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builtbybrokenbells · 19 days

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Heartbreak Hot Seat | JTK

After seeking refuge at her best friends house, Y/N can’t seem to open up enough to let Josh help her with her troubles. In a twisted turn of events, it appears that his twin brother Jake has the perfect remedy for a broken heart.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 20k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), body worshipping, sir kink, impact play, praise, degradation, biting, nipple play, lots (and I mean lots) of dirty talk, lots (can’t stress that enough) of foreplay, body shots, softer sex (compared to what I usually write), overstimulation, multiple orgasm, (sort of) forced orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, begging, very brief and inadvertent mentions of free use kink, slight dom/sub, name calling, touch of angst, mentions of cheating/bad past relationships, breakups, sadness/depression (due to breakups), crying, long emotional talks, drinking, parting, Jake being too sweet for his own good, soft Jake, fluff, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!

hi guys ☺️ i miss writing Jake so much I had to hit you with back to back fics. this is literally porn w plot (over 2/3 of this is just smut I think), so I hope you enjoy this as much as I liked writing it! As always, enjoy, be kind, don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (I’m so, so happy to be back) (lightly edited 🥰)

“Here, you want to try this?” Josh asked, nudging your arm in hopes of breaking you from your solemn state. You blinked a few times, feeling his elbow on your skin, but his words were far away. They seemed like an echo in an empty room, like you had walked into the place only after he stopped speaking. Breathing seemed like a treacherous task, your bones aching every time your lungs inflated. You stared blankly at his hand, holding a fork in his grasp as he kindly offered you a taste of whatever he was eating. “Jake made it, it’s good.”

Jake made it.

You were sure whatever he made would be good, but the thought of food was worse than sickening to you. You wanted to be kind, to try the meal your friend (even if by extension) had made, especially after he offered you the hospitality for an afternoon hangout his home, but you couldn’t seem to accept the gracious offer. The crowd in the living room was overwhelming, despite only a few bodies being present. The chatter was loud and pulsing against your already busy brain, and Josh’s leg resting against yours was nice, but much more than you could handle in the moment.

Josh knew there was something wrong, but unlike usual, he could not seem to pry it from you. Over the last three nights you had spent crashing in his spare room, he used every ounce of energy to comfort you despite being unaware of what exactly your troubles were. You knew you could reach out to him anytime, talk to him about anything, but right now, it seemed impossible to speak the words aloud.

You had been friends with the boy for what seemed like a lifetime, surviving off his constant company and thriving off his eccentric personality. He stuck by your side through college graduations, career changes, and every challenge life seemed to throw your way. You were a busy woman, and he a busy man, and neither of you had much time for social lives outside of your demanding work schedules. Even so, that fact made your friendship all the stronger, because despite your lack of free time, you always made time for each other.

So when you showed up at his doorstep, 3am and crying while spewing absolute nonsense, he guided you to his spare bedroom and told you that it was yours for as long as you needed. The next morning, he came to check on you only to find you hadn’t slept at all. Hours spent sitting beside you attempting to cheer you up only resulted in further confusion and frustration. Despite his busy life, he cleared his schedule and made it a priority to be with you until you felt better. That afternoon, you managed some small talk, but avoided the elephant in the room. The next day, things felt a little more normal between the two of you. A few jokes were shared, and you even had a movie night in the living room with him and his partner. By then, Josh had vowed to let you speak on your own terms, but was doing everything he could to brighten your mood.

Today, when you woke from a broken and nightmare filled sleep, Josh knocked at your door to ask if you would like to get out of the house. After some internal debate, you decided it might be good for you, it might help you forget the only thing you could seem to think about, even if it was temporary. You showered (with Josh talking through the door and stressing the importance of self-care, of course), changed into some clothes you stuffed into a duffel bag during your quick escape, and the three of you hit the road.

After a short drive, you landed at the door of his twin brother’s house, where you would spend your afternoon. Jake, who you had heard loads of things about, was still a mystery to you. Between conflicting schedules and trying (and failing, sometimes) to find time to hang out with Josh, you never got much of an opportunity to get to know Jake, or even Sam for that matter. You knew he was quieter, a little more reserved than Josh, but was funny and had a heart of gold. You chalked up his praise to being his brother, but you never knew Josh to be a liar about anything. You trusted all he had to say about his brothers, and despite your sadness, you were excited to finally meet them properly, rather than just in passing.

You said a brief hello to Jake at times, mostly when you were leaving Josh’s house and he was heading in. You remembered him to be on the shorter side, but with a breathtaking smile and long, brown hair. When you stepped foot into the house and finally had time to appreciate the man standing in front of you, you understood Jake was a lot more than a pretty smile and long hair. He was stunning, and despite your broken heart, you couldn’t help but stare.

Not long after your brief introduction, the rest of the crowd begin to filter in. Sam and his girlfriend both seemed lovely, and Daniel and the friend he brought with him were just as nice. Jake had made lunch, and whatever it was smelled heavenly even if the thought of food sickened you. After a few hours of laughing and talking, the boys went back for seconds, clearing out the last of the food in the kitchen. The day was dwindling into evening, and you still hadn’t managed to break from your solemn state. You sat, listening to all of the conversations and laughing along to jokes, but didn’t find yourself with enough energy to contribute much.

Josh, clearly picking up on your lack of involvement, was doing all he could to help. Offering food was just another failed attempt of many.

