would emerge.

The wait seemed endless. Senait watched as Aurélien appeared first, his disappointment evident despite his dignified bearing. Zuri immediately went to him, wrapping him in a comforting embrace. Then Jude, his frustration clear as Lila quietly led him away.

And then Jules – still radiating that quiet confidence she'd come to associate with him, his eyes finding her immediately in the crowd. Heat pooled in her belly at the look he gave her, pride and possession and promise all mixed together.

"Enjoyed the show?" he asked, pulling her close despite her token protest about his sweaty state.

"You were adequate," she deadpanned, but her smile gave her away.

Back at the hotel room later, a celebration took a more private turn. Jules had her pressed against the door almost before it closed, his hands possessive on her hips.

"Been wanting to do this since I saw you in my scarf," he growled against her neck.

"Is that why you let me steal it?" Senait gasped as his teeth found a sensitive spot. "Part of your master plan?"

"Everything's part of my master plan, chérie."

And maybe it was. Maybe this had all been inevitable from the moment she'd met his eyes at Zuri's engagement party. Maybe all her running had just been delaying the inevitable.

Later, curled into his side, pleasantly sore and completely satisfied, Senait traced patterns on his chest. "I made an appointment," she said quietly.

Jules' hand paused in her hair. "For therapy?"

She nodded. "Found someone who specializes in relationship trauma. She's got great reviews."

"I'm proud of you." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "When?"

"Next week. Virtual session." She propped herself up to look at him. "Is that okay? Me staying in Barcelona but..."

"Working on yourself?" He smiled. "More than okay. Though I warn you – Maurice might try to join your sessions. He's very interested in psychology."

Senait laughed, the sound free and genuine. "Your rooster is a menace."

"Our rooster."

She tensed slightly at that, but not in fear. More in... anticipation. Because 'our' didn't sound as scary as it used to.

"One step at a time," Jules murmured, clearly reading her reaction. "No pressure. Just... possibility."

Senait settled back against him, letting his heartbeat steady her. "I like possibilities."

"Good." His hand resumed its gentle stroking of her hair. "Because I have quite a few in mind."

As she drifted off to sleep, Senait thought about how different this felt from every other relationship she'd had. How Jules pushed without pressuring, supported without suffocating. How he saw her walls but didn't try to break them down – just waited patiently for her to build doors instead.

Maybe that's what real love was supposed to feel like. Not the desperate clinging she'd had with Tymir, not the constant fear of not being enough. But this – this steady warmth, this gentle strength, this quiet certainty that whatever came next, they'd face it together.

One step at a time.

Two weeks after El Clásico, Senait sat cross-legged in Jules' home office, laptop balanced on her knees, finalizing another custom wedding signage order. Maurice strutted past the window, the speakers nearby playing what she swore was Vivaldi.

"Your taste in music is getting crazy, my guy," she called out to the rooster, who merely preened in response.

Her Etsy notifications kept pinging – the surge in orders since quitting her job felt almost cosmic. The universe's way of saying "about time" perhaps. She'd spent the morning researching web designers, knowing her business needed a proper site. Her makeshift Instagram business account already had a decent following, helped by Zuri's subtle promotions to her now-massive audience.

The call with her parents had been full of "I told you so" energy, but the loving kind. "See what happens when you finally listen to your mother?" her mom had teased. They were happy to see her actually living her life instead of just surviving it, even if that life currently involved a French footballer and living with him on a different continent.

The therapy sessions were helping too. Dr. Obazi had a way of making Senait see patterns she'd been blind to. "You're not afraid of success," she'd said in their first session. "You're afraid of deserving it."

That had hit home hard.

So had finally blocking Tymir on everything. She'd hesitated over the button for a moment, years of history making her finger pause. Then she'd remembered his comment on her photo, his casual assumption that he still had the right to her attention.

Click. Done.

"Better late than never," she'd muttered, and felt lighter immediately.

The past weekend in Paris had been surreal. Jules' friend Axel had thrown an elaborate Halloween party, and she'd found herself swept into Jules' inner circle. His Dracula costume had been simple but effective – all black with a dramatic cape and subtle fangs. She'd matched him as his bride, in a flowing white dress with intricate lace details, dark makeup, and artfully messy curls.

"We have the most predictable costumes," she'd teased.

"Sexy," he'd corrected, eyes darkening as he took in her outfit.

Meeting his friends had been surprisingly easy. Axel, with his easy charm and quick wit. Wilhelm, quieter but sharp as a tack. Hugo and Manuel, who treated her like they'd known her forever.

"So you're the one who's got Jules actually answering his phone," Hugo had teased.

"Someone has to keep him in line," she'd shot back, earning appreciative laughs.

The party had been a blur of expensive champagne and elaborate costumes. Jules had kept her close all night, his hands growing increasingly possessive as the alcohol flowed. What happened back in their hotel room... Senait felt heat rise to her cheeks just thinking about it. Jules, it turned out, was even more commanding when drunk, and she'd been more than happy to submit to his... demands.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from the memory: The guys want to come over to watch game footage. That okay?

S: As riveting as that sounds... J: You can work in the office. Just want you near.

Simple. Direct. So Jules.

S: Fine. But I'm not watching football. J: You watched every minute of El Clásico. S: That was different. J: Because you're my biggest fan?

Senait smiled, remembering Zuri's teasing about the same thing. I'm hanging up now.

J: This is a text. S: Goodbye, Jules. J: See you in a bit, chérie.

A notification pinged – another order. A massive corporate client wanting custom place cards for their holiday party. The kind of order that could fund a proper website, maybe even a small studio space.

She was settling into a routine she'd never planned but couldn't imagine living without. Mornings with Maurice's concerts, days split between calligraphy work and exploring the city, evenings with Jules that usually ended tangled in his sheets.

Barcelona was beginning to feel like home. Her favorite café knew her order. The local art supply store kept her preferred inks in stock. Even Maurice had accepted her as part of his audience.

More than that, she was happy. Actually, genuinely happy. The kind of happiness that came from choosing yourself, from letting people in, from building something real.

She glanced around Jules' office – now unofficially hers too during work hours. Her calligraphy supplies had their own drawer, her laptop had a permanent spot on the desk, and she'd even added some plants to the space. Small changes that spoke of bigger ones.

The sound of the front door opening announced Jules' return. Soon the house would be full of his teammates, their animated conversations filling the space as they analyzed game footage. She'd pretend to be completely focused on work, but would probably end up watching anyway, just like she always did.

This was her life now. Not the one she'd planned, not the safe corporate path she'd thought she needed to follow. Instead, she had a growing business, a weekly therapy appointment, and a man who knew exactly when to push and when to be patient.

Jules appeared in the doorway of the office, fresh from training with slightly damp dreads. Just looking at him made something warm unfurl in Senait's chest – a feeling she was slowly learning not to fight.

"Hi," he said simply, crossing to where she sat.

"Hi yourself." She tilted her head up for his kiss, meaning to keep it brief. But Jules had other ideas, deepening the kiss until she was breathless.

"The guys will be here soon," she murmured against his lips.

"Mm. Ten minutes." His hand slid into her hair. "More than enough time."

"To do what exactly?"

His smirk was wicked. "To properly greet you."

Before she could respond, he'd pulled her up from her chair, pressing her against the desk. His hands found her hips, lifting her to sit on the edge.

"Jules—"

"Let me just..." He stepped between her legs.

Jules’ lips traced a line down her neck, making Senait shiver as he teased the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. His fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt dress, pushing it higher up her thighs until he had a full view of the lace panties she’d chosen that morning. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words turned to a sigh as his hands gripped her waist tighter.

"Just a quick one," he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill down her spine. His eyes were dark with desire, and Senait found herself nodding, anticipation already pooling within her.

Jules stepped back just long enough to fish something out of his pants pocket. Senait couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up when she saw it: a condom.

"You planned this," she accused, her laughter fading into a gasp as he slipped his hands under her thighs, dragging her closer to the edge of the desk.

"Always prepared," he murmured with a grin, dropping both his pants and boxers to lay around his ankles and then ripping open the foil packet. As he sheathed himself, his gaze stayed locked on hers, filled with heat and mischief. Senait's pulse quickened, her body already humming in anticipation.

With a firm tug, he pulled her panties to the side, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her. He didn’t waste a moment, pressing into her slowly, making her toes curl. Senait clutched at his shoulders, the edge of the desk digging into the back of her thighs as Jules began to move, setting a fast, relentless pace.

"Fuck," she whispered, her breath coming in short, needy gasps. Jules had her pinned in place, one hand splayed across her lower back to keep her steady, the other gripping her thigh. The slight roughness of his fingertips, the way he filled her so perfectly, had her clenching around him, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

He leaned forward, his mouth brushing her ear. "You feel so fucking good, chérie," he groaned, the strain in his voice making her core tighten. The office was filled with the sounds of their rushed, desperate joining—the rhythmic slap of skin on skin, the creak of the desk beneath them, and the breathless, incoherent sounds that slipped from Senait’s lips.

Her fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in for a kiss, desperate to muffle her own cries as the pressure built inside her. Jules responded eagerly, swallowing her moans, his rhythm never faltering. The intensity of it all—the risk of being caught, the wild passion in his eyes, the feeling of him claiming her—had her teetering on the edge faster than she expected.

"I’m close," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rush of her heartbeat. Jules’ grip on her tightened, his hips snapping forward harder, his own breathing ragged.

"Let go for me," he urged, his voice thick with urgency. Senait’s body obeyed, pleasure exploding through her, making her shudder and cling to him as her climax washed over her. Jules followed soon after, his groan deep and satisfied as he buried himself in her one last time.

For a moment, they stayed like that, tangled together, breathing heavily. But the moment of bliss was broken by the sound of the doorbell ringing, echoing through the home.

"Shit," Senait whispered, her eyes wide. Jules pulled out of her with a grin, discarding the condom and adjusting his clothes swiftly.

