#interaction: making dough | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heegyukeluv · 7 months ago

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complementary - the physics of your body [part 1] (sjy)

pairing: brother's best friend!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: The thermodynamics of your bodies together, the sound wave of your moans, the gravity that pulled you towards each other. You were a perfect combination, the right equilibrium, complementary.

my's note: i had to break this work into two parts due to the size of it, i'm so sorry. i'll post the part 2 in a few days! my longest (and dirtiest) work lol. i used some physics concepts but funny thing hah i know nothing about physics SO PLEASE don't think too much into it... also don't know if i'd commit this much with a fic if wasn't for ari freaking out whenever I teased to add something new so please everyone say thank you ari! <3 on a side note: this is especially for her. i love you, ari 💞

warnings: mention of trauma from parents, jay is y/n’s older brother, jake is jay's best friend and three years older than the reader, physics stuff lol, reader blushing/turning red!, drama/arguments, fluff, angst a little (with happy ending!!), pet names (babe, doll, good girl...) SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (m.), choking, jk cum inside, gag, overstimulation (m.). lmk if i missed something!

wc: 27k.

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers

“I know that delaying it seemed the right thing to do at the time, but I don’t think you can run away from physics anymore, kiddo.”

As your eyes rolled, annoyed with the nickname, you smacked the pizza dough into the cold marble, kneading it to make it perfectly soft. The inner core of your stomach tightened with the reminder, bringing a bitter taste on the back of your throat that made you gulp.

“I’m literally in my second year in college and you’re still calling me that.”

Your muttered words elicited an immediate laugh from Jay, your big brother, who had his body resting on the door frame while watching you across the kitchen, panicking over the fact that you would finally have to deal with your biggest fear in school, by choosing to randomly make pizza at 4pm on a thursday.

‘It helps me to destress,’ you explained once. ‘To smack something that’s not someone’s face.’

“You’d always be my kiddo,” he answered back fondly, yet with a hint of mocking, as he moved to sit at the kitchen peninsula chair.

Jay never really raised a question over your decisions and behaviors, applauding and supporting you every time while shooting loving eyes towards you whenever you were around doing your silly little things; just like now, as he followed your movements, a bit concerned with your deep frown and how quickly your hands worked on the dough, but nearby just in case you needed some help.

Over the years, the two of you shared a strong, healthy bond, especially within the walls of the house you grew up in.

Having wealthy parents came with its perks and its drawbacks, but for you, the drawbacks often outweighed the rest. Pursuing a dream that didn’t align with your dad’s expectations felt almost like a betrayal of your family’s values, as if you were intentionally choosing to disappoint them by turning away from the prospect of becoming a doctor, lawyer, or even a future CEO of the family company.

Some would say you were crazy for challenging yourself into a rougher path, giving away the possibilities of a stable life to pursue your real dreams. However, it didn’t sound right for you to live a life without your wills being the main worry of it, forcing yourself to fit a model instead of creating your own.

Amidst the chaos you grew up in, Jay was always there to hold you close and feel proud with your achievements, protecting and looking after you.

He would drive you to your classes every morning when he started high school and you were still finishing middle school, buy you expensive gifts, and take you to fancy restaurants for your birthday. He always had his bedroom’s door unlocked for you to come when you felt like crying in the middle of the night because of something shitty your parents screamed at you. He never minded skipping work or classes if it meant staying home to take care of you when you were sick. And he had no issue scaring away any guy who, in his eyes, never seemed to be worthy enough of you.

You couldn’t help but laugh whenever his protective tactics worked, knowing that, deep down, your brother was just a big softie, never ever daring to kill an insect and crying over romantic movies.

Moving in with him always sounded right, it was part of your big plans; finish school, get into college and share an apartment with your brother, who would be just wrapping up his own studies.

Jay offered you the reliability you needed.

He was three years older than you, now working as a CEO in one of your family’s company subsidiaries after finishing administration school, and tried his best to give you everything you wanted and needed to live a good, comfortable life at least until you achieved your goal and stability by yourself, not wanting for your to do side jobs and focus only on studying.

Jay never cared much about doing it for him, choosing to pamper you to the brim without asking for anything back, even though you unconsciously paid with your happiness.

Due to your tough relationship with your parents, you never really took it for granted, working hard to keep yourself steady enough to live alone if you need to – Jay, on the other hand, would move mountains for that never to happen.

Jay fought for his place in the world with a little less struggle than you, and he blamed himself for it to some extent.

Your parents beamed with joy when he announced he would be studying business administration; you still remember that night of celebration, with your father practically glowing with happiness – the kind of happiness you knew you would never be able to give him, since you wanted to follow the artistic path of the spectrum.

Eventually, with your decision’s outcome, Jay made it his mission to take care of both of you, because he understood that life had been unfair to you. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t want to follow the pattern they had set out for you based only on their expectations. You didn’t deserve to hear the hurtful words your parents threw at you, expressing their disappointment and sadness over who you had become.

Jay, however, admired the incredible woman you had turned into, in awe of your strength to keep fighting for your dreams, and he worked tirelessly to ensure you were safe, sound, and happy.

Now, you were in your second year in college, studying fine arts with Jay’s unwavering financial support; he offered you a comfortable place to live, covered your tuition and fees, food, clothes, and even your materials and books without bothering to ask for anything back in return.

The only thing he wanted was for you to concentrate on your studies and be happy.

And focus you did, although you had postponed as much as you could to finish a part of the core curriculum.

After everything you had been through, you could honestly say that physics was your biggest – and most frustrating – enemy.

You hated physics with passion, never understanding why the fuck you had to study it.

The speed of the light? Why bother? You would never use it to measure anything in your everyday life anyway. And gravity? Yeah, you knew it kept you grounded on Earth, but it sure didn’t help you keep your steps steady. You were constantly tripping over your own feet.

It just never made sense to you. It only made you want to scream in frustration, tearing at your hair with every weird equation and choice of words to explain annoying, bullshit stuff.

“I just hate physics,” you groaned, breath heavy as your anger increased; a few strands of hair fell messily across your face, making the whole situation worse. “I hate it,” you muttered, punching the dough harder. Jay laughed. “Hate it, hate it, hate it!” You repeated, each word punctuated by another angry smack against the poor pizza dough.

Jay, trying to hide his grin, shook his head. "I don’t think the pizza dough has anything to do with your physics situation," he teased.

As much as he loved you, he was your brother and would always find a way to taunt your nerves before really offering a helping hand.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you fluttered your eyes close and threw your head back. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, a mix of irritation and helplessness washing over you working as a perfect mix to send you to the edge of losing control, and you wondered why you got so triggered over such a trivial thing.

Then, it clicked. Of course, trauma from your parents.

You had always pushed yourself over the limit to be better, to get the highest grades and do your absolute best in school, only to feel frustrated when you couldn’t achieve perfection.

In your parents’ eyes, you would never be good enough no matter how many perfect scores you aced on exams and assignments.

In college, despite moving out of their house and ending contact almost entirely, you still held yourself to the same impossible standards, sometimes even worse.

Confronting a subject where you knew you couldn’t be the best felt like a trigger, a reminder of everything you had been told over the years.

Useless. Incapable. Insufficient.

You automatically remembered last night, when you sat at your desk, eyes wandering over the physics textbooks sprawled open on the surface, words coming in a blur. You couldn’t pinpoint when exactly it was due to your incapacity to understand them or to your tears that flowed easily after some minutes sitting in trance.

The weight was almost suffocating and you called it a day when your hands started to tremble and your body ached for rest, feeling extra tired just by… staring.

You rested your hips on the cold marble, blinking your eyelids open to glance at your brother. He had now a softened expression, calm and fond, hands comfortably placed on the countertop.

“I think I’m just oversensitive,” you said, voice barely above a whisper as your hands now played with the dough absentmindedly, eyes slowly lowering to watch how your fingers disappeared into the soft white mixture. “Y’know, our parents they…” You trailed off, not really wanting to verbalize your thoughts.

“Yeah,” Jay nodded, sighing. The knot in his heart tightened seeing you so pouty, understanding from how deep and particular your frustration came. “Listen, I know you hate it, but you have to at least do the minimum to pass. You don’t have to ace it all.” Jay spoke while standing up to wrap around the counter and stand by your side, his body resting on the counter as well.

You leaned into the touch when he caressed your hair, your whole body shifting to a less tense figure.

Jay tilted his head forward enough to search for your sad, puppy eyes. Suddenly, an insight crossed his mind and his lips curved into a smile.

“I have a friend,” he said and you finally glanced at him. The unexpected mention of his friend and how he sounded like having a great idea sparking your curiosity. “I think he’d love to help you.”

“So, I invited the guys over,” Jay said while placing some beers on the minifridge near the entrance of your shared living room. You were standing up awkwardly in the middle of the room, eyes following Jay’s excited figure as he organized the house to welcome his friends. “And while me, Heeseung and Sunghoon do something fun, you and Jake can do the boring stuff.”

Jay had a plan, a solid one. And in any other circumstance you wouldn’t be so nervous about it.

It was just another regular Friday. It was also routine for you to go out with your friends to some bar, club, or even have a girls' night at someone's house, while Jay would head to the house his friends shared.

Jay always used the excuse that he would rather keep the house free for you or not bother you, especially on those nights when you would choose to stay home to relax or study, though part of you suspected that sometimes he was actually heading to a girl's house and just didn’t want to tell you.

Either way, today felt different.

It all started with him inviting the guys over to his place instead of the other way around, followed by a surprisingly sweet request for you to stay in and not go anywhere.

Soon after, he revealed his plan: he, Sunghoon, and Heeseung would play video games in the living room while you and Jake studied physics in some other corner of the house. He promised they would keep the noise down so as not to disturb you.

As said before, in any other situation you wouldn’t be reacting the way you were; hands sweating, heart pumping loudly in your eardrums, head spinning. But in other situations there was no Jake in the equation.

Sim fucking Jaeyun, also known as Jake, was one of Jay’s closest friends, acting as much as siblings as you two.

They met in school and hadn't left each other’s side ever since, sharing hundreds of stories together, with a bunch of adventures and countless funny moments. You closely watched them grow up and accomplish things side by side, constantly attending Jake's birthday parties and other of his family’s events, even participating vividly on some of the “boy’s night” in your house where you crushed them in the video games they choose to play, always eliciting surprised sounds from Jake followed by compliments excitedly said, that, at some point, started to make you feel things.

When Jay moved out to start college, you were left alone at the house that aimed to destroy your dreams and, indirectly, you, having to deal with a lot on your own, constantly hearing the harsh words from your parents and having to lower your head without the courage to fight back, because Jay wasn’t there to defend you anymore.

Jay’s routine became heavy, as he landed an internship early during his second year that consumed most of his time, barely having minutes to talk to you over the phone, moments where you opted to listen to his news and college life instead of filling him with your teenager suffering bullshit.

On the other hand, Jake, who was also in college, had way more free time. Whenever he went back to visit his own parents, he would set a time to take you out on weekends, helping you clear your head by treating you with some ice cream and any other snacks you wanted while listening to your concerns.

You grew really close to Jake during your high school years, noticing the genuine attention he gave you. Jake would always be close to you as a protective older brother, someone who looked out for you and took good care of you, a very trustworthy and sincere friend.

And yet, you always, always felt guilty for letting your feelings for him go beyond “just friends.”

Jake was the same age as Jay – three years older than you, three years more experienced, three years more everything. He was, now, a man. A very attractive, hot, appealing man.

You had the chance to watch Jake grow up right before your eyes, transforming from a good-looking teenager into a charming young man. He had an irresistible smile, warm brown eyes that radiated kindness and sweetness, and a genuine aura that permeated his personality – always wanting to help others in the most caring way possible.

He was friendly, easygoing, sociable, and intelligent.

And when you saw him blossom, it was impossible not to feel completely captivated.

You vividly remember the time your brother posted a photo with his friends at the beach, and there was Jake, shirtless, showing off his toned, slightly sun-kissed body to the world. At that time you were already in your first year of college, while he was finishing up his own studies deep into the engineer life he chose to live.

Your relationship had cooled off a bit, as his academic demands increased and his visits became less frequent, until you eventually moved in with your brother. You assumed you would see Jake more often, but, for reasons unknown, Jay rarely invited his friends over to visit and Jake never really reached out for you.

It became awkward.

You attended parties with your brother and met Sunghoon and Heeseung, Jay’s college friends, that created a unique bond despite having known each other for less time. The four of them became as close as family, and Jay made sure his friends knew you in order to keep you safe when he wasn’t around, constantly allowing them to pick you up on your way back home due to some unexpected schedule that kept him from doing it himself, for instance.

Jake, however, became distant. He would always have excuses not to do any of that and whenever you saw him at parties, he would at most give you a forced smile and a slight, polite nod, quickly diverting his path and avoiding you for the rest of the night.

It was painful in a way, especially since now that you were grown you realized your chances with him might actually be within reach.

As a teenager, your crush was as subtle as possible, aware that neither Jake nor Jay would ever approve of any kind of relationship between the two of you, so you never truly considered anything happening.

But now you had become a woman. And a relatively attractive one, if you did say so yourself. So, just as physics had never made sense to you, Jake’s reaction to your presence had become just as baffling, until eventually you buried your feelings completely and moved on.

At least, that’s what you thought – until Jay came up with this wild idea of having Jake as your physics tutor.

You gulped down your nervousness for the probably ninetieth time, now intensified by the bell ringing. Jay was in the bathroom and shouted for you to open the front door, saying it was the guys that had arrived.

As you made your way towards the entrance, your legs felt wobbly and your heart was racing fast as you clutched the door’s knob. You took a deep breath, silently counting to ten before finally turning the handle.

“Y/N!” Heeseung was the first to greet you with his usual bright smile, wrapping you immediately with his long arms in a tight hug, not minding that he carried some bags with his hands or that they clashed against your back. His blonde hair was perfectly parted, giving a very enticing aura to his already charming presence.

You smiled in response, warmed by his sweet embrace. By his side stood Sunghoon, his dark hair and thick brows framing his pale face perfectly. His cheeks rounded up as he gave you a shy, endearing smile before pulling you into his own hug.

“Missed you,” he muttered softly against your hair and you chuckled, squeezing him just a bit tighter before stepping back.

“You guys never come to see me, so I don’t know who’s really missing who here,” you shot back with a teasing grin, pretending to pout as you moved away from Sunghoon, almost forgetting about the third presence standing behind them in the hallway.

After hearing their laughs and letting them in, your eyes flickered to the man awkwardly waiting for the interaction between the three of you to settle. Your breath hitched when your gaze met his, and you had to dig self control from the depths of your mind not to overreact.

Jake was as handsome as ever.

He was casually dressed in a leather jacket over a white shirt and distressed jeans that seemed to fit him almost too perfectly. Effortlessly good, rough and soft just like your heart enjoyed, which was beating loudly in your ribcage, enough for you to fear to be heard even with the noises from the other two who had just entered your house and were greeting Jay.

“Hey,” Jake managed to say without giving you a proper look, eyes avoiding your figure at all costs.

“Hey,” you replied with a forced small smile, stepping back to give him space to pass through, even though there was more than enough. You felt like it would be like that the whole night: awkward and distant. And it only increased your anxiety.

As you closed the door, feet glued on the ground, you wondered if it would be harder to understand anything physics related or to deal with Jake’s presence. The only coherent answer you found was that either would be a pain in the ass, and you would be the one getting fucked at the end. Emotionally and academically.

Watching them settling into your apartment, comfortably lounging on your couch while laughing and drinking the beer Jay served, you couldn’t help but think when exactly the whole tutoring thing would start. You waited for someone to bring it up, because although it seemed like a good idea, your inner self had doubts about your own reaction when being in a place alone with Jake and had no plans to pursue or engage it.

The couch’s armrest had never felt so awkwardly uncomfortable as you sat there, listening to the endless, nonchalant chatter around you. One of your arms rested on the back of the couch, propping up your head as your eyes shifted between Jake and the others. Whenever he caught you staring, you quickly averted your gaze, pretending to act like you weren’t a bundle of nerves just being in the same room with him.

Heeseung was the one near you, casually using your legs as a makeshift support to his own arm, and Jay sat beside him, completely indifferent to Heeseung's touchy nature – it became routine, to some extent.

Sunghoon and Jake took place on the smaller couch opposite to you, Jake smiling along to the conversation while adding his own points to the whatever story they were telling and Sunghoon laughter filling the room.

You always found it amusing how Sunghoon seemed to be the reserved one, but when he was with his friends he was definitely the loudest.

Heeseung and you grew closer than you expected, often being the one giving you rides home, even raising some suspicions among your friends about being your boyfriend. As nice, gentle and charming he was, you never saw yourself having feelings for or even dating him.

Not when Jake was on the equation.

What?

“But hey, Jake,” Heeseung suddenly cut the topic and gave a quick squeeze on your thigh. “Weren’t you supposed to be helping Y/N with her studies?”

A cold chill immediately filled your belly and you froze in place, the smile lingering on your lips by listening to their funny chatter fading slowly as you lifted your gaze to Jake. Heeseung was innocently asking, but it caused your stomach to flip a whole 360, and the room was now dividing looks between you two.

You watched as Jake’s expression faltered for just a moment, then quickly returned to his usual easy going demeanor. Before he said anything in response, Jay took the front of it.

“Oh, that’s right,” Jay said, leaning back into the couch with a teasing grin. “I asked you to help my sister, not come here to drink my beer and lounge on my expensive couch.”

You wanted to sink into the floor, or at least disappear. Jake shifted uncomfortably, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips though you could clearly tell he was faking it. Jay’s obliviousness only made it worse, as if he couldn’t even sense the awkwardness between you and Jake.

There was no blame on him, though, especially because no one expected any type of tension between any of you.

You shot a quick glance at Jake again, who was avoiding your gaze once more, and all of a sudden the room felt too small, too crowded, as if the space around you was closing in, sinking you deep into a pool of anxiety.

“You don’t have to bother, really,” your voice filled the room, words waving weirdly in the air. You let out a mild chuckle, pushing yourself from your seating to stand up. “I’ll go to my room, so you guys can hang–”

“Hey, no way,” Jay interrupted your attempt of running away, frowning and lifting his beer bottle to point it at you, yet blind to the real atmosphere unfolding. “Don’t try to escape from physics, kiddo.”

Heeseung’s small snort followed Jay's words, giving you teasing glinted eyes before remarking, his lips against his beer bottle. “Yeah, Y/N. You’ve been avoiding it for God’s know how long.”

Somehow Heeseung’s choice of words seemed to light up a strange feeling in your chest, as if he was reading beyond reality, slightly aware of the you and Jake situation – to begin with, there was no you and Jake situation. No way he would say that about your relationship with physics alone. Anyway, your cheeks warmed instantly, your eyes wavering to any other place rather than the rest of the people sharing that abruptly small space with you.

“I think the kitchen is far enough for you both,” Sunghoon quickly added with a relaxed nod, sipping on his beer. “We promise not to be loud, yeah?” He smirked, completely aware he was the loudest in the house so far.

You chuckled, switching your weight on your foot. “I can’t believe it when you’re the one saying it,” you teased back, eliciting an immediate laugh from Sunghoon. “But yeah, the kitchen seems to be an okay place. Besides, there’s food and I can totally escape from physics or whatever with food,” you shot Jay a playful grin, quirking an eyebrow, challenging.

“Don’t you dare.” Jay said firmly, but not really. You knew he was nothing but a worried brother about your mental health and how your academic performance affected it, wishing to give you only the best.

Unfortunately, the best in his vision wasn’t necessarily the best you needed at that moment.

Jake finally stood up, fixing his clothes as he did so, running his fingers through his thick hair and glancing at you; your eyes tracked his every movement, the sinking feeling in your stomach tightening with the view. He was so damn hot.

“The kitchen it is, then.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump of nervousness in your throat that came back in a strike, after reminding you would be spending quite a long time alone with Jake, having nowhere to run nor anything to calm down your fluttering heart.

Your legs betrayed you, feeling weak under the pressure of the situation. Still, you forced yourself to move, muttering a quiet “I’ll go grab my books,” before rushing off towards your room.

As you came back, hands shaking and mouth dry, you headed straight to the kitchen wishing to have some more time alone to organize your thoughts, gather yourself and regain your senses before calling Jake. Unexpectedly, he was already there, sitting stiffly on the chair he chose while his slender fingers rapidly danced on his phone screen, unaware of your presence.

Your entire body froze, your plan going down the drain right away. You bit your lower lip, a soft, involuntary action that seemed to be the only thing holding you together in that moment. You had to keep moving forward. You had to. But you couldn’t. Not when Jake was just… there.

A glimpse of a smirk curved the corner of his oh, so plush, distracting lips, glistening under the kitchen’s light while his attention was all on his phone, clearly chatting with someone. Girlfriend? The thought crossed your mind briefly; a man like Jake was probably taken already, and, to be honest, a small part of you almost hoped for it to be true, so you could stop torturing yourself over your silly feelings for him and really move on.

But Jake didn’t ease your side, cheeky tongue every so often playing with the corner of his mouth, teeth pressing his plump bottom lip, and from where you stood you could see his pretty eyelashes fluttering with each blink, oblivious to the effect he was causing on you, oblivious to the storm happening inside your chest.

With a loud and sudden laugh his body jolted, phone slipping from his hands and clattering onto the table as he threw his head back, one of his hands messily running through his silk brown strands out of habit.

Only then he noticed you, standing up in the kitchen’s door, hugging your books, clearly staring.

“Holy fuck, Y/N!” He blurted out, a hand flying to his chest as if to steady himself, his puppy eyes widened to you, shoulders clearly tensed. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I–I’m sorry,” you stuttered, stepping further into the room and trying to sound casual, as if you weren’t watching him from the past seconds with your heart almost ripping your ribcage open. “Didn’t mean to.”

Jake took a second to regain his composure and his eyes involuntarily lingered on your figure longer than he wanted to, nearly shamelessly tracing the lines of your body; the soft curve of your bare shoulders, how your spaghetti strap top appealed to evidentiate your collarbone and tightened just enough on your chest. Then he paid attention to your pretty fingers clutching the edges of your notebook and books, lowering to the tiny bit of exposed skin of your belly, then your beautiful hips and covered legs.

You had chosen a comfortable outfit, not giving a thought about appearance at all – after all, not only the boys had seen you way worse, but the night’s plans gravitated towards studying and studying only.

Even so, Jake had to hold himself back. There was something about the way your clothes hugged your form that had him silently disorientated, heart faltering some beats and breath hardly passing through his airways, his own body heating just by visualizing you.

He cleared his throat, glancing down to fidget with his phone as a way to ground himself, breaking the tension settled thickly between you two. The small sound brought you out of the daze you got yourself into without realizing it.

“So…” Jake finally said, his voice a bit unsteady and lower than you expected. “Where do you want to start?”

His sweet eyes lifted to meet yours again, and his usual easy smile had a hint of something more cautious, more careful, as he focused on your adorable wide-eyed expression. He noticed your cheeks with a faint blush and couldn’t hold back a little grin when you diverted your eyes shyly.

You slid into the seat across him, sprawling your materials over the table with a quiet sigh, your eyes anxiously avoiding Jake’s.

“I have no idea.” You admitted, letting out a nervous chuckle, struggling to soothe your nerves. “The basics?” You added unsurely and Jake was fast to nod tenderly.

Though he was dealing with a lot in his mind, he would always have a soft spot for you.

“Basics, yeah. Sounds great.” He agreed with a small smile, carefully reaching out your notebook and opening to scan your notes.

A wave of embarrassment flushed over you as you remembered the stupid things you wrote during your classes, fighting your demons trying to understand at least the bare minimum, scribbles that hardly made sense, and that now probably got you looking extra dumb and childish under Jake’s judgment.

You heard him humming before grabbing one of your books, his fingers brushing yours quietly and quickly as he did so. You ignored the burst of electricity induced by that simple touch, watching how his slender fingers casually flipped the pages until he reached the one he was searching for.

“You know, I can explain this easily to you,” Jake began to talk, his voice dropping to an unexpected gentle teacher-like tone as he leaned over the table a little, enough to get closer to you, enough to have your stomach twisting and flipping to every direction possible with the warmth his body radiated. “Just don’t mind me if I get too technical sometimes.”

“No problem,” you managed to say, grateful your voice was steady enough for you not to sound stupid or squealed, your eyes glued to your handwriting, tracing the lines of each word as a way of desperately dodging the possibility of meeting Jake’s gaze.

Even the faintest peek of his furrowed brow when he was focused was enough to make you melt, and he had no idea of how attractive he looked when he was all serious and devoted explaining his nerd things.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you stop following me, alright?” He added, a smile tugging at his lips that you only saw by the corner of your eyes.

You nodded quickly, swallowing hard; the scent of his cologne was flooding your senses, drawing you in closer, making it harder to think straight.

“Okay,” you replied, quiet and breathlessly.

For the following few minutes Jake explained the concepts slowly, his voice calm and steady as he walked you through the basics, but your head kept drifting your attention away, deeply engaged with the way his gorgeous fingers traced the lines of your textbook. The following thoughts were too dirty to even continue with.

Jake had that familiar Australian accent that naturally made you weak, and now, combined with the way he had softened his tone, speaking so close to your face, it was enough to drive you completely insane. You couldn’t focus on anything but how his warm breath traveled gently, brushing against the sensitive skin of your cheeks, increasing your fluster.

Your heart raced. It raced far too quickly.

The realization of how your body was reacting brought back memories of the times Jake had caused similar sensations in the past, back when he treated you with that older-brother tenderness and you would instantly overreact, shivering at his subtle touches, stuttering whenever his gaze landed on you with his usual captivating smile.

It was undeniable that something had shifted at some point; once there was the slight possibility of getting something more from him, no more holding “Jay's little sister's” place. You couldn’t quite grasp what happened or understand what had triggered such a sudden change, especially since you couldn’t recall having done anything wrong.

Your mind kept drifting away from the materials in front of you. Physics was never your thing, and in that very moment no amount of effort could make it so.

Not when Jake was all over you; in your head, by your side, overwhelming your senses.

Every so often his gaze flicked back to you, expecting to see your attentive, engaged expression, and consequently catching the way you chewed on your lower lip or absentmindedly twirled a pen between your fingers with furrowed brows.

You had tied your hair in a bun as some strands began to fall over your face, working as a distraction – you were already surrounded with an overwhelming distraction, there was no need for more. That simple act had Jake stuttering, fumbling amidst his words and losing track of his thoughts as the hairstyle gave him the privilege to see your bare, beautiful and kissable neck.

His hands tingled, urging to touch you there. Would you like to be choked?

Ok, that definitely wasn’t physics.

Jake fell silent, swallowing hard as you leaned forward to see the drawing he was just explaining, thinking the delay was intentional. When no words came from his mouth and the air suddenly grew thicker, your eyes followed the trail from his fingers to his veiny hands, from his covered torso to his face, hovering longer on how clenched his sharp jaw was and how his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.

You shot a questioning look, blinking innocently with brows raised just slightly.

Jake wavered under your curious, yet somehow intense gaze, averting it immediately in order to regain his conscious back. Your lips had pursed into a small pout that did nothing to help his way out of his messy head.

Everything he could think about was how bad he wanted to kiss you.

“Something’s wrong?” Your velvety voice enveloped the room, a naive question with a supposedly simple answer that got caught in Jake’s throat.

Jake never saw you as a potential partner or lover, let alone as an object of his desire.

You were Jay’s little sister that he cared for as if his own. He saw you grow up, he watched you achieving your goals and got inspired by your strength to overcome the toxic place you had to call a house. Jake cherished your relationship with Jay, grateful for both of you having each other, and that was pretty much you to him.

Even in those times when he treated you to ice cream and snacks during his college breaks, when he visited his parents back home, he kept you in a certain specific spot in his life – something close to family.

He loved to tease you, exactly like a mischievous older brother, laughing when you tripped, when your mouth was stained with chocolate, or when you fumbled through words while talking about your school crush.

Jake had always seen you as a younger sister he needed to look out for.

Until you grew up.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the switch happened, when he stopped seeing you as a little girl he had to tease and began noticing you as a ridiculously attractive woman, but seeing you in person after two years definitely played a role in that.

Jake had been your closest company through your first two years of high school, filling the role of an older brother, a place Jay couldn’t quite manage to fill because of his own study and work demands, unwillingly.

During your last year of high school you stopped seeing Jake, as he had gotten caught up in the same cycle as your brother: studying and working. And you completely understood, knowing that soon enough you would be in a similar place.

Then you graduated and started your own college journey, and Jake, deep into his own responsibilities, went another year without seeing you.

It was at the beginning of your sophomore year in college that you two crossed paths again – at a party when Jay finally agreed to take you with him, after much persistence on your part.

Jake froze.

Jake quite literally forgot how to breathe, forgot how to blink, how to properly work as a human the moment his eyes landed on you, stunning in a short, wine-colored dress, casually holding a drink in your hand.

Jake didn’t remember your body looking anything like that, used to seeing you in casual, loose clothing rather than that fitted, short dress that framed your thighs so perfectly, drawing his hungry gaze to stare as a starved man, with a subtle neckline that hinted at the curve of your chest.

Hot.

That was all he could think. Until he realized it was you.

He remembered it vividly: watching you from behind as you danced, immediately struck by how attractive that random woman seemed to be. But as his gaze traveled upward and found your face, he froze, utterly overwhelmed with shock and panic. Especially when you noticed him looking, shooting a cute, surprised smile and a little wave, almost as if you were going to come over.

To say he ran away from there was close to an euphemism, rushing over the bathroom within a lame excuse thrown at his friends before heading back home after using the bar’s back door as his way out.

The walk home was painful. Jake’s head was filled with nasty thoughts that made him completely unable to disable it from happening, swirling around in a dirty carousel.

Jake felt like a naughty, filthy pervert. You were Jay’s little sister. The one he played innocently with, hung out countless times without the slightest thought of having you as a true woman; and if the thought ever crossed his mind, he would feel disgusted, because it made no sense and was wrong.