“I’m okay, Josh. Thank you though.” You forced a smile, feeling guilty for your constant rejection. You wanted to tell him so badly, but every time you worked up enough courage to explain it, your words failed you and you thought you might be sick. His sad eyes seemed to be staring into your soul, and it was becoming too much to bear. “I’m, uh, is it okay if I grab something to drink?” You cleared your throat, asking for permission in hopes of changing the subject.

“F’course it is, mama.” He assured you. “You want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him, sliding forward and rising to your feet.

“Grab anything in the fridge. I know Jake won’t care.” He said, making sure you didn’t feel bad about taking anything.

“Okay.” You smiled, small but genuine. You didn’t feel deserving of Josh’s kindness, but you were still grateful he cared for you so much. If not for him, you would have nobody to lean on.

Quietly, you walked out of the living room and in the direction of the kitchen Jake had lead you to earlier in the day. When you were alone, you let out a long sigh. The kitchen was decorated nicely, simple but tasteful, and the sweet smell of whatever Jake had cooked was still lingering in the air. Instead of walking to the refrigerator, you took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs pulled out from the table, deciding a minute alone was more important than a glass of water.

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back on your shoulders. The chatter floating in from the next room was much less overwhelming, and you finally felt like you could breathe without the constant ache in your chest. Just when you felt like you were getting your bearings back, you heard soft footsteps puttering through the hallway. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the same one that was constantly bothering you since you showed up at Josh’s house, and prepared for another round of questions from your best friend. You didn’t turn to face him, figuring he would make himself known in due time.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” The voice was not as familiar to you, and definitely not the voice you thought it would be. You looked over your shoulder, curious as to who was talking. Your eyes landed on Jake, a sheepish smile on his face as he stood by the door.

“Hey, yeah.” You nodded, trying to make yourself friendlier than you felt. It was not Jake making you miserable, or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be having fun, to be getting to know the people most important to your best friend, but the weight on your shoulders made it so hard to enjoy the moment.

“I saw you sneak out, thought I’d come and check in on you.” He explained, careful with his words. “Mind if I sit?” You gave a chuckle, and genuine smile as you listened to his words.

“It’s your kitchen, Jake, f’course you can sit.”

“Right,” he nodded, stepping towards you. “Guess I was wondering if you were up for company, or if you just needed a minute alone. I know it can be a lot to handle when we’re all together.”

“No! You guys are great, guess I’m just not in it today.” You said, knowing he hit the nail straight on the head but you were too nice to admit it. “Come sit, please.” He did as you said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. He was in perfect view and facing you, giving you ample opportunity to soak in his features as he thought about how to continue the conversation.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. Josh mentioned you were going through a tough time when I called him this morning. We were kinda hoping it would take your mind off whatever’s going on.” You wanted to recoil at the idea of Josh sharing your sorrows with a man you did not know, but the intent was sweet, and you knew Josh would never do anything to harm you. He was just a concerned friend looking for a way to cheer you up. Jake, despite being a near stranger, had enough kindness in his heart to want to help too.

And sweetheart.

You didn’t know the man, nor much about him, but you definitely wouldn’t mind if he called you that again.

“Thank you,” your lips twitched into another smile as you looked down at your hands on the table. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”

“Josh?” Jake asked for clarification that he heard right, raising his eyebrow at you. You gave a small nod, almost wanting to laugh at his incredulous tone. “Yeah, I mean I guess. I kind of have to agree, cause he’s my brother and all.” At that, a genuine laugh filled the air, the first one that left your lips in days. Jake was hung on your laugh the minute it left your lips, finding the sound addicting despite just having heard it for the first time. The smile on his face made it apparent he only came to cheer you up, and he was happy he could do it even for a moment. “No, he is pretty great, even if I do hate him by times.”

“It’s a sibling thing, I think.” You said, looking back up at his face. “Love them, even when you hate them.”

“Exactly.” He nodded, agreeing with you. “He’s my best friend, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill him sometimes. Has a great heart, but he can be a bit… annoying.”

“Josh? No.” You scoffed, playing into the bit as clear sarcasm dripped from your tone. At that, Jake let out a laugh of his own. You watched, in amazement at how beautiful such a simple sound could be. “Seriously though, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Yeah, you guys have been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” He asked, leaning forward and into the conversation. It was your turn to nod, finding years of memories flash before your eyes when you thought of it for too long.

“Yeah, I met him as I was finishing up my graduate program in university. He’d just moved here, and I guess he was looking for some friends. Right place right time, I suppose.”

“Funny how things like that work out.” He said, listening intently to every word.

“For sure.” You hummed, pursing your lips slightly at the memory of how you met. “Ran into him at a bar, drunk off tequila and singing a terrible rendition of… oh, fuck, what was it?” You racked your brain, trying so hard to find the name of the song in the mess of your mind. “It was Neil Young, I remember that much.” You sighed, shaking your head at your spotty memory.

“Don’t Let It Bring You Down.” He finished for you, a sparkle shining in his eye as he saw your expression light up.

“Yes! How did you know?” You asked, shocked he knew before you did.

“I was there that night, and I definitely made fun of him just as much as you did.” He explained, chuckling at the thought.

“You were there?” You asked, even more surprised at that fact.

“Yeah, think I was playing pool with Sam. Josh sucks at pool, so he was trying to find a thrill elsewhere. He told us he met someone, he really liked their ‘energy’. Guess he was talking about you.” He continued, nodding at himself as he recollected the night from so long ago. “That, and he sings that damn song every time he drinks tequila.”