"Go clean up," he said, smacking her ass as she wobbled off the desk, her legs still shaky. The playful sting of his hand made her yelp, and she shot him a glare over her shoulder.

"Asshole," she muttered, though she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. He just laughed, his expression smug and satisfied.

"Better hurry," he teased. "Don’t want the guys to see you looking all… well, like that."

Senait rolled her eyes, gathering herself and making her way out of the office and down the hallway. But the flush on her cheeks and the way her legs trembled with every step were undeniable reminders of what had just happened, and she couldn't stop the grin that spread across her lips.

In the bathroom, she caught sight of herself in the mirror – hair mussed, lips swollen, that unmistakable post-sex glow. The sound of voices grew louder – boisterous laughter as the guys settled in the living room.

After making herself presentable, Senait padded back to the office, settling in with her laptop. She tried to focus on her work, but found herself listening to Jules' voice among them, authoritative and sure as he discussed strategy.

This was her life now. And somehow, impossibly, it fit perfectly.

Sometimes Jules still couldn't believe how naturally Senait had integrated into his life. Watching her work in his home office, Maurice strutting past the window like a personal guard, felt right in a way he hadn't expected when this started.

Her therapy sessions were making a difference – he could see it in how she carried herself, how she was slowly letting her walls down. They weren't official yet, but he could wait. She was worth waiting for, worth giving time to heal and grow at her own pace.

"Ready?" she called from the office. They had errands to run – art supplies for her growing calligraphy business, orders to ship at the post office. Her Etsy shop was thriving, custom orders piling up faster than she could handle them.

The art supply store was their first stop. Jules watched as she carefully selected papers, inks, specialty pens. Her face lit up discussing different techniques with the shop owner, passionate in a way that made his chest warm. This was the Senait he loved seeing – confident, in her element, fully herself.

The post office queue wrapped around the building, but Jules didn't mind. Senait's arms were full of carefully wrapped packages – elaborate wedding signage, custom birthday installations, pieces that showcased her unique style. She'd worked late into the night finishing them, and watching her now, checking tracking numbers and insurance details, he felt overwhelmingly proud.

"Tu novia tiene mucho talento," the postal worker commented, admiring one of the visible designs. ("Your girlfriend's quite talented.”)

Jules didn't correct her assumption. Instead, he helped Senait balance the packages, stealing glances at her focused expression, the way she bit her lip while calculating shipping costs.

The sneaker store was where they slipped up. A small group of teenagers recognized him, eyes widening as they nudged each other. Jules tensed slightly – he was careful about public appearances, especially with Senait. His PR team had helped keep their relationship private, away from the football gossip machine.

"¿Te importaría una foto?" one boy asked nervously.

Jules glanced at Senait, who had already stepped back, understanding without words. He took a few quick pictures, signed some shoes, then they made their exit.

"Sorry about that," he said once they were in the car.

"Don't be. It's part of who you are."

Later, floating in his pool on one of his loungers, the Barcelona sun warm on their skin, Jules thought about Aurélien's text. His friend had been through hell with Zuri lately – family drama, media scrutiny, the works. The suggestion of a group trip to Megève had come with a note about needing peace, about wanting to share that peace with the people who'd supported them.

"Aurélien's planning a trip," Jules said, watching Senait's reaction carefully. "Megève in December. Him and Zuri, Jude and Lila. Thought we could join."

She turned in his arms, water droplets clinging to her eyelashes. "Sounds nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Small steps, but progress nonetheless. Jules pressed a kiss to her temple, content just to have her here, in his pool, in his life. Two months ago, she might have balked at the idea of a couples' holiday. Now she was planning it with him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Maurice's indignant crow from his enclosure made them both laugh. The rooster had taken to protesting when they used the pool, as if offended by their water activities.

"Your bird is jealous," Senait said, shifting to watch Maurice's dramatic display.

"Our bird," Jules corrected automatically, and smiled when he heard her hum noncommittally.

They stayed in the pool until the sun started to set, talking about everything and nothing. Her latest orders – a massive wedding installation that had her excited about the creative possibilities. His upcoming matches, training schedules, team dynamics.

It felt domestic in the best way. Like they'd been doing this forever, would keep doing it for years to come. Jules found himself imagining more moments like this – Senait in his space, planning futures together, Maurice providing the soundtrack to their life.

After showering and ordering dinner, they settled on his couch. Senait was sketching design ideas while Jules watched match footage, her feet in his lap, Maurice performing his evening concert in the background.

Even if she wasn't ready to name it yet, even if she still needed time to heal and trust and grow – Jules knew what this was. Knew that all the waiting, all the patience, all the careful steps forward would be worth it.

Looking at her now, completely absorbed in her sketches, wearing one of his t-shirts like it belonged to her, Jules felt something settle in his chest. A certainty that hadn't been there before.

This was it. She was it. Everything else was just details they'd figure out together.

THE END….epilogue coming soon…..

[catholicfacade]

WIP PREVIEW

pairing: joost klein x f! reader, joost klein x f! OC

word count: 3,572

synopsis: Joost Klein accidentally meets the love of his life through a tik tok. Valentine. She’s his complete opposite; quiet, reserved, and a bit cold, whereas Joost is bright, bubbly, and extremely outgoing, almost obnoxiously so. But opposites attract and the art of balance is delicate. Getting to know each other without interference proves difficult at first, but the minute Joost and Valentine realize their pining is mutual it’s full speed ahead for the two of them. Like puzzle pieces, they become inseparable, fitted together like it’s always meant to be. Everyone around them is convinced no two people in the world love each other as much as Joost and Valentine do. But Joost’s growing fame sends him down an unexpected spiral, one Valentine is desperate to pull him out of. It changes everything. The two who were once attached at the hip learn to no longer even speak each others names, desperately still in love, but the damage is unbearable. If only the puzzle pieces can come together again to realize just how perfect they are for each other.

authors note: tagging this as both x reader and x OC because this is written in 3rd person POV, i find writing 2nd person difficult for me because i just tend to write “reader” as self-insert, and i know i am a VERY specific type of person 😅 soooooo lowkey self-ship??? but i think it’s best to just make reader an OC and you can simply swap out her name, pronouns, and traits for your own when it’s necessary. and so i would say Valentine [who i named after my own last name, this is just the name i use for ALL my protagonists in my writing actually😅], she’s implied to be autistic/neurodivergent and generally just socially awkward, quiet, introverted. again, self-insert. she is also goth. i always write protagonists with really heavy, angsty, traumatic backstories so i think that’s also why i turn readers into OC’s because i don’t want to force a traumatic past upon you as reader 😭 there is also “April”, who is a second OC i made for this series, she is Valentines best friend who owns her own alternative clothing company and is very important to the story along the way:))

content: RPF, awkwardness, slow burn, pining, yearning, hint of angst, mention alcohol consumption, masturbation, kissing, fantasizing

!!18+ & RPF, DO NOT REPOST OR INTERACT IF RPF MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!!

how it started:

At 12pm on the dot, two people walk in, Valentine greets them smiling, “Hallo! Hoe gaat het?” [Hello! How are you?] Her Dutch is limited but she tries her best.

“Hallo, is April hier?” [Hello, is April here?] The girl with dark curly hair asks as she approaches, she’s followed by what Valentine assumes to be her boyfriend.

“Nee, maar kan ik jullie helpen?” [No, but can I help you?] Val offers them a gentle smile, unsure if her Dutch is even grammatically correct or not.

“Oh-“ The girls eyebrows shoot up, “You’re Valentine, right?” She suddenly switches to English, Valentine is simultaneously embarrassed but also thankful for the switch.

A blush rises on her cheeks as she nods, “Yeah that’s me, sorry about my Dutch.” She waves her hand apologetically.

“I’m Alanis, and this is Apson.” Alanis smiles and holds her hand out and so does Apson. Val shakes their hands, “Nice to meet you guys, you wanted to film in the store right?”

“Ja, just a little skit about being emo. I wanna seem like a guy who is a total poser and then run out of the store crying when I get called out.” Apson said, maybe blushing a little from having to explain his stupid bit.

It made Valentine chuckle though, “Do whatever you gotta do, man! April told me you have permission from her already so you’re good to do your thing.”

“Thanks,” Apson and Alanis said in unison, which made them giggle at each other.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Apson said looking around.

“Sure,” Val nodded, “Let me open the changing room for you.” She grabbed the keys and unlocked the changing room at the back of the store as Appie and Alanis brainstormed what the character should be wearing. They ended up picking out a stereotypical e-boy outfit, a black and white striped long-sleeve shirt, a Metallica t-shirt to go on top, some fingerless skeleton gloves, baggy Tripp pants, and a studded belt.

Appie went into the changing room a few minutes later to get ready, leaving Valentine and Alanis outside together.

“How long have you worked here? It feels weird we haven’t seen you around yet, we’re in here all the time it feels like.” Alanis asked, tilting her head slightly to examine Valentine.

“Not long, only a month now. I think we must’ve just narrowly avoided each other this whole time.” Valentine chuckles and Alanis nods in agreement.

“How long have you known April then?” Valentine asks Alanis.

“I got one piece of jewelry here like a year ago,” Alanis shows Val her gemstone necklace, “And now I get all my jewelry from here, look!” Alanis smiles, showing a few silver rings on her fingers and a beaded bracelet.

“Oh, is that moonstone?” Valentine asks excitedly.

“Yeah! Isn’t it so pretty?” Alanis moves the beads around so they flash their colors brightly in Valentines eyes.

“I love it, and it goes perfectly with your outfit!” She said and Alanis thanks her, “My favorite gemstone is—“

“Done!” Apson calls out suddenly, making both of the girls turn, he looks a bit ridiculous, but that’s the point. The pants are definitely a size too big and the belt definitely isn’t helping because they are practically hanging off of his body.