So, the only way to overcome your effect on him was to ignore you at every possible opportunity, not expecting you to care that much about it.

It was a stupid choice, an asshole one even. You used to be friends and now he would rather choose to be eaten by a bear than see you up close and act normal.

Jay’s sudden plan of asking for his help was the start of his downfall for you, and now he was dealing with the consequences of his previous decisions.

“Jakey?”

The nickname. The fucking nickname you last called him years ago, now sounding even mellow and sweeter, yet as sultry as ever. Jake wondered how would it be to have you underneath him, moaning his name as if your life depended on it with his dick buried deep into your cunt.

“Y–Yeah?”

Jake immediately damned himself for the stutter, afraid of being too obvious with his nervous reaction. He made the mistake of looking at you, trying to act as normal as possible, and somehow his brain managed to picture your oh, so cute eyes fluttering close as he pleasured you.

His face heated instantly, as if fire was being spread all over his skin. His body was hot as hell, the loosen pants now not so comfortable as before, tightening on his crotch area.

“What happened?”

You nonchalantly touched his covered forearm as you asked, concern written all over your face as you struggled to understand what was happening. Jake's abrupt reaction of moving away from your soft hands startled you a little, your head cocking to the side as you frowned, reading Jake’s widened and panicked eyes.

Unaware of the real deal, oblivious to the torrent of emotions and feelings dancing inside Jake’s head and chest, you started to feel really annoyed.

Was Jake slipping back into that strange, sudden habit of ignoring you, like he had been since you had started crossing paths again?

There was no plausible explanation for his reaction. The two of you used to go out together all the time, comfortable touches being a natural part of your relationship – especially since Jake was almost ridiculously clingy with his close friends.

When the whole ‘avoiding you’ situation first started you were very confused and questioned what you did wrong. Then you grew mad and eventually got over it since you had no contact at all with Jake throughout the following months, nearly forgetting his existence.

But now you had to face it all again, confronting the feelings you once went through; a familiar bitter blend of anger and hurt. It stung like reopening a wound you thought it healed. Exposed, sensitive, vulnerable, bringing back memories you hoped to erase.

“Nothing happen–”

“Why did you stop talking to me?”

Your interruption was as abrupt as Jake’s reaction to your close presence earlier. He noticed the spark of rage flashing your two orbs suddenly, causing him to blink, caught off guard, eyes widening even bigger if it was possible, trying to understand what you just had hit him with.

“Huh?”

You let out a frustrated huff before repeating yourself even more mad, your hands traveling to your hair fix some random strands as an anxious fidgeting habit to ground you.

“You started to ignore and avoid me. Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off?”

Jake was taken aback with your outburst of questions, lips parted, words caught somewhere down his throat. There was something close to a knot pressing the back of his tongue that made it hard to speak steadily.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Jake.” You sighed, expression softening just slightly, studying his face. “We used to hang out. We were friends, even.”

Jake exhaled, biting his lip as a way to hold back his words. If he let it all out, he would scare you so fucking bad.

“Yes, when you were younger.”

“What changed?”

You saw how his shoulders tensed, his neck moving as he swallowed hard, demonstrating to feel flustered under your inquisitive gaze. His eyes dropped to his lap, where one of his hands rested comfortably. He dug the depths of his thoughts to keep it as safe and subtle as possible, not wanting to pour it all on you.

“I... I always saw you as a little sister. That’s how I looked at you, like family.”

You nodded along, following his soft-spoken speech. You didn't understand what exactly he was aiming for with it so far, so you let him continue, hoping it would bring a closure for your relationship to blossom again.

“But then–” He hesitated, eyes flickering up to you and then drifting away. His voice dropped an octave as he added. “I got overwhelmed with my last year in college and eventually with my work. So I didn't have time to see you often. Life just got… Busy.”

Deep down he knew you wouldn’t buy his lame explanation. However, didn’t stop him from holding tightly the small string of hope you would let it pass.

At the same time, he had a tingling feeling telling him to blurt out everything he went through when you were the subject. How hard it was to act normal when Jay talked about you, to not get hard seeing your cute instagram pictures, not picture himself getting lost in the middle of your plush thighs.

God, you worked him up too easily.

“I get that part, I really do,” you replied, boldly and kind of unconsciously placing your hand on top of Jake's. This time he didn’t flinch, taking in your soft, innocent touch. Still, his breath hitched. “But when I moved here, you started avidly avoiding me,” you continued, voice dropping to something near a whisper as your fingers traced delicate patterns on the back of his hand. “You’d ignore me at parties, never stopping by to visit. I just didn’t understand.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably on his seat, embarrassed of your accurate analysis.

“The visiting part is Jay's fault. He was the one who suggested for him to go to our house instead of us three coming over here. Just… Making things easier, I guess.”

“That makes sense,” you murmured, pulling your hand away as you realized the weight of the intimacy, afraid of being too weird. “But the avoiding and ignoring me… It doesn't make any.”

Jake closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep sigh. There were no more ways to run away from the topic; his weak excuses had long been overrun by the intensity of your pressing curiosity. You were ready to dig deep and uncover the truth at any cost. Jake knew you well enough to expect this – your persistence, your determination, your stubbornness were traits he had always admired in you and your brother.

“I’m sorry.”

“If you can explain why you’re sorry, maybe I’ll accept it,” you challenged, arching a brow and immediately grabbing his attention. You knew Jake’s competitive side and loved to play with it as a coaxing manner to get what you wanted.

You watched his eyes wavering just enough to make you wonder if your tactic would work that time. But then, he chuckled dryly, blinking away from your awaiting expression.

“I’m sorry for acting like that, Y/N.” He started. “I– I panicked,” his voice was subtle as a feather. If you weren’t alone and far from the noise happening in your living room, you doubt you would be able to hear it clearly.

“Panicked?” you echoed, confusion knitting your brow, your head tilting just slightly. “Over what?”

Jake’s face turned a deeper shade of red, especially on his cheeks and on the top of his ears. You got even more puzzled, especially after he answered with just a single word.

“You.”

You.

It hung in the heavy air as thick as a volcano’s smoke, deepening your confusion, your heart starting to beat faster and your hands getting sweaty.

“Me? What do you mean?”

You didn't expect your voice to sound so quiet as you spoke, but you got somehow caught by surprise with how things turned out.

So you really did something wrong?

“You… grew up, Y/N. You’re–” He struggled to find the right words, shifting uncomfortably once more, his eyes traveling between the floor, the table and his lap, never daring to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry, but you’re beautiful. And… more than that. You’re… You’re hot.”

An awkward and tense silence filled the room right after Jake’s stained voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, as if he wished he could swallow them back together with the knot on his throat.

Now that he had just verbalized the main reason for his behavior towards you, he was feeling extremely disgusting and pathetic. He could feel the weight of his own shame pressing down, and an almost nauseating guilt pushing at him; a reminder he was wrong for allowing you to go out from the safe and special spot as a “little sister” in his heart, to occupy a darker and more lustful one.

It wasn’t your fault, though. Jake would never in his life blame you for a mistake he had authorized to happen. This wasn’t just a fleeting, harmless slip; he had seen you, had filthy thoughts before fully realizing it was you. And afterwards he did nothing much to stop those thoughts from creeping back in, the only option being avoiding you instead of facing it as a true man.

He swallowed hard once more – becoming a natural habit at that point – and forced himself to look up for a brief moment. All he saw was your stunned expression, mouth slightly agape and eyes apparently trying to search for some kind of joke, to which it only fueled the growing dread inside him.

Jake’s mind was a spiral. The fragile line he had been teetering about you began to fall apart as he realized that you would probably cut him off completely, screaming at him the words he deserved to hear.

A creepy, weird and disgusting man.

His pulse quickened, panic creeping in with every second that you didn’t speak, an urge to break the silence immediately, as if maintaining his being in it would drive him completely insane. With that in mind, he opened his mouth to babble.

“I– I don’t expect you to understand. God, I wouldn’t even blame you if you decide to never speak to me again. I’m sure– I’m sure we can arrange an excuse to Jay about your study, or even tell the truth– I’m–” He cut himself briefly to look away from you, who still had your same expression. His hands were busy gesturing anxiously. “I know I crossed a very dangerous line. It’s so fucking wrong and– And I’ve tried to come up with anything to push it away, even ignore it. But then, there’s you.”

Jake’s voice faltered, as though his world was colliding, ending, as though he was on the verge of losing his mind somehow.

He was.

“There’s always you, looking like some kind of goddess that makes me go insane.”

The realization of what you just heard made your pulse quicken. Jake’s babbling worked perfectly to ground you and, ironically enough, to send you back to heaven, as you felt like dreaming after hearing his first sayings.

Over the years you thought about having Jake in other ways rather than just a friend or an older brother, but never quite grasping to it completely due to the small, yet existing age gap and the different stages of life drifting you apart.

To acknowledge how Jake really felt towards you was similar to living in a vivid fever dream, it got you clenching your thighs, panties pathetically dampening just enough to make you shy, as if he would become aware of your body reacting to his words.

You opened your mouth to respond, to try to find any words that could make sense in between the mess of emotions happening inside you; relief, desire, passion. But before you could even begin, a familiar voice cut through the tension, as sharp as a knife, startling both of you as if you had been caught red-handed.

“How's study going?”

After Jay broke into your studying session with Jake and consequently interrupted the development of your newfound possibility of relationship with the said guy, you couldn’t help but dive into a sea of frustration.

Jake immediately panicked and ran away, muttering a lame excuse that he had things to take care of and he would catch up with you later, leaving you sitting there, bewildered, confused and angry – with him and with you brother, who even though had no fault, shattered your chances to voice out your side of the story and maybe, just maybe, get Jake to your bedroom.

Jay didn’t flinch a little, aware of how Jake could be impulsive and random with his spontaneous persona and let him go, smiling softly to you after gently stroking your hair and ask if you wanted to relax with him and the remaining guys, thinking you could use some of it after the long minutes you spent studying.

You were quick to dismiss the offer, seizing the opportunity to excuse yourself to your room, pretending to be really tired and to need some time alone after reading so much physics hard stuff.

However, as you crashed into your bed and stuffed your head into the soft pillow, your body didn’t feel like soothing any time soon, your brain working overtime to remark each and every word uttered by Jake, his low voice as clear as crystal water as it repeated restlessly.

You’re hot. A goddess. Makes me go insane.

That night, you met a brand new and nameless sensation. It was close to frustration but layered with the tempting awareness of something you could nearly touch, yet not claim.

Jake ran away, as he always did, without even giving you the proper chance to tell him that, God, you felt the same – perhaps even worse.

His mere act of voicing those genuine, sultry words had already done enough to ruin your self-control – and panties, taking away the opportunity to express just how incredibly irresistible he looked, how you longed to devour every centimeter of his slightly sun-kissed skin, to taste his plush lips, to make him wholly yours.

You asked for Jake's number to Jay the next day, under the pretext of needing to get some extra materials and maybe schedule your following meetings, hoping for it to be reasonable enough. And though Jay willingly accepted and supported your idea, Jake partially ignored you, at most answering your texts with “ok” and “sure”, never leaving an opening for you to draw him into a longer conversation.

So when Jay served you a stack of pancakes on Monday, you expected everything to happen but what really unfolded.

“I scheduled another study session with Jake today. That cool with you?”

The forkful bringing you a piece of your food froze midair, the assimilation of what Jay’s just said made your movements halt shamefully instantly as you raised your eyes only enough to encounter Jay’s relaxed face.

“Mhm?”

“Jake’s coming over after work today,” Jay repeated casually, munching his food. “I think he gets off around four, so he’ll be here when you’re back from your classes.”

Ok, you definitely – and unfortunately – had heard him right. A spark of excitement and an urge to get yourself dressed extra prettily for college rushed over your body as you straightened your posture on your chair, using of a simple nod to silent agree with the deal.

You feared your words would get stuck on your throat.

“Oh, and I’ll be working from home today, so you won’t be alone with him.”

All the efforts were made for you not to choke on your food, but the honey sauce dripping straight down your throat elicited a quiet, small cough from you. You gulped down whatever was on your way to voice out anything, and all you managed was to mutter a confused “Huh?”

Jay smirked at your reaction, but not really reading into it.

“You know, just in case,” he shrugged nonchalantly and your brow furrowed, stomach twisting with nervousness.

“Just in case of what, exactly?”

You damned yourself for using such a fearful tone, like a frightened kid that had hidden a secret from their parents, leaving gaps for an overinterpretation that Jay could try doing if he was devoted to completely understanding the strange way you were acting.

You deeply wondered if he knew about whatever happened with you and Jake that Friday, or worse, if he eavesdropped on Jake's confession about how he felt about you.

It wasn’t like Jay would be fine with Jake coming over if he did in fact know or heard the conversation. And knowing your brother, he would rather have a civilized and polite conversation with you instead of playing around.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Jay started, a glint of mischief twinkling in his eyes. “You hate physics and I called Jake to come teach physics to you. The other day, you were kneading that pizza dough like it owed you money. Don’t know what you’d do to someone who’s a walking physics encyclopedia.”

Your pulse quickened, but your shoulders loosened. Gladly, Jay had already moved on the subject, unbothered, yapping about how he preferred doing his job from home and how annoying it was to deal with paperwork in person. All you could do was to nod along, anxiously counting the minutes.

With almost absolute certainty, none of your classes that day could hold your attention. And so it was. The professors' words seemed like random sound waves, failing to form coherent sentences for you, and you had to fight the constant urge to get up from your chair and leave, even though you knew Jake wouldn't be there yet.

Mondays were exhausting. You had to attend multiple classes, and especially that day there were practical lectures that kept you stuck on campus later than usual. By the end of the day, despite the exhaustion, you were still buzzing with anticipation.

You practically ran back to the apartment you shared with your brother, trying not to make too much effort and break a sweat – after all, you wouldn't have time for a shower or to get dressed properly before seeing Jake.

You felt like a teenager nervously preparing to meet her crush in the hallways between classes; your hands were trembling, your whole body thrilling with excitement, as if each part of you was electrified with anticipation.

Your heart pounded relentlessly, as if each beat echoed louder than the last, straight into your eardrums. The closer you got to your shared apartment, the harder it became to calm your racing thoughts, and the overwhelming mix of excitement and nervousness almost made you dizzy when you grabbed the door knob and twisted it open.

Jake was sprawled on your couch, golden specs casually resting on his face and his brown, silky hair poking to different places since he was playing with it nonchalantly while the other hand held his phone. His eyes raised up from the screen when he heard the sound of the door opening, and with a subtle smile he greeted you.

“Hi, Y/N.”

Your gaze instinctively hovered across the room, searching for Jay’s presence. At the same time, you fought against the urge to make yourself comfortable with Jake on your couch. He looked so inviting, cozy and fluffy laying in there, his demeanor soft and relaxed, nearly pulling you close, drifting your thoughts away from reality.

It took seconds for it to hit harshly, as you remembered the intimacy that had once been so natural between the two of you no longer existed, and the possibility of reclaiming that closeness felt slightly out of reach. It was a bitter thought, one that reminded you how fragile things had become.

However, for Jake’s misfortune you weren’t one to give up so easily, now aware of his feelings and thoughts towards you, there was no way to back down so quickly. Not knowing he nourished a desire strong enough to make him opt to avoid you in order to get over it.

“He’s in his office room,” Jake explained when noticed what you were doing, kindly breaking you out of your trance.

“Oh,” you mumbled, nodding awkwardly. Jake sat straight on the couch, eyes boldly locking into yours as he did so.

You licked your lips out of habit, a bit taken aback with the idea of being in a room alone with him again, the anxiety you had built up throughout the day exploding in your chest just like fireworks.

The slightest motion of your tongue dragging along your plump, cherry colored lips didn’t go unnoticed by Jake’s nervous gaze. His eyes flickered downwards right after, and you silently cheered when he took his time to appreciate your bare thighs in full display for him.

You had chosen an outfit that was simple yet comfortable, but also bold, different from what you had planned for the day before knowing you would spend time with Jake; a relatively oversized sweater that would protect you from the gentle breeze of the day, paired with a short skirt that highlighted your rounded thighs – thighs you knew Jake would enjoy seeing.

And he so fucking did. The way he parted his lips, swallowed nothing, and shifted uncomfortably on his seat confirmed your theory.

Jake’s cheeks warmed when he realized what he just did, checking you out carelessly and right in front of your beautiful eyes. He cleared his throat, ready to throw some random small talk to guide the situation to the real deal – the whole studying thing –, but you had other plans.

“I’m not mad.”

After years sharing moments with Jake, having him practically living in your house similar to a family member, you had gathered enough sources to know Jake was torturing himself with a guilt you didn’t see to be necessary, not when you desired him as much as he wanted you, not when things could be as simple as one plus one.

Jake was smart enough to catch onto what you were referring to, still, he hesitated, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief. He remained silent, waiting for your following words when you opened your mouth and closed, as though struggling to find the best, right ones.

Your feet moved towards his direction and you took the seat beside him, keeping a safe distance. A distance that would keep yourself under control not to jump on his lap, tug his hair with your hands while kissing him passionately, using your hips to rut onto his bulge, aiming to hear his lascivious noises.

Swallowing your impulsive thoughts back, deep on your throat, you continued.

“I’m not mad that you…” Holding back a shy smile, you bit your lip. “I’m not mad that you think I’m hot.”

Your voice came out as quiet as possible. The fleeting sensation of being heard by your brother weighed heavy on the air, pushing you to keep it as hushed as you could.

Once more, Jake shifted on his seat, his own fluster increasing after hearing you voicing out his last confession. He didn’t feel stupid, though. It was impossible to feel anything other than thrilled.

He couldn’t pinpoint precisely what turn that conversation with you would be taking; the small hint of fear creeped his chest, but the excitement of positively reading the situation was deliciously overgrowing it.

“But we have to talk…” You tried to sound firm, yet gentle, not wanting to scare him away. The way your eyes rested on his face made Jake’s heart skip a beat. You were so fucking beautiful. “You know, I didn’t tell you about my part in this story.”

Jake felt his body untensing with your relaxed, tempting even, words; the atmosphere heavy but not with anything bad. It felt suffocating in the bestest way possible, as if a hundred of amazing possibilities could unfold, each of them having your lips pressing against his as a starter and his dick buried deep in you as a finisher.

“Do we?” Jake tilted his head to the side, eyes gleaming with teasing after the realization. The same behavior he would have with you was brought back in a snap, nonetheless, you doubted your strength to deal with it, especially when his two brown orbs showed a hint of something darker.

“Yes.”

A quiet, feather-like whisper. It was all you managed to say, failing to keep up with your steady, collected image.

“Okay, we can talk,” he nodded softly, and though his eyes showed affection, the faint smirk adorning the corner of his lips triggered your inner core to pleasantly twist.

Jake leaned closer, now relaxed before your presence; your compliant demeanor easing his way through it, taunting his bolder side to shine brighter. Your breath hitched when his eyes wandered your face carefully, his body nearly pressing yours as he drank in your perfect features before gently grabbing your chin to pull you closer.

He was centimeters away from touching you where you needed him the most – firstly. Because your entire being craved for him.

“But unfortunately, I have to teach you physics before, pretty.”

That was how you ended up sitting at your desk after announcing your arrival to your brother, saying you would be with Jake in your bedroom for studies purposes.

Bullshit.

Jake brought an extra chair to sit by your side, and you truly made double effort to keep your focus on whatever he was explaining, but his words sounded slurred, vague, like a baby talk. His voice and accent were unnecessarily attractive, inducing your head to concentrate on its sounds instead of the meaning. Not to mention his fucking kissable lips, so, so, so close, yet so far.

Each time your eyes darted to the side, you caught a glimpse of his side profile. Distracting, beautiful, captivating.

Jake had a nose you swore it was sculpted by the finest, most talented artist; sharp and smooth just right, softly curved at the tip, gorgeously displayed on his handsome face. That high bridge triggered your most profound and dirty thoughts, your eyes dropping to a darker shade almost instantly as you got drunk on his features.

Jake’s whole being was attractive, tempting, a living demon who now taunted your worst behavior and you loved every bit of it. Alongside that, the unveiling situation between the two of you was eating you alive, slowly consuming your mind.

After the little study session you agreed on talking about the dangerously unspoken matter, with the hope of resolving things. On your bed, if you were lucky.

You wanted to have Jake’s hands exploring your body, gripping and pulling you closer, pressing you against the mattress while fucking you from behind, hard, deep, fast, whatever he decided to. You needed his lips marking your neck, his face stuffed between your legs, his mouth working on your pussy while you screamed his name.

You could almost feel how his tongue would work perfectly in your clit, licking, sucking and–

“And that’s how thermodynamics works. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

You blinked confused towards Jake, feeling just a little bad for not really enjoying your private lessons as much as he was. It was cute to see how talkative he became whenever physics was the topic, and extremely hot to witness his smart brain working in full motion to explain every word to you.

Nonetheless your attention span was long gone, ever since his scent started to intoxicate your senses, making you wish to have it all over your skin with his body hovering yours.

“But of course you’d be paying more attention to my lips and my nose.”

You widened your eyes, speechless. Jake clicked his tongue, shaking his head in a faux discontentment. You trembled on your seat, unconsciously moving back from the closeness of your bodies; there was a fear creeping in your head of losing your inner battle to the raw passion tingling your skin.

“Listen, Y/N. I’m really trying here. I’d appreciate it if you did some effort too.”

Jake was once again teetering the same risky line, this time with less hesitation, his confidence bubbling as he realized you wouldn't be pushing him away.

The moment he caught your hungry your devouring him throughout the entire tutoring, how willingly to let him in you seemed to be, devoted to the idea of fucking under your brother’s roof, he threw his self control away and started to think with his other head.

You gulped, eyes lowering to your notebook peacefully resting on your desk.

“I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Y’know what?” Jake suddenly stood up, offering his hand with his gorgeous slender fingers full of silver rings for you to grab. “Com’ere.”

Your squinted eyes flickered between his digits and his face, searching for some proper explanation that unfortunately you didn't receive. So you followed his steps, standing up as well and shivering with the touch of his mildly cold skin against yours.

With the way Jake grinned, your stomach tightened, fearing whatever he had on his mind. Trying not to be so obvious with your embarrassing reactions, you frowned.

“What are we doi–”

“The first law in thermodynamics is that energy can’t be destroyed or created, it can only change forms.”

He said his speech within his teacher-like tone once more, interrupting you without caring to explain why standing up and explaining it to you again would make the material magically settle inside your brain.

Especially when you wanted to settle on your bed with him on top of you.

“What the f–”

“So, if I do this,” Jake raised a hand, gently placing it on your right cheek. You winced and retracted a bit with the unexpected soft brush of his slightly cold skin on your, now, heated face. “Do you feel it?” He whispered, fingertips tracing the warm flesh underneath his touch, his body instinctively getting closer to yours as his eyelids softened. “The heat of your skin will work its way to make mine less cold, y’know? Mine is absorbing from yours, to stabilize our temperatures together. The energy isn’t being destroyed nor created, it’s transferred from one body to another until they find the perfect equilibrium.”

It was pathetic the way you nodded along, Jake’s words and presence reverberating throughout your body similar to a wave of pure pleasure, your eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and shock with this new method.

So, physics can be interesting, huh?

“Now,” Jake got closer, his voice dropping an octave while the hand that held yours found comfort on your waist, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “Question: what happens when two equally heated bodies touch each other?”

Jake’s face was just a few centimeters away from yours, his lips ghosting, tempting a kiss you wished to happen as soon as possible; he seemed to be testing the waters, glad that you allowed him to do so.

The way his warm breath tickled your skin was dizzying, yet addictive. You shivered, respiration quickening with the way Jake’s eyes dropped, almost closing, as he got charmed by your soft, plump and oh, so kissable lips.

There was no adequate explanation to how your body reflexively reacted to his stimulus, your hands traveling slowly to grip onto something as a way to ground yourself, finding the thin fabric of Jake’s shirt on your way through it.

“Nothing–” You gulped when you started talking, because the simple motion had your lips grazing Jake’s. He nodded reassuringly, as a way to incite you to keep speaking, the grip on his shirt tightening. “Nothing changes.”

Your eyes lazily fluttered close and open, the tension nearly palpable in the air. Out of habit, you wetted your lips with your tongue; a habit that now got you brushing it against Jake’s lips as well. His breath hitched, surprised, but he didn’t stutter.

“Yeah,” Jake muttered, letting his hand thread through your strands, tugging it gently. You moaned softly, lips parted, a small frown gracing your features.

Jake drunkenly groaned, throwing caution and patience aside with your reaction. Fuck, his self control was down to hell and for seconds he forgot where he was, because you were everything and everywhere in his head.

He could feel how tight his pants became as his dick twitched for some attention, hard and heavy.

“You’re a quick learner when there’s practice involved, aren’t you?”

Jake’s lips were now grazing featherly on the sensitive flesh of your neck, teasing to kiss but never truly giving in.

You didn’t even notice how much you were leaning into his touch, as within every tempting brush on your skin you melted deeper, growing impatient each passing second.

Your fingers boldly slipped underneath his shirt, tracing the subtle lines of the abs you dreamed of licking and kissing and sucking and… God, you were on the verge of crying out of desperation. Your fingernails dug harder into his skin, eliciting a jolt from Jake that immediately pressed you against himself in response.

“Please, Jakey–” You whimpered when you felt his hardened bulge poking you, together with – finally – his wet kisses on your neck, nibbling gently the area with an aching slow.

Jake chuckled in contact with your sensitive skin, loving the way you tilted your head to give him more access, loving the way you were needily pressing yourself on his body, loving the way your hands involved his waist firmly; goosebumps flushed over as he delighted in your sweet and lascivious noises and responses.

A phantom of a smirk tugged the corner of Jake’s glistening lips as he trailed soft little pecks through your jawline and near to your mouth, laughing gently with the way you searched instantly for more with hooded eyes.

“Wan’ me to kiss you, pretty?” Jake asked, voice thick with raw desire. He now held you with both hands on your hips, one shamelessly lowering to your ass every so often, while yours glided over his chest until they reached his firm shoulders.

You watched Jake’s eyes flash with a mischievous spark and you promptly knew that you could play that game too. So instead of answering right away, you feigned the purest expression you could, batting your eyelashes deliberately as you looked up to him, big doe eyes twinkling with a playful innocence.

Jake wavered under your gaze, breath twitching, clearly weak to your tactics already. You held back your smile, keeping your faux naivety; the single action fueling Jake’s craving deeper.

“Only if you want it too, Jakey.”

You had no right to sound so pure, as if you were immaculate, untouched, never once ruined, yet dripping with lust and desire. So fucking filthy.

“Fuck, doll.” Jake muttered faintly, not holding back anymore, his jaw clenching as he harshly dragged you over the room, far from gently as he pushed you to bounce on the soft mattress of your bed. “I’ll kiss you,” he said, hovering on top of your body, the excitement bubbling pleasantly in your low area. “And then I’ll fuck you so, so fucking hard.”

You giggled, getting comfortable on your bed as Jake positioned himself between your legs, which hugged him naturally. As he lowered his face to do as he said, you smirked.

“Is that a promise?”

Jake’s eyes darkened, pupils wide showing you a sea of unknown feelings you never thought you would witness with him. His lips curved into a slow, teasing smile, one hand trailing deliberately the curve of your hip, your waist, chest, until it was gently wrapped around your neck.

“Bet.”

Driven by a mutual need, Jake dived into you passionately, almost desperate. You let out an instantaneous satisfied moan with the feeling of his soft lips pressing harshly on yours, one hand flying to take place on his silky, thick strands, the other gripping his wrist, keeping his hand in place on your throat.

It took seconds to have Jake’s wet tongue infiltrating the electric touch and unapologetically searching for yours while his body grinded just slightly against your clothed cunt, making it pulse in desperation, dampening the fabric of your panties.

You tried to remember if you had locked the door beforehand, the faintest peak of your moral appearing just to be completely vanished, forgotten due to the vibrations of Jake’s small noises; his groans sent signals straight to your throbbing core, each clutch of your fingers tangled on his locks igniting a new sound that you discovered to be your favorite.

Jake tightened his fingers around your throat faintly, starting a path of sloppy kisses down to your neck and shoulders, his hot tongue savoring each piece of your exposed smooth skin, and everything you could do was to squirm underneath him, struggling to maintain your sounds low.

With your movement, you accidentally brushed your knee on Jake’s crotch area the exact same moment he released your throat, causing him to open-mouth moan and frown, lips now working on your covered breasts, busying his free hand to squeeze your hips; just the fleeting contact of his heavy, still clothed, dick against your body fueled your craving deeper, your hands gripping on his strands harder.

“Jake, can you please hurry up?” You said in between a moan when he nibbled your nipple over your shirt. “We– We can’t be caught.”

Jake looked up at you, beholding the view of your beautiful fucked out expression with just a few minutes of making out while his hands explored your body. He would bet millions that underneath your underwear, you had already made a mess – the thought alone enough to make him gulp, thrilled to feel your spongy drippy walls enveloping his throbbing length.

“Newton’s third law,” Jake mumbled suddenly against your stomach, eyes glazed in yours that now showed a confused state, eyes sparkling with pure desire. He curled his fingers on the waistband of your sweatpants, lowering it enough to give him access to your laced underwear. “For every action, there’s a reaction.”

His explanation didn’t do much for you to understand right away, your frown deepening asking why he would say that so out of the blue. But as soon as he pressed his fingers over your panties and started to draw circles on your clit, you kind of got it.

“Shit,” you whispered within a whimper, rolling your hips forward as a way to get more of what Jake was offering you, making his lips curl with a satisfied grin. “I swear to G–God…”

The slowness of his movements got you sighing in frustration. It was clear he was playing with you – quite literally –, and the possibility of Jay hearing you two or even worse, bursting the door open and caughting you mid-act was as frightening as arousing.

Having to be quiet, to keep it down, to not raise suspicions. You clenched around nothing. Jake nearly felt it.

His tongue was constantly wetting his lips, mouth watering, his breath heavy, eager, like a starved man who had his favorite meal on full display but couldn’t do anything other than… watch.