“Huh,” you huffed, wondering how you managed to miss him that night. “I guess I was out the door pretty fast. I don’t even think I talked to Josh for very long. Got his number and we were off to the next bar. We loved to party back then.”

“Shame, cause he’s been keeping you an awful secret for the last few years.” Jake let out a disapproving tsk at the end of his statement.

“No, it’s not him.” You promised, shutting down the notion. “Life’s crazy. I’m either always stuck at work, or at home—“ you cut yourself off, hearing the sound of the word fall from your lips. It was wrong, and so much so that it twisted your stomach with nausea. “Stuck at work.” You doubled back, feeling a frown start to form again. The word home felt like a sour taste in your mouth that you couldn’t swallow back.

Jake watched you for a moment, curious about your sudden change of heart, but understanding it might not be the best time to venture into it.

“Did you want a drink, sweetheart?” Jake asked, his eyes flickering to the fridge. “Maybe something to take your mind off it?” You debated, wondering if it would better or worsen your mental state. Before you could decline, he spoke again. “I was gonna have one anyway, so it’s no trouble at all. Be nice to have someone to drink with, anyway.”

“Fuck it, why not?” You breathed, watching as another breathtaking smile blossomed on his lips. “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great.” He stood, taking two steps past you as he approached a cabinet by the refrigerator. “Want to come have a look?” He offered, looking back over his shoulder at you. You shrugged, nodding as you stood to join him. He opened the doors, revealing a plethora of bottles that all looked a little more expensive than you were used to. “Whatever you want.”

You noticed how close he was standing, how sweet his cologne smelled as it wafted in your direction. It was musky, ambery even, with sandalwood standing strong against the undertones. He had his finger resting against his chin as his eyes scanned the labels, clearly unsure of what he wanted, too. You couldn’t help but study the intricacies of his face, the bridge of his nose and how it casted a shadow over his soft cheeks, the unintentional pout of his bottom lip, and the enchanting colour of his irises. He was stunning, and it was hard not to notice it.

‘Stop it, Y/N. You’re in no position to think anyone is attractive, let alone your best friends brother.’ Your thoughts were right, full of warnings you knew you should listen to, yet there was something so enchanting about Jake that made it difficult to listen. ‘Thinking he’s attractive is only bad if I plan to act on it, which I’m definitely not. It’s okay to admire him, as long as that’s all it is.’ You felt the devil weigh in on the matter, and for some reason, that train of thought was much easier to go along with.

So you did. Simple as that, you decided to allow yourself the pleasure. It was almost as simple as acknowledging how beautiful Jake was.

“Anything catching your eye?” He asked, looking over at you. You knew he was aware of your staring, and when your eyes caught his, your cheeks tinged red. He gave you a smile, silently telling you all was well.

“There’s so much to choose from.” You said, forcing yourself to look back at the liquor cabinet.

“Do you like it straight, or do you prefer something sweet?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you once again. Although the question was innocent and clearly pertaining to the topic at hand, you couldn’t help but feel your heart speed. Your body was encased in goosebumps at the simple thought of him meaning it in any other way.

“Usually sweet, but I think today I could handle it straight.” You replied, having to tear your eyes away from him again. Had you looked for a moment longer, you might have noticed the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“This is my favourite.” He said, reaching out and grabbing an expensive looking bottle. He brought it down to your level, leaning into you slightly as he let you read the label for yourself. As his arm brushed against yours, you felt the same pull of your heart as you did when he first sat across from you.

“I’ll try it out.” You mumbled, a little breathless as he looked over your face.

“Good taste,” he hummed. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He assured you, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip ever so slightly.

“I trust you.” You said, feeling like you were coercing your tongue to speak the words.

“You should.” He responded, waiting for you to step away first. It felt like an eternity before you stepped backwards towards the table, but when you did, you missed the closeness of him almost immediately. The warmth of his body against yours was memorable, and definitely something you wanted to feel again.

You returned to your seat at the table, followed closely behind by Jake. Before he sat, he grabbed two glasses and the ice tray from the freezer. Carefully, he poured yours first before adding a few ice cubes to the cup. Then, he nudged it in your direction before fixing his own drink.

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” He asked, swirling his ice around his cup before bringing it to his lips. As he sipped at the amber liquid, his eyes never left your face.

“Oh, nothing important.” You shook your head, averting your gaze to the glass in your hand. You did the same, raising the crystal to your lips and drinking down the alcohol like it was water.

“You’re drinking that awfully fast for someone who’s got ‘nothing important’ going on.” He noted, cocking his head to the side for a moment, as if he was trying to figure you out. “I’ve got an ear to lend, if you want to talk.” He offered, but opted not to press any further. He didn’t want to force you if you weren’t willing, but he did want you to know that the floor was yours if you needed.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” You chuckled, watching the condensation of the glass drip onto your fingers. The chill of the liquid distracted you from the severity of the topic. “You’ve been kind enough already, Jake. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for inviting me.”

“No thanks needed, y/n. Seriously, Josh talks about you enough that I feel like I already know you, and trust me when I say, I like you just as much as he does.” He promised, taking another small sip of his drink. “And I offered, sweetheart. I want to listen, even if you don’t think I do.”