“Let me put some eyeshadow on you.” Alanis mumbles as she approaches Appie, she looks through her bag until she finds the small compact, taking it out to apply the black shadow loosely around Apson’s eyes. He ends up just looking more tired than emo, but again, it must be what works for the skit.

Val just watches from afar with an amused smile on her face, she likes them, Appie and Alanis, they seem like good people. There’s some footsteps behind her and she turns to see a few customers coming in, “Goedendag!” [Good day!] She greets them, they say it back before looking around at some of the shelves at the front of the store. Valentine returns to her earlier work, stitching by hand some stars onto the corner of a skirt.

“Okay, like this—“ Appie talks Alanis through the scene first, he’s speaking Dutch again so Val can’t pick up most of what he’s saying, he’s just gesturing for how and where Alanis should hold the camera when they go to film. He’s quietly rehearsing the lines with her when he perks up a bit, “Wait…Valentine?”

Val looks over at Appie, “Do you mind saying a line for the tik tok? Just the one about me being a poser?”

She grows a bit nervous, “Oh uhhh…I’m probably not very good at acting… I don’t really post on tik tok like that…” She rubs the back of her neck and looks between Apson and Alanis awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, you just gotta go like ‘ew, fucking poser’ and that’s it!” Apson gives the line a little scoff and a little attitude to it. He grins at her, clearly enthused with his new idea.

“Okay…” Val agrees weakly, coming around the counter to stand by Alanis’ side.

“Okay so like this,” Apson says, rerunning through his lines once more while Alanis practices getting the best angles for the tik tok, “And then camera turns, and you say…?”

Alanis turns the camera on Valentine, who scoffs while looking at Appie, “Such a fucking poser…” She says with all the vitriol she can muster.

“Perfect!” Appie shoots her two thumbs up as Alanis turns the camera back on him, “Then, I’ll begin to cry like this, wahhhh!” Appie cries exaggeratedly, then turns and takes a few steps towards the door. “Then I’ll run outside and that’s it, got it?”

“Got it.” Val and Alanis both say.

The three of them get into position, Appie with his back to the door, standing amongst all the clothes, Alanis starting the recording on her phone, and Valentine just off to side, waiting to deliver her line.

“Aaaaaand action!” Apson claps loudly. Alanis zooms in quickly to Appies face, he’s slouching, neck bent at an awkward angle to seem more depressed, the face he’s making makes him look dead inside, it’s exaggerated by the deep black makeup Alanis brushed around his eyes.

“Ik ben zooooo emo….” [I am soooo emo] Apson delivered the line as flatly as he could, adding a bit of a vocal fry to the ‘zoooo’. Alanis snaps the camera back to show his full outfit before zooming in on his face again for the next line, “Ik ben zoooooo depressief…” [I am sooo depressed]

Valentine held back her laughter, perhaps it wasn’t exactly her type of humor, but it was fun to watch!

Apson gave a big eyeroll to the camera, then looked into it, “Niemand zal mij ooit begrijpen…” [No one will ever understand me]

He suddenly grunts loudly, his expression growing more angry, “Ik zit de hele dag op mijn kamer naar muziek te luisteren, niemand begrijpt het!” [I sit in my room and listen to music all day, no one understands!] He yells.

The camera whips around to Valentine, she puts a disgusted look on her face and scoffs like she did the first time, “Such a fucking poser.” She shakes her head lightly.

Alanis whips the camera back around to Apson, he looks like he’s about to scream, “NEEEE!” He bursts into faux tears, and suddenly he turns to run out of the store. Alanis follows, and they pass the customers Valentine had completely forgotten were even in here! They seem completely and utterly confused and Val feels a little bad for them.

As Appie and Alanis cross the threshold onto the street, still filming, Appie still making wailing noises, he trips on his baggy pants and falls. Valentine gasps, Alanis keeps filming, and someone nearly hits Apson on the ground with their bike.

“Ik ben geen poser!” [I am not a poser!] Apson yells his final line, sobbing crying, clutching his elbow, and Alanis stops recording. She helps him up, they’re laughing as they walk back inside but it seems Appie actually got hurt.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Valentine comes up to them, slightly stunned but also laughing.

“I’m okay,” Appie nods, then turns to the people at the front of the store who are just frozen in shock, “I’m okay!” He waves at them, and they slowly return to what they were looking at in abject horror.

“You’re bleeding a little,” Val frowns when she sees Apsons elbow, “Here, I’ve got a bandaid in my purse.” She moves over to the counter again, opening her bag and pulling out a bandaid for him.

Alanis takes it from her and opens it, “Thanks Valentine.” Appie says warmly.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles.

“I think I should pay for the shirt,” He says while wincing as Alanis applies the bandage to his broken skin, “Pretty sure I got blood on it.”

“Probably a good idea,” Valentine agrees, “April said you could film in the store, not bleed all over her products.”

“Want anything while we’re here, babe?” Apson asks Alanis, who brightens up immediately at the idea of getting herself a little something. “I’ll go get changed while you pick something out.” He says and walks into the changing room to get back into his clothes.

“Can I see your rings, please?” Alanis asks Valentine brightly.

“Of course!” She unlocks the jewelry case behind the counter and pulls out the rack of rings for Alanis to inspect. She picks up one and tries it on, examining her hand afterwards.

“So when will that video get posted?” Val asks.

“I think Appie will post it on Friday.” She studies the ring on her finger before putting it back and picking up another one. “We should be mutuals!”

“I’d like that,” Valentine grins at Alanis and pulls out her phone, opening tik tok and handing her phone to her. Alanis lets her follow both her and Apsons accounts, Val asks to be mutuals on instagram too.

“There!” Alanis says while handing Val’s phone back to her, “You can message me whenever you want to.”

how it’s going:

The sun shines bright outside of Joosts window, he stirs back and forth for a few minutes before finally opening his eyes. The first thing he sees is his Stitch plushie sitting on the other side of the bed, staring at him. He reaches out and grabs it, bringing it to his chest and squeezes it in a bear hug.

“Goedenmorgen.” Joost grumbles while stretching, his head hurts slightly from a long night of drinking but mostly from the way the sun won’t leave his face.

He rolls over onto his back, picking up Stitch again, he stares at the plush toy for a while with his tired eyes, wondering if he’s weird for talking to it or cuddling with it every night. Wondering if that even matters at all. Wondering if it secretly means something about how lonely he is.

But Joost would do anything not to think about that subject, so he tosses Stitch aside and grabs his phone from the nightstand. It’s already passed 2pm and he’s missed at least 15 text messages between his friends.

Stuntje: “You coming out tonight again?” Stuntje: “Bro? U good?”

Tantu: “Beat coming along nicely👍” *1 image attatched*

Apson: “Made a banger post on tik tok! 😂” Apson: “Please leave me a like boys, I bled for this one! 💀” -tap to see more notifications-

Joost sighs through his nose, opening the tik tok app, his therapist has been trying to get him to stay off tik tok first thing in morning but he can’t help it, especially not when his best friend just posted. It’s also not technically morning anymore.

He watches the funny dog video that pops up on his FYP first, liking it and scrolling to the next video. It’s some level 99 brain-rot meme about skibbity rizz in Ohio, he chuckles and leaves a like before scrolling. The next video is an ad and he instantly scrolls. Apsons video finally pops up:

@ apsonarmy posted 1hr. tagged: @ v4lent1ne @ aprilsclosetNL

emos be like 😂💔💀🤘 #emo #poser 10k likes

202 comments

1k shares

There’s big text on the top of the screen that says “EMOS BE LIKE 🧛”, and there’s Apson, fully looking like an e-boy, pretending to be moody and mysterious.

“Ik ben zooooo emo….”

Joost smiles, immediately liking the post. He watches his friend act on screen as the video plays, chuckling as his friends line delivery keeps getting more and more over-the-top with each sentence. And then the camera pans and he sees this girl on screen, she’s wearing tight, leather, flared pants, a grommet belt with a silver star belt buckle, a cute little cropped graphic tee that shows off her midriff, and some silver chains hanging around her neck.

“Such a fucking poser.” She sneers, her voice ablaze with attitude.

Joosts eyebrows shoot up, she has the most beautifully sharp eyes he’s ever seen, and this head full of thick, fiery hair, glossy lips, and gorgeous makeup. She was undeniable, whoever she was. The type of beauty that would end up in every magazines “Top 100 Most Beautiful Women Of All Time” list—No, Top 50, maybe even Top 10. And yet as soon as she was on screen, she was off. The camera points back at Apson’s dramatic reaction. Joost watches as the chaos unfolds when Apson begins running, trips, falls, nearly gets hit by a bike, screams “no” while lying on the streets of Amsterdam, and clutches his bleeding arm.

The video loops…and Joost watches it again. And again. And again. He’s actually not sure how many times he lets it play before the low battery notification snaps him out of his daze. He quickly taps it away, using his thumb to scroll back to the part where the girl calls Appie a poser. He pauses the video when her face is fully in frame and clears the tik tok display. She was breathtaking—literally, Joost was unintentionally holding his breath. He sat there enamored for a while, then brought the display back, checking the “tagged” portion of the caption to see her there, @ v4lent1ne.

Joost clicks on her profile so fast, just to be severely let down when he sees she only has one video available on her profile. He reads her bio;

“Valentine, 27, Designer, Amsterdam.”

221 32 101 Following Followers Likes

Followed by a link to the April’s Closet website. She hadn’t bothered to link her instagram to her tik tok. He clicks on the video, it’s just a cute little tik tok of her lip syncing to Korn in a nice outfit and beautiful trad-goth makeup, the date says it’s almost a year old. She doesn’t seem to have as much of that spark within her as she did in Appies video, maybe it’s because she was just acting for that, but she looked thinner in this old tik tok, maybe more tired somehow. He scrolled away once it looped.