You angrily propped yourself on your elbows, tugging Jake’s hair to pull him back to be face-to-face with you, his fingertips never stopping the circles on your cunt. Your lips were centimeters away from each other, eyes hooded, deepened in lust. Jake saw a remnant of your playful aura getting lost amidst the lewd words that came out of your mouth.

“You can’t keep up with your promises, I see,” you murmured, your voice low, sultry, laced with challenge; the smirk dancing on your lips heightened the defiance’s level, triggering Jake’s pulse to quicken. His breath caught as he arched an eyebrow “Should I ask you to leave so I can finish this myself?” You teased, pulling his head to the side by tightening your grip on his locks. “Are you all talk, Jaeyun?”

Jake froze for a brief moment, his mind working hard to connect your words, and the moment it did, his features hardened, utterly lured by your bait; jaw clenched, eyes darker, breath ragged. It dropped to a deeper shade of craving, raw and delightful.

Your core buzzed with anticipation and you unconsciously let out a gasp when Jake pulled you to lay back down on the soft mattress by the waist, hands immediately removing the last piece of cloth that covered your lower body, quickly to undress himself from his own shirt and jeans, exposing his torso and his hardened cock pressing against his underwear.

Absurdly hot.

Jake was absurdly hot.

A single silver necklace graced his beautiful neck in contrast with his subtly tanned skin, his chest, toned enough to drive you insane, rose and fell faintly. The way his perfect v-line drew your attention towards his underwear seemed almost purposeful, the stained portion on the thin fabric around his tip got your mouth watering. One thing you were sure of: Jake was big.

He smirked with the way you devoured him whole with your filthy gaze, feeling as much wanted as he desired you too. He playfully dropped his eyes down to his own cock just to glance at you before getting completely naked, catching just enough of your reaction over his bare body.

You had little to no time to appreciate the view as Jake hovered over you quickly, propping himself in between your spreaded legs. Your eyes gleamed with longing and your mouth fell agape when Jake started to glide his dick on your wet folds. He couldn’t hold back a groan with the feeling too, eager to get your pussy hugging his shaft.

“Condom?” He asked, lips kissing the corner of your mouth while waiting for your answer about where to find the said protection. Your immediate reply got him throbbing.

“No.”

Jake fully halted his hips, looking you dead in the eye, and when he saw nothing other than certain, he groaned. “Fuck, pretty. You can’t say th–”

“Raw, Jaeyun.” You repeated yourself, fingernails digging deep on his biceps, a moan escaping from your lips when his heavy cock brushed your clit.

“Damn,” he mumbled against your neck, aligning his length within your pulsing, drippy hole, aching to be fulfilled.

As Jake’s tip pressed against you, a messy kiss took place of your mouths in order to muffle your noises, sloppy and hot, tongues everywhere, teeth pressing each other’s bottom lip harshly, caring little to nothing about hurting.

You whimpered with the feeling of him filling you so good, going deeper and deeper each passing second. When he finally buried himself completely, a groan got lost in between your kisses, and he kept still while you adjusted, though it was extremely hard to wait when you tightened your walls so perfectly around him.

“You– You feel so good,” he muttered against your lips, voice weak, losing himself in the feeling with his face contorting in pure pleasure as he licked and sucked your bottom lip, asking for more kisses.

The wording and how he said it got you clenching more and Jake felt it right away, your eyes fluttering close as he didn’t hold back and started thrusting on you slowly. He was so deep and intense on you, yet deliberate, a pacing you would curse if you weren’t enjoying that much.

A soft knock on your bedroom door interrupted the blissful moment, panic instantly taking over your faces as you widened your eyes and gasped, instinctively covering your mouth with your hand.

“Shit,” you whispered, looking at the closed door over Jake’s shoulder, your heart beating loud inside your chest.

You never prayed so hard for a door to be locked.

“Y/N?” Jay calmy called out from the other side.

“Answer him.” Jake whispered demandingly against your cheek, enjoying it a bit too much for your liking, especially because if you two got caught, it wasn’t just you who would get screwed.

His eyes scanned your expression, how heavy was your breathing, how bright with fear your eyes shone, although there was a thick layer of pleasure not hiding your enjoyment of the situation.

“Yeah?” You tried your hardest to sound steady and not stained, but it became a difficult mission when Jake was pushing himself even deeper within each deliberate roll, clearly searching to hit your sensitive spot.

“Are you alright? Did Jake leave already?”

Your eyes darted over to Jake, who was keeping the grind slow, painfully slow. You arched an eyebrow, not saying a word as you waited for the man on top of you to decide if he was going to lie to his best friend or not.

Jake smirked.

“No, I’m still here,” he kind of shouted, biting his bottom lip to contain a whimper when you tugged his hair at the same time you squeezed him with your walls. After realizing his weakness of having his locks being pulled, you started to use it as an advantage. “And she’s fine, we’re–” he interrupted himself because of the quiet moan that escaped your parted lips, forehead resting on yours, the fear of being heard creeping stronger, fueling, feeding his arousal to the extreme. “We’re wrapping things up.”

Jake managed to let it out in one go, luckily and supposedly believable enough for Jay not to try open the door or ask any of you to do it.

“Oh, um, okay… I just finished my work,” Jay said casually. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Oh, great. Jay’s room. The one next door.

“Alright, bro,” Jake was the only one able to speak, especially because you had now your teeth pressing on his shoulders as a way to keep yourself quiet. “See you in a few, then.”

You two not-so-patiently waited for the sound of Jay’s footsteps to fade far enough down the hall before continuing, Jake’s eyes filled with teasing when he looked back at you and immediately started to faster his thrusts, taking in from your instant response of curving your back with lips parted, the slightest moan escaping from them.

“Shh, baby girl. Don’t make any noises, yeah?” Jake whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning your skin. With the way his fingertips traced softly your thighs, only to harshly grip into your flesh and pound deeper, you couldn’t hold back your whimper, wincing. “Shh…” He shushed again, an obvious smirk adorning his plump lips that now rested on your swollen ones, his low voice causing your whole body to feel like on fire, skin tingling in despair.

You wanted to scream his name so bad.

“J–Jake…” You moaned underbreath, struggling to keep it quiet. Jake chuckled, amused by your reckless behavior.

“Do you want your brother to hear us, sweetheart?” He asked, filthy, feigning a mocking tone. “I don’t think he’d like to know how deep into you I’m in right now.”

With that, he thrusted once more, hitting your sweet spot right away. You nearly cried as you threw your head back, walls clenching around his dick furiously, fingernails sinking into his flesh, back arching.

Jake grinned, in complete awe with your surrendered, fucked up form, wishing so bad to be able to get more of you – your screams, your whimpers, you chanting his name, anything. He just knew you would sound even hotter.

“Such a dirty little girl. Dying for someone to hear us, huh?”

“N–No…” You whined, pathetically shaking your head and softly smacking his shoulder as you got lost in yourself. You felt your body starting to convulse as Jake kept on hitting your g-spot over and over, barely noticing he had his forehead resting on yours again, his hard breathing blowing harshly on your face. “Can’t– So big–”

You rolled your eyes with the speed of Jake’s hips increasing. He wanted to go harder and faster, but the slapping sounds were already growing too loud, teetering the edge of getting caught a bit too much. Not to mention the blend of quiet moans, whimpers and groans you both exchanged in between pants and messy kisses.

Within minutes Jake felt the coil on his stomach tightening, his release was near and by the way you started to sound desperate, you were close too.

“I’m not gon’ last much longer, pretty,” Jake hissed when you wrapped your legs around his hips and pushed him deeper, helping him to maintain the rhythm of his thrusts. “Fuck...”

You fluttered your eyes open – didn’t even remember when you had closed it – right on time to catch a glimpse of Jake’s necklace dangling close to your face as he propped himself up to ease his pushes, his sweaty hair part sticking to his forehead, part hanging down, grazing softly on your nose.

The overwhelming feeling of Jake’s burying himself deep into you, filling up each centimeter inside your cunt, his scent all over your senses, his sweet and hot silent moans, the way he had a pleasant frown gracing his features, every now and then biting his lip.

You felt your orgasm building up in a delightful, electrifying wave that flushed your trembling body.

“I wanna–”

“Come to me, baby,” Jake urged you, his own climax teetering the edge, voice cracking. “Wan’ feel you creaming my cock.”

A mild louder noise escaped your lips as you shivered, legs shaking with the amount of pressure your body was releasing. Jake bursted right after your juices coated his length, stuffing you up with his warm seed.

Your heavy breaths filled the room for a while. Jake’s tired body pressing against yours within an intimacy that made your heart flutter, realization hitting that you just had fucked your crush, who just happened to be your brother’s best friend.

You closed your eyes, a sting of a bittersweet feeling growing inside your chest.

“We still need to talk.”

The talk never really happened, since the constant visits unfolded your relationship with Jake better than you expected.

It seemed to be a no strings attached type of relationship, with you and Jake kissing and fucking anytime you had the chance to in between your tutoring classes.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty, and foolish to some extent, because tasting Jake's body and mouth awakened the same feelings of love you once buried deep within you, feelings that you now had to bury again, fully aware that they weren’t nearly reciprocated.

Jake probably saw you as woman he could fuck, and you thought you could live with that.

Your encounters with Jake became as usual as your classes, and gratefully Jay obliviousness blinded him from the real thing happening under his roof, because in no world you would need everyday physics lessons, even with your tough relationship with it.

At some point you started to believe that your tactics to restrain yourself around Jake had been perfected.

When Jake changed his behavior with you, avoiding you at parties and the other events where you both accidentally crossed paths, Jay never suspected a thing. First, because he knew how busy Jake was with his work, and second, because he believed friendships were flexible and often riddled with uncontrollable nuances – meaning, you and Jake were simply going through a phase where things weren’t aligning.

It became routine to pretend you were still in the same cycle, with Jake acting as a casual friend who was just helping you with your studies enough to pass the course.

Jay had no idea you had promised Jake that you would only let him eat you out if you aced your exams – although you would let him do it anyway.

It was just so fun to watch him throw tantrums at you, whining how much he needed to feel your cunt pulsing and dripping on his tongue. You couldn’t deny the excitement of receiving a head from Jake was big; the way he kissed you and how high bridged his nose was, were enough proof that he would do a hell of a job.

As the semester was reaching its end, your anxiety grew.

You felt secure in most of your subjects, because even though Jake was actively present in your life, you managed to find out time to focus on your individual studies and felt confident enough in them.

But then there was physics.

The one you were supposedly studying, locked in the room with Jake. The one you learned while feeling the heat of his body against yours, his soft whispers, groans in your ear as his hands explored every centimeter of your skin.

It was undeniable that Jake's practical method worked wonders, and that was exactly why you took the lead and suggested that for that day's study session.

“You wanna do what?”

You and Jake were sitting across each other in your room: Jake on your bed and you at your desk chair. He had just arrived for your tutoring of the day and you immediately greeted him with a suggestion that had him with the most dumbfounded, in disbelief, shocked kind of expression written all over his face.

“Suck you off while you explain the basics of that shit,” you repeated yourself casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Quantum.” Jake pointed, his eyebrows skyhigh at that point.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling innocently while playing with a pen and wiggling your legs off the chair.

“You want me to teach you the basics of quantum physics while you suck me off?” He echoed, still trying to completely comprehend your proposal.

“That’s exactly what I just said.”

It was an undeniable proposal, right?

Jake blinked, his brain falling into a dangerous short-circuit. To imagine you, kneeled in front of him, his dick buried deep in your throat, free-fucking would be his wettest dream come true.

However, there was a big chance of him losing control of his sounds – and himself – the very moment your pretty lips wrapped around his dick, tongue playing with his sensitive length as your gorgeous doe eyes looked up to him.

Jake damned himself for getting hard just by the thought of it.

“And how does that help you… Practically talking?”

He was really trying to logical think and follow your thought process, shifting on his seat while his mind traveled away.

The whole fucking while studying was a thing not only because you both wanted it to happen, but mostly because Jake could partially dodge the creeping guilt, knowing his work was getting done, even if that meant him shoving his dick inside you while doing so – a win-win situation with his peculiar, yet effective technic.

With that particular request, he couldn’t quite pinpoint where the logic leaned, triggering his mind to wonder if you were getting dangerously close to crossing the unspoken line that came with your agreement.

Jake’s eyes tracked as you stood up and walked close to him, casually sitting on his lap, arms naturally wrapping around his shoulders.

“Well…” You trailed off, fingers slowly and shamelessly drawing a soft line across his chest, feeling his breath hitching beneath your touch; your eyes dropping to a darker shade of lust, shifting the whole atmosphere. “Hearing your moaning voice would… Y’know, help me internalize it,” you smirked, letting each word teasingly hang in the thick air.

Jake’s eyes narrowed with a spark of intrigue, head tilting slightly as he searched for a hint of humor or mischief in your gaze that would give away your plan. But you held his stare, unwavering, eyes burning with a confidence that left no room for doubt, no suggestion of play.

“So…” He murmured within a gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing drawing your attention briefly. “You’d remember the explanation… Because I’m…”

“Moaning it.”

The wording left your lips light as a feather, yet as sultry as the taste of the finest wine – tempting, subtle, delicious. Jake leaned in, failing to ignore your bait, his jaw clenching as his grip on your waist tightened; a quiet curse escaped him, underbreath, the moment you busied your lips on his sensitive neck.

“Fuck…”

You rolled your hips just slightly, teasing a touch you wouldn’t be giving to him. Not so easily.

“What do you say, mhm?” You kissed Jake’s jawline, his chin, the tip of his nose and then his plush lips.

There was something about the way he kissed you back, deliberate and tender, as if you were everything he waited for his whole life.

After days of sharing intimacy, you began to notice that sometimes Jake kissed you like a lover that long dreamed of you – mouthful and yearning, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Like a soft breeze fanning your skin on a warm summer afternoon – comfortable enough to make you sigh, yet stirring something deep. Like the glow of the sun fading beneath the horizon at dusk – beautiful, fleeting, and full of possibilities. Like a first lover – fear of losing the sight of you and unforgettable.

Jake kissed you like he was slowly allowing himself to fall in love with you. And you didn’t know yet, but he was.

Each attach of lips elicited new waves of euphoria through your veins as your feelings emerged without a proper warning, kicking the front door of your heart open and making a delightful mess.

You couldn’t help the strong pump of your heart and the flutter on your stomach the moment Jake crossed your sight. How thrilled you got when scheduling your meets, not caring about the studying neither the fucking; eager to kiss, to hug, just to have Jake close.

In that very moment you wished, more than ever, for him to feel the same way. You could sense the desire in his every touch, in the way his body pressed flush to yours, demonstrating how much he needed you, how much he was losing himself in you, like magnets.

You could feel it in the way his hands roamed, the warmth of his touch, the intensity in his gaze. It was tangible, undeniable. Jake wanted you. But was it enough? Did Jake want more than just a moment, or was it just an ephemeral passion, burning brightly before fading into memory like ashes?

On the other hand, Jake’s mind slipped into a haze, zoning out while drowning deeper in the warm and cozy ocean that was you.

He found himself lost in the memory of your first kiss – fueled by a mixture of fear and excitement. Not the fear of being caught, but the terror of realizing he had already fallen too intensely, his entire being consumed by the intoxicating pull of you. And he did nothing, nothing to fight back or to swim back to the top, utterly, willingly under your spell.

You had him wrapped around your fingers from the moment you first crossed paths at that party.

Jake had tried to keep his safe distance, as a way of respecting your brother’s implicit boundaries and you, the little girl he grew up with. But mainly because he was completely aware that once he succumbed to the temptation of you, there would be no turning back.

When you both embarked on this brand new journey of friends with benefits, Jake knew that he could end up losing himself more than he should.

He believed you deserved to be treated like a queen – to be adored and desired as the most precious thing in the world. And he could be that person if you allowed him to.

But it was as clear as crystal water that you didn’t see him in that way. Not when you withdrew from acts of intimacy, not when you pulled back as the kiss grew too passionate, too full of love, not when you showed that you weren’t ready to take another step forward together.

Jake didn’t mind being used for your pleasure, not at all. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement: you got your physics lessons and some good orgasms, and he got to have you for a brief moment, just long enough to satisfy the hunger he felt. Then he would return, craving more, locked in a cycle he knew all too well, hoping his excuses of giving extra hours of teaching would be enough to keep you by his side just a little bit more.

That first taste had done more than ignite a flame; it had marked him, like a brand, leaving him completely, irrevocably at your mercy. Jake was yours. You just didn’t know yet.

That one kiss lingered painful longer than any other. When you finally pulled away, your breath came in short bursts and you were unsure whether it was the intensity of his touch or how quickly your heartbeats increased in such a short span of time.

Jake wore a lovestruck expression that had your body responding immediately – heat spreading through your chest, leaning forward, wanting more of whatever he had to offer.

“You pull me like magnets, you know that?” Jake casually and suddenly dropped in, voice barely above a whisper but thick with something unfamiliar to you so far, something that got your stomach fluttering with an emotion you didn’t want to name yet, scared of being real.

You swallowed down your immediate reaction, trying to regulate your breath while being torn between letting your heart follow along or keeping your feet on the ground, afraid of reading too much into that unusual moment that was just starting to unfold before you.

“That’s not today’s subject,” you managed to mutter back, a tinge of anguish holding onto your voice as your eyes traced Jake’s handsome features.

You could lose yourself in him for hours and never grow tired. He had the most perfect face, soft puppy brown eyes filled with sincerity, prominent cheekbones that constantly shone brighter when he was smiling big, showing off his pretty dental arch with the slightest curl at the end of his plush lips. His sharp figure juxtaposed perfectly with the softness of his nature. Sweet, tender, endlessly loving.

For you, it was effortless to fall for Sim Jaeyun.

“When would it be, then?”

Jake had gathered all his strength and courage to throw that question at you, wavering just a little when you answered with a dumbfounded frown and a quiet “What?”.

“When the fact that you pull me like magnets, opposites but still ridiculously attracting me towards you, would be the subject?” He asked, his hands pressing harder on your hips as if he was trying to ground himself out of his nervousness, as if he was struggling to not falter.

You arched an eyebrow, an unconscious smile creeping on your mildly swollen lips as your breath hitched. Before you could reply with another question, Jake continued, making it difficult to keep thinking coercively, since each of his words traveled straight into your heart.

“‘Cuz, pretty, it’s pathetic,” he chuckled as softly as his voice came out, head leaning to the side. “When I’m with you I feel like I’m a particle in motion, constantly accelerating in pure devotion,” Jake's orbs were so, so filled with softness and fondness as he kept on saying. One of his hands cupped your cheek and he brushed your lower lip. “You make me feel like I’m at the center of a black hole. No matter how much I try to escape, I’m just pulled deeper into your gravity.”

With that you giggled, head being thrown back as the flustered heat creeped on your cheeks quickly, your eyes briefly flickering away from Jake’s loving ones for a moment before glazing into them again, this time intensely exposing your vulnerable side.

You finally lowered your guard, allowing those same feelings you had been nurturing for years to come into the light to face the beautiful, thrilling possible outcome.

“Did you just confess your feelings for me using physics metaphors, Sim Jaeyun?” You asked with a playful glint in your eyes and a teasing smile that had Jake nuzzling his flustered face on your neck, holding back his own shy smile within a bit on his lower lip.

“Yes. I, indeed, did,” he muffled against your skin, making you shiver a bit.

Your heart vibrated with pure, unexpected joy. Your afternoon had a turn you weren’t waiting for, but now that it did, relief flooded your senses. Jake had feelings for you too.

Another giggle escaped your lips. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined Jake confessing his feelings to you, let alone as you sat on his lap, sharing intimacy and knowing you were the ultimate reason for his body to be so reactive. Couldn’t be more perfect, everything seemed too good to be true.

With a light lean back, enough to pull Jake away from your embrace, your eyes dropped to drink in his perfectly drawn full lips. The air shifted, this time, not only with a momentary lushness or vague desire how it used to be, but carried with a ton of something close to love as well.

You rolled your hips and Jake groaned, sensitive to you already.

“So,” you purred, your teeth sank into your bottom lip, a mischievous grin tugging the corner of your mouth as you pushed yourself forward, making Jake’s heart flutter as his back encountered the soft mattress of your bed. “Does my pretty physics boy want me to suck him off while he lays down or…?”

Jake’s body instantly winced with the way your eyes darkened and how velvety your voice came out of your gorgeous lips; the nickname didn’t go unnoticed either, causing his dick to twitch inside his pants.

Your touch feathery, yet trailing flames through his covered chest stirred up the deepests feelings he used to hide. Jake took in your reaction as a quiet yes or maybe a subtle “me too”. Knowing your nature so far, you would rather give him a head, as in a taste of your affection, than admitting out loud you liked him back.

Little did he know you were on the verge of panic, fighting the urge of shying away because, although he just confessed to you, you felt pathetically nourishing feelings way more intense towards him, with your heart pounding loud and unsteady and an overwhelming ache not-so-quietly overtaking your being.

You craved to give Jake your everything, to devour every centimeter of him if that meant being close – closer than words alone could ever take you. There were no syllables together to form a proper sentence that showed a quarter of what it felt to love Jake.

“I– I honestly don’t know…” Jake murmured as soft as fluffy clouds, contrasting your demeanor at that moment, with your lips now placing slow and soft kisses all over the sensitive flesh of his neck.

You chuckled when Jake started to squirm a little, his hands nervously gripping on your ass and quiet moans escaping his lips as you took your time to enjoy his warmth with your mouth. There was something so arousing about how Jake was always reactive to your touches, either the lightest or the more intense ones, his body clearly faltering deliciously under your control. It made your panties wet quite instantly.

When you started to nibble that same area, you also felt Jake bucking his hips upwards, as a way to get some friction to satisfy his neglected dick. Jake was very sensitive on his neck and didn’t have to admit it out loud; the fact that he was getting harder and harder underneath you was enough to show it.

His puppy eyes lighted up with an adorable blender of curiosity and excitement under your piercing gaze when you lifted yourself to straddle, knees on each side of his hips. The same gaze roamed his whole clothed body as if you could see through it, ravishing each small portion with adoration.

Jake had an extra cute and confused expression taking over his face when you suddenly stood up and let him go out of the warmness of your body, a playful grin dancing on your lips as you softly tapped his thigh before saying.

“Get comfy, Jakey,” there was a thick layer of desire on your voice blended with a hint of mischievousness that got Jake’s dick throbbing while he did as you said, propping himself on his elbows to properly lay on your bed.

You positioned yourself on top of him again, smiling cheekily as you lowered your face just enough to purr against his ear, your hot breath making him wince. “Cuz I’m about to make you forget your own name.”

The way Jake’s eyes widened after hearing your non-filtered filthy words had you giggling, his Adam’s apple attractively bobbing up and down as he swallowed, your lips attaching to it because you truly wanted to devour Jake as whole.

“But Jay–” He tried to reason with you, his hands betraying his rational side as he intensified the grip on your ass once again, pulling you down so he could rut against you; his pants growing uncomfortably tighter each passing second.

“Shh,” you shushed him, gently pressing a finger on his plump lips before shaking your head. “He’s not home,” you added, planting a few kisses along his neck, jawline and lastly on his lips, propping yourself up on your arms, one on each side of Jake’s head.

A low moan escaped Jake at the sight of your fierce, determined gaze, fearing he wouldn’t be able to handle whatever you had prepared in your mind. You stared at him like a predator about to strike a prey, and damn, you looked so unbelievably sexy doing it.

“It’s just the two of us.”

Just for a few brief moments, he thought, considering adding. But you seemed more unwavering than ever to follow through with your plan, and honestly? Jake didn’t care anymore.

Not when you slowly stripped him down until only his underwear remained. Not when you were kissing and licking every centimeter of his chest and abdomen, your enchanting eyes giving innocent, pure glances that contrasted sharply with your every move. Not when he could feel your hands deliberately exploring every part of his warm skin, leaving trails of burning desire that were far too overwhelming for him to remain still.

When you paused at the waistband of his underwear, all Jake could do was breathe heavily, bite his lip, and watch you expectantly, his airways feeling like closing as you finally gave him the freedom he needed.

“You have such a beautiful and big cock, Jakey,” you hummed with a smirk, tongue wetting your lips as you felt your mouth watering. Jake groaned when you grabbed the base and started pumping it, painful slowly, smearing the leaking precum to lubricate. “I’d love to feel it down my throat.”

And without a warning or leaving him to properly think about your words, you gave a long, savoring lick of his veiny length just to suck at the tip, eliciting an immediate moan within a thrust forward searching for more contact.

You kept swiping your tongue across his throbbing hardened dick, always finishing with a pop on the very end, and when you felt like your spit and his arousal had coated it enough to ease your movements, you opened your mouth wide to take him whole, each centimeter causing Jake’s body to tremble and his voice to falter in between his groans.

When you had your nose bumping his lower stomach, you stood still, feeling Jake’s hands caressing your hair kindly. You had to use your everything to remember to breathe with your nose, especially when the view of Jake’s head being thrown on the pillow as he, himself, struggled to regulate his own breathing was unfolding right before your eyes.

Jake's body at that point was flaming hot, sweat dripping onto his forehead while his free hand clutched the sheet in a way to keep him sane, though your warm cavity embracing his dick, up and down, was leaving no room to maintain the silence.

“Fuck, baby–” His voice was hoarse, consumed by the indescribable sensation of the way you took him so pleasurably, so skillfully, so delightfully. “T–Taking me so well…”

He waved his hips just slightly with his hands still on your head, bucking against your throat and unintentionally making you gag. He didn’t feel sorry at all, not when you kept on your pace, barely giving a thought about it, even stirring a muffled moan out of you.

A choked whimper escaped Jake’s swollen lips as he felt your throat pressing against his sensitive tip again. It was bizarre how it seemed like you had been molded just for him, and only him. Jake wanted you in every possible way and was grateful because you seemed to want him just as desperately.

You increased the rhythm little by little with hollow cheeks, giving some more attention with your mouth to Jake’s reddened tip, tongue pressing at the slit every once and a while as your hands worked on the base and his balls.

There was a thin string of morality that held Jake in reality, preventing him from moaning your name – though he wanted so badly to –, but he couldn’t help the following whimpers and small cries that left his throat, the flutter on his stomach indicating he was getting closer.

You noticed it almost right away after so many moments together. Jake always started to whine in between his noises and his body would shake within each minimal stimulus, squirming like he was growing desperate. So you quickly repositioned yourself, supporting your weight with your arms on the bed and staying still, eyes blinking expectantly at Jake, waiting.

“Why did you stop–” Jake cut himself when he propped his head up from the pillow to look at you, another half-choked groan slipping out his parted lips when he caught the view. “Don’t tell me you want me to…”

You nodded, still waiting. Jake chuckled, in pure disbelief and desire, because you just had held yourself with your tongue poking out of your mouth, expecting him to simply throat-fuck you.

The way you were just… staring, patiently idling until Jake had your hair threaded through his slender fingers to finally move was an extremely alluring, sultry sight.

“You have no idea of how sexy you look right now,” he muttered under his breath, lowering your head while resting on his free elbow, because there was no way in hell he would lose the enticing scene you were just about to give him.

Jake didn’t know he would be able to endure much longer of that treatment you were giving him, his body extra sensitive as he bobbed your head up and down his cock; free using your body for his own pleasure sounded a lot out of his league and he took a mental note to repay later.

It took just seconds in that new position for you to have Jake rolling his eyes back with his mouth falling open, a quiet moan escaping as he speeded up his hands on your head before forcing you all the way down, pressing the tip of his throbbing cock on your throat while the thick ropes of his release filed straight down your throat.

You kept steady, motioning the swallowing movement to ride Jake through his high; it felt amazing to have him shaking in between random waves underneath you, soft whines coming out of his parted lips while the grip on your hair tightened.

As soon as he loosened the said grasp, you finally removed his now a bit softened cock out of your mouth, kissing it briefly before moving up to settle yourself on Jake’s chest.

“That was insane,” he whispered in between small pants, involving you with his arms. You cared little to nothing about his sweat sticking to you, knowing you both would have to take a quick bath before Jay got home.

“I know,” you replied back with a grin, looking at him and kissing his lips with passion, now free from your own fears’ restraints.

You used to avoid sharing too many intimate moments with Jake, the aftercare barely happening due to your constant excuses to run away, scared of falling deeper into something you couldn’t really grasp at. Not until that day.

It felt great to experience such loving touches without having to run away – light as sweet breeze fanning your face, your heart pounded in joy inside your chest, stomach fluttering with dancing butterflies.

You suddenly giggled, parting the kiss to glance at Jake with your adorable, playful eyes. He shot you back a tender gaze, waiting for your following words.

“You didn’t teach me about quantum,” you quirked an eyebrow and Jake immediately widened his eyes in panic.

“Oh, shit.”

You laughed at his dramatic reaction, at how he wanted to leave the bed to grab his clothes and try to use the last minutes of your tutoring session to teach you anything.

“Calm down, big boy,” you pulled him back. “Jay’s probably not even at home yet.”

As if you had summoned him, a knock on your door got you and Jake startled.

“Y/N?”

Both of your bodies tensed immediately. With a jolt, Jake was rushing over to get his clothes from the floor and wear them as quickly as possible while you frantically patted down your hair and smoothed the wrinkled fabric of your shirt, wiping away any hint of lingering fluids from the corner of your mouth.

“Coming!” You shouted, hurrying towards the door.

You cleared your throat, giving a final, stealthy glance over your shoulder to make sure Jake was, thankfully, no longer naked. When you opened the door, you greeted Jay with an overly bright, oh-so-forced smile, praying he would buy your attempt at casualness.

“Hi!”

“…Is everything alright? I heard some noises. It sounded like someone was in pain…” he replied, his brows knitting in concern.

“Uh…” Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened comically, your brain nearly visibly overheating, struggling to process an acceptable explanation.

You could closely feel Jake’s gaze burning on your back as the realization that Jay might have heard pretty much everything.