“What is with you two?” You chuckled, shaking your head at his staggering kindness. “Too nice for your own good, both of you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” He grinned, finding your exasperation amusing.

“No, it’s not.” You shook your head, feeling your heart warm with gratitude for the two brothers. You barely knew Jake, but you agreed with what he said. Josh spoke about him enough that you felt like you were friends already, and by all of the nice things Josh had to say, you definitely liked him. Since stepping foot into the kitchen, you had come to greatly appreciate him for other reasons, too.

“That’s the heartbreak chair.” He explained, running a hand through his hair as he pushed it away from his face. “Something about it draws people in.” Your eyes flickered up to his face, shocked that he made such an assumption, and even more surprised that it was right. He barely knew you, but he could tell without you having to say a word.

“It’s that obvious?” You asked. He shook his head, rubbing his chin in his hand for a moment before he spoke again.

“No,” he cleared his throat, taking in a long breath before he continued. “Like I said, there’s something about that fuckin’ chair.”

“How so?”

“Two years ago, Sam sat there when his girlfriend broke up with him. Must’ve spent the whole night sitting there, drinking away the pain.” He said, thinking back on the event. “And Daniel, a few months back when him and his girlfriend went separate ways. Even Josh, a long time ago when we first moved here.” He explained. “Whatever it is, when people get their heart broken, they sit there. I usually sit here, but it’s not always me they’re talking to. Sometimes it’s Josh, or another friend, or anyone really.” You thought about his words, carefully considering your next question before asking it.

“Have you sat here?” Your eyes were showing the sadness you tried so hard to hide. You didn’t know why, but you were comfortable with Jake. You wanted to talk, to tell him all about the sadness plaguing you. Something about him made you believe that your sorrows were safe with him, and that he was the key to feeling better.

It was an invasive question, something personal and maybe too complicated for him to answer. You regretted asking, but hearing about his brother's sorrows didn’t sit right with you. If you were giving him a piece of you, you wanted a piece of him. He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between your face and the whiskey in his cup. Eventually, he gave a slow nod.

“More than anyone else, I think.” His honesty was sobering, and it was admirable. Because of his willingness to share his sadness with you, you felt even better about opening up to him. “I’ve never been lucky in love. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.” He shrugged, the joke rolling off his tongue effortlessly despite the hidden pain in his eyes. “About six months ago, I was doing the same as you. Came home, she was gone without a trace. I stayed a few nights at Josh’s house, just ‘till I was strong enough to come back here, and I drank it all away. I’ve sat in that chair, sweetheart. You’re not the only broken heart this house has seen. Trust me.”

“It’s hard to open up to Josh about it.” You said, forcing your hand to hold the glass to the table. The burn of the alcohol in your chest was much preferred to the ache in your heart, but you persevered. “‘Specially when I watch how happy and in love he is. He’s got everything, you know? Nice house, kind heart, beautiful face, and a wonderful boyfriend. It’s intimidating talking about my mess of a life to someone who always seems to have their shit together.”

“I can see what you mean.” He nodded along, agreeing to an extent. “You know, he’d never think differently of you. He loves you a whole hell of a lot.”

“I know that, but I think when you’re this miserable, it’s hard to believe anyone cares that much.”

“For sure.” He said, swallowing down another mouthful of whiskey.

Just as he placed his cup down on the table, the distant chatter in the living room began to move closer. Both of you turned to the entryway to the kitchen, wondering what the disturbance was. Soon enough, the crowd filled the doorway, but only Sam and Josh were visible.

“Think we’re gonna head to the bar, you two in?” Sam asked, oblivious to the situation in front of him.

“I’m good.” Jake said, his tone firm and certain of his answer. Josh looked at you, curiosity in his eyes as he waited for a response.

“Y/N?” Josh asked, wondering if you were joining them. You looked between the twins, your eyes lingering a bit too long over Jake. When you looked back at Josh, you shook your head slightly.

“Think I might hang out here a bit longer, if that’s okay?”

“F’course it is.” Jake chimed in. “You go, I’ll get her back to your place safe and sound.” Josh looked to you once more, making sure you were alright. You gave him a smile, nodding your head in agreement with Jake.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. Love you, mama.”

“Love you too, Josh.” You smiled again, wider and with more warmth than ever.

With that, the group moved towards the door, and they were out in the yard within seconds. The silence hung heavy between you and Jake, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. So far, despite you being a stranger, your talk with Jake had been nothing but comfortable.

“So, does that mean you don’t think I have my life together?” Jake continued where you left off, clearly teasing. The smile on his face gave him away as he pulled his chair a little closer to you.

“‘Spose I don’t know you well enough to know, yet. From what I see, looks like you do, if that counts?” He let out a laugh, finding your humor despite the pain beautiful.

“You hungry?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Noticed you didn’t eat earlier.”

“Think I missed the draw on that one.” You said, looking at the empty dish on the stove. He stood, wordless as he walked to the refrigerator. He searched for a few seconds before pulling out a plate, flashing it in your direction.

“Put some away for you, just in case. I knew they would eat it all, so I just wanted to make sure there was some left.” He explained. The sound of his words made your heart ache, but it wasn’t in a bad way; the simple action, especially coming from someone who barely knew you, made the whole world seem a little bit brighter. You understood Josh’s constant talk of how big of a heart Jake had now that you had the chance to see it for yourself.