“Valentine…” Joost sighed out loud, letting the name roll off his tongue while admiring her in her tiny profile picture. He went back to Appie’s video and opened up the comments, typing out “I agree, bros not emo, bros a POSER 🤣😂👍🔥” He immediately liked his own comment upon sending it.

Joost realized it was suddenly stiflingly hot under his blanket and that damn sun was still shining brightly on his face. He tossed the blanket off of him, letting the cool air of his room hit his skin, he looked down and saw he was half hard. “Shit…” Joost groaned.

He hopped out of bed and headed into the bathroom, he caught his own gaze in the mirror, messy bedhead, stubble growing in, dirty blonde roots showing through his bleached hair. A mess. But nothing a good shave and shower couldn’t fix.

Joost turned the faucet on in the shower, letting the water run for a minute while stepping out of yesterday’s boxers. His cock sprung free, hanging somewhere between half limp and nearly hard. His pink tip was blushing at him, begging him to give it a little attention. It’s been a week since he last jerked off anyway, might as well take care of it, Joost thought as stepped under the warm water.

He let the water run down his body, rinsing away yesterday’s sweat from the bar, yesterday’s arguments with festival bookings, yesterday’s dull thoughts that kept him numb and unhappy. All that mattered right now was his pretty dick perking up under the warmth of the water and what he was going to do with it.

Joost ran his fingers through his pubic hair, scratching lighting at the forest of hair there, slowly moving down to squeeze it at the base. He had no intentions of teasing himself today, but he couldn’t think of anything worth fantasizing about just yet. Perhaps a familiar pair of lips came to mind but he quickly stubbed out that thought. Too fresh. It was one video. He shouldn’t.

But as Joost slowly pumped his fist around his length, his mind kept wandering back to those same features, he couldn’t help but picture her—Valentine, apparently—gazing at him, watching him jerk off. Her eyes squinted at him, watching him jerk his cock faster now at the thought of her, she’d sneer at him the same way she did in Appie’s video.

“What a loser…jerking off to some random girl you just found on the internet? Pathetic.” He pictured her saying.

Joost wondered what her skin would feel like, what her skin would smell like—he stopped touching himself and pumped some body wash into his hand and lathered it on his cock, careful not to get any inside. The smell was obviously familiar to him, masculine and clean and filled the steam around him with its scent. It would do for now. He could picture Valentine smelling like this as he closed his eyes. He pictured himself standing in front of her, nude, while she was in that same outfit from Appie’s tik tok. He approached her, towering over her, though he couldn’t possibly know how tall she is, he looked down at her and her eyes flicked to his lips.

It’s barely even a lewd fantasy but Joost is stroking himself so fucking fast to it, the soap forming slippery suds under his hand with every long pump he takes. He wants to lean in and kiss her neck, right against her pulse, fuck—he can feel his own pulse in his cock right now. Valentine’s would match his. He cups her jaw and sticks his thumb in her mouth, she gladly suckles on it, it makes him moan out loud, “Fuuuck-“

Valentine sinks, slowly, so slowly, to her knees and looks into Joosts eyes. Joost is massaging the head of his dick now, he’s so close to cumming, just needs a little more. In his mind she takes him into her soft hand, enjoying the weight and warmth of him in her palm. And finally, she leans in to capture his tip between her gorgeous lips. Those fucking lips. With that, Joost is moaning and stroking himself so fast he is coming undone. His white ropes hit the bottom of the shower and get slowly washed away into the drain. He fucks into his fist, mind erratically imagining Valentine in a number of situations as Joost cums. Rapid flashing of doggy style, cowgirl, her tits covered in his cum, she’s just as breathless and red in the face as he is!

He uses his other hand to prop himself up against the wall, panting as the last beads of cum roll down his reddened tip. Breathlessly, Joost returns to reality, he drops his cock from his hand and lets the water beat against body. He’s less tense that’s for sure, but there’s a weird sense of guilt about it, Joost promises himself to never fantasize about her again. And he doesn’t. At least not while jerking off.

The first few days after Appie posted the tik tok, Joost would sometimes go back and watch it, but after a week, he became too busy. He forced Valentine out of his head. The weird, unfinished picture of her he created would still materialize from time to time, but she altogether slipped from his mind as the weeks and even months had gone by.

how its going to go:

“Fuck,” Joost pants looking down at V, her lips are swollen and wet with their combined spit as Joost had all but swallowed her whole, the flavor of her grape lip gloss coating his tongue. Joost’s cock twitches in his boxers, “You know, the first time I saw you in Appie’s video you gave me a boner?”

Val lets out a strained laugh from her breathlessness, “Really?” Her fingers reach up to trace his mustache, the pads of her fingers barely grazing the skin of his lips. It feels like the touch of an angel.

“Ja.” Joost nods, still staring, kissing at her fingertips.

A low, erotic hum emanates from her chest, “I guess it was meant to be then.”

Something flashes in Joosts eyes when she says that, something so deep, it was like watching his brain chemistry change in real time. “You were made for me…” He whispers before dipping his head into the crook of V’s neck and teething a hard bite into her soft skin.

[more coming soon ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜] -ego⋆♱✮

[greasydumbfuck]

dumb post of the month. rlly wanted to do one of these so i did. bc life is short i guess

[wemlygust]

It's also reinforced by countless published authors and scriptwriters all saying that people should, "make your villain relatable! Don't make them just evil for evil's sake. The reader should be able to understand why they're doing what they're doing. A tragic villain doing the wrong thing for the right reasons is more compelling and more interesting than a flat villain being evil because evil." People take that advice. And they overdo it and make the villain's reasons make too much sense, oh no, we have to make it evil somehow... Okay also they kill babies! See! Evil! Which, funnily enough, undermines the original goal of making the villain relatable/realistic/interesting/not-evil-for-evil's-sake, because it's literally making the villain evil for evil's sake, except also they have good ideas sometimes. So the remaining, accidental, moral, is just that villains can be right about some stuff. And that the heroes are heroic even if, having delivered passionate speeches about how the villain's methods are unacceptable and how they're doing all the wrong things even if it's for the right reason... they continue to do nothing whatsoever about the underlying problems that inspired the existence of the supervillain in the first place (accidental realism there). My Hero Academia is especially frustrating in this regard. I love that show, don't get me wrong. But it comes SO CLOSE to actually addressing the villains' arguments - which largely about their society's and government's deep inequality problems - seriously, and then just... doesn't. Like. The villains in MHA are all social outcasts for reasons beyond their control. One was raised by a villain. Another is a trans woman (who is fridged pretty early on, but also her teammates use the right pronouns and correct people who misgender her much later on in the show, which is still a surprising/unusual inclusion for a anime/manga, especially for shonen). Another just looks like a lizard and has been discriminated against for that. Multiple were born with powers that, without proper support, can accidentally cause harm, or which other people are alarmed by. They are absolutely intentionally a band of rejects from mainstream society who have been in many ways pushed into becoming villains. They get an entire villain season/arc that *focuses on their perspective and follows them instead of the heroes*. And even after aaaaaall that.... the show STILL never actually has the heroes confront the problems that the villains are very clearly very correct about. It's so frustrating because there are so many points where it feels like it gets so close to that. To maybe having superheroes realize that their society - which they themselves absolutely benefit from in the form of fame and money - has deep flaws that need to be fixed so that the society stops creating villains in the first place. To maybe going in interesting directions with that. But it DOESN'T. It's SO FRUSTRATING ARGH.

... Still a great show though. Anyway I really think a lot of neigh-universal writing advice tidbits like that "make villains' motivations make sense and be relatable, doing anything else is flat and boring" just tends to create 1) a new wave of same-y fiction that all does the same thing and becomes boring after a while, and 2) unintended consequences of various kinds, like this one. (granted this issue with the portrayal of supervillains as "makes a lot of good points but also kills kittens for fun so we can just ignore everything they say I'm sure it's fine" is also deeply rooted in the history of the superhero genre, American media's portrayals of cops (including the in-media-acceptability of cops spying, breaking and entering without a warrant, torturing people and having that be effective), and so on. /rant

[meamiiikiii]

mira !!! :]

[gideonisms]

Does a podcast ever release a take you disagree with so strongly it makes you question everything you heard on it up to that point

[themyscirah]

Reading shit comics kind of sucks but at least I get the satisfaction of proving my own point w this

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

I want to talk about Jaster. Like many among us I knew him first through fic, and he fulfills some very specific roles there. This is cool. I like fic!Jaster and I like those fics. But as this is not a fic, and as we all know misinformation is the death of democracy, I want to draw attention to a couple of things from the only source he actually appears in (andis his original appearance).

One is the general idea of Jaster being the Mand'alor, rightful king of Mandalore, basically Arathorn to Jango's Aragorn or whatever. So, uh. These continuities really do barely mesh, but at his inception, Jaster was the leader of a militia- a mercenary army. They called themselves The Mandalorians (the 'True' bit was added later). There was a leadership challenge and a split, which is where Deathwatch comes from. Deathwatch wanted to do straight conquest instead.

Jaster's previous job had been law enforcement on Concord Dawn. And look, I refuse to read the traviss book, so anything introduced there could prove me wrong and I don't care. But it doesn't really seem like Jaster was ever in the actual government- or for that matter trying to be.

As an aside I just want to note that the darksaber at this time was probably in the hands of Tor Vizla. I think it was Tor Vizla. The Vizla that challenged Jaster for control of the militia and then formed deathwatch, anyway. If the darksaber means something.

It's an interesting trend that fanfic so often has him claiming a throne and at the head of an empire, because that's… what the deathwatch split was about. Power and conquest was what they wanted.

The main thing about the Jaster of the comic though, is the nature of his work. There are mercernary militaries in today's world, and they're generally considered bad fucking news. But Jaster is fictional, so why can't he occupy an idealized role? This is the quote at the top of his wookiepedia page: "So what's wrong with being a mercenary? Is your war worth fighting? If it is, then why does it matter who fights it for you? Aren't we imbued with the righteousness of your cause when we take up arms for you? Would you rather your own men and women died to make the point? And if your war is so noble, so necessary—why aren't you fighting it for yourself? Think of all that before you spit on us, aruetii."