“It was me!” Jake interjected, cutting through the awkward silence with an impressive smoothness. “I, uh, stubbed my toe on Y/N’s bed frame when I was heading to the bathroom,” he added with a sheepish chuckle.

“Oh,” Jay replied, nodding with an air of understanding that sent a wave of relief through your tense shoulders, your smile naturally coming back to your face. “That makes sense.”

However, Jake was naive enough to notice how his best friend’s eyes dropped briefly, as if scanning you two, a faint, knowing look flashing across his face before he added with a small, friendly smile

“I’ll leave you two. Don’t wanna interrupt your… Studies.”

“Thanks!” You were quick to answer. Almost too quick. “We’re almost finished!” Your voice was stained enough to raise suspicions but you opted to ignore it.

As the door clicked shut, Jake exhaled with a low mutter, his fingers scratching through his hair. “I think he knows.”

“What!?” You exasperated, though trying to maintain your voice low. “There’s no way!”

Jake’s lips curled in a fond smile as he studied your adorable disbelief expression, hands finding comfort on your waist. For someone who just had partially sucked his soul out of his body through his cock, you were acting a bit almost innocent. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease you, his fingers drawing circles on your hips.

“Did you really think he bought that excuse?” he chuckled softly, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Of course he did!” You stomped your foot, crossing your arms.

Jake's hands slid from your waist just to gently unfold your arms, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you closer.

“I wish you were right, pretty girl, but I don’t think we’ve convinced him this time,” Jake said and sighed, your cheeks warming when he used a finger to tuck a strand of your messy hair on your ear. Your pout deepened and Jake giggled. “Who the hell moans when getting hurt, sweetheart?” He murmured, his voice soft, but his lips twitched in a playful smirk.

“I mean,” you started, flustered but trying to be reasonable, “there are probably people who–” Jake cut you off with a quick peck on your lips, startling you into silence as your protest dissolved into a surprised smile. The sweetness of the gesture caught you off guard, and a good warmth bloomed in your chest.

Definitely you would have to get used to that.

“I don’t think he bought it, pretty,” Jake eyes traced over your features, his smile lingering longer as he studied each part of it. He caressed your cheek, brushing your bottom lip before kissing you, a delicious shiver running down your spine as he did so. “But it’s fine, yeah? We’ll figure out something.”

The woman staring back at you in the mirror was expressing everything but “I’m casually going to study.” Sure, you had chosen a chill outfit, taking advantage of the sweet autumn breeze to wear one of your cozy sweaters, but you had left your legs bare, pairing it with a short skirt that framed your thighs perfectly. Perfectly enough to drive Jake insane.

It was amusing, thrilling even to see how he now reacted so openly, nearly pathetically to your provocations. Anytime you found yourselves in a safe space – mainly your room or the living room when you were absolutely sure Jay wasn’t home – Jake would unleash a stream of shameless obscenities adoring you, his hungry gaze devouring your body without a care in the world. It always earned a laugh from you before you both gave in to the heat of the moment, leading to a long, intense kiss.

Today, you didn’t know for certain if Jay was home, and frankly you didn’t want to find out either. If he was, he would probably see you and question where you were going, an endearing yet slightly overprotective habit of his. So, you walked through the house as quietly as possible, practically on tiptoes, hoping he had been held up at work or had gone out with his friends, as he usually did on Fridays.

The evening was just setting in, and Jake had mentioned earlier that Sunghoon and Heeseung were going out that night, which was the main reason you had felt comfortable enough to head over – freedom. And, admittedly, because your finals were starting next week, and you genuinely wanted to review a few things with him, even – and luckily – if that meant to have his breathy moans brushing against your ear as he fucked you dumb.

With your nervous eyes hovering the apartment in search of anything that resembled your brother’s presence, you finally reached the door, clicking it open with a relieved sigh.

However, fate had other plans for you.

“Where are you going?”

You startled and stopped immediately on your tracks, turning in your heels with an awkward smile to see Jay standing near the dinner room door frame with a confused expression. You had forgotten that he normally sat there while working on boring stuff on his phone sometimes, where he could definitely see you passing by.

“Um... To Jake's.” You quietly told. “Y’know, my exams start on Monday, so…”

Jay arched an eyebrow, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as his eyes roamed your body, his frown deepening within each passing second. Now you damned yourself for choosing such a short skirt.

With a brief nod after his silent inspection, he muttered. “Ok.”

You squinted, tilting your head, your expression shifting to something almost investigative as you struggled to read Jay's reaction – a calmness that felt almost unsettling, like the lull before the storm. You half-expected him to ask dozens of questions, and the fact he didn’t got you wavering, stomach twisting in a bitter anticipation.

“Okay…?” you echoed, waiting for… something more.

“Yeah, have fun.” He replied, shrugging slightly, hands being buried deep in his front pockets. “I mean, it’s physics. You can’t really have fun with that,” he teased, but at the same time, you felt weird, like there was something more to it.

“Um, right,” you nodded, forcing a tense, small smile. “Definitely can’t.”

The words lingered in the air between you two, the air dense as volcano smokes; a volcano you trusted wouldn't erupt soon. Or at least you deeply hoped for it.

After a quick goodbye, you headed to Jake’s house, having to deal with your stomach aching in nervousness after your brief interaction with Jay. You truly wished for your brother to be oblivious enough not to suspect anything more than he already had, nonetheless you and Jake weren’t being that cautious about your ongoing relationship.

On the other side, the said man was patiently waiting for your arrival. He had just declined Heeseung and Sunghoon’s invitation to hang out as they usually did on Fridays, trying to sound as casual as possible when explaining you would be there soon to finish your studies, since you had exams the next week.

Bullshit.

Jake was playing with fire. Taunting the devil. Flirting with danger. Whatever.

He had a vain certainty that Jay was suspecting your relationship with him, especially after the last encounter in your room where your brother’s eyes shifted briefly into something close to understanding beyond what he had seen.

Still, Jake called you over, praying for the best outcome instead of facing whatever consequences Jay would make him go through once he finds out he has been sleeping with his little sister.

Jake wasn’t an only child, however, having an older brother didn’t do much to help him in portraying being in your place.

Of course he would go insane if he had a little sister and she started to screw around with a friend of his, especially if she tried to hide it. But Jake didn’t plan to be the asshole type, to use your body for his own satisfaction and discard you once he got bored, never. He couldn’t even create a thought about leaving you at that point. His heart beat for you, and you only.

You became an important part of his life throughout the past weeks, months even. Since the moment you both allowed and agreed to the friends-with-benefits arrangement and it had evolved into something much deeper. Now, Jake found himself nurturing strongest feelings for you; it wasn’t only about the curves of your body, the smoothness of your skin, the longing to have you all over him, no.

Jake could easily say he had fallen in love with you.

It was crazy how you got him wrapped around his finger – both abstractly and practically –, as if it was such an easy task to do.

Life with you was way more interesting and enjoyable. Jake could spend hours fucking you, yes, definitely. But nothing compared to having your body snuggled against his, the shared warmth leaving no room for anxiety, tiredness or sorrow.

After a tough day, all Jake wanted was to be with you, cuddling while receiving your shower of kisses and hearing your giggles as you did so.

Jake fell deeply in love with every part of your personality: how determined you overall were and especially when it was about to win him over, how rational yet emotional you could be, how genuine and at the same time assertive you expressed yourself when talking about your hobbies.

Acts of service were your primary love language, and Jake loved how you put in effort to express affection in such a thoughtful way, since the shared routine made it extra hard to ease your side.

Taking care of his tired body after he stayed on top of you for quite a long time, giving him water and cleaning him whole. Bringing his favorite coffee whenever he stopped to pick you up from college.

When you both actually studied, you didn’t just listen to his explanations; you appreciated the effort he put into making even the most complex topics easy to understand. But more than that, you always did your best to make him feel comfortable. Whether it was adjusting the air conditioning when you saw him shivering or sweating, or quietly flipping the pages of the textbook when you noticed he had finished reading the last paragraph, your attention to detail never went unnoticed.

On a random day, Jake reached into his back pocket and found a small note you had quietly slipped there. It was a sweet declaration, simple but meaningful, words that reflected everything you didn’t always say out loud.

He knew that you worked best through actions, but the note reminded him of the affection that was always present in every little thing you did.

The sound of the doorbell ringing had Jake jumping off the couch, eager to greet you. As the door swung open, he gave you no chance to breathe, pulling you closer to lessen the longing of the warmth of your body, his lips crashing onto yours with a fervor that told you everything you needed to know for now.

“Hi– To you– Too!–” You tried to mumble against the kiss, giggling at how desperate Jake was behaving while stumbling on your legs as you entered the house, struggling to follow his messy lead.

“Want you.” He whispered as a vain explanation, guiding you both to his room without a care in the world.

With a blink of a second your half-closed eyes caught his deep frown, and your smile faltered while your body tensed straightaway. It triggered a strange feeling in your chest to perceive Jake’s urgency. You sensed something was off, weird even; you had just left home under Jay's analytical gaze, knowing you were hiding a huge secret from him, one he could be absurdly close to discovering – or maybe he already had. Now, with Jake’s unforeseen demeanor, if you forced yourself hard enough to connect the dots, you would say the man kissing you was holding some information back.

Or atleast holding something back.

“Wait, wait–” You tried to break the sloppy kiss by pushing Jake’s chest lightly, away enough to attempt to pry an explanation out of him without his mouth devouring yours. “What happened?”

Jake’s eyes roamed your concerned face briefly, a flicker of hesitation flashing before he smiled tenderly. His hands on your hips pressed the area ever so mildly, as though he fought a way to anchor him, as if he suddenly started fearing to lose your touch.

You didn’t buy his smile.

“Can’t a man miss his woman?”

His woman.

Though the manner of addressing you had your heart swirling in a sweet, thrilling carousel and your cheeks warming up, you couldn’t help the growing bittersweetness slowly and painfully swallowing your entire being.

“Yes, you can,” you didn’t hold back your half-smile before your eyes softened, nearly teetering a probing, piercing one as your hands softly caressed Jake’s face. “But I feel like there’s something more.”

Jake’s breath hitched, not due to how intense he was kissing you just seconds ago, but mostly because you were so fucking right.

Jake had a problem sleeping last night after you confirmed you would visit him the next day. Excitement? No. Fear.

Inviting you over to his place felt like a way of grounding the relationship, making it real. Alongside the once-conflicted feelings that had now settled comfortably into love, there was the weight of responsibility to bring you into his world, to make it real for everyone, make it real to his best friend. To your brother.

Jake wasn’t exactly afraid of his friendship with Jay falling apart. Though hurtful, he for sure could find ways to live through it. He did worry about you. To Jay, you were family – true family, tied by blood. If things went wrong, you wouldn’t have the luxury of cutting ties; you would be forced to navigate whatever fallout happened. Jake hoped fervently that it wouldn’t come to that, that you wouldn’t have to face a harsh reality just because you both liked – loved – each other.

Yet, a new sense of resolve was rising within him, making him believe that no matter the outcome, he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side. Fighting for you felt easy. Making you happy was his ultimate goal.

Jake would cross oceans, move heaven and earth if that meant to stay with you.

So, you were right, because he was overthinking the possibility of telling Jay about your relationship. But before, there was going to be a relationship to begin with.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Jake caught on your body shifting and backing away a little, your breath stuttering, eyes widening, wavering before his proposal. He found himself panicking within a snap prior to your silence, cursing internally for letting his feelings take over and the question to escape his lips.

A bit longer. Just a bit longer he should have waited to understand where you stood emotionally when the subject was the two of you, because beyond considering your feelings, Jay was in the equation as well, difficulting the possibilities of the said relationship to blossom.

There was no coming back, though. The words flew out of his mouth, lingering in the air and weightening it as you quietly processed what you had just heard, wondering if you were tripping.

Jake gulped and immediately started to ramble, fumbling over his words with a voice that broke a bit once and a while as he did so, trying to cover up the angushing lack of noises between you both.

To some extent, Jake feared you would somehow hear his heart beating in panic.

“You don’t have to accept,” he began, his voice unsure, yet full of vulnerability. “I mean, we’re seeing each other almost everyday, and I really have feelings for you and maybe... Maybe you feel the same? For me?” He hesitated, puppy eyes wide and glistening with hope and desperation searching for any sign from you. He found nothing.

“L–Like, we’re having sex quite often and I like your company a lot,” he stammered. “I’d love to call you my girlfriend. I know there’s Jay and he’s your brother and he may not accept it, but I’m willing to–”

“Shut up.” You cut him off sharply by pressing a finger on his mouth.

A deep frown marked your forehead as you pondered thoughtfully, your gaze focusing on some random spot down the hallway behind Jake’s back, your mind racing.

Jake froze, eyes growing bigger at your reaction, his lips pursing together in a small, adorable pout that made your heart twist.

“Ok.”

You almost felt guilty for making him go through whatever was racing in his head; hearing his voice falter made your chest ache. At the same time, you couldn’t blame yourself, not when Jake had literally just asked you to be his girlfriend.

It was the question, the most important one of your life so far, the very one you had dreamed of hearing from him with his attractive Australian accent, nearly bordering a childish fantasy.

“Please, just say something…” Jake pleaded, voice cracking with anxiety. “Even if it’s a no…”

His words hit you like a wave crashing onto rocks. Your head snapped towards his direction, your wide eyes shooting a skeptical, confused glance, increasing his own confusion. Jake tilted his head to the side, just like a puppy, and then the realization hit.

“What?” You exclaimed, a hint of laughter tempting to burst out. “No! Babe, no…”

There was a clear layer of desperation on your voice now, as you shook your head frantically and sweetly placed countless kisses on Jake’s plump lips, cupping his face gently to keep him steady. He tried to ignore how his chest burned deliciously with the pet name.

“God, no, I’d never say no,” you muttered, his breath of relief fanning your face kindly, enough to ease your own heart. “I was just… Taken aback. I never expected my lifelong crush to ask me to be his girlfriend,” you giggled as you said, feeling a fluster creep up your neck towards your face.

Jake’s half-open eyes enjoyed the tenderness touch you showered him with, but then he suddenly dropped to something similar to confusion again, pulling back just slightly to look you in the eyes.

“Sorry, lifelong crush? Me?” His voice was a mix of disbelief and amusement.

You laughed again, the sound light and full of affection before you hid yourself on the crook of his perfumed neck; the scent easing your senses right away.

“Yes, you,” you mumbled, shyly. “You– You have been on my mind for quite a long time, Jaeyun,” to admit it out loud had you even more embarrassed, so you choose not to pinpoint precisely when. Not for now. Gladly, he didn’t push you as well. He would make the most of it later on.

“So…” He trailed off, pushing you off your hideout to offer you the most beaming expression you ever saw him having.

Jake was so, so gorgeous, with his wide, contagious smile, the soft curve at the ends framing it perfectly. Eyes sparkling with adoration, giving you the most tender and expectant look.

“Yes, Jake. I’d like to be your girlfriend.”

“Mhm,” he nodded, feigning a cool, relaxed demeanor you both knew wasn’t actually true, trying to hide the actual urge to jump like crazy behind a mischievous smirk. You arched an eyebrow, expectation growing slowly in your chest. “Where should I first take you as my girlfriend now?”

You giggled, biting your bottom lip with a naughty smile as you felt your heart palpitating harder; Jake would always be your crush after all. And to know you had him as your boyfriend only increased your arousal amidst the unfolding talk.

“How about your room, mhm?” A finger slowly traced his jawline, eyes dropping to something more intense. “Bet you have a lot of physics stuff in there, am I right?”

Jake laughed at your subtly mocking, yet naive words, especially because you both knew you weren’t wrong at all – and where that type of conversation would lead.

“Oh, you have no idea, darling,” he shot back, mirroring your tone as he pressed you back against his bedroom door, pushing it open with a deliberate motion. “Gotta show you how physics explains some… very special positions, yeah?”

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, since things with Jake usually escalated quickly once your lips met, but now he was hovering over you, his firm body pressing you into the bed, kissing you slowly and consumingly, as his fingers roamed over every centimeter of exposed skin.

You were well aware of how tempted Jake was by your legs – one of the reasons you had chosen that particular skirt – but you were uncertain if you would ever get used to how he grasped at you, his fingers digging in as though he needed to pull you closer, as if he desperately wanted to break the laws of physics and turn you both into one single body, occupying the same space.

Each time he rocked forward, grinding himself against you in search of any fleeting relief, waves of heat and excitement coursed through your veins straight to your core.

When a soft moan escaped, the noise vanished in between the heated touch and Jake lost composure. His mouth left yours only to travel lower, finding the sensitive line of your neck, lips pressing eagerly, his tongue tracing over the spots he knew would make you shiver, followed by a soft scrape of his teeth as he teased every weak point with deliberate care.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as your head fell back onto his pillow, granting him full access, your other hand tangling in the softness of his brown locks, gently tugging as his lips moved with purpose. But Jake’s impatience was hard to miss. He drifted down to your jawline, then lower, hands trying to slip beneath your sweater in an attempt to feel more of you.

“No,” you tugged his head back by his hair. “No, no, no. Listen, I get you’re excited and believe me, I am too, but–” You tried to speak between the sloppy kisses Jake continued planting along your jaw, a clear attempt to quiet you. “We have to study.”

“Please,” he breathed, a whine escaping him, not giving a care about how tight you gripped his strands, lowering himself, nuzzling his nose against the fabric of your sweater. “Please, I need you. I need to feel you.”

“We have to study.” You echoed what you just said and somehow it seemed to be rather to bring you back from the blissful lust than to take Jake away from it.

“Please,” with a plea, Jake locked his eyes onto yours, his voice thick with desperation.

You swallowed nothing as you saw deep, raw, intense desire once you met his gaze.

Jake had his two beautiful orbs oozing with craving, with need. His jaw was clenched, his features somewhat sharper under the dim light of his room. The sight nearly made you moan aloud, perhaps longing to have Jake between your legs more than him himself.

The blaze in your stomach increased as he leaned down slowly, fierce eyes still glazed onto yours, little by little decreasing the distance between his face and your still covered cunt, teasing to get under your skirt.

You knew exactly what Jake wanted. He had hinted at it so many times it was almost impossible not to relent. And yet, despite the power he somehow had over your decisions in moments like these, sending you easily into a haze of desire, you were a woman of your word.

“No,” you murmured, reluctantly pushing his head away and sitting up. “Do you remember our deal?”

Jake's gaze flickered, torn between your tempting thighs with the pretty skirt framing them perfectly and the inflexible expression on your face, the frustration evident. God, he could already picture himself getting lost in between your legs, your thighs squishing his head because he was pleasuring you so good. And preferably wearing the exact same skirt you wore.

“Fine,” he huffed, rolling his eyes like a scolded child. “Let’s study so you can ace that fucking exam.”

You bit back a grin as you read Jake’s pouty face, reaching over to grab the collar of his white shirt and pull his body onto yours one last time, starting a slow, savoring kiss. You sucked his bottom lip within a quiet smack sound as you drew back.

“Sorry, can’t help myself,” you muttered with a cheeky smile, eliciting a chuckle from Jake.

Your eyes tracked the motion of his tongue sweeping across his swollen, reddened lips, stealing any lingering remnant of your taste before standing on his foot.

“You’re trouble,” he said while offering you a hand. “And I like that.”

When he headed you over his desk, you smirked, ignoring the slap he gifted your ass with before sitting.

“So, sound waves, huh?” you purred, fingers tracing over the open page before looking up at him with a playful glint. “I’m curious how you’d explain it to me.”

Jake would always follow the same flow. He would start with you beside him, explaining the concepts from the book in simple terms, and you would initially go along, absorbing the material through the practical examples Jake offered so effortlessly.

But then your attention would start to drift – to the way his lips moved, the soft, deep resonance of his voice that seemed to echo through your entire body, the way his slender fingers moved as he gestured with every point he made... And soon, Jake would begin to lose his composure, deciding to take a far more hands-on approach to his “teaching.”

After a call from Jay asking what was taking so long for you to go home – an unusual demeanor that got goosebumps spreading over your skin – and a lame excuse that you were deeply focused on reviewing the materials for your exam, you ended up back on Jake’s bed, on all fours with his hardened, throbbing dick pounding fast into you.

“The louder you scream,” Jake thrusted deep, hitting your g-spot tirelessly, making you cry his name out just like he was saying. “The greater the amplitude of the sound waves. It carries more e–energy.”

“Fuck, Jake,” you rolled your eyes, though no one could actually see you doing that.

Your hands clutched the colorful sheets underneath you as a way to keep yourself sane, to maintain your conscience stable and grounded; you doubted you wouldn’t even remember your name, nonetheless. It was hard to think of anything else other than Jake’s name being chanted by your tired throat, Jake’s dick buried deep into you, Jake’s hands grasping your hips to keep you still, Jake’s desperate moans, searching for his release. Jake was everywhere.

“So– deep–” You whined, your walls clenching around his length, your dripping juices coating precisely each part of it.

“Yeah, babe?” Jake’s voice dropped an octave, squeezing your hips hard enough to leave marks. The fleeting thought made him groan, because it sounded like you were his propriety. “Like my cock deep into your pussy, mhm?”

“Fucking hell, yes,” you faltered on your arms, dropping almost completely on the bed if wasn’t for Jake’s steady grip on your waist.

You could feel his dick twitching inside your cunt, the realization he was getting close sparking up in between the haze bliss you were going through, lost in pure, raw desire. Jake was fucking you so good.

“So fucking perfect,” Jake managed to say with trembling voice and between groans before his rhythm grew frantic, uneven, irregular. “My good girl, isn’t that right?”

You agreed within a mumble, not able to form proper words, eliciting a chuckle from Jake.

“I want your cum,” you said muffled, somehow finding strength to force your body back and meet Jake’s thrusts. “I want it so bad, Jakey–”

After testing words, dirty talks, movements, even decisions when sharing those moments with Jake, you managed to select a few things you could do to drive him insane, near the edge almost instantly. So it took just a few pumps for you to be filled with Jake’s warm liquid, his orgasm hitting strong as he threw his head back, choking in between a long, delicious moan. He held you still, his dick deep into you as his body shuddered, hips stuttering while he enjoyed his overwhelming pleasure.

With a hiss Jake released you from his grip, removing his length slowly, eliciting a discontent whine from you since not only you didn’t cum, but also felt the immediate lack of fulfillment and the feeling of his seed dripping down your legs. His hooded eyes were blurry, but he caught a brief view of it together with your slightly bruised skin before dropping his exhausted body onto the bed. Hot.

You quietly watched as he laid near you, how his chest rose and fell heavily, the known silver necklace moving together with it; you took the opportunity to come back to yourself, regulating your own breathing and regaining control of your body – deep down you knew Jake was just getting ready to give you your own climax. However, a mischievous plan popped into your mind and you couldn’t let it slide so easily, not when you finally had the chance of hearing him screaming your name without fearing your brother.

“Lemme ride you,” you muttered suddenly and moved to position yourself on top of Jake, hands finding support on his torso, straddling with a knee on each side of his body.

“Babe, wait a bit–” He said within a frown, but not really doing anything to stop you; he just rested his palms on your waist, watching you grab his slightly softened shaft to align on his lower stomach. “Doll, please–” When you wiggled your hips to fit your wet, warm folds in his cock and started to deliberately grind, he nearly screamed. “Please, stop–”

Your eyes darted over his contorted face, not halting your movements as you did so, a soft moan leaving your mouth.

Such a lustful sight. Jake had his beautiful and swollen lips parted, silent, whispered pleas escaping it as his brows furrowed deeper; eyes closed tightly, cheeks flustered and breaths coming out ragged, mixed with airy moans that only intensified as you started to rut back and forth faster.

“Please, babe, ‘m sensitive–”

Jake felt his head spinning, quite literally as he squirmed and abstractly, nonsense words cutting through the thick air, because, God, it felt so strangely good to be overstimulated by you.

“Do you want me to really stop, Jakey?” You asked sweetly, yet a bit concerned that he was actually not enjoying it as you leaned forward to suck the skin of his sensitive neck.

He moaned. Like, really moaned and shook his head frantically.

“Mhm, fuck–” You lifted your body again just in time to catch his eyes rolling and fluttering close. “D–Don’t you dare to, fuck, to stop–”

You kept on rolling your hips with a grin dancing on your lips. Jake’s sensitive tip touched your clit even so often, provoking your body to spasm a little. You aimed to get him hard again, so you could finally fuck yourself and achieve your orgasm, and because of the earlier interaction of your bodies you weren’t that far from coming.

Jake opened his eyes lazily, taking in the view of your exposed chest that quickly was being abused by his big hands, pinching your hardened nipples and kneading the soft flesh of them. You threw your head back, mouth falling open with the feeling of Jake touching almost everywhere.

At some point, Jake’s length was completely stiff beneath you and you took no time to position it in your pulsing hole, sinking in one go that had you and Jake throwing heads back with loud moans.

Your breath was irregular when you propped your hands on each side of Jake’s face, starting to bounce in an unwavering pace that, together with the way you locked eyes with Jake, fierce and full of determination to finish, got him moaning within a smirk, proudly.

“Look at you,” Jake cooed at you, his voice hoarse, hands raising to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear to give him the full view of your pleasant contorted face.

“Yes, that's it,” he encouraged, sliding his fingers down your sides, squeezing it mildly; his lips stretching into a bigger smirk when you started to whimper and clench around his length. “Ride it, baby. Use me to get yourself off.”

And so you did, speeding up your rhythm as you chased desperately for your own release and consequently led Jake towards his – he was extra reactive due to the overstimulation, so at that point he was practically holding himself back not to cum again, craving to keep on feeling your tight walls squeezing his dick and eventually you creaming it.

Jake was big, hard and deliciously leaking inside you, his tip reaching your g-spot with ease and constancy, enough to make you start to scream as your moans grew louder. When his slender fingers found their place on your clit, rubbing fast circles to help you out, you couldn’t help but close your eyes with your mouth agape, a blender of whimpers and whines melodically falling from your lips as your arms began to fail to hold you in that position, making you slightly falter forward.

“J–Jake– ugh, fuck, so fucking good–” You stammered amidst cries of pleasure, feeling the coil in your low stomach teasing a strong build up.

At the same time your thighs began to burn, frustration emerging together with your desperation to cum, your own body betraying your release as you wavered the pace. Within seconds Jake took notice of how exhausted you were starting to act, and in no world he would let his girl down, so to maintain the same posture he propped his legs up, feet planted on his bed as he whispered for you to stop for a second.

“Just… Trust me,” he mumbled after seeing your confused face while letting go of your sensitive bundle of nerves from his skilled fingers to grab your ass, full hands in each cheek, holding you still as he started to push himself upwards.

You rolled your eyes quite instantly, letting your body fall onto his, your face finding its place on the curve of his pretty neck, where you started to pant and messily kiss in between your heavy breaths. Jake was leading the entire moves, pushing you down and pulling him up, heavenly deep.

Each desperate, frantic, urgent thrust was leading you closer to your climax; you could sense it was going to be a strong one, and your whiny moans gave it away for Jake, who found himself teetering the edge as well.

“Close– ‘m close– So close–” He cried, feeling his dick leaking precum already.

With a snap you let it go completely, your body shaking in uneven spasms as your juices fully coated Jake’s length within a long, striking moan. His own release followed yours, since your clenching cunt and the lewd wet noises as he rode you through your high left no room for any sanity or self-control.

Jake’s big hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, shoving his cum inside you and the rhythm slowly faltered, hips stuttering as the last waves of pleasure coursed through both of you.

The room suddenly shrank as you both started to deliberately drift away from the blissful raze of raw arousal, nearly gasping for air as you did so.

“Don’t pull out,” your words sounded more slurred than you expected, but the sweet silence in the air helped Jake to understand you, still experiencing the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“Holy.”

It was everything he managed to say before the quietness took over again. You felt Jake caressing your bare back, slowly and tenderly, filled with an affection you wanted to receive only from him, fluttering the butterflies in your belly.

Eventually he was stroking your hair and hugging you close, his length still inside of you, prolonging the amazing sensation of being full. And somehow, you fell in love even harder.

“So that’s what freedom tastes like?” You heard Jake mumbling against your ear after a while, his honeyed voice cutting through the air kindly, and a tired laugh escaped your lips.

You couldn’t help the small sting in your heart as you heard the question, afterall, none of those escaping and hiding moments would be happening if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend. You wanted to be able to love Jake openly. And hoped he could love you back just as much.

“Yeah…” You whispered within a broken smile that Jake didn’t catch.

“I may grow addicted to it.”

Jake wanted you to stay for the night, caring little to nothing about whatever could happen if Sunghoon and Heeseung found out. But you weren’t worried about them that much, you could easily coax your way out of it.

You were frightened of your brother.

So after a soothing warm shower to calm your nerves and with Jake reassuring you that the excuse you had created was perfectly convincing, you headed back, praying for Jay to be sleeping already or, even better: not at home.

You moved as quietly as possible, trying not to make a sound while unlocking the door, like a teenager sneaking in after breaking curfew, heart racing in anticipation of being caught.

It was so weird to have that feeling, to hide things from your brother, the one you trusted blindly because he would never judge you. Still, the situation was fragile, unusual. It was a new territory where if you pushed too far, the consequences could be far worse than you were prepared to handle.

Jake somehow eased your stirring anxiety with his sweet words and calming voice when he embraced you in a last comforting hug before you left.

“He would never be mad at you, darling.”

With Jake’s voice whispering tenderly in your head like a mantra, you finally opened the front door, stepping into the darkness of your apartment.

A deep sigh of relief escaped as you closed the door behind you, careful not to make a sound, the faint click of the lock triggering a shiver that quickly vanished as you realized you might be alone. You could practically feel how your tensed shoulders loosed as you started to casually slip off your boots.

“So, how was it with Jake?”

You froze in place, back turned to where the voice came from.

Jay.

The lights suddenly turned on, but you had no courage to turn and face your brother, especially after feeling the burning sensation on your back that told you he was staring unwaveringly. The question hung in the air, thick and tense, as much as your body began to feel right after. His voice wasn’t accusing, but it still carried an underlying heavy weight you feared to understand completely.