“Thank you, Jake.” You mustered the strength to speak, in awe of his attention to detail. He stuck it in the microwave, waiting for it to beep before placing it in front of you with a fork. Without mentioning it again, he sat back in the same spot, as if the last few minutes had never happened at all.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked again, more direct this time now that he felt he had some kind of leverage. Clearly he made a good enough impression on you, considering you hadn’t run out the door when the opportunity arose. Before responding, you took a few bites of the meal he’d made in preparation for his company. Your eyes fluttered closed in bliss, the taste something you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if it was just because he was a good cook, or if it was because it had been days since you had a proper meal. Maybe, it was a combination of both.

For such a simple looking pasta dish, it was beyond anything you had ever eaten before.

“This is so fucking good, Jake.” You commended him for his efforts. He let out another laugh, happy that you were enjoying it.

“Good to know,” he nodded. “I’ll have to make it for you again sometime.”

“You’ll never get rid of me.” You joked, placing the fork down for a moment, wanting to make the meal last.

“Not the worst idea in the world.” He shrugged. You felt your cheeks dust with redness, his words almost too sweet for you to handle. You washed down the pleasant feeling of his compliments with another sip of whiskey, settling back in your seat as you prepared to confess.

“I think I’ve always been too blind to see the bad side of people,” you started, simple and easy to kick off the topic. “I like to see the best in everyone, ‘till the very end.”

“Admirable.” He responded quickly, shocking you with his interest in your sorrows.

“I dated this guy for a while, a few years at least. Guess it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but I loved him, or the idea of him, more so. He moved in with me not long after we met, and it was nice. Things seemed real good for a long time, but a couple months ago, he kinda pulled back a bit. I didn’t think much of it, ‘cause I was working all the time anyway, but I probably should have.” You sighed. “I started noticing he was gone when I came home at night, or when he went out, he stayed out far too late for a couple drinks with friends. Found some… suspicious things around the house, but chalked it up to a bad memory.” You laughed, shaking your head at your own stupidity. “I went home after work on Friday, and he was in bed with another girl. Mutual friend, real pretty, sweet on the surface… everything that I’m not.”

“That’s not true, sweetheart.” He shook his head, stopping that thought before it could go any further.

“Think we were long overdue for a breakup, but I thought it would be more decent than that.” You shuddered, recalling the moment that had been plaguing you for days. “I’m less heartbroken over him than I am for the whole thing. It’s just… dehumanizing, I guess. How many times did we… you know, after they started? And in my bed? Where I sleep at night?” You continued, watching the ice circle the bottom of your cup as the liquid neared the end. Jake reached out for the bottle, popping the cork and refilling your glass for you. You smiled, a silent thank you for everything he was doing.

“There wasn’t really a fight, or anything. I mean, I yelled for a little while, but it wasn’t worth my time. I told him to pack his shit and get out, and I assume he did. I haven’t been back, but I haven’t heard from him, either. Guess I just… don’t want to be in that place right now, alone, with that memory.”

“Don’t know the guy, but I can tell you he’s a fucking idiot.” He said, throwing back the last of his drink and refilling his own cup. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to be home. Like I said, I stayed at Josh’s for a while too. Sometimes it’s nice to get out of the place full of stuff that reminds you of them.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You gave a somber nod, blinking away tears threatening your eyes. “Think it always circles back to the same thing at the end of the day… hard not to think it’s me, that I wasn’t enough, or if I could have done more. That’s the hardest part of it, really. Not like he was the boyfriend of the year or anything, but I never would have done that to him.” You took another long swig of whiskey, feeling your head begin to swirl with intoxication.

“It’s not you, Y/N. You know better than that.” He said, furrowing his brow as he thought over your story. “So what is it? What do you need?”

“What?” You asked, unsure of what he meant.

“He got what he wanted, so what do you need, sweetheart? To scream? Cry? To get so drunk that you don’t know where you are?” He listed the offers, as if they were all completely reasonable and understandable. He didn’t want to speak empty words, or give you reassurances that would wash right off your shoulders once he was done speaking. He wanted to help you feel better, however he could. “We could even key his car, if you know where to find it.”

You let out a laugh, one that shook your shoulders and made your stomach ache. While you laughed, tears slipped on to your cheeks, but they did not phase you. Jake’s company was so fantastic that the hurt didn’t even seem to bother you anymore.

“You’re too beautiful to be crying over someone like that, sweetheart.” He leaned over, using his thumb to brush away the teardrops staining your cheeks. Once he finished, he cupped your cheek in his palm, ensuring you knew he was being truthful.

“No idea how you’ve never been the bride, Jacob.” You said, exhaling a long breath as you melted into his touch. It felt nice to be touched at all, and even better to be touched by someone who cared. It felt like it had been an eternity since you had experienced that in particular.

“My day will come, just like yours will.” He promised. “I know it hurts, but with time, you’ll thank him for it, because a girl like you shouldn’t end up with a guy like that.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, the utmost sincerity in your voice.

“Don’t mention it.” He brushed off the thanks, smiling over at you. “Now what is it? What will make you feel better, right now? ‘Cause I’ll be damned if I send you out the door before you feel better.”

“I just want to stop.” You sighed, rubbing your face in your hands. “I want to stop hurting, to stop thinking about him, to stop feeling like a different person. I want to feel like me. I want to feel good, instead of being miserable.” Jake leaned back in his chair, watching your face carefully as he thought about your request. You looked over at him, chuckling at yourself. “I know, steep request. Probably not much in the world we can do about that. Yet, anyway.”