That doesn't sound so bad, right? But weirdly enough, that's nothing like what he's shown actually doing. Actually the canon is surprisingly realistic about what being weapons for hire actually looks like, as we're given two 'slice of life' missions to serve as backdrop for his ongoing conflict with deathwatch.

They involve working for corrupt governments to supress "poorly armed natives" and "political activists". I am not using scarequotes, those are direct quotes. There is no suggestion of taking prisoners- they are there to kill, and that's what they do. They are not fighting armies. They are not choosy about their clients. They take easy credits for killing natives with less equipment and training than them.

I guess this is barely on topic since I'm not even making this into a case about why he shouldn't rule mandalore. I just know that while many of us have watched the clone wars and therefore at least know Satine through the show, Jaster is a hazier figure.

There are a few other misconceptions. The True Mandalorians are generally depicted as diverse in fic, for example, but that is a fanon addition to the lore, originally his whole gang (except for jango) were drawn as white men. There's also the whole thing about valuing children- there's no suggestion that he doesn't, mind, but his version of correct child rearing certainly does not match everyone else's values. I've read umpteen fics where he's appalled by padawan endangerment, for example, but uhhh he was sending Jango into combat as an 8(? i am told) year old.

So those are the main fandom misconceptions that come to mind for Jaster.

I could probably write an essay on why I would choose Satine and why she did a better job. Maybe I will. But for now I'm going to leave it at this: ultimately, he was murdered by deathwatch. And ultimately she was murdered by deathwatch. Same foe, different decade.

So maybe the idea that he would have saved mandalore where she couldn't is some sort of easily demonstrable wishful thinking. Since they met the same fate and lost to the same group of guys.

FINALE - You might want to read the propaganda this time. Lots of misinfo in fandom on these two in particular.

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

Explanation post

Seeding

More propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here!

Yes, I will even reblog the stuff based on fanon, but I will judge you for it.

SATINE KRYZE

Anon: Satine because she served. Mandalorian fashion week would love her. Manda'slay.

Anon: Satine Propaganda: Was supported by the STRONG MAJORITY, led Mandalore to be in peace for NEARLY 20 YEARS, didn't ban mando'a or armour or any part of the culture like fandom claims, is a good fighter, considered EVERY Mandalorian a Mandalorian and didn't discriminate

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: Satine propaganda: she actually ran a functioning government. Not a mercenary band, or a death cult, or a terrorist extremist organisation, an actual functioning government. Yes there was corruption, corruption she did her best to stop to the point of personally getting in firefights with smugglers, but she took a planet devastated by civil war and by the end of her rule she had schools, public works, and a justice system. - Sure, the rest can run military operations (and we don’t know Satine couldn’t, only that she *won’t*) but can they make the bins get emptied regularly to go to the recycling plants?

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: I understand Jaster has the tacticool appeal, and has the iconic armour, but guys. He did an interpretation of some problematic historical values for the more modern day, led a mercenary band, and under unknown circumstances his group started calling him the historical-cultural title of the ruler of their entire cultural group. I know he’s cool looking, and shoots real good, but at most he’s the equivalent of someone who could be a cult leader but doesn’t want to be. - Meanwhile. Satine. You have issues with her ethical code, and she’s not a cool cause she doesn’t wear the armour. And yet she is the one who *actually ran mandalore*. For 20-ish years, and not only kept it stable but built it up from the ruins of civil war! - Yes yes T-helmet cool and military man competence nice, but that cannot equal taking the ruins of a war torn society and turning it into a mostly peaceful (when terrorism happened it was a big shocking deal, not normalised) urbanised people who eat well, have access to luxury and specialised education (get a offworld Jedi to come lecture) and can ACTUALLY BREATH IN THE ATMOSPHERE RUINED BY ALL THE WARLORDS LIKE JASTER TRYING TO FIGHT THE REPUBLIC TO PROVE THEMSELVES.

Anon: Satine propaganda: she knows what the aftermath of war is like. Jaster knows war from a soldier's perspective, a commander's perspective. But Satine knows it from a noncombatant's perspective. She's seen the aftermath and wreckage it leaves behind. Rebuilding after a war takes far longer and likely costs more than the war itself. I don't think Jaster cares about what happens after the battle. But Satine most certainly does.

@archangelsunited: Efficient and long lasting leader of her faction for years, was able to navigate neutrality with the Republic during the Clone Wars. Excellent Hair pieces.

@publiusmaximum: She allowed her society to experience it's first moment of peace and prosperity in a thousand years. - After she was killed, her society was taken over by fascists and gangsters. In short order Mandalore was razed, made uninhabitable, and her people scattered. - Satine was right about everything.

JASTER MEREEL

Anon: Jaster is the one who should rule Mandalore and all Mandalorians, although he started small he searched to make a new code of conduct for Mandalorian bounty hunters, he tries to keep the culture intact yet keep Mandalore progressive and not stuck in the past and from killing each other.

@spacetime1969: He literally rewrote what it means to be Mandalorian, and he created an entire movement around said philosophy that had a good chance of becoming the controlling party of Mandalore if he hadn't been assassinated. What more do you want?

Anon: Jaster for the win, he's the most recent one who actually knows some shit (as much as I love Din Djarin this poor man doesn't know ANYTHING), besides Jango and Boba but they're both very unstable individuals.

@nerdpickle: Jaster, his philosophy perfectly balanced tradition and reform, keeping the best of both worlds, he was also one of the few people chosen by the people

Mereel is a strong and powerful leader. He defeated the traiter Tor Viszla in battle and even took in a poor, orphaned Concordian child after the battle. No more will Mandalore be forced to consider such petty ideals as peace in order to avoid outright war. Instead, we shall be known throughout the galaxy as the greatest mercenaries the galaxy has ever known. Under his rule, we shall triumph over the foolish savages of planets unconquered and be paid handsomely for it!

Anon: Mereel is a strong and powerful leader. He defeated the traiter Tor Viszla in battle and even took in a poor, orphaned Concordian child after the battle. No more will Mandalore be forced to consider such petty ideals as peace in order to avoid outright war. Instead, we shall be known throughout the galaxy as the greatest mercenaries the galaxy has ever known. Under his rule, we shall triumph over the foolish savages of planets unconquered and be paid handsomely for it!

@archangelsunited: Had a structured document for Mandalorian Culture in the modern (tm) day. He fought with the warriors he sent out and took personal interest in the results of his actions (Jango Fett mentorship). Pissed off Tor Vizla.

@nerdpickle: Satine’s Mandalore was like Switzerland, except without the well trained military, incredibly advantageous terrain, high gun ownership and giant nuclear armed alliance providing a free buffer zone on all sides.

SATINE

@bosooka: Originally here

i wrote way too much for my original draft of this (and it turned into a "fuck jaster mereel" party) so here's an abbreviated version

Why Satine is a Better Ruler Than Jaster in 2 Simple Points

Point #1: Satine actually maintained order on Mandalore for decades

This one is simple. Mereel became Mandalore in ~60BBY and Tor Vizsla tried to overthrow him a mere two years later (and nearly succeeded). He was only in power for six more years before he was betrayed by the very same violent people he allowed to remain by his side because of his belief that a Mandalorian warrior was "merely a highly-paid soldier".

Contrast Satine: ruled from approx. 42BBY until 19BBY, a reign of 23-odd years. For twenty-odd years of her reign New Mandalore was completely peaceful and there were no challengers to her authority among the people or elsewhere. Death Watch only became an issue again when they received Separatist (and ultimately Sith) backing, and Dooku discarded them for being useless. Had Death Watch not allied itself with Maul's Shadow Collective I don't think she would have been overthrown at all.

Point #2: Satine kept Mandalore out of places it didn't belong

As we've established, Mereel had no issues with Mandalorians being mercenaries, used however their clients saw fit. I won't go into the weeds of the ethical implications of mercenaries and why they are illegal under international law on Earth, but in short: letting anyone pay one to kill others is the easiest way to become the cudgel of a fascist. Coincidentally exactly what the Fett clones become when Sidious uses them to exterminate the Jedi. Mereel's "reforms" of the Mandalorian ways did not prevent his troops from getting into a fight they couldn't win against the Jedi on Galidraan (and yes, the Mandalorians shot first:

not that anyone in the fandom remembers this...) after they but an insurrection down on behalf of the corrupt governor of the planet. To be clear, the True Mandos knew that the governor of Galidraan was corrupt and most likely harboring Tor Vizsla, but they still agreed to kill "insurrectionists" for money. Their problems came when Death Watch arranged to make it look like they had also killed women and children. Truly a war between saints and monsters.

Meanwhile Satine: the head of the Council of Neutral Systems, she refused to take sides in a war pushed by the greedy and violent. Yes, she was briefly protected by clones when it comes to light that Death Watch is aligned with the Separatists, but it was immediately followed by the Republic attempting to militarily occupy Mandalore and Satine risking life and limb to keep her people autonomous. Satine refused to become a useful idiot for warmongers, even knowing that it would have been economically advantageous for her to do so. Unlike Jaster Mereel, she has ideals that she values more than credits. He would have accepted an offer from the highest bidder and turned Mandalore into a machine of war for the Sith, just like his Crusader ancestors once did.