"It was fine," you forced out, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out thin, shaky. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue as you unfortunately became aware it wasn’t enough to fool him. Not anymore. “W–We studied sound waves and… Watched a documentary. About it. He ordered food too… It was… Cool.”

Your sentences were barely coercive. Unstable, insecure, because your mind was no longer working properly. Telling blatant lies was something you never imagined yourself doing to Jay, and you certainly couldn’t consider yourself good at it at all.

Still, you pushed through, trying your hardest to sound convincing, desperately hoping to make it through the day. Your body was screaming for a proper rest, drained from the adrenaline and energy spent earlier that Jay was oblivious so far.

Maybe the next day would be easier – maybe confronting Jay wouldn’t feel so impossible.

“Yeah?” Jay muttered and you finally turned on your heels to look at him.

He was leaning on the wall, smiling – but not a very pleasant smile. He had his hands shoved inside his trousers’ pockets, jaw clenched, eyes fierce, cutting through you as if he read your deepest secrets. You gulped nervously, hands starting to tremble; you could feel your heart pounding in your eardrums.

“Did he teach you about sound waves while you screamed his fucking name?”

Your instant reaction was to almost mutter a quiet and confused “how did you know?”, your face dropping as the panic started to crawl in your skin. You just got caught and you had nowhere to run.

“Did he tell you two were alone, Y/N?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach immediately as he questioned and started to walk. Each step Jay took towards you felt like a heavy drumbeat, as if time had slowed down painfully, weightening the atmosphere absurdly, grounding you way too much; it felt as though heavy shackles with iron balls were bound to each of your feet, holding you in a way that left you suffocated and powerless. Excruciatingly overwhelming.

“Because you probably were.” He stopped in front of you, his nostrils moving within each ragged breath. You could picture the haze of pure anger his mind got lost through his fierce eyes, eyes that never left yours. “During the first hour.” He added between gritted teeth and you shivered, your eyes widening as you took a step back, fearing falling because as realization hit, you practically felt the ground being pulled from beneath your feet.

There was no way Jake had lied to you, right? Leading you into a trap just to ruin your relationship with your brother. Why would he do that? You couldn't believe it, because that wasn’t the Jake you knew – it wasn’t the Jake who had just asked you to be his girlfriend with eyes shining with passion before giving you one of the most heartfelt kisses you had ever experienced. Jake wouldn’t do that.

How did your brother find out, then?

Jay shook his head slightly, his expression hardening further before a bitter, dry laugh escaping his pursed lips. He saw the look of disbelief in your eyes, the shock written all over your face and he read it precisely.

"No, Jake didn’t tell me,” he explained briefly to your racing thoughts. “He just didn’t know Sunghoon would be home earlier than expected."

Jay, though clearly upset, spoke with an edge of reassurance. His voice was low, barely concealing the tension and irritation simmering beneath it, still, worried about you.

A cold wave sprang in your chest as the realization struck like a bolt of lightning, your body quivering with fear and your wide, glistening eyes teasing to collapse in tears. You felt exposed. Vulnerable. Your secret was no longer a secret, and you instantly cursed yourself for holding it secretly to begin with.

Stupid, dumb, idiot.

Jay took a deep breath and you, another step back, trying to run away from the radiating rage coming out of his frightening presence. Jay was bigger and taller than you, and right at that moment, you felt even smaller.

“Do you have any idea of what it's like to find out that my little sister is screwing around with my best friend? And worse – hiding it from me?”

Jay didn’t yell, in fact his voice was dropping an octave, low as possible, and was more than enough to leave you on the verge of crying, your eyes stung, averting his angry ones. You lowered your head.

“I'm sorry, Jay, I–”

“Wasn't thinking correctly? Didn't think I'd find out? Cut off with your lame excuses, Y/N.”

It was the first time Jay talked to you with such a cold tone, sharp as a knife, yet quiet. Something about the fact that he was mad, and still had a lowkey calm voice triggered the worst on you.

“You lied to me, Y/N. Lied.” His voice faltered, but only for a moment. The raw emotion in his words was enough to pierce through the façade he had been trying to maintain, his eyes glimmering with tears, bringing the worst from your own feelings towards the situation.

Your breath hitched, the sting of betrayal and guilt washing over you. Unfortunately though, Jay wasn’t finished.

“We promised not to lie to each other, Y/N. And you broke that promise.” His eyes burned into you, like they were seeing right through the walls you had built to shield yourself, the same barriers Jay once helped you to create, to feel stronger before the ones who tried to destroy your dreams. To destroy you.

For seconds, you saw your parents on Jay. For a brief moment, you pictured your younger self being scolded for your small mistakes and decisions, never being good enough. For the slightest millisecond, you hated your brother.

“Go to your room.”

You lifted your confused eyes only to see Jay cleaning his tears with the back of his hand.

“Are you grounding me?” You asked quietly, but a hint of angriness stirred to snap out.

Jay chuckled again, humorless. “No,” he gave you a last look with a mild head shake. “I just can’t see you now,” his sincerity was like a slap on your face. And you had no doubt that receiving one would hurt way less. “And you’re old enough to know you’ve fucked things up big time.”

Saying you cried all night would be an understatement. Having feelings for Jake now felt like a bittersweet ache, hard to swallow and to have close to you. You couldn’t help but get into a spiral of darker thoughts.

Was it worth it?

part 2

#jake x reader #sim jake x reader #jake sim x reader #jake smut #jake fanfic #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #heegyukeluv works

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astnmartn · 24 days ago

Text

ice cream for two

pairing: mv1 x reader

summary: drunk home invasions and chance meetings

notes: 1.6k words. 2 of my favorite small prompts in one! I wrote this on a whim so my apologies if smth doesn’t make sense! 😞

The only question your sleepy self could conjure up was, where am I?

Sitting up on your couch you look down to realize you are in last night's outfit, heels kicked off somewhere else in the room. Yawning you stand up and stretch your limbs. Almost like a cat, you think to yourself, watching a spotted cat walk up to you curiously.

Your brain barely registers what's happening before the cat starts rubbing itself against your legs affectionately.

You don't have cats. You're mildly allergic. So, why the hell was there a very cute cat in your apartment?

You look around the apartment and confirm your suspicions. This isn't your apartment. As if on cue, two more cats stroll out from what you assume is a bedroom. One identical to the first and the third, a white kitten.

You barely take a second to admire how cute they are before you scramble to grab your heels and find your phone. It takes everything in you to not pet all three of them as you hurry.

You find your purse and don't bother to put on your heels. You figure you'll be faster without them. You internally freak out as you try to find the front door.

Finally, you let out a sigh of relief as you reach the front door. Twisting the knob of the already unlocked door, a loud crash sounds from from behind you.

Slowly turning your head toward the sound you see a wide-eyed frightened man staring back at you, his cell phone on the floor. The man rubs his eyes once, twice, and then a third time to make sure he isn't dreaming.

He opens his mouth to speak and closes it again in shock as you stare at each other. The cats are behind him staring between the two of you.

You break the silence. "It's not what it looks like!"

"What is it supposed to look like?! You broke into my home!" He spat in disbelief, accent thick.

"I didn't break in! I don't even know how I got in the first place, and I was leaving!" You said, attempting to defend yourself. Though, it was in vain. This was impossible to defend.

As he thinks of how to respond, his eyes widen in realization. Lando had left the door open after he left their midnight FIFA session. Lando had told him, but out of pure laziness, he didn't bother. He drags his hands down his face and groans loudly.

After a moment he mumbles "Just go." With his head in his hands.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you run out of there as fast as possible and don't look back.

▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▀▄▀▄

Human interaction was the last thing you needed right now.

It was cold, too cold for just a shirt and sweatpants. You were hungry and needed a late-night snack, quick. The streets of Monaco were relatively calm at midnight aside from bass bumping from three streets down.

You walk down the sidewalk, walking past drunk couples, groups of friends, and the occasional midnight runner.

After a few minutes, you finally make your way inside the supermarket and its automated sliding doors. The bright white lights are a painful contrast to the dark blue of the night sky.

You make your way toward the ice cream aisle, ignoring the stares from the exhausted cashier workers. You open the fridge, reaching for the first pint that grabs your attention: cookie dough. The last one. You smile to yourself.

"Excuse me, is that the last one?" A familiar accent sounds from beside you.

Turning your head toward the sound slowly you wince as you see the owner of the voice.

A man. The same man whose apartment you drunkenly broke into.

He looks at you for an answer and lingers on your face for far too long. He realizes it then.

"It's you. The one that broke into my apartment." His voice is flat, unsurprised, depleted even.

You sigh and start to walk to the cashier. He follows behind you. "Small world. And, I didn't mean to! Like I said I don't even know how I got there in the first place. Wait- why are following me?" You halt and turn around.

"That was the last one. You owe me." He says pointing at the tub in your hands.

"I don't owe you anything." As you say that you realize what a lie that is. He didn't yell or call the authorities. At the same time, you visually aren't much a of threat.

"Fine. Take it," you say, reluctantly placing the pint in his hands. You walk past him to grab another one. Again, he follows after you. Before you can open the fridge again he reaches for your arm

"No, don't. We can share it. If you want to." he hesitantly lets go of your arm as your eyes lock onto his green ones.

You close the fridge and glare at him. "Fine. But you're paying."

At that, he smiles shyly. "Of course." The both of you make your way toward the cash register. You awkwardly stand beside him as he pays for the ice cream.

The night air hits you as the pair of you walk out of the supermarket. You shudder at the cold, placing your arms around you. He takes notice of this.

"Here." He starts and hands you his jacket. You take the jacket in your arms. It's plain, black, and very soft. You wrap yourself in it quickly trying to escape the sting of the cold. You look up and he's still watching. You mutter a thanks under your breath.

He nods, lips pursed. He looks around for a place to sit. Luckily, there's a bench near the dock a few steps ahead, he heads toward it and you follow.

You feel the much stronger and heavier breeze as you sit on the bench. He sits beside you and places his other market bags down.

He pulls out a spoon from his pocket, you don't question but your stare says otherwise. "Don't ask." He smiles. You catch yourself smiling as well.

He opens the pint painfully slowly. You watch as his spoon digs into the frozen treat and as he takes the first bite. You don't know why but it's almost hypnotizing.

He glances at you with furrowed brows. "What?" He questions after he gulps down his bite and holds out the spoon toward you.

You hope the night masks the blush creeping onto your face. "Nothing. It's just...how am I supposed to share a spoon with you if I don't even know your name?"

"Max. My name is Max." He answers.

"Max...?" You push.

The man who you now know as Max, puts his finger to his lips with a smile and takes another spoonful of the ice cream.

Playfully rolling your eyes you take the spoon and scoop a bite for yourself.

"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to tell me your name now," Max says, slouching on the bench, his eyes locked on yours. Gulping down your bite and meeting his eye, you tell him your name. In the silence of the night, Max recites your name under his breath.

You shift in your seat. You're not sure if it's the cold or the way he says your name that makes you shiver.

Both, you think.

The two of you sit there passing the tub of ice cream back and forth and listening to the waves crashing.

After about an hour, the spoon hits the bottom of the plastic cup. The both of you look at each other and quietly laugh.

Max gets up from the bench first, he stretches and looks down at you on the bench he extends a hand politely to help you up. You accept it and find that his hand has an abnormally firm grip.

With his eyes on yours, Max smiles. "Let me walk you home—your real home, " he chuckles. There's no pressure in the way he says it. Though, in this moment, you'd go anywhere if he asked.

You hesitate for a second, looking around at the dark empty streets.

"Okay." You smile.

Max smiles as well. Maybe too hard for someone he had just properly met. Max allows you to lead the way at first, then after a while the both of you start walking in step.

In the quiet of the night you share soft conversation, asking each other about your dreams, careers, and families.

You learn that Max is Dutch and a big family man.

You also learn that he is a car driver. He didn't specify which kind but you didn't want to ask too many questions. Mostly because you didn't want to pry, and also because you were already at the front step of your apartment building.

"This is me." You say with a straight face. You're a little sad that your night with Max has come to an end. You hope that he's just as disappointed as you are.

He nods politely, an awkward smile etched onto his lips.

"When can I see you again?" He asks lifting an eyebrow as you walk up the steps of your building.

Halting, you look back and reply, “Depends. How much do you wanna see me?" You grin.

“A lot,” Max replied quickly. “Too much for someone I barely know.”

You laugh softly. "I didn't expect that. But, me too."

"I didn't expect to feel it." He confesses. "Let me take you out. Properly, this time. No pressure."

"I'll take you up on that."

Max grins.

This time with the newfound confidence of having taken a chance.

#max verstappen #max vertsappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv1 fic #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x you #mv1 fanfiction

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craske · 4 months ago

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I saw your dejammed au and all I can wonder is how the beasts interact with the main three, who gets along best with who? I can see Wizard and Shadow Milk getting along slightly, but also it's Shadow Milk. Will we also get to see the beasts possibly growing closer to the three kiddos as time goes on, since Dark Enchantress seems to be actively making herself a bigger threat to the kids(not surprising, I'm pretty sure they've thwarted her plans and allies a lot of times by that point)

id LOVEEE to have the other beasts interact with the gingerbrave gang. theres one issue tho, and its that they never met these kids in canon i believe? mystic flour and burning spice confrontations happened without input of these three, instead it was always the other allies of the involved ancients. so while itd be fun, i dont think anything meaningful wouldve come out of it... maybe?

while her calmness is eerie, mystic flour wouldnt bother strawberry that much. she wouldnt strike up a conversation or pester her often, instead theyd just. exist in eachothers presence, which is a great breather from everything being so overwhelming

gingerbraves moxie and determination surely would amuse burning spice, at least somewhat. feisty little thing, which is actually admirable

as for shadow milk... he gets the most interactions with the kids due to au plot reasons, and since he is in constant danger of being exposed to their presence. ESPECIALLY ever since he decided to organize magic lessons to stave off boredom. is there other reason for these? who knows, but nothing has happened SO FAR. hell, strawberry crepe stays nearby too, shadow milk is one-in-a-lifetime opportunity for dough analysis and overall a curious study subject. dont worry though, theres always some supervision so that shadow milk doesnt get any funny ideas. or at least at first, as time goes on the unthinkable happens and he actually becomes trusted enough to hang around others without needing anyone to keep an eye on him

#ask #dame-sailorlynn #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #mystic flour cookie #burning spice cookie #wizard cookie #gingerbrave #strawberry cookie #strawberry crepe cookie #dejammed au #STRAWBERRY CREPE IS MY SPECIAL LITTLE GUY OFC THEY GET INCLUDED

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 5 days ago

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

Someone requested „unhinged life advice“ and I will try my best to provide some - but firstly, and at the risk of sounding like a buzzkill, I need to say something very annoying:

A lot of the things that’ll make you feel happier and make your life better are - frustratingly - very, very hinged. They’re just the things you expect them to be: try to eat at least some veggies, fruit and fiber. Try to drink enough water. Go to bed early enough to get eight hours of sleep. Try to move your body, for example by taking walks or exercising. Avoid alcoholic drinks (altogether if possible but at least in excess). Quit smoking. Try to do at least some things in your free time that are not just passive consumption of content and instead challenge your brain, like learning a language or doing puzzles or writing short stories. Try to have at least some pleasant social interactions, ideally even in person.

These pieces of advice aren’t fun. They also aren’t easy. I think we are so fascinated by the concept of „unhinged life advice“ because we are tired. We hope for something easier, for a magic quick fix, for a „this one little thing changed everything“ - while in reality building new habits needs patience and determination and time.

So, I think the best pieces of „unhinged life advice“ are the ones that help to build these habits! I’ll share some of them. I’ll also throw in some pieces of advice that are just unhinged in the sense of „weirdly specific“ (since that’s another possible interpretation).

Without further ado:

If putting chicken nuggets in a salad makes you actually eat a salad you otherwise would never eat, then chicken nuggets are a healthy choice.

If you struggle with eating fruit because the texture is so unpredictable, try frozen fruit (eaten straight out of the freezer). Frozen fruit has a predictable texture!

If frozen fruit hurts your tummy or you don’t like that texture, either, here are some more ideas: make smoothies, or purée fruit and mix it into yoghurt, or purée fruit and add it to tomato sauce (sounds weird but a little sweetness can work great in tomato sauce), or bake fruit into muffins (if you cut them up very finely or blend them into the dough, they are often barely noticeable)

Moving your body doesn’t have to look like exercise. Going on a walk (maybe to look for pretty stones on the sidewalks? or even just to get a coffee!) counts! Dancing to your favorite song (even alone in your room) counts too! Crawling on the floor like a dog (just for the silliness of it, which is also great for your brain) also counts!

Sleep rituals can help a lot and they don’t need to be fancy! Just do the same thing before you go to bed and over time your brain will associate it with getting sleepy and calm down once you do it. This could be something like making a cup of chamomile tea, listening to soft piano music, praying or meditating, writing down one thing you’re grateful for etc., but also something whimsy like saying good night to your favorite plushie!

A great way to get some steps in and also challenge your brain is to go to museums. If you feel like you are not the museum type because you don’t „get“ art, try this little trick: just don’t try to get it. Don’t focus on finding the meaning or find hidden symbolism for now. Instead, just try to find three things you like about the art piece. This doesn’t have to be anything smart or deep. It can be something like „I like the blue color the artist used“ or „I like how fluffy the clouds look“. This approach will help you relax and actually learn to appreciate the art… which is what you need to do in order to allow your brain to look for meanings

There’s probably at least one vegetable you think you hate but you really just hate the way your mom prepares them (no offense to your mom). It can be a fun challenge to revisit some foods you decided you hate as a kid and to see if that’s still true.

Allow yourself to be bored. „I need to look at two screens simultaneously at all times to avoid a thought from occurring“ is not as funny in real life as it sounds as a meme. Your brain needs to be bored sometimes. Your thoughts need to wander sometimes. If that’s hard, then start by just doing certain things more intentionally: do not watch YouTube while eating. Just eat. Do not scroll through TikTok while on the toilet. Just poop. Your brain will reward you for actually getting some time to sort through and process stuff. Even if it’s just while pooping.

Allow yourself to gameify those boring adult tasks if that works for you. Pretend to be on a cooking show while chopping onions. Sing a silly song about laundry while doing laundry. Beat your own record for speed-cleaning. Give those dishes a nice pool party in your sink.

Reading of all kinds still counts as reading. Yes, it can be a rewarding challenge to finally finish that bestselling novel that is totally outside of your genres or interests, or that classic piece of literature that everyone should know. But if it’s too overwhelming and kinda stops you from reading altogether, then just put it aside and read something that’s actually fun for now! It can be a graphic novel or a children’s book or fanfiction or Wikipedia articles, too.

Make lists. I may be biased because I love lists and make lists for everything (I even have a list categorizing all my lists…) but lists can be such a great tool! Any task becomes much more satisfying when you can cross it off a list.

When people say things like „someone should empty the dishwasher“ or „we should take out the trash today“, they often mean „I want you to empty the dishwasher“ or „I want you to take out the trash“. They’re not even being confusing on purpose or playing mind games, they just assume that wording it so indirectly is nicer and more polite.

If you safely can, then go to Pride events (and queer spaces in general) in small towns or rural areas! They’re often the ones who need support the most. And since they’re smaller, they can also be more accessible (in terms of less noise, less crowded etc.)

I don’t think this one is rooted in science but I’m a big fan of having little comfort items. Just little „emotional support trinkets“ or lucky charms you can carry with you and look at or fidget with when you get nervous. Of course it’s important to not fall into overconsumption with that (impulsively purchasing lots of items you then do not end up actually using or even just purchasing them for the thrill of purchasing), but, if done intentionally (only picking a limited number of items that you actually form an emotional attachment and assign personal meaning to), I believe it can be a simple way to boost happy feelings. It can also work well as your own little „secret“ Pride item! If you don’t feel safe or comfortable wearing rainbow accessories but want something to affirm your identity for yourself, it can be a great idea to assign your own meaning to something totally random. Good way to train your creativity too!

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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missmanlykink · 1 month ago

Text

he’s just nice…right? - vinsmoke sanji ✿

MDNI - 18+ | navigation - m.list 𝜗୧ | REQUEST OPEN !

summary: sanji is a sweetheart, he helps you with your chores, makes you treats, he’s a genuinely nice person and totally has no ulterior motives, and he definitely doesn’t wanna fuck you…right?

paring: perv!sanji x clueless!reader

wc: 0.8k

warnings: smutty, sanji is a perv…duh, reader is clueless, dub-con (?), grinding, fantasies, male masturbation, food kink??, and again sanji is a weird oh (lmk if i missed anything)

a/n; i may write i longer fic about this but idkk, if you guys want it, ill most likely will do it bc sanji is my boo..AND this for anime sanji and la sanji so you can imagine him however you want lol (this was cross posted on ao3 @/freddiebensonsgf)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT - MINORS DNI </3

sanji is such a good friend, a type of friend you haven’t had in a while. whenever you're tired from your pirate duties, he always offers to help. whether it’s laundry or making you a special treat, or even rubbing the knots out of your shoulder blade, you know you can always count on him. but little do you know all the little favors he does for you are all for his own selfish needs. as soon as he sees your stressed face walking around the ship he knows it’s the perfect time for him to ease in, “you look tense, mon amour,” he’d tsk, “let me help you relax…” slowly sliding his hand onto your shoulder, you look at him and smile “really? thank so much, my back has been killing me.” “anything for you.” but this was a way to oil your back up and glide his hand across your soft skin, fully knowing that he’ll be stroking the living daylight of his cock, using his other hand to muffle the moans spilling out later, and yes this is because of massage. but it doesn’t stop there.

whenever it’s laundry day you always see sanji's face poke out of nowhere with the slick smile he always carries around, you’re walking out of your room with an arm full of dirty clothes, “here, let me handle that” he mutters as takes the load out of hands. “are you sure? you don’t-""oh it’s nothing, i have some free time on my hands”. that’s a lie by the way, he had a lot of work to do, but he needed a way to snag a pair of panties, so he rubbing his leaking tip against it, storing in his draw like some kind of keepsake or prize. but the real prize was to find a way to dig himself in your tight cunt, hearing his name spill out of lips, legs shaking as he’s rutting his hips against yours shamelessly.

and the thing is, it’s only you. you’re the only one on the damn ship who can’t see the way he fucks you with his eyes every time you walk past him, the way he stares at your ass to pick something of off the ground—that he dropped on purpose so he could that glorious view. sneaking in a touch whenever he can, looking down your shirt whenever you look away, he is starving. “he’s so disgusting..” nami mutters after seeing an “innocent” interaction between you two, which involves him sliding behind you to get to the other side of the kitchen, his hand resting on your waist, as his clothed cock rubbing against your ass, when he could’ve easily walked behind you. “what? he’s so nice, and helpful,” you argue, coming to his defense even though nami was completely right. “he’s a prev.” she shoots back, but you can’t believe that a sweetheart like him would have ulterior motives, you don’t mind the idea. but he’s just a nice guy, right?

cooking food for you is another thing he likes to do, seeing your face light up as he sits down a place of food in front of, “go on…taste it,” he encourages, watching you dig your fork into the dish, closing it your mouth around the piece of metal and you lipstick leaving a stain as you pulled it out of your mouth slowly, savoring the taste. something about you eating what he cooked, hand breaking up the ingredients, kneading the dough, the way you let out a moan from how good it taste makes his cock turn red.

one thing about you is that you're a horrible chef, the best thing you could do in the kitchen was peel an orange. but sanji takes your poor skill level as an opportunity. when he sees you struggling, he offers to give you cooking lessons, because he’s an amazing friend, and a good person of course. for the lessons he tells you to wear shorts because “you wouldn’t want to ruin your pants, these lessons get pretty messy” but he doesn’t care about your pants, he just wanted to stare at your plush thighs pressed together as you’re standing still, waiting for instruction. and obviously you took the offer as a “aw he’s such a good friend” thing, but the whole time he’s guiding your hand as you chop through the vegetables or fruit, the crotch of his pants bump into your ass as he stands behind, mumbling instructions.

his heart is basically beating out of his chest and you feel on your back, but “maybe he’s just nervous, and he doesn’t want me to cut myself, he just cares” but his heart is racing because he doesn’t want you to feel the tent that’s growing in his pants. but no, you’re 99% sure he’s just being a nice friend.

dividers: @sseuda % @hyuneskkami ! do not copy my work for anything without my permission.

#black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #one piece smut #one piece live action #one piece live action smut#sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji smut #black leg sanji smut #⋆˚ ✿ aydella hearts sanji ♡ ⁺𝅄 𓊆

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voidcat · 3 months ago

Note

kaiser puts his tattooed hand anywhere on you (your neck especially) and takes pics of it to make it his lockscreen so that everyone can see (<- his own way of paying u back for the marks you left on his neck)

um excuseme??? why are u on my ass??? coming to MY HOUSE and ATTACKING me!??!!!?! do i need to get a restraining order against you two huh is that it....... big sigh uhhh whatever notes: michael kaiser x gn! reader. suggestive content, mdni. what rye has said ig.. i elaborated a little

Michael Kaiser is a man who knows best to get under someone's skin. From countless interactions you've observed over the time be it during matches or behind the scenes- that, you're certain.

And from experience too, much to your chagrin.

A pain in the ass and a walking migraine inducing component as he may be, there is something to him that you always find yourself in the same room, drawn to your demise- not like a moth, no, you'd like to hold hope that whatever runs between the two of you isn't somthing as blinding and vulnerable as that- but you cannot deny there is still an attraction none the less.

Analytical and always knowing where to hit where it hurts most, everything he does is with a purpose. Be it the way he he behaves, speaks with people, which name he uses, whether he gives in to their desperation for a physical connection or remain a cold composure. This, of course, ends with an extremely touchy Kaiser on your side that you've learnt to make peace and live with.

It's almost depressing to think about it, really. How your resolve couldnt hold out any longer and you admited defeat on this front. But what's to follow is somewhat nice, you try to comfort himself. Always a hand around your waist, on your thigh, fingers intervining with yours-- a constant reminder that he is right besides you and he'll never leave you.

Other behaviours though, begin to present after a while- a recent development, you write them off as. Now his hands find your shoulders, kneading into your skin like you're dough for him to shape, placed on your abdomen and rubbing gentle circles, a finger at the nape of your neck, playing with the sensitive skin there; the last one he seems to favor more than the rest. You don't really alert to the action until you catch sight of his phone one day.

For someone who likes to show off, it hadn't even fazed you one bit when you saw a photo album dedicated to the two of you that's not quite safe for public eye. This is Kaiser after all, every oddity he seems to display soon become the new default in your mind- ruining your experience of the world.

So when your thumb scrolls down the numerous photos you don't even recall being taken- mostly without either of your faces but his hand and parts of your body as clear as day- you cannot even find it in you to react.

Your finger comes to a stop as you open a photo in particular. His hand wrapped around your neck, thumb pressing right below your carotis artery, from his rough hold parts of your skin already flushed and his index seeming to be lightly trailing your collarbones with his middle finger to keep company. As you stare at the photograph, you can feel his hand on you again, his digits dancing on your neck, moving up and down slowly, making sure to idle and stroke the areas where you strongly react. Chuckling at the sounds and twitches you make whenever he pinches and presses against a sensitive spot. You'd think maybe this is his payback, or just a preliminary to it.

You've got to admit, from an artist viewpoint, the photos do look.. pleasing to the eye. An aesthetic sense to them, the colorful dark lightning only adding to the atmosphere.

With a sudden shake of your hand, you close the app and put down his phone in a rush but his laughter reaches you before. "What were you staring at so intensely, hm? Found something you like?"

#rye !!#answered #michael kaiser #blue lock #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #kaiser x reader #kaiser x you

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edenspoem · 2 years ago

Text

fuck and pretend ౨ৎ

𖤐 .ellie williams with a breeding kink⊱.

౨ৎ "gon' make you a baby mama, hm?" 🌸

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

⋆' summary; bright blessings, aphrodite. hazy harbor of your lust, loose ribbons, and smooth touch. a strawberry sun kisses the earth with its sunset, a gradient so divinely captured above your picket fence visible from the kitchen window. a front row seat to dusk settling as you get fucked, the soppy wet clashing of your loins erupts. ellie, with her goddess given right, will knock you the hell up.

⋆' cw; dom!ellie, horndog!ellie, farm!ellie, breeding kink obv, depictions of cum + spit + nipple play + slight food play + spanking + fondiling + very slight lactation kink + rough mannerisms + dirty talk + rough talk + cum kink-ish + gentle dominance + cocktip teasing + strap sex + fingering (r, barely) + finger sucking + multiple positions (bent over, on the counter) , 'her cock' used more than 'strap', some plot + backstory, very detailed descriptions of fucking, smut heavy, reader has fem style/wears skirt, petnames; babe, baby, mama(kinda), slut, whore(not in dialogue), bitch(not in dialogue)

⋆' pairing; farm!ellie x housewife!reader

⋆' a/n; i'm horny. ⋆' wc: 6.7k ellie's masterlist 𖤐

a brilliant orb in the sky permeates a hot singe to your skin, making a day meant for mundane mutilation of vegetable roots drinking up the rich soil, dreadful. oh how you longed to be inside with your girlfriend, ellie, the rufescent headed mutt that pawed you to take a break, on the bed, in her lap. 'later, baby.', you just had to say that. but no, you just had to work, huh? the autumn sun bearing tidings of a good harvest just had to sing an enchanting tune, lulling you to the outdoors.

a heap of green already lines your wheelbarrow, a yelling chance to dip and jump into ellie's arms, who ensconces her bottom to the pleasures of a springy sofa in the family room, scribbling away matters that clot her noggin. oh, it would be so divine to just die of exhaustion in her grasp, straddling that tepid lap beckoning a cozy seat, melding your fingertips with the tense ache that mantles her neck, while she lewdly palpates the chub fat of your ass she deems 'a cute tush' with those strapping hands of hers.