“No, there is.” He cleared his throat, pursing his lips together slightly. You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued by his response.

“Go on.” You urged him, curious about his idea.

“I don’t know if I can help you feel exactly like yourself again,” he started, looking up at the ceiling while he tried to word his response. “But I definitely have a quick solution for some of those problems.”

“Let’s hear it, then.” He smirked at your eagerness to feel better. Before he continued, he threw back the last of his drink for a second time. You could tell he was feeling it now, too. His cheeks were tinged pink and his eyes grew heavier the longer he sipped away.

“You’re open to any suggestions?”

“Well, most.” You huffed, almost annoyed by how long he was dragging this out. “Maybe not murder or armed robbery.” He laughed at your exuberance, shaking his head slightly.

“Well, sweetheart…” he sighed. “You want to stop thinking about him, and you want to feel good.” He listed, waiting to see if he was correct. You nodded in response, still not seeming to piece the two together. “If you’re open to trying it, I’m sure I could solve both of those problems at once.”

“Okay, Jake, this is not helping. Can you just—“ you cut yourself off, your eyes widening in shock as the puzzle finally clicked in place. You swallowed hard, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. As you looked at his expression, your cheeks burned red and your throat went dry. “Just to clarify, are you offering what I think you are?”

“Depends, beautiful.” He said, his tone soft and his eyes trained to your face. “What do you think I’m saying?”

“Are you offering to fuck me?” You wanted to be repulsed by the idea, but you were far from it. If anything, the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach told you the exact opposite, imploring you to fall into his arms and let him do as he pleased with you.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that would get your mind off him.” He argued his point, playful and calm so you knew rejection was more than allowed. “And if you’ll let me, I know I could help with that other part, too.” He let out a small huff of breath, as if he was excited just by the prospect of the opportunity.

“You offer that to every heartbroken girl who sits in this chair?” You asked, ensuring he knew you weren’t denying the offer.

“No,” he shook his head. “You’d be the first, and the only one, I think.”

“You think?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Never know what the future brings.” He shrugged, trying to keep his composure. As soon as he saw your bewildered face, he doubled over in laughter. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, but when he did, he did not seem to retract his statement. When he realized you took his words seriously, he stood from his chair, stepping towards you as he spoke.

“Yes, sweetheart. The only one. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He asked, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Yes, maybe? I don’t know.” You said, your eyes darting around the kitchen to avoid his heavy stare. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this situation, so I’m not sure how to react.”

“Only if you want to, of course, but the offer is on the table.” He said, retracting his hand so as not to pressure you into it. You took a drink from your cup, finding your chest burning as you did so. Difference was, you knew it was not because of the liquor. As you sat the cup back on the table, you looked up at him, inspecting him closely.

He was attractive, and that was undeniable. You had been thinking about it since the minute you saw him, and you couldn’t seem to get the thought out of your head. Just half an hour ago, you were shivering from the closeness of his body when you were standing by the liquor cabinet, and now you were quivering just from the thought of his hands on your body. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but in the moment, what he was saying made sense to you.

He was hot, you were desperate to forget, and he was offering a quick solution.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Why not?” He watched you for another moment, standing still while you decided for certain that’s what you wanted to do. “Uhm, we won’t tell Josh about this, right?” You asked, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you.

“Definitely not.” He laughed.

“And it’s just that? Just sex?”

“Just sex, just tonight, if that’s what you want.” He assured you.

“Okay.” You nodded again, more confident this time around. “Just sex, just tonight, with a guy I just met, who happens to be my best friend's twin brother?”

“It sounds better my way.” He said, taking a step towards you.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Sex with someone who is happy to make you feel better.” He spoke quietly, kneeling down so he was eye level with you. His face was closer than it had been all night, and if it were even possible, he was even more stunning up close.

“Yeah, that does sound better.” You agreed, smiling slightly as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Jake seemed to prompt more of a physical reaction in you just by looking at you than your ex did in the entire time you’d been with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the whiskey combining with the heartbreak forcing you to make a deadly decision, or if it was just the fact you were attracted to him. Either way, you knew you couldn’t leave his house without a taste of what he was offering, because he had excited you just by mentioning it. You felt like leaving him without knowing what he could do for you would cause more grief than your breakup had in the last few days.

“So what do you say, sweetheart?” He asked, reaching forward and brushing his knuckle over your burning cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, but you tried not to let it phase you too much. “You want me to help you forget about him?”

“Think you already have.” You mustered the strength to speak, but not the strength to look him in the eyes. You were sure if you did, you would turn to putty in his hands.

“So you’re saying you don’t need anything else?” He pried, finding the teasing amusing now that he knew you were okay with his actions.

“No, I definitely do.” You corrected him, finally opening your eyes to look over his face. “I really do.”

“Tell me what you need, angel.” He said, flattening his palm against your cheek again. His fingers were tangled in the loose strands of hair hanging over your neck, the action more telling than the last time he touched you. It was firm, more reassuring, and meant to solidify his feelings about the situation.

“You,” you bit the inside of your lip, almost embarrassed about your need for him.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Think we’re long past that.” He said, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Although he had full intent to follow through with his earlier promise, he wanted you to be in charge of the matter.

“Kiss me, please.” With that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours as he held your face in his hand.