Tl;Dr

Satine was actually respected as an authority on Mandalore for literal decades and was only challenged by a miniscule faction of terrorists who had to get foreigners to interfere in their political processes (FML) in order to actually take power from her

Satine kept Mandalore out of conflicts it did not belong in, which largely protected it from military occupation and destruction until the year she died; Mereel made a career out of interfering in the affairs of other planets if they were paid to do so

Unlike Mereel and his successor, Satine had morals to motivate her decisions that were not the pursuit of cold hard cash, including the protection of Mandalorian independence and neutrality

[medicinemane]

I don't know... horrible things happen all around the world and it's not a competition

Atrocities are committed against multiple groups in multiple parts of the world at the exact same moment, and none of them erase each other. They all matter, all the people in this world who are being brutalized matter. There shouldn't be any line you draw where one group doesn't actually matter as much as another

You're welcome to prioritize your energy towards helping one group or another, but what's not ok is invalidating or dismissing people who are actively being harmed

Same goes for trying to figure out which social group has things worst (and lets be honest, always using a US lens)

Like... maybe the important thing is to prop each other up and help everyone get on their own feet rather than trying to... pick fights about if physical disabilities or mental illness are less respected (I'm trying to pick a more absurd example but sadly I've seen exactly that argument happen before). Maybe it doesn't really matter and what matters is helping who we can when we can

I'm tired of it, I'm just fucking tired of it. Support people, champion them when the world is just brutalizing them, but you don't need to throw a single other person under the bus to do that

Which seems to be an absolutely impossible lesson for people to learn

[sigmundthesorcerer]

M would be obsessed with the fact that vault-tec dropped the bombs bc she's a paranoid freak who's been running off a conspiracy theory that america nuked itself as a population control tactic and the rest of the world is doing fine

but the point is that she's supposed to be wrong!!!!!

[actualclownfucker]

i really like the idea of bcsr being suuuuuper pro-muggle. so like, barty would be raised with a muggle and wizarding education (he is a math nerd and you cannot, will not convince me otherwise LOL) and bcsr always had muggle technology, muggle and wizarding books and literature around the house

so bcj read call of cthulhu and said “i am gonna get me some of THAT” he goes to hogwarts and sees the giant squid and he fckin cums

(sometimes i wonder why regulus tolerates him, it’s def for the dick tho)

and yes, i believe voldemort was hot during the first war, at first. it wasn’t until he had all his horcruxes that he started to look “waxy”

but i mean, i am basing it off the opinion of harry and by god. he sees any dark haired man at all and he just goes “smash.” big reason why he didn’t like bcj (apart from his wormface), he’s a blond!

ohhhh, i have a lot of thoughts about bcj humanizing voldemort, actually. i know it would be easy to jump to the conclusion that voldemort didn’t like it, but i actually think he did

(i’d even say he let bcj call him “tom” when they were alone, if bcj could say anything other than daddy”)

i feel like, in a way, voldemort is a lot more human than some people give him credit for

yes, he’s cold and heartless and tried to get rid of his past. but at the same time, he’s sort of… not that cold

he likes jokes, he gets angry, he laughs, he resents his family and has his own surplus amount of daddy issues and all of this makes it easy for me to see the human in him

and i think bcj looking at him, talking to him, like yes he’s he’s the greatest dark wizard of all time and bcj worships him, but he can still just talk to him like a person, would be something voldemort actually loves. he doesn’t need bcj to be scared of him, there’s no point in that

the way to get bcj under his thumb is, oddly enough, with kindness and appreciation of his intellect, which voldemort would be happy to do. he would be thrilled to have intelligent conversation with bcj

it’s that exact right amount of worship and still being able to talk to him that voldemort would make bcj tolerable

barty has always wanted to be someone’s favorite. being voldemort’s bitch, the only one with that title, being preferred over everyone (except maybe snape, wtf voldy, that was stupid) it’s his way of being special

him finding out about what voldemort’s told harry in the graveyard scene could go one of two ways IMO, he was either devastated that someone else mattered to voldemort as much as him, had convinced himself to be delusional enough to believe he’s the only one that mattered

OR because he’s gotten to know voldemort so well, it doesn’t come as a surprise to him at all about harry. he knows how valuable and connected he and voldemort are, it’s okay. because voldemort still needs him too. he wouldn’t kill him like he’s going to kill harry anyways~!

LOL! voldemort would’ve gotten such a kick out of humiliating bcj and i think bcj hates being embarrassed. which is unfortunate being as his entire personality is nothing but embarrassing. when he’s embarrassed, he cries (as usual) and then he’s even more embarrassed for crying about it

(people don’t like when i say this, but if they’re going to characterize the marauders as these “pranksters,” he would’ve made an easy target for them and they’d have laughed at him and all the others in that friend group (pandora, evan, just not regulus because yk, they ignore his presence entirely). i’m not anti-marauders btw obviously, i love them and don’t think they’re much of “pranksters” as much as they are just kids who like to joke around, them planning out these elaborate pranks and stuff, i don’t think that has any basis in canon? correct me if i’m wrong tho)

anyways! yes, bcsr is oddly happy to talk down to barty as well. i can especially see him doing this to sirius when bcj is around or mentioned (i think most of the time, he goes out of his way to pretend barty doesn’t exist). however, i believe bcsr also brags about barty’s intelligence. the reason we know bcj got twelve owls is because when bcsr was outside hogwarts grounds, trying to get to dumbledore, he seems to be convinced that he’s talking to someone in the past saying, “oh, yes, barty got twelve owls and we’re very proud” gives me the impression of a man who doesn’t want people to know what goes on behind closed doors

“my shirt got wet” aww, my baby. someone hit him, quick! not only is it raining but you were already sobbing before that, the shirt was already wet with your fucking tears, idiot!

every few minutes or so, someone has to look at him and be like, “oh my GOD. what is it NOW?!”

post azzie, i think he’s more cold tho. it kinda chills out once he gets daddymort’s attention, but sirius tells us bcj spent his first few days in azkaban screaming for his mother (this is why i think him making a scene in the courtroom wasn’t an act, because what’s the point of keeping up the act for the dementors and other prisoners?) and then he went completely silent. and i don’t think he was ever the same after that

honestly, in a way, sirius has good reason for not wanting to open up to anyone - even james. deep down, he knows what bcsr does to him is wrong, but on the surface level, he won’t admit it. and he knows james is going to say all the things that he knows deep down to tell him that bcsr is wrong and the idea of him actually starting to admit to himself is terrifying so he lashes out. it’s all he knows.

it hurts james, james takes it to his parents and i wonder if sirius would almost even see that as a breach of their trust? like, “well that’s the last time i tell you anything, james” if he’s just going to tell other people. even if those people are his parents. sirius being uncomfortable with the potters and feeling like a burden there is such an important thing to me. he doesn’t want to make his problems, their problems, he wants to stay out of their way and not cause them any issues or make them regret taking him in

ouch, you’re so right. attacking bcsr = attacking sirius, calling him stupid and it’s trying to make decisions for him. he’s perfectly capable of deciding things for himself, he’s perfectly capable of being on control of himself and he doesn’t NOT need james to control him and tell him what to do.

needing people is terrifying for him, but i think the least terrifying one for him to need is bcsr. because, in sirius’s head, bcsr will tell him when he’s wrong and he’ll correct his behaviors. james, the potters, they’re too nice about it, that’s not what he needs. he feels so much more validated by bcsr and i definitely do think he could misread the potter’s concern as pity

but then, bcsr insulting james back to him, sirius feels like he’s in the crossfire of people who are supposed to care about him, but suddenly, it seems like no one does and he feels more alone than ever

but sirius feeling guilty is exactly what bcsr wanted. i like the idea of it ending abruptly too, like bcsr sends sirius a letter saying he’s disappointed in him and expected sirius to do better, maybe even tells sirius how much he’s missed him lately, sirius writes back and bcsr just doesn’t respond. sirius should’ve made more of an effort with him

i think bcsr definitely took sirius to some educational things. museums, exhibits and (idk about timeline or if there was anything like this: but i think parents taking their smart kids to watch a rocket launch is fun) things like this, to both teach sirius about art and history, but also to hear what sirius thinks of it, because even as a child he was very, very bright. not unlike his own son, who would’ve been desperate to learn from his father and desperately begged to ask his dad if he’d take him to an exhibit nearby one day, bcsr said “no, i’m busy, stay at home with your mother”

wouldn’t even allow mrs crouch to take bcj, because he didn’t earn it. so mrs crouch stays at home with bcj to look at books on whatever it was about. bcsr shows up early from work, bcj thinks maybe he changed his mind and is going to take him after all?! haha, you thought, kid.

sirius honestly probably looks at bcj and just thinks, well, he can go another time. who cares anyways?? i love a chill sirius

mrs crouch and her husband scream at each other that night (which also makes bcj cry, what doesn’t tho?)

i think bcj is similar at school to sirius how he is at home, just more calm. he doesn’t follow him around, and bcj is a few years under him, but whenever they’re in the great hall or the library together, sirius can feel barty’s eyes on him. can feel himself being stared at and he knows exactly who it is.

bcj might take to trying to trip sirius in halls and other things like this, but sirius just evades it and looks at him like “ok dude. you tried again. you done yet?”

the crouches making the blacks seem normal is WILD. but yeah, like, walburga would never grab sirius by the hair and repeatedly smash his face into the table. honestly, bcj probably only shuts up because he passes out or gets a concussion LOL

i think walburga isn’t against physical punishment at all, but maybe she wouldn’t do it the “muggle” way, you feel me? i could see her not wanting to scar him too, because she wouldn’t want a tainted heir (bruising however? she’s just fine with that). i think it happens mostly too because she and sirius get into fights and she gets so frustrated with him that she casts a spell without even thinking about it. and well, it works. she wins and he shuts up (you can’t tell me mrs black likes to lose) and there’s no guilt in her at all about it. she doesn’t apologize, which is why bcsr saying “i’m sorry for hitting you sirius” is so okay to him. plus, what’s being hit versus being crucio’d?