"fuck it." the barrows handles drop to the grassy ground, giving the produce in the basin a bit of a bumpy ride.

the most salivating notion wins, food, fucking food. you burst into that kitchen with a sugar craving, a hellacious craving that puppeteers your fingers to fondle the beige flour into a meshy dough, powdering up your fingertips til it caked under your nail. eugh.

a strawberry and cream pastry of crispy golden beige delight is your end goal, pictured to be a celestial five star treat in your rather delusive fantasies. the butts of ruby strawberries stabbed through as you pull the stems out, gleaming juices of a translucent pink coating up your fingers so sweetly, you just had to pop them in your mouth. sucking all that flavor off, like a fuckin' lollipop.

you drift your finger out clean, a long smack squeaking from your lips, and then hum in rumination, "hmm, lemons– or no lemons? lemons.. or no lemons?" quietly spoken, tossing your eyes between a ripe lemon and the pulped strawberry.

"no lemons," ellie, bearing the element of surprise, intrudes on your introspection. speaking with a low, coarse timbre, pitch breathy, "hi babe." her body is then suddenly pressed into your backside, hand slithering down your hip and caressing your pantyhose– clad thigh gently.

"oh shit– ellie!" you yelp, instinctively pushing your rump back on her groin devoid of purpose, "ya' spooked me.." a throaty whine thrums from you.

"nah– u're just easily spooked." her brows pinch opposingly, slowly creeping her jaw in the cornered nook of your neck, parched lips nipping the flesh with summery hot licks.

"hehe– that tickles.." you jerk away slightly from her scruffy tuft of coppery hair like a plume stroking your skin.

a smile grows pliable against your skin, "good.." muffled ellie, wet smacks eliciting from her hungry latch.

"bored of ur' journal?"

"uh–huh.."

"or just happy that I'm here?"

"mhm.." she dozily agrees, slinking her head off your scruff, "missed you' out there."

"oh, i bet." you frolick kittenly, snatching up the same strawberry you pulped through earlier to cut it, "got fucking tired of hauling that barrow 'round anyway." you complain, speaking with discernable strain in your tune.

"hmm." she hums in consideration, worried about the amount of work you lug on your shoulder from a day–to–day basis, "l'mme help."

her fingers cottonly twine through yours, biceps hugging yours, chin perched softly upon your neck, taking both the strawberry and knife from you and cutting it deftly, chhp, chhhp, chop!– goes the sound of buttery slices.

you slump your head aside, just relishing the warmth for a moment, at genuine peace that your girlfriend was there. she was so soft with you, softer than petals, gently domineering at any split mention of fatigue. laying the midday away on the couch? joins you instantly, pressing and kneading the tender skin of your swollen feet while discussing more than humdrum topics. stomach rumbling loud enough to raise the dead? she immediately rounded the kitchen's trim to cook you a plethora of meals, taking every picky craving into heavy consideration. indecisive about your outfit? she would glide an oaken chair up to the dresser, plant you on her lap– in your undergarments, and choose what she personally fancies, sneaky hand groping your thigh.

"there you go." she mutters ardent to your shoulder with throaty rasp, knife clanking as she sets it aside.

"thanks baby.."

"n'problem.." her lips fumble the words, settling on bespattering the biome of your stretched neck with wet kisses– subtly hungry ones, and reposes her arms to slink over your hips, enticing them closer into her groin.

you scoop one pile of diced strawberries into the gullies of both palms, letting them plummet into a plastic green mixing bowl, plop.. plop, humming a tune, "hmmmm…hhmhmmm…"

you hear her chuckle, a small vibration amassing the length of your skin with an accompanied smile growing.

"you laughin' at my song?"

"mhh, that's not a song." she criticizes, lips pursing into a bud.

"hmph, rude." you circle your eyes in offense, faintly swaying your hips while you pestle the fruit into a sweet puree.

her hips react and ungulate a sluggish grind into your rump, acting impassive to it, "s'bored.." she croaks, clammy forehead sticking to your jaw.

"hmm?"

she doesn't clarify, instead, begins to nick your neck with pinched lips, letting the skin gingerly spring out each time. her hips, however, grow rough– wanton. little bounces of her humps smush your thighs into the counter, mind clearly anchored in her imagination.

"els?"

her relentless chafing continues, piling up the fabric of your skirt into a creased mess which only gets worse when her hand wedges between your bodies, palming her crotch with a few squeezes, "mhhn.."

your fingers nearly slip off the pestle, the stimuli of her humps withering away that poise calmness, "baby.." you whine.

"so, so– bored, baby." her grubby mitts fall and knead the shallow flesh of your hip bones, applying detectable pressure in the crevice beneath your hip bone. smutty, balmy prints sunk into your skin.

this fucking horndog, this auburn maned lovergirl could never let you rest on a busy afternoon like today. all the time, she was just pleading for pussy– pussywhipped, grinding her pelvis on your thigh amidst cuddling, to nudging your butt against her groin with both hands, whenever you bend over. you can hear the indecencies boiling on her wicked tongue right about now, pleading for a tryst.

a long suspire whorls from your nostrils as you turn in her embrace, nudging her fervid laps off.

she pouts a petulance, wet lips sheer in the frosty panes light, "why'd you move?"

"talk t'me," wisped sweet like honey, "what's on your mind?" you lace your fingers with hers, swinging your linked hands side to side playfully.

she pours a groan out, screwing her lids tight and throwing her head back, "baaabbee.." ellie was plagued, at minimum. lewdly plagued. a notion that topped her mind and wouldn't let go.

you thought it was, temptingly cute. the way she reels her head back down, jarring her weary eyes open to beadily gaze upon you, lips parting moistly.

"i have this.." a sharp gust waves off her throat, humbled to even say this, "dirty fuckin' idea.."

"enlighten me."

"i just think.." her eyes deviate from yours, staring at the cupboard, "you'd be really hot as a mama." a hint of smokiness grits in her voice, gazing at you with the most haunting bedroom eyes known to womankind.

"oh really? that's illuminating." you knit your brows, feigning marvel.

"tcch–" her textured lips creak into a cresten grin, hissing shortly, "like.." her fingers flee yours, drifting two brawny grips on your waistline, inching closer with each idea she lists, "i could take care of you, start baths for you, cook you meals and carry you to–"

you intervene gently, "you say it like you can get me pregnant." and laxly cross your arms.

her forehead creases in offense, "uh, i mean," and eyes barrel roll to the ceiling, then on you, chiseling a smirk opulent with smutty intention, "don't need a baby t'do.. whatever."

"whatever?" your tune curls.

"could just.." she pulls your groin snug to hers, pelvis protruding farther than her torso, thighs melding together, "fuck, and pretend."

you blush, mouth gaping in muted elation observing the way she pushes her crotch into you, "so foul.." you giggle.

"so?" a hand lifts from your hip, notching your chin firmly up to face her, "can i convince you?"

"how?"

an absolutely mischievous look casts over her features at that 'how?' , prominent dimples that plot her next words to flow out.

"here," she releases your chin and swipes a grip on your wrist, jerking you forward as she tugs that hand between her legs, "feel that, baby?" whispering a fingerbreadth away, toasty breath misting like perspiration on your earlobe.

you palpate the inseam, knobbing over a phallic bulge with her hand guiding you. oh my goddess, she's been wearing that shit all day.

"can i fuck y'with it, hmm?" she begs, voice drenched with silken clemency, and leathery callousness– control awaiting your word, lips of coquetry avid to your ear.

truth of the matter, at the back of her perv–diluted noggin, she knows she can't exactly get you pregnant. however, that's the hidden perk nobody talks about. play the part, make it feel real, and it still sticks the same. she can fuck you over, and over– and over again, sow her seed and never reap the physical consequences.

that girl can pretend well.

you feel the heat clump on your cheeks, turned on by her forthright request, "here?" you question foxily, feeling the excitement slowly trickle through your loins.

"yeah– right on this fuckin' counter." unfiltered and dirty, so suddenly, so tantalizing. her hands pitch up and draw upon your skin like a woven page, lurking the entire span of both arms around your hips.

"god, els.." you cling your arms around her nape, chest pressing firmly on hers, "i'd fucking love that."

her face lit up brighter than all the stars combined. reclining brows, smug–smothered eyes, and the most uneven smirk to ever jerk her lips. a brightness– so carnal.

"yes.." sounded so relieved in her breathy mutter, wetting her chapped lips before she slinks onto yours, dragging hers over the plush of your buds with a passion.

"mhh..mh.." you moan onto her lips, pushing with tantamount force to her hungry kisses.

a wet smack snaps the huddled space as she parts, "can taste those strawberries, ooh~" she huskily frisks with arching brows, returning to your lips with a pucker and slobber.

all during your tepid makeout eggs you both on, pink muscles entwining, mouths nearly trying to swallow each other up, bodies rocking like a ship riding the tide– her willowy digits tuck under the fat of your asscheeks, groping and pulling the two globes apart in rounded circles tight enough to cleft the chub with creases, frilly fabric of your skirt snagging on the ridge of her bouncing palms.

"love' this cute tush." she states with a satisfied scratch in her voice, a deep laugh gusting onto your lips.

"a fuckin' slut for it huh?"

"yeah baby!" she halfway hollers into your mouth, gripping your asscheeks like crab claws and giving a good shake– featherlike slap included.

you buck your ass out for her usage, urged to wave your hips in a figure eight motion, which she really likes, too much maybe. a booming smack! resounds the kitchen as her hand draws back to indulge a harsher slap, rubbing the red streak left in its path.

you yelp throatily, spitting from her avid lips, "fuck! ellie.."

"hey– c'm back here." her head follows your retreating one, plastering your mouth sealed and tongue–fucking you with that pushy muscle worming past your teeth.

her horny ass just kept spanking both cheeks, which triggered a proud "mmm.. mhm…" to intone on your lips as you jolt in reaction, caressing the flush heat gathered by each whack.

"more?"

"ghhnn– elli.."

"fuckin' take more." she veers that hand back and lands another blow, creeping over your shoulder to perv at the nylon–confined skin. right, your pantyhose.

you tuck and bat your lashes in the crook of her neck, whining right into the ears eager to hear you break.

but, she couldn't do that with all this fabric, could she now?

"nice.. but.." her grubby claws then prod the cloaked crack of your ass, a shrill ripping through the air as she tears a massive hole in your pantyhose– wholly for better access, now exposing your full behind.

you quench a lapse in your throat, "oh, my god." and peek over to eyeball the torn material, noticing how discolored your butt has become and poking your hip out.

"hurt too much?"

"n–no.." you swallow again, reverting your pupils to her, "hurts just right.."

she smirks merry to one cheek, hollowing an alto, "makes' you a dirty fucking slut, amiright?" spoken on a crescendo, second–guessing with her lips gravitating back to yours, but she pauses.

it dawned on her.

something even more impure tethers her attention, down– down, on that chest of yours.

the rustiling of fabric chafes as her hands slide from torturing that delicate rump further, then splutters, "take ur' fuckin' tits out, 'gunna suck on them." just straight up, stern edge like metal to her tone.

no hesitation hurdles your hands, straying from her neck you pleat your shirt over your head and stretch back to unclasp your bra with a pinch, letting it tumble off your chest and hit the ground with a padded thud. the gale of cold air hardens your nipples, perking up two nice targets for ellie to ogle– both in sight, and in taste.

a sweet– tart taste.

"hmm," ellie's pupils wander off your drooped chest and fixate on the separate dish of intact strawberries, glowing pink in the dying suns' radiance. her elbows straighten and forearm extends towards these gems of interest, scooping one up with her thumb, index and middle combined.

"what are you doing with my–"

"shh, just watch." her prudent fingers then toughen and squash the berry above your clavicle, letting the barmy pink liquids squeeze through her knuckles and drip onto your chest.

a gasp dries your throat, "ellie!"

a few mashed bits plunk down amongst the heavy fall of berry juices, managing to drizzle down the rise of your breast and split over your nipple. mission success? though now the victim strawberry– squelched to a gross chunk, makes a home chucked into the handy trash bin.

ellie licks her lips and stares dead straight on your hardened nipples. itching for a taste of that strawberry deluge.

"fuck.." her throat quivers, taking no time in searing the distance between her tongue and your breast promptly with a hunched back, bringing her heart–shaped pucker to the strawberry–saturated nub and locking on, sucking hard, making you jerk. ellie definitely has a thing for this.

"was wasting that strawberry– mhhf'– worth it?" you sport a quip quickly, the small vacuum sensation on your nipples only just starting to nip that pleasure kernel in your brain.

it definitely was. cause ellie had already vampire–suckled all the flavor off your bud, now snaking her tongue up the excess stream of juices and retreating back. those juice–coated lips squelch open, muttering, "so' fucking worth it."

so fucking worth the lady boner penned behind that zinc rivet.

her lips wrinkle around your other nipple, opening and closing her mouth around the bud with a slow nutate of her head. inside her mouth was so warm, so wet, and the fleshy texture of her lips felt fucking riveting. the stimulated twang of salacity brought in the form of sucks and licks has your pussy sappy and caked in precum, and ellie could tell how wet you've gotten by the yearning chafe of your thighs, so she forcefully wedges her knee there– making you grunt at the pressure, and her giggle at your response.

you card your fingers through her hairline, fondling her autumn tuft while she sucks that swelling nipple dry, causing an 'mmhhh.' to vibrate from the depths of her lungs, guttural on your boob. one of her hands rove up and cusps the same boob against the webbing of her thumb and pointer, squeezing the blubber of mass further into her wet rosy hole– like she's genuinely sucking something out of them– thirsty, her parched tongue laps a gloss of gleaming saliva over the bumpy node, determined to have you unravel.

"oh, els.. baby~" you tug on her hair, piqued by the blossoming ache in your clit raring for ellie to just get on with it.

"mhhpghmm.." her lips suction with a pop, roads of ruby red mottled on her cheeks from your angle. so eager to toy with that forming arousal, but with persuasive control. "s'this convincing enough?"

you toss your head back, extending the curved surface of your neck, "i'm already convinced.." you gasp for air, surfing a breathless moan behind the carry of your voice.

another pop sound has her lips wandering up from that sensitive bump and craning to your lips, taking advantage of the situation. her fantasies overrun that dirty mind of hers, aching mentally– and physically, to have that pussy engulfing her thickset cock. to fuck you raw. fortunate for her, you were already won over by the rough terrain of her tongue setting you over the edge.

"m'kay baby.." her humid syllables shudder over the span of your midface, promptly, churning into a demanding growl. "turn around, n' bend over the counter. doin' it right here, c'mon." her words usher you and fingers force you, contorting your hips with her steely grip without even giving you the chance to move yourself, other hand reaching over to knock the bowl of strawberries– now scattered across the tiles like the starry sky.

you wobble around on your ankles as she bucks you into the counters' rounded steel rim, laying her palm plumb between your shoulder blades and pinning you down, pitching a yelp from you when the cold surface practically freezes your nipples.

that's when you realized, she wasn't playing around.

ellie's spindly fingers pleat your skirt up with a swat, then drift down to catch and tuck in the lacy band of your panties and tug hard, pulling the thread to the point of frayed snapping– without giving you a wedgie– until she could remove it from your hips through the hole in your pantyhose, chucking it somewhere east of you. now she could gape at everything. the bare truth of your engorged pussy rearing for her, splayed out like a whore. nuder than an amaretto.

and it made her giggle in gratification, lugging that adams apple around with her wheezy laugh.

"look at 'chu bent over like this," she gruffily awes at your ass jacked to her hips, golfing up a 'hawwkkk' and a 'puh!' as she aims a spit down the crack of your ass.

it streamlines through the canyon of your backside 'til it mixes with the slick of your slit. can't let it go to waste, so– she jams the soapy spit into your hole, to which you clamp her in.

a jerky chuckle croaks from her chest, rustiling her mullet with each jounce, "sensitive now, are we?"

"ellie–"

"okay, okay– i'll stop." she slides her fingers out, popping them in her mouth while she observes you from this lewd position.

in the sorbet light, you were gorgeous. cunt dripping nectar like a waterfall to your thighs, ass hiked up and sloping into the plateau of your back. you looked so perfect. perfect for her hands to melt into. perfect for her cock to sheathe into. just divine. positively divine.

"alright.." her voice rattles deep, slightly muted in a gulp after tasting your cunt on her tongue, swishing her spit around to pick up every note of flavor.

moments later, you hear the metal clank of a buckle jingle from behind, the prongs strike the floor as her jeans clump up at the base of her ankles, blanketing her feet. then, a silicone tip slots it's bulbous nature between the top of your thighs, smacking up onto your slickened labia playfully.

"god– it's like a fuckin' waterpark back here babe."

her feet scoot closer, poking the chub of your globes with her jutting hip crests, enraptured in the pure way your folds already look like they want to swallow her up. they faintly part as the silicone cockhead smears your arousal from clit to hole, hole to clit. a half–moon smile dilates into the apples of her cheeks, prideful. a smirk you can hear loud and clear in her dirty, outrageous comment.

"gonna knock that pussy up, hmm? gonna fuck a pair of twins in you so good baby~" she coos, delirious seeing the head of her cock slosh around the fat lips of your pussy, grooving two concentrated lines between her brows and wagging her peachy muscle wedged in her lips. she was like a devil in heaven, and you an angel in heat. two strapping grips slap and clutch onto your ass, the fat bulging through each finger gap, calloused fingertips blending with the texture. her knees bend to crouch her hips slightly, dragging the hem of her brown button–down up by the protrusion of your ass as she aligns her frame level to your cunt. one hand drops down to catch hold of the faux cock and toys the rim of your gummy hole, sinking the head in just barely.

your sensitive entrances' involuntary answer to this scant plugging of your hole clenches the tip up fast, sucking it further in. ellie loved that. loved how your pussy was taking her without a halt. a love so dazing, she begins slipping and inserting the head only, eyeing the contracting hole gorging over the rotund spade each and every small thrust.

a whiny complaint trebles off your gullet, "are y'putting it in? baby.. please." but the petulance in your plea just rouses ellie up– excessively.

ignoring you, her focus tunnels solely on the tight hole kissing her cock in intervals, pleating up her earth brown shirt to eye her constricting muscles speckled in freckles, the pale blue–glossy v–line cadreing her hunter green cock that only deepened the lines in her abdomen with each pump. with her gaze aimed downwards, she speaks directly downwards, "be a good pussy and take my cock, yeah?"

that was her game. her conflicting game. the only words you heard before she fastens the dick bulky in her wrapped grip and lugs her entire length inside, blowing your vulva thin with how straining her size was. wow. a sight she froths over.

"mhm–" she continues, tensing her chords up to flow out a breathy, gritty, whisper, "take my cock like a good pussy."

you feel the force impact your cervix straightaway, globs of clear lubricant slip and pool through the slim opening her cock barely provides and drips onto your thigh, cold and sticky, marks like paint. "ellie– h'oh fuck!" you wail in the stinging sensation of sudden brimming, which only drives her to crack another slap blistering red on your ass, "eeah!" you squeak, tears scorching the shoreline of your blurred eyes.

she wanted a tear to slip out. she wanted a cohesive sign that her cock felt tight, warm, filling. a kind of filling that bumps your stomach, makes you feel pregnant. cause you would be, take my word for it.

ellie analyzes the new ring of creamy serum wrapping her base like a ribbon of white lace, milky delight. it fades as she drags her length out, and bubbles when she sheathes back in. nothing could stop her finger from sampling the slimy slick, but, no. not this time.

in her mind, that's her precum. her sperm. not a drop should be dripping out of you.

"g'nna fuck my seed– so, so.. deep."

and by her word, she knurls her torso into a convex bend as she swathes over you, cottony shirt to back, tickling your flesh. like a dog licking your ear, she mashes the lobe of your ear with her soaked lips. chanting a one–lined hymn in your ear as her cock skids along your ridged walls and returns with a pumping rhythm, keeping your pelvis steady in her slack grip.

"makin' you–" slap, slap, slap, "a mama'," plop, plop, plop, "with my c-cock.. no–one else's." her huffs fan the baby hairs near your ear, lips brushing so dearly on the conch. each sticky bop of your hips plays like a hand smacking water, bringing shame to the ears of every wall witnessing this dirtier–than–porn event.

your features tog up into a woozy countenance. lips wedged open like an orange slice, pupils reading your upper lashes like a string of musical notes, head jiggling with each lavish pump into your pretty little pussy. it feels so fucking good. spurts of pleasure that make you wish on every damnable star for her to actually get you pregnant. the way she fucks you like this, all pathetically horny with her own ass clenching into each thrust. you'd take her babies in a yoctosecond.

her bushy brows curl and furrow in enthrallment, enthralled by every honeyed whimper she pulls out of you with her dick. it fed her ego, the greedy ego telling her she is impregnating you. each vein, bumpy on the creasing skirt of your blushing hole shaped to fit her cock, felt so real– it hurts. ellies' had enough. she skims her palms just a hairbreadth down the planet of your ass to sink her talons in the supple crevice of your hip and thigh, held hard enough to move you. this meant only one thing.

ellie was tired of playing it safe.

her torso pastily unsticks from your back, casting a gray shadow with her hover, grunting, "listen– t'me," her hips sway and punch with heftier, vehement– stickier thrusts, the fat plastic cockhead sending a flux of pressure with each smash into the tacky wall of your vagina, "answer– d'ya think, mhh– our kids will have auburn hair, like me? frhm– freckles, like me? my eyes?"

the constant abuse to your cervix chokes up your throat, warbling and going "guh, guhp– unh! fhhummk.." with your flaccid lips damp in slob, like a filthy mess of a bitch.

wrong answer.

you should have just offered up her name in an exaggerated moan instead.

the extent of her hand extracts from your hips– not without her gift of nail–birthed sickles indenting your skin like scales, and coils back to whack your vainly treated glute. it makes your vision go white, tenderizes your skin and makes you scream.

"n–nnono, els–"

"so– no they won't look like me?" she laughs to herself, and it almost sounds– amusingly disappointed.

"n– yes, yes! they w–"

your throat then nearly guzzles her fingers base knuckles deep, muffled and choking on their stacked width.

"just shut up." ellie warns in a gruff. thing is, she knows that as long as her thickset tip keeps slamming into that assaulted cunt– she'll never hear the end of it. and that's the best part. confliction.

the counter was virtually warming up on your compressed cheek from how long you were in that position. slippery sweat dampened a puddle under your face in a thin pellucid coat. from your current view, you could only see her wrist pushing on your chin– cranking your jaw ajar, and her humping motions bleary in your peripherals. not like seeing her was necessary, you already felt her through and through.

ellie, with her hips strapping you down in prolonged rams that cause a sharp sear on the hind of your thighs, with the downright sedative pleasure brought by the bumping base to her neglected clit, finds herself earnestly thinking about how a family would look on this farm. her baby, growing in you. her kids, skipping through these rustic halls. her wife, devout enough to nurture them through childhood. but on the perverted hand, her cock fucking a future generation into you, 'her' pussy gluttonous enough to consume it up to the hilt, her whore, eager enough to be the cumbucket to breed as she pleases.

she's gonna breed you like the horndog she is.

but you want to be full of her offspring.

"baby–" a stiff moan pours from her lips, and she glides her cock and digits out. snow white cream follows in strings, strung to her shaft and springs out like paint splatter on the ground as her strap bounces down to a flaccid level. wow. she moans again, this time, breathlessly, "baabby.. get'on th' counter.."

"hmmuh?" flubbed you, barely able to see the picket fence outside the kitchen window through your graying haze– shapes blurred and melted into each other.

"said," the lone grip on your hip is replaced with the clammy bend of her elbow, tucking under your womb and flipping you around, "on' the counter." and lugs you hurriedly onto the sudor–coated surface with her grasp under your knees. her hands flatten on either side of your shaky thighs– vividly like jello– as her torso huddles close in your space. now that she could see your face, it was sexually comical.

doe–eyed and glossed, lids puffy and red. patterns of your own saliva glissade down your chin and gleam in the soft light behind you. so hot.

her teeth bear in a parted smirk and she drunkenly stumbles her face down. then, she notices something. a pearly strand of sleek cum trickling over your perineum. like a melted popsicle, you drip everywhere, all over that counter space.

ellie's tongue ticks on the roof of her mouth, sighing, "mmh' fuck, pussy dripping everywhere– clean this counter afterwards, won't you?" spoken like a silken demand, index pointing at the mess.

you keenly nod, squinting with those weepy eyes as you try to discern the moving colors of your girlfriend right as she heaved her fat cock right back inside. stars. stars heat you skin and strike your vision. a night of black spots burn through your eyes and caper around– obscuring ellie's blissed out face. you were already fucked out from the last position, so fucked, you nearly came at the meaty expansion of your aching hole.

ellie could tell, and that was her cue. her goddess given cue to bottom out. the friction of her girth akin to a fist stuffing you up was pushing up on your g–spot, and that knocked a tear out. the ones lashing at your ducts to release, finally did.

you couldn't feel anything else– anything, but her cock.

moist sloshes cram up the space between you too, smacking and dragging as before. faster, harder, her hips never lapse and pick up the speed. tapping you out like a nozzle draining syrup from a tree, gushing and coating her cock beautifully. smack– smack– smack– goes her groin deluged in your sweet sex juices connecting like webs with each bash of your hips.

on comes a dirty row of her impudent and vile comments– barely stable voice from how fast she pumped, all tepidly whispered on your neck.

"knockin' that fhckin' pussy up– huh?"

you can feel the warmth radiating off her face a breath away, a cheek–length strand of hair now sticks to the sweat veiling her hairline. pores beading with glassy perspiration. just as red as you. huff, huff, gasp.

"that pretty pussys' mine– mhh, all mine."

ellie's palms leave two clammy prints on the marble slab when her fingers pop off and clasp your pelvis. with this grip on you, she pushes your hips hard on her relentless pounds. no wall of your vagina lacks a thrashed kiss from her dick, your hole was just too tight for any air pockets. that tight. just pure ush–gush.

"god' m'sucha dirty slut for ur' pussy, such a fucking whor– ughhn!– wantin' to make you–a mama." grizzled her in a lower voice, but still so rough, sweating and huffing like a dog in heat.

the cupboards creak and squeak, scarcely bearing the racket she induced with her fucking into you.

the intensity marches on.

"els– els, I'm gonna cum.."

it was nice to hear, but she was infinitely more focused on cumming herself. she was close. very close. eyes screwed tight in the straps kickback digging her clit with firm pressure, knuckles flushed white as they bent and tried to carve into your hips. ellie couldn't get enough of you.

"yeah– me too, nghh~"

her own slick begins to lather up her crotch, sticking up that auburn bush, dripping off the strapbase and staining the crinkled jean pile directly underneath her.

the kitchen reeked of cunt– yours and hers. delicious sex miasma. the scent of raw arousal coats your nasal cavity, lulling you both to climax– two hearts on the same beat.

but there was one thing. one thing you could give her, that'd change your lives from there on out.

"baabe–" a shallow utter gusts from her lips, shuddering, "can' i fuck you– god, fuck you like this? mate you– make babies with you, more often?" her voice warbles, fighting back the breath that wanted to give away.

the plunging and swelling of her dick parting your walls made it potently harder to answer– but, you creak, taking all the breath she would give you, mouth to mouth.

"yes, ellie– i want to have them."

her eyes squinted ever so slightly, sharpening, pupils blown. a wicked, scantily–contained smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, a glint in her eye revealing the excitement she felt by your words. in a heartbeat, her lips met with yours– wisping and wetting each other up.

but it was no feat to the sudden acceleration of her pistoning hips.

ellie's lips withdraw, moaning rigidly with buffering pants, "gon' make you a baby m–mama' now– ooh fuck!" feeling the same rise to orgasm tighten her stomach.

"yes– yes! unh‐ uh fuck, ughh!"

the clanging cupboards bang and thud as they do, but your moans eventually clamor up over them. her cock, sought the last final blows to your gummy ring inside, gathering up all that viscous serum in strings stuck to her bulbous head. this was it. she was finally getting her reward– viscously.

"love you–"

it tightens.

"s'much–"

it pulls.

"thank y– unngghh!"

she snaps.

your thighs convulse and lock around her hips as she buries her dick deep inside, plugging that bruised–to–hell mucousy cervix up. a high so heavenly it curls your body up to hers, cumming all over that filthy fucking cock in clear spurts, plashing all over the veiny shaft that had you weeping moans.

ellie had came too, matter of fact, all over the floor.

a dense and husky moan grates from the lowest region of her diaphragm, "hhhggn– uhhugh– fuck, baby."

her eyes grew taut and scrunched in ecstasy, jutting her hips and clenching her ass to ride out the orgasm. a spew of her release taints the straps footing and leaks down her thigh, saturating in her skin. veins popped in her gripe, incisors bit her lip nearly hard enough to break skin, and eyes twitched back tenfold, casted heavenward.

a sunset clasps the shingle roof from above, depicted so innocently behind the pane, unknowing to what has come of you two.

the moment softens.

and you're left with two fatigued bodies.

her arms loosen and flop on your sprawled lap, and her head finds a collapsed purchase on your shoulder. ellie's chest rose, fell, and rose again, swallowing up all the air her lungs lost in the heat.

"think I just died," she dramatically heaves from her chest, gulping up the pooled spit in the trenches of her gums. a giggle shakes her, "hehe~ did you die?" she jests, nudging her limp hand to your shank.

the words carrying to your ears mish–mashed into an agglomeration of sounds strewn from her actual sentence, "there's n'pie in the oven.." you slur breathlessly, tongue nearly lifeless in the pit of your mouth.

ellie tries her darndest to compress the laugh grizzling from her throat, still winded, "w-what babe?" her head tilts to gawk at you.

"god i'm so dizzy.."

she blows a raspberry from her lips and knits her brows– amused. of course she's a tad worried your energy had been worn from the fucking, but, that's the funny part. she actually did that. her buzzy voice coaxes you back to animation, "want some'in to eat?"

wait.

that's literally what you came in here for.

wait.

you peek at the green dome next to you, toppled over with dotted strawberry wedges scattered all over the stony tile– and your strawberry jam. really ellie? a pout cockles your lips into a plumper shape, notching your head on a slope, "did'ju knock over.. all of my strawberries?"

she swings her head 'round, feigning innocence, "umm– nope, wasn't me." puffing up her cheeks.