His lips still tasted like the alcohol he was sipping on, and his skin was still cold from the ice in his cup. Even so, the chill of his skin was quickly offset by the warmth of his tongue as it glided past your lips. The feeling was addicting, much more intense than you thought it might be. Your hands reached out for him, desperate for more. His fingers seemed to be burning into your skin, the touch electric and the sensation ten times more powerful than anything you had ever felt before. The emotion flowing through you from such a simple action was immeasurable, and you already needed more.

“Like that, sweetheart?” He asked, his lips still ghosting over yours as he presented the question. You were breathless, your head spinning and your mind completely free of the painful thoughts that previously seemed permanently attached to you.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your voice quiet. You could feel him smiling, cocky enough to know his plan was already working. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Come with me.” He said, moving away from you and rising back to his feet. Although you were sad he pulled away at all, you knew it was for a better reason. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and his own cup, waiting for you as you tried to bring yourself back to earth. You took your own from the table, waiting for him to make the next move.

He outstretched his arm, still holding the bottle tightly in his hand as he loosely wrapped the appendage around you. Carefully, he guided you to the hallway. Without any further words shared, he led the way to his bedroom with intent to finish what he started. As soon as you stepped inside, you were surrounded by him. His cologne lingered in the air, and his clothes littered the floor. His bed was messy, but in the most inviting way possible. Patch cords and guitar picks littered the surface of his dresser, and an acoustic guitar took post in the corner of the room.

Although the stipulations of your entanglement did not extend beyond a single night, curiousity got the best of you. With your heart singing a song curated specifically for him, it was hard not to want to know more about him. Seeing his life so intimately made you crave more substance from him, even if it was ridiculous for you to think.

“What’s on your mind now?” He asked, placing the liquor down on his bedside table.

“Nothing bad,” you assured him, still trying to soak in all the room had to offer. “Guess I’m just curious about you now, is all.”

“All you have to do is ask.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “Later, though, because talking isn’t my top priority right now.” You watched him as he closed in on you, your stomach twisting with excitement at his words. Before he could place his lips on yours again, you swallowed back the last of your drink and placed the empty cup on the top of his dresser, freeing your hands so you only had to focus on him.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you as your hand landed on his bicep. Now, with the opportune position, he had the luxury to touch you as he pleased with nothing standing in his way. One of his hands fell to your hip, his grip firm as he pulled your body into his own. He leaned down, placing his other hand on the back of your neck as he guided your head towards his. He started slow, fearful he might have come on too strong, but you weren’t willing to take your time with him.

It had been a long time since you had been excited by the prospect of sex, and despite knowing you should not be feeling such a way about anyone, let alone Jake in particular, he had elicited that response from you easier than anyone who came before. Even though his kindness was the most abundant of all his traits, you caught a few glimpses of what lie beneath, and if you were being completely honest, that was what held your attention.

The way his arm felt resting against yours at the liquor cabinet, the sly smile after his ambiguous questions, his heavy stare when he thought you weren’t looking, and the sparkle in his eye when you laughed. That was what drew you in, and everything else was just a cherry on top.

When you first sat with Jake, you almost felt guilty that you were so willing to tell him about your troubles, especially after shutting Josh out. Now, with his lips on yours and his hands exploring your body, it made sense that you felt such a way. Jake was offering much more than Josh could, and he could help in ways that Josh could not begin to imagine. He gave you an easy pass to forgetting, a quick solution to feeling good, and a simple way to move on, even if it were only for a short time. Jake was the perfect fit for what you needed, and you were happy that he was so eager to help.

Time was the only true healer, but Jake was a catalyst to speed the process up, and a very pleasurable one at that.

As the kiss continued, the two of you grew much more comfortable with each other. Your body had relaxed and your hands were more courageous as they travelled over the parts of him you were desperate to know. Your entire body was ablaze with excitement, and your mind was completely free of all the previous fears and feelings you were plagued with. His hand on your hip had drifted to your ass, pulling your hips forward into his as he became familiar with the taste of you on his lips.

If you had any fear about his willingness to sleep with you, it was destroyed within seconds of stepping into his bedroom. You could feel his own excitement, through his actions and other, more obvious signs. As he continued to kiss you, you could feel his erection against your leg, straining against the zipper of his jeans. As much as he wanted to take your mind off of things, you were just as happy to relieve him of the problem you had so easily caused.

When he parted from the kiss, his lips were pink and swollen, glistening with spit under the low light flowing in through his window. His hair was messy from your fingers running through it, and his eyes were darker than they were in the kitchen.

If you thought he was beautiful before, it had nothing on how he looked now.

His hands drifted under the hem of your shirt as he looked over your face, ensuring you were comfortable with continuing. When he was met with pleading eyes and a hopeful expression, his lips quirked up into a smile as he lifted your shirt over your head. As he tossed it to the floor, his gaze traveled downward, allowing himself to admire the parts of you that were usually kept hidden. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if the sight knocked the air from him completely and he was trying to recover from the shock.

“So fucking beautiful, angel.” He hummed, his hands finding you again as he spoke. The feeling of his calloused fingertips against the smooth skin was exhilarating, and even more enticing than anything he’d done before. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, bringing his lips back to your skin as if he was already missing the feeling of kissing you.

He focused on your neck for a moment, curiously exploring as he tried to find the sweet spots. When his tongue settled below your ear, a whine fell from your lips, so quiet he nearly missed it. The sound reached his ears, sending his skin tingling as it wrapped around his spine and made home there. He kept his attention in the same spot, desperate to hear more. Your hand raised to his arm, holding yourself steady as your stomach swirled with emotion. His mouth continued lower, and courage flooded him as his hands continued to familiarize themselves with you.