bcj said mama/mommy and daddy until he took the dark mark. so at least until he was 16, maybe even a little after that. but then he got pompous and switched to “mother” and “father” maybe still mama sometimes when he was alone with her tho (let me have this)

love!! sirius getting triggered by bcsr telling mrs crouch not heal bcj because walburga does the same thing? how bad are we talking? like he has a panic attack bad? because mmmm bcsr seeing sirius having a panic attack is a delicious thought

and another thought i’ve always liked, i don’t know what this does to bcj’s pureblood status, but squib mrs crouch is such an interesting concept to me. she can still give bcj potions to heal him, but can’t perform any healing spells. can’t pull her son out of spells bcsr puts him under, cant help him and even more so can’t stop bcsr

oh, no. bcsr hates bcj trying to emulate sirius. which doesn’t make sense, because doesn’t bcsr always say “be more like sirius” to him??? he’s trying! he wants to be him, be in his skin, have his dick in sirius’s ass too! what he really hates is the way bcj is going about it. wearing his clothes, taking on his hobbies, maybe even his speech pattern, rather than being quiet and obedient (and pretty) like sirius is

ooooooo!!! i really like him doing that and pretending he is sirius to cry out for daddy instead. because his obsession with sirius does stem from jealousy, i think that makes perfect sense

and tbh, sirius probably does smell good, so who can even blame bcj?

do you think sirius would stop coming over if bcj drugged and raped him?? i don’t think he’d tell bcsr that it happened, because he doesn’t necessarily want to get bcj in trouble, even after he did something so horrible

but bcj would love sirius having a love potion omg! having sirius fawn over him like that would be everything to him

and this would be easily noticeable to bcsr, obviously, because sirius isn’t being himself and the obvious person to blame is bcj. he demands winky to tell him if she knows anything, she does and admits to doing it, winky gets beat, winky doesn’t follow bcj’s orders anymore. sirius just further slips in as his son to replace bcj

harry and sirius are really similar for that, actually, yeah!!

i think it’s so hard for sirius to come to terms with bcsr being awful, so not only does he justify the abuse being done to him, but he tries to justify the way bcsr treats bcj too. i would say mrs crouch as well, but i believe whenever bcj isn’t the topic of conversation and nothing is going on with him, they’re alright. bcsr still does romantic things for her, still tells her he loves her at night, even feels bad when they fight (tho does not change his behavior or feel bad for bcj, just feels bad later that he made his wife upset) and wants to take her on romantic evenings. which she accepts because fuck. at least it’s giving bcj a night away from him and then they end up having a wonderful time because bcj doesn’t come up

do you think lily would tell sirius he’s not “broken” or would she be more the type to say, “we’re both broken” in more of a solidarity type of thing??? because she believes she is too??

“he went to stay with a friend” meanwhile sirius knows bcj’s only actual friend is regulus and he’s pretty sure bcj isn’t at their house.

but yeah, we know bcsr isn’t above using the imperius curse on his son and i think it makes sense to lean into him doing things like that a little more. anytime mrs crouch is away, bcj is nothing more than a shell of a person.

when sirius is over, he’s locked in his bedroom with protections to make sure he can’t get out or make a sound, under the imperius, or just stunned. i think stunning is the best option, because i’m amazed bcsr could keep bcj under the imperius curse as long as he did in GoF and still do his job, you know? like, i have to think that made it a bit easier for bcj to break out of it (not that seeing his master wouldn’t have done it regardless, bc the hard-on in his pants seeing daddymort again would break any spell) and bcsr would want to be focused on sirius the entire time when he’s over, so stunning seems like the perfect option.

what this does to bcj tho is mean that his mind is still running, he still sees everything, all of his screaming and crying is kept entirely in his head, all the energy in his body is overwhelming and he probably feels like he’s choking the entire time, but not even winky notices that when he visits him. because he’s just sitting there in a chair, stunned

sirius would be so genuinely confused why bcj would do that, when sirius literally just got him off the hook and now, bcj about to get punished anyways (bcsr tells sirius to leave the room as he takes off his belt, bcj knows daddy isn’t about to fuck him, but he’s hopeful. no, instead he gets whacked with the belt. and those bitches hurt)

(why go for the best friend’s brother trope when regulus can just have his brother instead, right???) i love blackcest best when regulus is the seductor. when he maybe even manipulates sirius into it a bit. i feel like it’s too easy to have sirius be the creepy “older” brother that wants to fuck his sibling. plus, i think regulus would. he’s got no concept or ideas of boundaries and he doesn’t care to

my favorite thing in blackcest (whoops outing myself here) is regulus not knowing how to get off and asking sirius for help. and sirius is like “??? bro what…. uh, okay, here’s what you do” and gives him instructions not expecting regulus to just start doing it right in sirius’s bedroom, right in front of him???? regulus complains that it’s not working and asks sirius to show him and even tho sirius knows better… he does

ooo, that’s a good point!! sirius is perfectly content to just say “barty” when he and bcj are sleeping together and bcj is fucking him. and bcj likes it too, bc he can convince himself that sirius is saying it for him

(and again, by the end of it, bcj is chanting “i love you, i love you, i love you” which is what makes sirius cum bc the idea of bcsr fucking him and saying ily?? beautiful!!)

and honestly when bcj does want to get railed, he probably just goes to some shady place with a sign that says “i’m underage, please rape me”

i really just can’t help thinking about how much bcsr being attracted to sirius and sirius literally just looking for parental figure would fuck him up for life. he could so easily start believing that sex and his looks are all anyone wants from him? he knows that the potters don’t seem like some kind of freak family that would do that to him, there’s no way james would talk about them the way he does if so, right? but fleamont asks to talk to sirius alone in his office one day and sirius just Knows™️ that, that’s it. that they’re all the same and he’s never going to have anyone to love him if he doesn’t put out

and it would make sirius feel so sick everytime he lets bcsr touch him, everytime he hears bcsr whispering in his ear how good he’s being and he catches barty’s eyes from the crack in the door, where he’s just watching silently. bcj definitely wants to go inside, scream at them and demand his father fuck him instead, but he’s too entranced by actually seeing his dad that way to do it. (and he’s gotta have fodder to touch himself to later, right?)

ohhh, what does bcj think of to conjure a patronus?? he just has so many happy memories, there’s so much to choose from! after the dark mark, it’s definitely that, but before that, boy!! he’ll just think of something happy and different each time (of course, every single memory includes himself in pain)

i do think regulus would despise being called any name in bed other than his own, because he wants to be important and powerful in some regard, wants to be remembered as himself, he would not tolerate that. but bcj would be like “ok do u wanna call me sirius then?” and that might be okay with regulus

bcsr watching sirius grow into himself and deciding their relationship has to go from parental to sexual is so, so sad for sirius, he trusted bcsr so much.

yep!! and this reminds me… sirius’s replacement is obviously percy, who is PERFECT. for bcsr

i think sirius would love learning history and languages from mr crouch too, bc i mean!! that’s so many!! very much gives me pushes-his-son-to-achieve academic excellence as well, overachieving and not settling for anything below perfection

omg yes!!! bcsr giving sirius muggle things is so perfect. he doesn’t know anything much about motorcycles, but he went out of his way to find that for sirius, knowing sirius would be interested???? fuuuuuuckkkk.

also,,, MRS CROUCH, WHAT IS HAPPENING IN YOUR HOME?! THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE!!! i don’t even think she knows half of it!!!

do you mean barty crouch sr by bcsr??? because omg plz tell me what you think about sirius’s relationship w him, i find the crouches so interesting, i would love to hear about that

YESS i LOVE you !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i dont actually know how much of what i imagine for them can be fit into canon/is canon but like sglkfd.

so barty jr and sirius probably met during their childhood i think, bcjr was intelligent and well mannered and a respectable kid in sirius' age range, and ofc there's the hc that he was close friends w regulus, too. i hc he was pretty distant w bcjr himself but i just knoww sirius 'daddy issues' black needed everyone's parents' approval. orion was a negligent asshole sawr i think its a pretty valid course of action yk

and ofc bcsr loved him !! he was intelligent, he was quick, he was charming, well mannered, all the shit he wishes his bastard of a son was. and barty sr is a bit manipulative too yk he would definitely try to steal sirius away from his family and friends because he knows what sirius needs.

and like !! bcsr. he knows his son is death eater, he does use sirius as a replacement. he doesnt hide it, either, which he thinks justifies using a very obviously traumatized young boy to forget about the guilt in his heart about abusing, traumatizing and neglecting his own son. that being said, he gives sirius the watered down version of abuse his parents do - which sirius has grown comfortable enough with. that being said, the main reason sirius ran away isnt there: he's not a supporter of voldemort. he's actively fighting against him. (also hehe i hc walburga as bipolar so sirius is just happy he doesnt have a timebomb in the house 24/7) (or at least the timebomb doesnt explode around him !!). bcsr still mentions who sirius should associate himself with, still is disappointed when he doesnt get a good grade (an E instead of an O), he yells at sirius, maybe he raises a hand at him too - but at the end of the day sirius finds him justified because he's the one who took sirius under his wing, and is helping him, and is nice to him, and this is really what parents do to their children, right?

here is also when the post comes in btw: bcsr feels entitled to sirius' life, his idea of a parent/child relationship is ownership, and unfortunately that's sirius' view of it too, but bcsr is a lot calmer and quieter than walburga, he cares more than orion - to sirius its really the best of both worlds. bcsr wants sirius to go in politics which sirius does not want because he already has whatever career he's chosen for himself, and bcsr feels it necessary that sirius follow his - his own son wont.

bcsr does need sirius, he confides in him, he loves him (in his own fucked up way). sirius moves on, he runs away and gets farther and farther away from everything that reminds him of Before and feels resentment that bcsr (a man who he's considered his strongest father figure for years) doesn't even reach out to him once. bcsr feels that its a child's responsibility to reach out every time - he feels betrayed that sirius didn't runaway to him, that he didnt even know sirius had runaway till someone told him in passing. the letters they exchanged come to an abrupt end and it just feels like everything ended in the middle of it yk. barty crouch sr doesnt see sirius till sirius is arrested, soon after his own bio son is x

(also, yes sirius does still have the potters, but the potters are a completely different world to him. he's not used to that kind of completely unconditional love, he's not used to seeing how they shower their heir son in love. its a little bittersweet, it feels like a fantasy, sirius feels like he's intruding, he fills resentment to james for being raised with parents who love him and ofc he doesnt want that so he finds solace elsewhere. he thinks the potters are angels on earth, his relationship with bcsr is what the normal parent/child relationship. if walburga and orion are a 10 on the scale of what sirius considers to be 'bad parents', euphemia and fleamont are in the negative. bcsr falls somewhere in the middle, like a 2 or 3 to sirius. to bcjr, sirius can recognize, that bcsr is horrible. he yells, may hit, he's permanently disappointed when they do interact. they barely ever do - bcsr is always busy, he makes special time for sirius (which makes sirius giddy bc wowzers am i that important?) which cuts out even more time from bcsr and bcjr to interact. also, bcsr calls sirius son and he doesnt call bcjr son. sirius is lowk a homewrecker i love him.).