"ellie."

she blows tersely, "i didn't!" and throws her hands up defensively– in playful spirit.

"and you ruined my panties!" you scold lightheartedly and jab your heel in the back of her thigh– a little bit of punishment.

"ow!"

a reaction spurns from your lips, replaced by a jaded expression of hushed brows and trying lips that curl your face into one of, content. ellie forced a few puffs to spill from her open oval lips, hereafter curling into that same shit–eating grin that knows she's guilty– chuffed by herself.

then it wanes. wanes like the moon bearing its shrouded cycle. she softens up, softer than the bunny hopping across thick green grass in the season of beltane. this felt more fundamental to her than you might think, but, caring for you was her duty of worship. ever since that day she met you– the evening plait with a crimson ember engulfing air at the center of an autumntime bonfire in jackson. cold perspiration stuck to the glass held in your hands, talking the very ears off every owl present to listen. you had shared, sung, flirted, and saved the kiss for later. a later spent in her bed, all night– rising at dayspring, where she asked you to be her girlfriend at the foot of her door, just as you took your leave.

every wound you tended to, she tended to yours, and led you here. on this farm. in your own realm of heaven.

"but seriously– do you want something to eat?"

"yeah, i'll um.." you shoo her away from her parked poise between your legs, sliding your weight off the counter with a heft of your forearms pushing you off, "clean the counter." your toes ease onto the floor with a shaky wobble, unable to even straighten your legs out at first. damn, ellie, what have you done.

"yeah, nuh–uh," she briskly bends at the torso and bars her robust arms underneath your mid–back and in the fold of your knee, sweeping you off your heels.

"els, what the f–"

she tousles her woody auburn mullet in a wag of her head, crunching you up closer with her biceps, "you, babe– are going to rest. i'll clean the counter." her brows raise at the end of her emphasized sentence, a silent 'capeesh?'.

her amenability never ceases to blossom those heartstrings of yours.

"yeah, yeah.." your eyes toss around the rim of your brow bone, and land back on her in time to spot a chuckle churn her watermelon pink lips.

those lips then settle and purse into a pucker, idly sidiling her face plumb to your forehead and peppering a moist kiss, pulling back slowly with unhindered affection tugging the corner of her lips into a satisfied smile.

"see? m'taking care of you. just as if–"

"if i was pregnant?"

"mhm.."

"you want it that badly?"

".."

"well– maybe.. jackson has some adoptable kids?"

now you're just feeding that fantasy of hers.

taglist; @whore4abby , @picklesarenice69 (im too dumb to know who wants 2 be on my permanent taglist so pls tell me directly if u ever wanna be tagged in all of my fic posts)

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #farm!ellie #horndog!ellie #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #lesbian #sapphic #ellie williams concept #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #dom!ellie #breedingkink!ellie

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dilf-docs · 8 months ago

Note

hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v.(use protection guys pls!!! don't be like this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine.

Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif (unknown pinterest source)

#dilfistwrites #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #eddie brock fanart #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock smut #eddie brock fanfic #venom #venom movie #venom symbiote #venom smut #venom spoilers #venom 3 #venom the last dance #marvel #marvel smut

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munsonsreputation · 9 days ago

Text

every second counts

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.3K]

warnings: semi proof-read, no use of y/n, tooth rotting fluff, kinda meet!cute-ish(?), brief talks about insecurity, lots and lots of fluff and idiots liking one another <3

Summary: You and Steve find yourselves wanting more than just free ice cream and small talk—finally you conjure up the courage to get him alone and he wants to make every second count.

His foot anxiously tapped against the sticky ground behind the counter. The black rubber mat meant to prevent slips was caked with milky residue and copious amounts of sprinkles and a plethora of crushed cookies that he knew were going to be forever stuck onto the soles of his Nike’s.

His fingers clumsily hit buttons on the register, ringing up the customer in front of him in a haste eager to get them out of the way so he could finally get to you.

“Here’s your change, have a nice day.” Steve said quickly.

The upbeat customer service voice from the beginning of their interaction competely abandoned as he plopped the loose bill and coins in the patron’s palm, immediately peering past them to meet your eyes with a dopey smile on his face.

“Dude I think you gave me extra—”

“Have a great day!” Steve repeated pointedly through a tight smile, ushering the customer away as they furrowed their brows and exited the shop a dollar and eighty-five cents richer.

“Hey Captain,” You saluted sweetly, eyes drifting up to the sailor hat perched up on his head—he hated the stupid uniform but was slowly coming to terms with it just because it made you smile.

He tipped the hat towards you with a grin, “What can I get for you today? The usual?”

He was already moving smoothly from behind the counter, picking out the freshest waffle cone for you as he reached into the freezer, ice cream scoop in hand lingering over the cookie dough pot.

You hummed happily, watching as he loaded the scoop with enough ice cream to serve two. But he always did that for you—spoiling you with enough sweetness to cause a toothache—but it wasn’t just the sweets he was dishing out.

All you ever had were the three and a half fleeting minutes where small talk wasn’t enough, and even then he had a way of making your cheek hurt with how hard he made you smile and laugh.

Still, though, he hadn’t asked you out just yet. In the multiple times you had come in ordering the same thing, getting to know the handsome sailor a little more, he hadn’t asked you out.

You knew good and well who he was—the Steve Harrington that knew exactly how to charm the ladies—granted he still had the charm, but just lost a beat in his confidence.

It didn’t change the fact that you liked him though, you just wished he’d stop holding back.

He slid the freezer door closed, returning to the register and shaking his head as you attempted to fish out your wallet from your purse. It was routine by now, yet you wouldn’t stop at least trying to pay.

Maybe one day he’d forget about his ‘one free ice cream a day’ employee discount he always saved for you, but today wasn’t that day.

“It’s on the house.” Steve smirked, holding out the sweet treat for you to take.

You sighed dramatically, dropping your wallet back into your purse, fingertips brushing against his as you took the warm cone from his hands and offer him a thankful smile.

“Are you going on break soon?” You chewed on your lip, entirely ignoring the growing line behind you that consisted of impatient kids and equally ignorant teenagers.

“Uh…actually, I’ve still got—”

Before he could finish his devastating sentence, Robin came through the back room doors like she was his your saving grace.

“You can take your fifteen early,” she sing-songed, snatching the dish towel tucked in her apron and wiping up the milky droplets on the edge of the counter. “I’ll steer the ship for a bit.” She assured him with a wink.

You could read the look on her face, something that said ‘you’re welcome dingus, but you totally owe me later.’

Yet Steve hesitates just a beat, looking at you then back at Robin with a hint of uncertainty.

“Are you sure? I can—”

“Dude just go!” she huffed, whacking him with the towel and pushing him out of the way as she took his place at the register and passed you a kind smile, “Hey you.”

Just as much as you’ve gotten to know Steve, you have gotten to know Robin as well. She’s a lingering presence that occasionally joins you and Steve and makes you laugh just as much.

You know she’s perceptive—eyes always studying you and Steve’s little interactions, and you certainly don’t miss the way she giggles to herself when Steve passes you a compliment in the middle of a rush.

She’s more than a little familar to whatever is going on between you and Steve. He talks about you all the time—in the breakroom, outside the breakroom, while they’re lugging out the trash during closing, when he’s driving her home, when she lingers outside the passenger door while he speaks with the windows rolled down—she knows.

It’s why she obliges to let him handle the register, even when he’s shit at counting change and it’s also why she’s letting him take his fifteen minute break earlier than usually—because she can’t stand to see you two play these little games anymore.

“Hey Robin,” you replied warmly, flashing her an apologetic smile, leaning closer you whispered to her, “Swear I won’t keep him for long.”

She dismissed your apology, waving her hand in the air as her hand gently patted your shoulder.

“Keep him as long as you like. I’m pretty sure we’re short on change thanks to him.”

You giggled and shook your head, Steve rounding the counter and clearing his throat to garner your attention that he never lost. You waved bye to her, watching the smile fade from her face the second you fell out of line and a group of rambunctious teenagers begin spewing their order at her.

“Wanna go outside and sit? Somewhere quiet?” He offered realizing the store is packed, and he doesn’t want the one moment he has alone with you to be disrupted by Robin’s peeves and those impatient voices.

“Yes, please.”

You fell into step beside him, appreciating the feel of his hand hovering over the small of your back, leading you through the busy mall towards somewhere less crowded.

His free hand pushed the exit doors of the mall open, fresh air skirting across your exposed skin and finally serene silence engulfing you both. A happy sigh left your mouth as you take a lick of your ice cream, humming again as Steve gestures to a bench allowing you to sit first before he follows.

“So…” His voice unsure of himself, the sticky bottom of his shoe tapping against the hot pavement as his eyes fitted to yours, “How’s your day been going so far?”

You suppressed your giggles around a mouth full of ice cream. The small talk excruciatingly silly and absurd now that you two were finally alone. He mirrors your laughter, eyes closing as he chuckles and rubs a nervous hand over the back of his neck. He means well by the question, even though you both know there’s more intresting things you could talk about for the next fifteen minutes.

“So far so good,” You nodded, “I did some window shopping at the Macy’s but I don’t think I could justify blowing my paycheck on a pair of new shoes.” You straightened out your legs, rolling your ankles to show off your well-loved sneakers.

He nudged your kicks with his own, blowing out a puff of air as he shakes his head at your words. He knows from your fleeting conversations that you work at Hawkins Middle as a teacher’s aid—your sneakers caked with a different kind of mess than his.

Melted crayons, tattered gold stars, dirt, and god knows what else. You like what you do, and often reward yourself after a long day of work to grab a treat, though Steve hopes it’s also partly to see him.

“You should treat yourself, you deserve it.” He said considerately, his hand reaching out nervously to give your jean covered knee a pat.

You can feel the slightest shake in his fingertips even with the fabric in the way. He’s nervous, and even though you can’t fathom yourself being that special to someone, you know it’s because he likes you…truly likes you.

He uses everything in him to make sure he doesn’t make a fool out of himself in front of you. He chooses his words wisely, always watches for your reaction, always on the look out not to manage the impression he’s making, but trying to see if he’s what you like.

You’ve made it evidently clear as day, you feel the same way. Sticking around even after you get your ice cream, indulging by yourself in an empty seat as you trade smiles and soft laughter from across the store. When it finally slows down, he grabs the broom and floats to your side, asking how you’re liking the ice cream, before another patron comes in.

You can hear, even though the chatter of the shop, Robin’s whispers, telling Steve to hurry up and ask you out. And you agree with her, even with eyes trained to your melting ice cream pretending you aren’t listening, only to hear Steve reply that he isn’t sure he’s good enough for you.

That was last week and today you’re determined to not waste anymore time.

“Pretty sure this qualifies as a treat itself.” You purse your lips, lifting the cone up in your hand making him chuckle, “And I pretty sure, you’re out to give me cavities by how much ice cream your give me all the time.”

Steve holds his hands up in defense, the corner of his eyes crinkling as his smile never falters.

“Just want to make my favorite customer happy.”

“You make her super happy,” you nod shyly, taking an innocent lick at the melting ice cream before you look up at him again, “Could make her happier though.”

His brows furrow, smile twitching into a curious frown as he blinks, “How?”

“Asking her out on a date.” You speak without a second thought, watching his eyes widen a little and his jaw go slack, staring at you like you’ve read his mind.

Seeing Steve Harrington flustered isn’t anything new to you. In all honestly, you manage to elicit the feeling so easily, that it happens almost every time you interact. You find it endearing, the way he looks at you so softly and somehow thinks he doesn’t deserve to be yours.

“A…a date?”

You hum, taking another lick as you watch the realization cover his features, the understanding that you don’t want to dance around stupid little ice cream banter and small talk all the time.

“What about, uh, this Saturday, I’m—”

“Today.” You blurted without missing a beat, “Want you to take me out on one today.”

He wants to protest.

To tell you that you deserve to link arms with him when he’s freshly showered and dressed in appropriate clothing.

That he wants to plan something special: a dinner reservation at Enzo’s or renting out your favorite movie and ordering in your favorite food.

Hell, maybe that he doesn’t deserve you—that you shouldn’t waste your time on a guy who slings ice cream and couldn’t even get into any of his college choices.

But he can see the truth in your eyes, the same kind that lives in his orbs and within his entire being. The wanting of one another, the need to not waste anymore time that you two already had. He belittled himself for always cutting corners, but this didn’t feel like that at all.

It was mutual—the burning need to give whatever it was between you two a fair shot.

He sat up a little straighter, letting all that hesitancy be taken by the wind that coasted through the air.

“I get off at two. I’ll come get you in your car.” He began, the smile creeping back onto his face as he reached out and rested his hand on your knee with a sure squeeze, “We’ll grab pizza and then we’re going to Macy’s so I can convince you to get those sneakers.”

Your lips twitches with a grin, mouth opening to respond but before you can, he was speaking again—this time a little softer, a little more certain of himself as the seconds passed.

“Then I’ll walk you to your car and then ask you out on a second date.” He murmured, his face just inches away from yours as he kept watch for your reaction.

You beamed wide, leaning forward to press a stickly-sweet kiss onto his cheek, leaving his blood rushing and his heart thumping loud.

“I can’t wait.” You finally cooed, eyes filled with giddiness that never left his, like you were trying to savor the moment and make it last a little longer before you had to part ways.

“It’s melting.” He said suddenly, causing your eyes to follow his looking down at your knuckles where the ice cream began to slide down.

You laughed quietly, cursing at yourself for making a mess and grabbing the hem of your shirt as a napkin. But before you could, he stopped you, reaching the towel from his apron pocket and wiping away at the mess on your hands that began sliding down your wrist.

He was gentle and thoughtful, never tugging too roughly your skin or complaining about the ludicriously large cookie dough chunks making the clean up messier. Even then, during something so mundane and sticky sweet, the pleasure was all his, and god, you just knew he’d be yours.

“You just had to go and distract your favorite customer didn’t you?” You whispered with a teasing lilt, biting down on your lip as he folded up the stained towel.

His eyes lifted to your again, lips curling into a grin, “Gotta make every second count.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: first fic of the summer and i'm feeling really happy about it!! wanted to make this one short n' sweet and i hope i was able to capture that here. also does this qualify as a meet cute??? i'm not sure lol...i've only read a couple fics like that but maybe if i write another about reader and stevie's actually first meeting in depth it would qualify lol (forgive meeee). maybe will make a part 2? who knows. i have some more short blurbs and imagines i'm working on and i can't wait to post them!

+a/n: i also want to wish the love of my life, effie (@/translatemunson) a very happy birthday. she isn't one for grand gestures, but i'd like to think that in some magical way she manifested my come back (she literally did) and now i can give her this imagine + more fics to come as a bday gift hahaha. i love you so much effie. meeting you though this app and fandom all because of our beloved stevie has literally changed my life in the best way. you're the best in the entire world and im sending you so much love, laughter, virtual hugs + kisses, and never ending memes to last a lifetime. love you baby <3

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

#munsonsreputation #steve harington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve stranger things #steve x y/n #steve x reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington fic

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b0ng05 · 6 months ago

Text

Hi(gh) Milf! Wanda Maximoff x Stoner! Reader Pt.1

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Word Count: 3333

Prompt: Billy and Tommy are coming home from college for winter break, Wanda couldn't be happier. Until they show up with her least favorite guest. Enemies to lovers type of vibe 🥴

Warnings: Age gap, smoking, Angst

Also, Not Proofread 💅

Masterlist

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

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Wanda had always been a supportive mother to her boys, she’ll love them no matter what. They were her babies and could do no wrong in her eyes. Now, just because she’s supportive doesn’t mean she always approves of their choices. Like she didn’t approve of the way Tommy had wanted to bleach his hair over and over, mostly because she was worried about the health of it. Or when she didn’t approve of the boys wanting a pet lizard, but let them have it anyway to make them happy. Or how she doesn’t approve of Billy’s newest choice.

Billy had begun college and he had started making new friends. While that was great, there was one friend in particular that Wanda thought might be a bad influence on her son. Her name was Y/n, and as of late, Billy had chosen her to accompany him everywhere. They were like Dumb and Dumber, but put them together with Tommy when he’s home and it’s the Three Stooges.

From the first day Y/n had entered their home, Wanda could smell the reefer off the younger woman from three feet away. That accompanied with the stupid goofy grin on her face and Wanda instantly knew the girl was stoned. It wasn’t that Wanda didn’t approve of smoking, she just didn’t want her boys getting sidetracked with that new hobby and letting their grades slip in college, or getting mixed with the wrong crowd, nonetheless, she trusted them enough to ensure that themselves. And most of the time when the kids did visit back home with their new friend, Y/n was the only one stoned, and that only fortified the trust she had in her boys.

It was mid December, the air outside had grown cold and snow had begun to coat the ground in cold powdery layers. The Maximoff household smelt of fresh baked gingerbread cookies and a hint of cinnamon apples. Wanda had begun her baking when the boys told her they were driving home for Winter break. She was excited to see her kids for the holidays, to hear what she missed out on while they were away. She had kept herself pretty busy when the boys left home. She appreciated the free time to figure out who she was outside of being a mother, she had always had her own interests, but when the boys came along, they became her whole world. But now, she had time to try new hobbies and adventure out. She was happy, and it was a bittersweet yet tremendous feeling. So she softly hummed out a tune as she mixed together the cookie dough in the kitchen aid before her, lost in a peaceful bliss.

What Wanda’s kids forgot to mention to her, is that they were bringing Y/n with them for Winter break. Y/n had nowhere else to go for the weeks off, it was either go with the twins or be stuck on campus, the second choice didn’t sound too appealing. So, with a stash tucked in her duffle bag, she hopped in Billy’s suv. They had picked up Tommy from his dorm on the other side of campus, and began their journey back to the Maximoff home. The car was filled with the quiet hum of the wheels along the road and soft music playing in the background, the playlist courtesy of Billy. The twins occasionally chatted about school and the freshest gossip, the atmosphere was warm and comfortable.

As the car cruises down the highway, Y/n’s eyes fall to the window, her mind getting lost in a haze that wasn’t weed induced. Y/n felt guilty, of course she did. She may be stoned all the time, but she wasn’t a complete idiot. She felt as if she was invading the Maximoff household; it was clear to her from the first interactions that Wanda wasn’t necessarily the biggest fan of hers. Whether it was due to her poor introduction or whether it was how she dressed and acted, she couldn’t chalk up which one rubbed Wanda the wrong way. She didn’t want to impose herself into their home, but she didn’t have a different home to go back to. Her plan this winter break was to be out of Wanda’s vision as much as she could. Whether she had to hide away in the guest room all break, or if she had to duck out in Billy’s room. Anything to avoid the fake sugary kindness and judgemental glances.

Billy pulled over to a gas station along the side road, grabbing his wallet. He unbuckled his seatbelt, turning in his seat so he can view both passengers easier. “Alright, I’m running in to grab something to drink, you two want anything?” Billy asks, turning to look at Y/n and Tommy, who was sitting in the backseat with a bag of doritos in his lap.

“Redbull,” Tommy says through a mouthful of chips. Billy cringes, turning to look at Y/n, expecting to see the same reaction, instead he’s met with the sight of her staring off into space, lost in her own mind.

“You alright?” Billy lightly taps the back of his hand to Y/n’s shoulder to grab her attention from the dashboard. The woman jumps at the contact, eyes flying up to meet his.

“Y-yeah I’m good. Just- thinking about something. What did you ask?” She sheepishly requests, scratching the back of her neck.

“Want something to drink? I’m running in.” Billy gives a warm reassuring smile. He knew she was a bit spacey, whether it was the weed or her natural demeanor, he didn’t care. To him, she was good company either way. The day they got assigned to that group project together, he didn’t think much of her, just another person that was gonna slack on their end of the work. But as he got to know her, there was a lot more to her than the simple one-track mind that people assumed was in there. When the other two people in their group project had decided to slack off, she had helped him pick up the weight and finish the project with an A. When Billy saw her effort, he decided Y/n was someone worth keeping around. He knew Y/n was smart, the humble kind of smart. She may have put on a facade in front of others but behind it was a beautiful personality that just needs a little more effort to get to know. And in Billy’s opinion, the effort was well worth it.

“A monster would be great, thank you.” She smiles back. Running a hand through her hair to push it out of her face. Taking a deep breath to shake the lingering thoughts from her mind, blinking them out as she turns to face the boys.

“See, she has manners, unlike SOMEBODY.” Billy jokes, whipping his head to look back at Tommy, who comically whips his head to look behind him for the culprit. Billy snorts at his reaction, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Billy, who’s back there?” Tommy asks, his voice quivering, imitating genuine concern. A dramatic, chip-dust covered hand over his chest to clutch his imaginary pearls. His eyes wide and mortified.

“I can’t with you-” Billy bites back a laugh, shaking his head as he gets out of the car. He closes the door before walking into the gas station. Once Tommy sees that Billy has entered the store, he reaches up to the passenger seat, smacking Y/n in the arm with his hand. Y/n gags at the doritos dust he leaves behind in wake of his touch. Quickly wiping her arm clear of any lingering chip dust while grimacing.

“Dude, break one of those joints out.” Tommy requests, a cheeky grin on his face. He wipes his hands off with one of the wet napkins in the backseat, something Billy kept back there specifically for Tommy after a particularly harrowing trip to Wing Stop in the past. Y/n chuckles and rolls her eyes, shaking her head playfully at his request.

“No way, you know Billy is paranoid about his car smelling.” Y/n reasons with a mischievous grin. “Just wait till we get to your place, we can hide out in your old treehouse again and smoke.” Tommy huffs exaggeratedly and leans back in his seat, “Why can’t you be like, ‘sure Tommy, we can go outside the car and smoke?’” He mimics Y/n’s tone.

“It’s cold, I’m not freezing my ass off out there.” Y/n laughs, glancing back at him. He scoffs and retorts, “As if the treehouse won’t be cold.”

“That’s different because we can plug in the space heater up there.” Y/n points out. The treehouse was something Tommy and Billy’s dad had built for them before his and Wanda’s divorce. He put extra care and work into making it the best treehouse the boys could ask for. As over the years Vision’s efforts proved themself, the treehouse had held up tremendously well, only thing different was the red paint that began to fade in shades.

Billy exits the store, a plastic bag in his hand as he enters the car, passing the bag to Tommy to deal out.

“Ew, did you get sparkling water? What are you?” Tommy playfully mocks his twin, passing the bottle up to Y/n so she can put it in the cupholder. At his words, he receives a chuckle from the woman and a glare from Billy through the rearview mirror. “Gay,” Y/n responds for Billy, “He’s gay.” Snorting when Billy smacks her upper arm in a playful scold. Tommy snickers, passing Y/n her monster from the bag before cracking open his own Redbull.

“Says the other gay,” Billy quips, his lips quirking upwards. Y/n grins, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Takes one to know one.” She jokes, cracking open her can and taking a sip.

Billy and Tommy laugh at her words, settling back in their seats for the rest of the journey. Billy buckles back in his seat, beginning to drive again. Their trip to the Maximoff household is almost complete, only a few more hours ahead of them. The winter clouds brewing a snowstorm above them, dimming the daylight that remained. The heat of the car warmed Y/n’s cheeks, her eyes turning heavy and tired with the comfort. The sound of Britney Spears echoing in the car and filling the silence. Her eyes settled on the fields passing by, and it wasn’t long before her eyes fell shut and soft snores emitted from her.

A few hours later, the tires roll into the driveway, the snow quietly crunching beneath their weight. As Billy pulls the car into park, Tommy reaches up into the passenger seat, delivering a firm but gentle hit to the woman’s arm to wake her. The trio exit the car, collecting their belongings before making their way to the front door. It was painted a bright white with royal blue detailings and a golden doorknob to compliment the colors. A green christmas wreath with bells and ribbons hung from the center. Billy went to grab his keys from his pocket, but before he had the opportunity to pull them out, the door flew open.

Wanda stood before them, a big excited grin on her face as she opened her arms for her boys. She was wearing a grey christmas sweater with black reindeer patterns, a pair of black leggings and fuzzy socks on her feet. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, a small flick of flour littering her cheek. The big grin on her face dwindled slightly at the sight of the familiar y/h/c in front of her. Nonetheless, forcing the grin again to welcome them.

“Boys! Hug your mother!” She teases, pulling the twins into her arms. A small tinge of annoyance tweaked at the back of her mind, not knowing her boys were gonna have a guest with them. Her least favorite one at that. When they pull away from the hug, Wanda gives the best fake smile she can produce. Her green eyes looked the younger woman up and down, taking in her appearance. The younger woman was in jeans, a hoodie, and an old worn out winter hat, no jacket despite the cold temperatures.

“Hi, Ms. Maximoff,” Y/n pipes up with an awkward smile and a half wave. Not really knowing what to do, especially under the older woman’s intimidating gaze.

“Y/n, nice to see you again. Are you staying with us for Winter break?” She asks, praying the answer was no, but not getting her hopes up entirely. She knew that the chances of the girl coming for a quick visit was very unlikely. “Yeah, we didn’t want her to be alone in the dorms for Christmas.” Billy informs, trying to make his mother seek a little empathy for the girl once he notices the look in Wanda’s eyes. At the words, Wanda’s annoyance dwindles slightly, showing some understanding. She gives the warmest smile she can, opening the door to let them all in. “C’mon, don’t want anyone getting a cold, do we?” She says, nodding her head to gesture to them to come in. Wanda slightly grimacing at the whiff of weed on the younger woman’s hoodie as she passes through.

The group piles in, slipping their shoes off by the door before making their ways to set their belongings in their respective rooms. Y/n silently cursing the fact that the guest room was next to Wanda’s room instead of next to the boys. It would make hiding from Wanda a little harder than anticipated. Y/n sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh, mind flicking through anxious thoughts as she eyed her backpack. She grabbed a joint out, making her way into the bathroom connected between the guest room and Wanda’s. Locking both doors and cracking open the bathroom window, Y/n lights her joint. Letting her anxious worries turn into a comforting euphoria as she leaned against the wall, blowing the smoke out the window. Exhaling her worries out with grey puffs. Anxious thoughts dwindling, it wouldn’t be too hard to stay out of Wanda’s way right? All Y/n had to do was stick to the guest room or stick to Billy and Tommy like a parasite. It wasn’t that Wanda was too intimidating to be around. Maybe it was- despite the point, Wanda was stunning. Y/n didn’t do great around pretty women, she turned into a blubbering blushing mess. And especially older women, and Wanda hit both points dead center. She was absolutely stunning, effortlessly so. As Y/n smoked, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander thoughts of the older woman. How cute that speck of flour on her cheek looked, the whimsical pastel gingerbread men on her fluffy socks, every quirk and trait that had Y/n enamored-

'No- no, absolutely not enamored, this is my best friend’s mother for gods sake.'

Wanda was taking the cookies out of the oven, her mind sorting through her thoughts as she set the baking sheets on the stovetop. She began using a spatula to take the cookies off and set them on the drying racks. But the question lingering in her mind is, why didn’t Y/n have anywhere to go? She knew that Y/n never really mentioned her family but Wanda just chalked that up to the younger woman being a rather private person. From what Wanda had observed being around her, Y/n didn’t talk much, only jutting in with the boys when they’re joking around. Wanda knew nothing about her besides the fact that the younger woman was an English major that liked smoking the good kush and was unreasonably good at Mario Kart. That last one she learned when the boys came home for a weekend with her and they all ended up playing a few rounds while Wanda sat on the couch and observed with a content smile. As much as Wanda disliked the younger woman, she was a good kid despite the smoking. Y/n was always a help after supper, offering to do the dishes up as a ‘thank you’, cleaning up after herself, just random chores to help. Maybe, Wanda could try to make peace with the woman. Maybe a few weeks of winter break with her boys and Y/n couldn’t be so bad… Right? She just needed to try to be more understanding, maybe get to know her better. It was for the boys sake, right? Not the fact that she did find the younger woman attractive and a little endearing. Especially with how nervous and bashful she looks whenever Wanda is around, or that cute glimmer in her eyes when she won Mario Kart last time. What was she thinking? It's her son's friend, she can't think like that.

Then the scent hit her.

Wanda ran over to the oven, whipping it open and using an oven mit to take out the last tray of cookies. Slightly burnt and crispy as they clung on to the baking sheet. A small unconscious pout falling on her lips, her brows furrowing as she sets them on the oven. Turning off the oven and shutting it closed. “Damn it,” Wanda mutters, tossing the oven mit on the counter before making her way over to the cookies on the drying rack. Their gold hue mocking the burnt ones. Letting out a sigh, she turned to walk out of the kitchen to give them time to cool down. As she makes her way up the stairs, a faint smile graces her lips, hearing her boys chat in their room as they unpack. She goes to her bedroom to grab her phone off it’s charger, but pauses in her steps. Her nose tipping up as she sniffs the air, smelling something familiar, something burning. Her eyes widen slightly as she makes her way to the connected bathroom, knocking heavily.

“Y/n, you better not be smoking in my house!” She calls through the door, annoyance peeking through her tone.

Y/n freezes, eyes wide in fear and embarrassment of being caught. Quickly snubbing the joint out in the sink and stuffing the remaining half in her hoodie pocket. Panic filling her mind, what happens when she leaves this bathroom? Is she gonna be kicked out? Is she gonna get a lecture from Wanda?

She didn’t know, but boy was she scared to find out. But she took a deep breath, mustering up her courage before unlocking the door and opening it, revealing the brunette before her. Wanda’s eyebrow quirked as the scent grew stronger.

“Hiiii, Wanda.” Y/n drawls out, giving a guilty smile, sheepishly lowering her head to brace for the woman’s reaction. But to her surprise, a small laugh breaks past Wanda’s lips.

That guilty smile tugged at Wanda’s heartstrings in a way she couldn’t help. A small smile that Wanda tried to fight back, and a hint of amusement in her eyes, but she quickly tries to cover both.

“If you’re gonna smoke, go outside.” She reminds, lightly flicking the younger woman in the forehead before entering the bathroom to light a candle to get rid of the smell. Y/n’s eyes widen almost comically, surprised that Wanda didn’t raise her voice.

“Sorry, I know.” Y/n’s cheeks flush pink as she scratches at the back of her neck. Her eyes following as the older woman enters her bedroom again, standing before her.

“It’s alright, just don’t let me catch you again.” Wanda hums playfully, “Now c’mon, I need you and the boys to help me decorate all those cookies, wouldn't want my baking to be for not.” Nodding her head towards the door with a small smile, Wanda heads out into the hall.

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Authors Note- Okay, how are we feeling?

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #b0ng05

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sophiethewitch1 · 1 year ago

Text

What We Want - Chpt. 6 - Round Two. Fight!

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Damn. Your indulgent TV stalking of the Wayne’s really doesn’t hit the same once you technically knew them. And you were hiding inside one of their bedrooms, inside one of their clothes, using their TV subscription. It just didn’t feel right. Morally, of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about. No, you were just pissy your favourite pastime was basically ruined. You shovel another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth, glaring through tired eyes at the screen.

There’s an up-close shot of Dick Grayson’s abs. The presenter ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over his physical form, and you have to agree. You wish you had abs like that. Unfortunately, you did respond to most unwanted experiences with stress eating. As always with these celebrity figures, you can’t really tell if you want to be Dick or be with Dick. Your butt is nowhere near the level his is at.

While you hadn’t really set out today looking for shirtless pictures of the Waynes, it wasn’t like you were going to say no to them. So, when the gossip channel had switched from the reactions of the Waynes to last night’s fiasco to… this… you’d just kept watching.

You wonder if you should stop doing this. It’s definitely kind of creepy, and now you’d technically once been his… step-sister. What a mind fuck. You’ve been crushing on these dudes for a while, and now they were your ex-step siblings. This was like the start of a bad porno, but you knew you were not that lucky. And it wasn’t like you were going to start thinking of him as a brother any time soon. You hadn’t even met the guy. No, he was still firmly in the ‘celebrity crush’ section of your mind. Pretty and untouchable. The way things are supposed to be.

Which was also bad because you would probably have to meet and interact with him at some point. Probably in the near future. God knows you’d absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the fucking Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,. Twice, in fact. You didn’t even want to think about the display you’d shown for Bruce Wayne or Damian Wayne.

You didn’t really know what to do with your slightly obsessive crushes. And you could see it definitely being a problem in the near future.

…You decide that what you do in your private time is absolutely nobody but your business, and keep watching. It’s a mix of bitter spite and genuine mental breakdown levels of desperation that leads you to that decision. You feel like you’re a child with their toy being taken away, and it’s making you mad. And sad too. Even if you shouldn’t do this anymore, you still want to keep the habit. You’d mentioned before your creature comforts were one of the few things that kept you going. And while you were mostly very good at not being the jealous, heinous creature you really are, you knew you wouldn’t be giving this up.

They’d have to tear your gossip channels from your cold dead palms. You weren’t giving them up, not without a fight at least. Unfortunately for you, the universe seemed determined to wrestle away literally everything you loved.

Guilt’s for tomorrow. Today is for ice cream and purposefully ignoring everything. Speaking of which, you can not remember the last time you had a good Ben & Jerry’s. They were so expensive these days, as all groceries were. You simply couldn’t afford it. The Waynes, of course, had multiple tubs in multiple different options. Alfred had seemed delighted that you’d taken the ice cream, for which reasons you could not perceive.

Oh, yeah! His name was Alfred. Very butler-y. You’d remember it this time, he was a very nice man. And he called you ‘young miss’ which earned him points. He also didn’t seem to hate you on sight or treat you like a two-headed freak, like some of the other people in this household. Not naming names. Yeah, fuck that noise, Damian Wayne obviously has issues and it’s much less attractive in real life.

The woman drones on, and your eyes flick to your phone. Yup, she’s still yapping. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Dick’s abs or anything, it’s just that you think she might’ve been talking about this one specific photo for over half an hour now. Lady should get a hobby. Wait, wait, this is her job. Maybe you should start a podcast where you rant about the Wayne’s exercise regimes. It seems to be quite a lucrative field.

You shriek when the door slams open, nearly tumbling backwards off the bed. Hands manage to grip the bedcovers before you tip over, not making a complete fool of yourself. As it goes, you lose your spoon to the carpet. Bits of cookie dough spread over the floor in a divine sacrifice. And you lose your sanity to the man standing in the doorway. To be fair, he looks just as confused as you feel.

You blink at the physically perfect form of Dick Grayson and then turn your head to the TV to look at the other physically perfect form of Dick Grayson.

…You really wish you had a good explanation for this.

He mutters out your name, lips parted. Dick Grayson seems absolutely shocked to find you here. His eyes flick around the room and eventually land on the TV. Said baby blues widen to the size of saucers when the reporter makes a really, really unnecessary comment.

“And in news that broke the hearts of both ladies and gentlemen everywhere in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson has announced he will be returning to Gotham to assist his family in this difficult time. My cousin in the Blud is probably crying right now. There’s no ass out there quite like his, and there’s no replacement for Bludhaven’s favourite young rich bachelor,” she winks at the camera, and then the shot of his toned stomach phases forward to take up the entire screen.

Well, there’s a lot to say about that. First of all, fuck. Second of all, shit. Third of all, she really couldn’t have said that part about Dick coming back to Gotham sooner? Perchance, before you’d found yourself in this situation?

You said you weren’t that lucky, you meant it.

“But still, ain’t that lucky for us Gothamites? I myself have spent a lot of time on Dick’s Tiktok and Instagram, and his acrobatic videos have been used in a lot of my personal-”

You snatch the remote from the sheets and pause it right there. The silence is tense. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares at you. Completely stunned, mouth-catching flies. You want to pull the covers up and hide under them, but you don’t think that’d make him leave.

“I couldn’t find my room,” you finally manage to say. It’s the worst excuse you’ve ever heard, sounds like a complete lie. And yet, unfortunately, it is the truth.

Dick’s eyes drift to the TV, which you still haven’t unpaused. You can’t tell if it would be worth it, just to get rid of his golden brown abs staring at you judgementally, even if you’d have to deal with the extra embarrassment of the dialogue over them. Maybe if you muted the TV? It wouldn’t make up for the insult of his paparazzi photos on a widescreen.

It takes you even longer to come up with an excuse for… that.

“I was checking the news about last night,” you continue, the panic in you rising like a tea kettle left on the stove for too long. You might start shrieking like one too.

You don’t think he believes you. He looks down at the Beatles shirt you’re wearing. You know what he’s going to say before he does, but you still dread it.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” he mutters, his voice awed.

You want to say, ‘Nooo! No, no, no! Don’t do this to me, damn it! Not anymore! No more, please! It’s enough, enough suffering! This is genuinely ridiculous, damn you!’ but instead you reply with a shaky, “…Didn’t have any of mine.”

Also, you’ve been huffing Eau de Dick Grayson? That’s definitely in character for you. You want to beat your own head in with a stick.

“And I couldn’t find my room, and uh, thought this one wasn’t being used,” you continue, daring a glance back at him. He still looks completely stumped.

“It wasn’t,” he answers, but it sounds like he’s a thousand miles away.

You know, Dick Grayson was supposed to be a lot more charming than this. You’re almost proud you managed to stun the man into near speechlessness. Almost, almost. Almost not going to kill yourself once he leaves.

If he leaves. He doesn’t look like he’s getting up. You eye the gap between you and the door. Your animal brain is telling you to just run for it. But Dick has Olympic level athletics, and you don’t doubt he could catch you if you ran. Would he try though? That’s the deciding factor here.

He doesn’t seem like he’s actually going to fucking do anything though. He just keeps staring, like if he looks for long enough, it’ll all start to make sense. Which, you wish.

“Do you know where my room is? I couldn’t… remember…”

He nods, instead staring at his own abs on the TV.

“Can you take me to my room?”

He nods again. Still doesn’t look back at you.

“…Mr. Grayson?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. ‘You’ wouldn’t have used his last name, even though you might’ve. ‘You’ had been a casual person, as far as you could tell. That was the kindest way you could say it, at least.

His head snaps to you. He somehow looks more confused. You wonder if you should pinch him or something, god knows you’ve done your fair share of pinching yourself recently.

“Yes, right, sorry. Let’s… go,” he gives you a cheery smile, shaking his head, but it seems quite strained. You’re probably matching. This is the most humiliating moment of your life, and of course, it’s with the most beautiful man on earth right beside you.

A break. You want a break.

The two of you quietly shuffle out of the room, and when he guides you forward, you follow him obediently. Your head naturally bows, shame making it hard to look at him. You stare at the wooden floors as you walk. Watching it shine in the morning light that filters through the windows.

Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of a door that has obviously been avoided. Though it’s as clean as every other inch of this house, there are no marks in the rug from the door opening and closing. And even then, it seems… well, it sounds silly, but the door seems sad to you. Too many things seem sad to you these days.

Your thoughts must show on your face because Dick clears his throat and gives you a worried look. Is it rude to say you’re sick of those sorts of looks? That they just make you feel sick and burdened these days? It’s not like you could bring your family back from the dead, or convince your cheating boyfriend to not be a piece of shit. It was out of your hands.

“…Are you alright?” he asks you, blue eyes sincere. You tilt your head to the side.

“No?” you say, but it sounds more like a question. No, you are not alright. Yes, you will be okay. It’s the only option. It’s one of your rules. You have to be okay. You just have to.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost laugh.

“No,” this time your voice is firm, confident. Dick seems like he’s going to push it, but something in your eyes makes him stop. You give him a forced smile and say goodbye, closing the door gently in his face. Once you do, you crouch down and once again, press your face to your knees. Then you press your hands to your mouth and let out a scream that had been bubbling up for a while. After that, you feel you can live with the humiliation that is your existence without jumping out the three-story-height window.

You stand up, turning to the room. The first thing you notice about it is that there’s dust in here. Same as Dick’s old room. Now that you think about it, Alfred doesn’t seem the type who’d randomly leave certain rooms uncleaned, so it must be something he does out of respect for the tenants of Wayne Manor. Or maybe the old you requested it? God knows.

Sitting down on the old bed, your eyes rove around the room. It’s well decorated, as the rest of the manor is, but you can’t see anything that would make it your room. There’s none of the novels you’d collected from the used books store, no dorky little items you impulse bought, no pictures of your family. The apartment hadn’t had those either.

‘You’- she- seemed like a ghost to you. While you’d often felt like you’d barely been alive, simply going through the motions, this girl seemed like she hadn’t even been conscious half the time she was doing it. It made your stomach swim, your face pulls taught.

While you’d had few things holding you afloat, it’d been enough to keep you alive. Molly, your co-workers, the need to work so as to not starve to death. She hadn’t had anything like that. No liferaft. You’d been sputtering and gasping your way through life, and she’d been drowning. Maybe already dead, at the bottom of the sea, hair tangling with the seaweed.

This room feels like a coffin, and this manor like a cemetery. It makes you physically sick.

Showing off your fickle-mindedness, you realise that despite this being the Wayne manor filled with all your idols, you actually don’t want to fucking be here. You need space to clear your head, and the creaking floorboards that echo down the creepy hallways just don’t offer that. The atmosphere at your too-modern, too-minimalist apartment is leagues better than the atmosphere at this gorgeous old house which you’d usually love spending hours getting lost in.

Usually. Unfortunately, this place was more suffocating than the workplace when you knew you were about to get fired again. And you weren’t getting paid to stay here, so why the fuck would you?

Once you realise you’ve decided to run, you’re quick to pack up your shit. There’s not much in the room you need. A pair of sneakers, because you would rather die than put those heels on again. And you’ll grab some shirts because they’re comfy and remind you of home. Hopefully, it’ll make everything… grate… a little less. All of this is thrown in an old ratty backpack, which is then tossed over your shoulder. Shoes slipped on, and tapped against the floor so they’re on comfortably. And then you’re ready. Ready as you’ll ever be. With one hand on your phone, you take a peek outside the door. Coast is clear.

You press call for ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’. Jeanine picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, Jeanine Ryans here,” she says, her voice all business.

“Jeanine, I need an evac, stat,” you whisper to her, creeping down the hallway of the manor. The floor is unbelievably creeky, so it’s pretty fucking difficult to be stealthy about it.

“…What?”

“Get me out of this fucking manor, please,” you beg, now going down the stairs. Almost out, almost out.

“Right, on it. I’ll have a car outside in ten minutes if that’s alright?” Jeanine replies, immediately on the case. It almost makes you cry. You know she’s being paid for this, and very desperate for the job for some reason, but it’s still a hail mary that you are so grateful for.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you say, turning a corner and-

Oh, fuck. Damian Wayne glares down at you, green eyes cataloguing every single guilty piece of you in existence. He sees your hand tighten around your backpack, hears Jeanine telling you not to worry through your phone, and probably notices the way your eyes desperately flicker behind him to the door. To your goal, to the exit to this labyrinth.

You can practically hear the wind blowing, see the tumbleweed drift by.

And then, he moves past you, twisting his body so no part of it touches you. There’s a moment where your brain freezes, something spicy smelling (cinnamon, maybe?) flowing past you, and by the time you turn around, he’s gone. Your deer-in-headlights tensed-shoulders look falls, leaving you confused in the foyer. He didn’t even say a word to you. You felt like you just got passed over by a boss from a Dark Souls game.

…Well, you’ll take the wins where you can find them! Quickly, you hurry out the front door, skittering down the steps like some sort of rat. It’s a long walk to the gates, and you don’t really know how to open them to let the car in, so you decide to take your time and enjoy the walk. The early morning dew apon the clean-cut blades of grass glint and sparkle, the gravel on the road crunches under your technically-not-stolen sneakers, and even if it’s a miserable life, it’s a pretty day. From the hill the manor lives upon, you can see Gotham’s tall skyline, cloaked in its characteristic fog.

Eventually, you find yourself in front of the gate, where you can see Jeanine waiting with a black car on the otherside. There’s a big green button next to the side gate, which you press, and it clicks open. There’s a moment where your neck tingles, and you glance up at the camera pointed down at you. The red flickering light beside it holds your attention. You can see your bedraggled reflection in its lense.

Shaking your head, you move on, greeting Jeanine. She gives you a quick bow of the head and opens the door for you. You hike the bag over your shoulder, give the Wayne manor one final, lingering look and then you step into the car. Jeanine starts speaking to you about some future appointments you have, and you’re too tired to understand a word of what she says. She realises you’re not processing anything she says, and hands you a pair of headphones with a wire adapter.

You could kiss her right then and there. You don’t because that’d be weird, but you definitely think about it. Headphones on, you watch the rolling hills and luxurious manors turn into highways and honking traffic, to finally the upside part of town which was now apparently where you lived.

Eventually you find yourself being delivered in front of your swanky new apartment. With a passing goodbye, Jeanine tells you that she’ll be busy for the rest fo the day so if you need anything to call the number on the card she hands you. You tuck it in your pocket, certain you’ll lose it like every other business card you’ve ever been handed.

The elevator ride up to your room is contemplative. The music is boring, your reflection is bedraggled and tired, and the gentle feeling of gravity under your feet tugs at you. You rock slightly when you finally reach your floor. The doors open, but you don’t make any move to leave. They shut again, and you’re left staring daggers at your mirrored self.

You’d woken up, still here. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality. And more than that, it seemed more and more like you’d be staying in this reality. You didn’t think you could go home. Sure you were rich but… but your home. Your few things you’d managed to save. Your meagre group of friends and your hard-sought job. It made you nauseous. Where had you lost it all? Why were you here now? Why did you keep having to lose everything?

You manage to snap yourself out of it before someone else calls the elevator. Striding out of the space, you look to the right where you remember your apartment coming from. It’s not hard to find the unit, as there are only three on the entire floor. Rich people.

The door closes with a satisfying thud behind you, and you nearly melt with exhaustion.

This apartment is the ninth circle of hell for you. Scrambling around on your knees, you’re desperate to find the damn phone that won’t stop ringing. You can’t understand where the sound is coming from.

Under your bed? You shine your other’s phone’s light under it. Nope. Behind the dresser? Nada. You search inside the drawers and then peek inside the fancy lamp. Absolutely nothing. You’re ready to tear your hair out when you spot something… odd.

There’s… You think there’s something stuck in your floorboards. You dig at the space with your fingernails and the piece of wood pops open. Inside is… a cardboard box. An awfully familiar cardboard box, actually. The sight of your Mum’s old keepsake box makes you cry out with joy, lifting it from its little enclave. You’d lost a lot in the past few days but at least the old you knew how to keep your family’s stuff safe.

This apartment looks brand new. And apparently the past you dug into it to hide her stuff. You can’t really judge, you have a hidey-hole back at your apartment. It was a brick that had already been loose in the wall, so it didn’t feel quite as criminal as this.

The ringing is coming from inside the box. When you pull the lid up, you find a keepsake box a little different from yours. While yours only ever had your family’s old passports and photo albums, this one had a sleek phone sitting on top of all the mementos. It’s an exact copy of the phone on your bed- or well, it would be, if you hadn’t dropped it.

Two phones? This bitch was greedy. And so are you, eagerly sweeping the expensive item into your gremlin hands. Your thieving high is instantly quashed when you see who’s calling.

Of all fucking… George.

You roll your eyes before hanging up, tossing the phone to the side as you start rifling through the old keepsake box. You flip through family photo albums and lovingly cradle old stuffies. The phone buzzes. You ignore it. You find one of your mother’s old necklaces, and because you’re desperate for anything that can ground you, slip it over your head. The cool heart locket rests just under your collarbone, and you clutch it with one hand as you keep exploring. The phone keeps buzzing. It’s only almost half an hour later when you realise something about this is strange.

Why is George… not blocked? You glance down at the vibrating object like it’s radioactive, a despairing frown pulling at your face. Cautiously, you pick it up, making sure not to open the notifications lest it tell George you read any of his messages.

He’s… apologising for not being there for your birthday. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. And it’s not even a proper apology, it’s one of those ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings’ bullcrap. He keeps spamming you, and eventually, you realise that he’s not going to just stop.

You decide to nip this in the bud quickly because even remembering his cheating face makes you feel like throwing up.

‘You’: Why are you contacting me?

‘George <3’: Seriously? Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I was busy, you know that.

Stupidly, you reply:

‘You’: ‘No, seriously, why are you contacting me? I’m done with you.’

You wonder how you ever loved this jackass. Even if he was obviously more of a jackass here, than where you’d come from. He was just better at pretending there. You keep scrolling, ignoring the new texts that pop up. Your stomach sours at the number of texts he himself had ignored, of the amount of ‘sorry baby, can’t come tonight’, the begging, the pleading.

No, he wasn’t worse at pretending. He just didn’t care.

You wonder if this could have been you, further along down the line. Abuse happens slowly, right? Like a frog in a pot. You’d have forgiven and forgotten, written away his worse behaviours till you couldn’t anymore. Till you couldn’t leave, till you were trapped.

You think George Lancaster would’ve tried to. He would’ve isolated you from everyone you had left if he hadn’t screwed up and got caught.

You realise now there were a lot of red flags in your relationship with George. Molly always hated him and he hated her. He’d constantly complain about how much time you spent with her, spamming you with texts when you went out.

You were only… only two days since you’d actually broken up with him. Which was sort of crazy to think about. You feel like you’ve lived eons since then. Like that one traumatic incident aged you thirty years. Anyway, you still hadn’t processed the whole George thing. You’d been sort of busy fighting for your life.

‘George’: I’m here, can you at least open the door so we can talk face to face?

Freeze. A knock sounds, and your head snaps up to the front door. You don’t move. You just wish it away. The knocking only gets louder and louder.

You feel like a dumb girl in a horror movie as you walk towards the door, unlocking it and creaking the knob open. George Lancaster stands on the other side, and before you can slam it in his face, he grabs you by the arm and yanks you out of the door. And then he’s pulling you to the elevator, even as you try and get your bearings, get yourself away from him.

“You can’t just ignore me like this,” George says, pissed off to high hell, “We’re going to miss the reservation I booked specifically for you. I told you it was happening today and-”

There’s white noise between your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Told you? It wasn’t in any of the texts. He’s still talking even as the elevator dings, even as he shoves you in a white sports car that’s half parked on the curb. Even as he drives his way through Gotham’s streets, he won’t fucking shut up.

Why are you letting this happen to you? Why aren't you fighting back, wrenching yourself from his grasp? He takes you into a restaurant, one so upscale that normally you wouldn’t be able to get in for months, and your head snaps from staring socialites to watching politicians to gawking celebrities. You have the eyes of the world on you right now, and they’re all watching George yell at you.

And you can’t find your voice.

It's like a scab you can't stop picking at. Like you think this is what you deserve or something. And it's not. You know it's not. And yet you follow obediently, chastised and embarrassed, as he pulls you through the restaurant. When he picks a table in the centre of the room, you don’t protest. When he chooses your meal for you, even though it’s not to your taste, you don’t protest.

Looking at George, scrolling lazily on his phone, your hands clench against the table. They’re sweating, shaking, nails digging into your palms.

You… you didn’t have to break up with him again, did you? You realised it earlier, but you didn’t- it didn’t really sink in. Your first breakup with George Lancaster was a miserable traumatic experience, and it had been in the solitary streets of Gotham’s Narrows. This one, this one would be seen by literally everyone.

Nauseous. You feel so damn nauseous, your mouth dry as you swallow down bile. This was ridiculous. You couldn’t stand seeing his face. Was he texting her right now? God, did she even know? You’d just stormed out that night, running from what you’d seen.

George had chased after you. Had he left her there? Your stomach churned at the idea. You had to hate her on principle but, well, you also had to sympathise with her. Contradictions, that was the average you. You didn’t want to help this random girl. Didn’t want to have to ever think of her again.

…Staring at George, a definitively awful person, you can’t do it. Can’t just leave her to it.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you say.

“What?” George replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“I’m breaking up with you!” you shout. It’s not even intentional, just a result of being pushed too far, of breaking too easily.

The restaurant goes quiet. Guess you’re up for another scandal then. Whatever, it wasn’t like you would’ve lasted much longer anyway. This was all too complicated for your recently traumatised mind to handle. And it was just too damn stupid to bother with anyway. All of this was fucking stupid.

You included.

Just pull the bandaid off, right? You could already see how this version of you had so many scandals to her name. You probably should start giving a shit. Or at least trying to. You don’t think you want to, though.

George puts his phone down face down on the tablecloth, giving you a calm look. That slightly pitying stare activates something in your brain you didn’t really know was there. It’s a type of rage you haven’t known since you were a kindergartner and one of the other girls said you couldn’t play princesses. Since your first service job where your manager felt you up. Just pure, petty, anger. The type of anger ready to burn the world down as long as it burns whoever pissed you off as well. He opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, and your hand whips out and snatches his phone.

“Hey!” George says instead, his eyes widening.

You turn the phone back on. Hm, passcode. You flip it around and use facial recognition to open it. Despite the fact that George wears the most comically shocked expression, with saucer-wide eyes and a mouth open to catch flies, it unlocks. Nice.

“Hey! What are you doing?” George demands, reaching over the table for his phone.

You twist away from his reach. Password. You flip the phone, and despite George’s comically shocked expression, it still unlocks. He shouts again when it does, probably realising that you might be taking this seriously. That he might actually be in trouble. That his sugar mummy might not take too kindly to the numerous texts to other women on his phone.

…You really can’t believe you’re a sugar mummy. And for George of all people. What a horrendous waste of money, it’s fucking tragic.

He’s got the texts with someone known as ‘Pizza Hut’ pulled up, with some very flirtatious messages. You scroll up furiously, ducking under George as he gets up from the table and tries to get the phone. Still, backing up, the sight of a very poorly shot dick pic of George’s has you grimacing. Your focus on the picture, trying to decide whether his penis looked so unappealing before you’d learnt of his betrayal, has you distracted when one of the servers come around.

And, well, shirt, meet soup. Very, very hot soup. Everyone? Meet a screeching, klutzy moron.

George takes the chance to advance on you, snatching his phone from you. He doesn’t even seem to care you’re currently getting third-degree burns. The sting scorches through the thin fabric of your dress shirt, burning your skin. George grabs you again, his grip harsh enough this time you know it will bruise, and you can’t really say why you do what you do at that moment.

Your aunt used to have a chihuahua. It was an ugly, grumpy thing. She’d rescued it late into its life, and it had been treated poorly beforehand. It didn’t like to be touched at all and used to run from anyone who tried. And if you tried to touch it? Cornered it?

Well, of course, it started biting.

George’s howl is the most satisfying thing you’ve ever heard. His squeal of “bitch!” might be even more so. He slaps you away from him, and the sound echoes in the restaurant. Your face stings. When you land ass first in the puddle of still-too-hot soup, you wonder if you might try and bite him again. You don’t think you even broke the skin, considering you can’t taste blood. The other patrons stare on in genuine horror, like they’ve never seen a messy breakup before. One woman raises a hand to her mouth, and gasps-

You find yourself staring up at a furious George, one with a menace in his eyes you’ve never seen before. You wonder, idly, if he’s ever hit you before. Well, not you, but ‘you’. You realise now that he has the capacity for it, that he probably always did.

“What the fuck!?” he hisses, angry eyes darting from side to side, “Biting me?! In fucking public?! Have you lost it, you crazy bitch?! And you got my phone fucking soaked in soup!”

“Did you buy it?” you ask, wiping your mouth with your sleeve to get George’s dirty taste out of your mouth.

He blinks, confused, thrown off by your question, “Huh?”

“Did you buy that phone?” you repeat, your staring starting to turn into a furious glare.

You don’t think he did. Your George had never been able to afford those sorts of things, he’d been as broke as you were. Of course, you’d seen him lust over those items, but you’d always managed to convince him not to go into debt over silly things like sports cars and fancy phones. And even then, you’d been the one to buy him a PS5.

He looks down at the phone and back at you, and you can see his jaw tick.

“I bought it. That’s mine.”

“It was a gift. You’re going to be such a bitter bitch to take back everything you gave me? Gonna leave me out on the fucking street?” he says, spittle flying with angry words.

This was escalating fast. Maybe before you’d have been cowed by his words, but you were genuinely off your rocker by now and were very much willing to tango with this bastard. Like yes, he did terrify you, but so did everything else. You could handle this much at least. You weren’t ready to back down.

“And if I did? What then George? What could you even fucking do?” you throw back, voice rising to match his.

“It’s not your money either, it’s theirs, you little leech!” says the pot.

“Does it matter?” replies the kettle.

Pushing to your feet, you find George without another answer. He stands between you and the exit. With the plain murderous rage on his face, you think he’ll try to grab you again if you run past. He wouldn’t bite you back, but he might slap you or something. So instead, like any good coward does, you run straight to the girl’s bathroom. It hasn’t failed you yet, and you doubt it will today.

You shove into the bathroom, past a woman doing her makeup. Her head bobs up and down as she takes in your seemingly infamous face, and your stained shirt. You stride as far away from her as possible, darting into the last bathroom stall and sitting on the closed toilet lid. You pull your knees to your chest and hiss out a sound of frustration when that presses the sticky liquid against your chest and pants. Not your brightest idea, but you were sort of running on fumes right now.

The bathroom stall is extremely clean. One thing you were quickly realising about rich people is they didn’t have to suffer shitty public bathrooms. You didn’t think they deserved it. Like customer service jobs, and traffic, they built character.

What were you doing? Right, trying not to cry. You’re doing much better than yesterday. Still, sitting on top of the toilet’s closed lid, your phone pressed to your face, you wouldn’t say you’re doing ‘good’.

But because you knew George was too much of a pussy to ever enter the woman’s bathrooms, you refuse to move a single inch. You don’t want to go out there. At all. At all, at all. You’d tried to call Jeanine, but she hadn’t answered. Some P.A. she was. You still weren’t going to fire her. Then you remember that she told you she was going out later, and that she’d left a card with you. Digging through your pocket, you decide it’s finally time to die when you realise you lost the card somewhere along the line.

So, she wasn’t going to come save you as your knight in shining armour.

You can’t remember Molly’s number. Who did these days? That was your phone’s job. So you were left with… this. You were left with this. Four blocked numbers and a third had sent an automatic reply because he was driving. Alfred was probably busy. Weren’t butlers always very busy?

…Rich people weren’t often very busy. They had butlers and assistants to do all their chores. You unblock all four of the Waynes that you have on your phone.

The first thing you notice is the amount of texts between ‘you’ and Dick. Scrolling and scrolling, you find most of them are him checking up on you and one-word replies from the old you. He’s friendly and accepting, even when you respond in cruel and aggressive tones. The further back you scroll, the kinder your replies are. At one point it seems like the two of you had a good relationship.

You check the other chats. Tim’s message log is filled with coffee requests sent back and forth between you, Damian’s is completely empty, and Bruce’s has had no response from your phone in years. But eventually, you scroll back far enough that you find an actual conversation instead of just ‘Call Alfred’ repeated every few days.

‘You’: I miss them.

‘Bruce Wayne’: I know. I miss them too.

You press the back button, sighing. That felt like you’d seen something you shouldn’t have, like you’d peeked into someone’s diary. Which was unbelievably stupid. All of this is unbelievably stupid. You should just leave, you should just be brave. Two days ago you faced off against one of your worst fears, but today you couldn’t even handle George Lancaster.

You want someone to rescue you. You know no one will unless you ask. It makes you choke on your own self-disgust. This is the second time in one day. God, maybe you should just do it yourself. It’s not like you couldn’t pay for your own Uber.

And still, you find yourself clicking on a name and begging. Skin crawling, you type and retype the text probably a hundred times. You go from long apologies to begging to rants you never intended to send in the first place. Tap, tap, tap, and then you delete, delete, delete.

What you settle on is simple.

‘You’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

Maybe a bit too simple. You cross your arms and tuck yourself in the good ol’ fetal position. You feel like you’ve spent half your time holding yourself like this the past three days.

‘Dick Grayson’: I’ll be there in five.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

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