[kavehater]

I agree with absolutely everything she said his in game model is not as good as I envision him to be 😭 like fanart carries him FRRR but it’s honestly so sad ppl see the coolest ever character and be like yaoi 😋✌️how about NOOOO !!!! 😭😭😭 gosh this is so !!!! He has so many deep important aspects to himself, he’s so full of contradictions and despite it all he’s still one of the most kindest characters

[genderqueerdykes]

i love when intersex people try to talk about our issues people try to hit us with a "that doesn't count, that would be like 0.01% of the population you're talking about," ahh response, which I have personally received several times at this point.

everyone loves to be confident to pull some bullshit statistic out of their ass to be dismissive, but it's funny because they never do a second of research. the United Nations Human Rights Office estimates 1.7% of the population are born intersex:

even if the numbers were any lower, it would still be worth talking about intersex issues. any amount of people with these experiences are worth representing and discussing. we should not have to be invisible because our conditions are so stigmatized that many of us receive "Corrective" procedures just after birth, during childhood, or puberty. so many of us are swept under the rug, that's part of the reason why the statistics vary depending on which area is reporting the statistics.

you can't weaponize how marginalized someone is against them. if we fight for people with the most specific gender identities that can't be easily explained in one or two words, we must include intersex people. if we include people who use unique pronouns not seen in current common vernacular, we must support intersex people. if we support other queer minorities, we must support intersex people.

it's not an option. you can act like we are a statistic on a page, a number you can't possibly fathom in your mind, but we are all around you. everywhere. existing in real time. we are not fossils. we are not extinct.

you don't have the pleasure of ignoring us anymore. intersex rights are human rights, and sometimes, they're queer rights, too.

[mikkeneko]

In various places -- here, the bird app, even YouTube comments -- I keep running into people with some variation of the same question:

"Does Scum Villain have a teacher/student romance?" And every time I want to answer with: No, But Also Yes, But Also Not Really, It's Complicated (And That's On Purpose.)

Which is an answer that's too long to fit in a tweet or a YT comment, but fortunately tumblr has no (effective) post limit! So here I go.

1 - No

In the very straight forward porn cliche sense of "oh but professor, I really ~need~ to pass this class or my life will be ruined, can't I do ~anything~ to get you to change my grade?" *bats lashes* and "Hoho, my pretty young teen student, I've got your good grade right here in my pants, if you ~apply~ yourself..." then no.

No sex or romance between a teacher and their student in the bounds of a teacher-student relationship happens in this book. No deliberate grooming of an underage student on the part of a teacher occurs in this book. No sex or a romance between an adult character and an underage character occurs in this book, nor is the adult 'waiting' for the minor to reach adulthood to initiate one.

2 - But Also Yes

No sex or romance between a teacher and their student in the bounds of that relationship happens in this book. Two people who were formerly in a teacher and student relationship do enter into a sexual and romantic relationship by the end of the book. Also the nature of the society they're in further means that even though they are no longer in the schooling environment, it is socially assumed that the deference owed by a student to their teacher lasts forever, even after the student leaves that environment, and they continue to regard themselves and refer to themselves in those roles even though the teacher no longer strictly speaking has authority over the student.

Also, the student was really hot for his teacher even when he was still a student. (The teacher was oblivious to this fact.)

3 - But Also Not Really

By the time sex and romance is even on the horizon for these characters, their relationship has so drastically changed from that of a "teacher and student" that it is barely recognizeable as such. The power/authority dynamic between a teacher and their student is subsumed pretty much entirely by the facts that:

A. The 'student' has become a medeival fantasy warlord of such unsurpassable magic and might that literally no other person in this world can stand up against him, 'teacher' included, and the 'teacher' is well aware of that.

B. Also, the 'student' is metaphysically endowed (heh) with the Protagonist Halo, a literally active force within the setting they're part of, which means that not only can he not be defeated, he ontologically cannot be denied anything that he desires; what he wants, he gets, and what he doesn't want, cannot be forced on him.

C. ...But also, the teacher in this setting is a metaphysical outsider to the world order the student is part of, which means that he is aware of all of the above, and can and does manipulate it to suit his own agenda, which may or may not align with giving the student what he wants at any point in time. Assuming that the teacher has the correct understanding of what the student wants. (He doesn't.)

D. ........But also also, for all his power, one harsh word from him can destroy him. For all his knowledge, one tear can devastate him. (Which one? Both.)

4 - It's Complicated (On Purpose)

*throws the chalk against the wall*

Between a teacher and their student, who has the power? Between an emperor and a scholar, who has the power? Between a hero and the villain he is predestined to destroy, who has the power? Between a character and the reader who's read ahead to the end of the story, who has the power? Do we find some of these power imbalances more acceptable than others? And if so, why do we?

Trying to track Who Has The Power or Who Has An Unfair Advantage socially, physically, and metaphysically between this particular pair of characters is damn near impossible and that's on purpose.

The Scum Villain's Self Saving System is a lot of things, but one thing that absolutely defines it is that it is a parody. It's a parody and a deconstruction of a lot of things -- the 'stallion' genre, the 'isekai' genre, the 'pay-per-chapter webnovel' genre, the 'gay drama' genre and, most relevant to this conversation, it is a deconstruction of teacher-student romance.

What kind of a teacher-student romance has a clueless, fish-out-of water NEET in the role of the Wise Old Mentor? What kind of a teacher-student romance has a black-hearted, demonic, domineering feudal warlord in the role of the Blushing Virginal Student? What kind of a teacher-student romance has the two principals so close in age -- by the end of the book, they may be as little as a year apart -- that they're more like peers than teacher and student? What kind of audience are we, going into a story like this one and finding ourselves cheering for the teacher to fall in love and lust with his student, only to be disappointed when that doesn't happen because the teacher fails for three books straight to recognize love and lust when it's literally looking him in the face and crying?

Asking "does Scum Villain have a teacher-student romance?" is sort of like asking "does Galaxy Quest have a lot of high science fiction concepts?" No, but also yes, but also not really. It's complicated, and that's on purpose.

[simpjaes]

CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)

Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings

WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k

PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)

CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it

OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader

NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.

“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.

Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip. 

“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”

You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.

“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list. 

“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.

It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.

“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”

“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright  smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.

“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”

He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.

“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”

You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.

“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not. 

“How else are you gonna experience it?” 

You stare him down harder.

“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”

He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it. 

“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”

Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?

“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.

“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.

Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline– 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”

You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.

“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”

“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment. 

“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.” 

Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.

Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.

You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it. 

After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?

When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone. 

“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”

“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”

He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts. 

“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”

You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.

“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”

He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head. 

“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.

For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable.  You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous. 

It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.

“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”

You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees. 

“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass. 

“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks. 

“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”

He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole. 

“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.

“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.

When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it. 

“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”

You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.

He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit. 

He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.

“This okay?”

Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay. 

More than okay. 

You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth. 

“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”

You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.

“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath. 

He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again. 

His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down. 

He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.

Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him. 

That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you. 

To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.

He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care. 

Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!

Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?

The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you. 

God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck. 

He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him. 

Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either. 

The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it. 

He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach. 

You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.

His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.

He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice. 

Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.

It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.

“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter. 

He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it. 

If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder. 

You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them. 

He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that. 

There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.

You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath. 

“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”

You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god. 

“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.

For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience. 

“It was definitely what I needed.” 

He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you. 

“Let’s go clean up.” 

You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you. 

“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”

You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has. 

“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon. 

You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?

After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow. 

“Hey, um–”

“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.

You smile.

“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.

“I won't.”

Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.

・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・

“Hey, um,”

“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” 

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 

You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 

Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 

So, texting Sunghoon? Easy. 

Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours. 

You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 

God, if only Jake would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 

You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers. 

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if. 

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 

And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 

Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left. 

“What?” Jake responds in confusion  to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 

“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 

Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.” 

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!” 

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 

You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 

“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 

Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 

“Yeah, but–”  Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon? 

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 

Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option. 

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 

You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 

To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 

“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”

“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 

The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 

“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 

Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 

“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 

“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 

“And this is you.” You confirm. 

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 

You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 

“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?” 

You laugh. 

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 

“Get better jokes, asshole.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most. 

“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 

“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 

Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity. 

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 

“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 

Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 

Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 

Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live. 

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 

What if he doesn’t show up at all? 

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.” 

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. 

“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back.  “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant? 

He really wants to do this the right way?

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 

“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 

“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 

Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” 

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 

“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake. 

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 

For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 

Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait. 

“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. 

“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 

It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it. 

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 

Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you. 

He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast. 

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble. 

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got. 

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you. 

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–” 

And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh. 

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants. 

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 

You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 

“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment. 

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 

“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 

“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. 

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 

“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head. 

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel. 

“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does. 

And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you. 

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm. 

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles. 

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you. 

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side. 

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?” 

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 

“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.

“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 

“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust. 

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 

Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it.