He unhooked your bra, brushing the straps from your shoulders as his mouth landed on your collarbone. You felt his teeth graze the skin, the action gentle but purposeful as your bra fell to the ground with your shirt. Now, without anything standing between the two of you, his hand landed on your breast. His thumb drifted over your nipple, moving in a slow circular motion as he felt it harden under his touch. The small sensation only furthered the ache between your legs, and you could feel the wetness begin to soak through the fabric of your underwear.

As he continued his work, you felt your thighs squeeze together in a shameless attempt to ease the discomfort. You didn’t want to rush him, because everything he was doing was phenomenal, but it was growing increasingly difficult to bite your tongue when you so badly needed more from him.

Eventually, his head dropped low enough for his tongue to graze your already sensitive nipple. The warmth of his mouth paired with the precision of his tongue was deadly. You felt a shaky breath rattle your chest as you tried to keep yourself calm, but it was growing increasingly difficult to do so. You needed him more than you needed anything in your entire life; your body craved him in a way you never knew to be possible, and he had promoted more pleasures than anyone before without even needing to take all of your clothes off.

Something about Jake was otherworldly, and his promises to help you forget were not empty. He was doing exactly as he intended, better than you ever thought he could.

He seemed to be enjoying the moment just as much as you were, completely content with pleasing you and never worrying about his own needs. You had never, in your entire life, met someone who was concerned with your needs first.

He pulled his mouth away from you, his eyes fluttering up to your face as he took a few seconds to sort out his thoughts. His eyes were blackened, his pupils completely consuming his irises as he thought about all of the possibilities the night could have.

“Let’s get you out of these,” he muttered, hooking his fingers through the back belt loop on your jeans.

He pulled the fabric away from your skin, letting it snap back to form as he pulled his hand away. The thud of the material against your skin sent another rush of arousal through you, and you found yourself complying to the request without a second thought. He brought one hand to the button, undoing it with ease as he dropped to his knees once again. He pulled down the zipper, tugging on the fabric so they fell down past your hips. As soon as the denim was out of his way, he brought his lips to your stomach, focusing his attention there for a moment before going any further.

You were aching for relief as his tongue drifted over the exposed skin, and you were nearly brought to your knees as he took the time to leave a trail of pink marks where his lips landed. It would be a reminder of the night for days to come, darkening further with time, and you were thrilled at the idea of having a physical memory of his touch when not in his company. He pulled your jeans further down your legs, his lips now ghosting over your hips as he tapped your leg. You lifted one foot from the ground, allowing him to free you from the jeans entirely. You repeated the process with the other leg, and eventually, the jeans were strewn across the floor and gone from your memory completely.

“Jake, I need you.” You huffed, looking down at him, watching carefully where his lips met your skin. He did not respond right away, seemingly wanting to finish what he started before moving on to something new.

Then, his lips pulled away from you, but did not stray too far from their original position. You watched the muscles in his jaw tense as he comprehended the raw emotion behind your words.

“You need me?” He repeated, his voice husky and his eyes heavy as he bargained with the fact.

“Please,” you whispered, breathless as you tried to recover from the constant stimulation he was providing. “So bad, baby.” He drew in a long breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he heard the pet name fall from your lips.

“How could I say no to you when you sound so pretty?” He asked, the question without need of an answer. With that, he used his arm to push you towards the foot of the bed, only stopping when the backs of your knees collided with the mattress.

Then, he rose to his feet, finding himself at eye level with you once again. “What do you want me to do, angel?”

“Anything; just touch me, please.” Your voice was weak, his effect still strong over you even though he wasn’t touching you.

“Anything I want?” He asked, stepping closer and bringing his hand to your side again. He let his fingers trail down until they met the hug of the elastic band of your underwear on your hip. “Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” You gave a single nod, showcasing your certainty on the matter. He chuckled at your eager nature, looking you over once while he thought of what to do next.

“Lay down for me, sweetheart.” He said, nodding his head towards the bed behind you. “Don’t be shy, get comfortable.” He continued, watching as you turned towards the mattress, unsure if it was possible to climb in and be uncomfortable. The blankets looked soft, and warm, even if they were strewn messily across the surface. The pillows looked like clouds, and there definitely wasn’t a lack of them. More than that, it smelled like him, even from afar. Although you’d only known him for a short time, it had already become a comforting scent for you.

You did as he asked, climbing into the bed and rearranging a few of the pillows. Once you were satisfied, you laid on your back, looking up for him as you awaited further instructions. He gave you a small smile, unable to refute how much he liked the sight of you in his bed, even if it was under strange circumstances.

It was never like Jake to dislike the sight of any girl in his bed, but you seemed to tug on his heart just a little more than others that came before.

“This is a sight I could get used to.” He hummed, adjusting himself in his jeans as he let his eyes trail every bit of exposed skin you had to offer.

“Thought this was a one time thing, Jacob?” He chuckled at your question, unbuttoning the few buttons holding his shirt together. As he slid the fabric from his shoulders, he responded to your inquiries.

“I said if that’s what you want,” he reminded you, dropping the shirt to the floor. Your eyes drifted to his body, drinking in every inch of him. The way the columns of his neck blended perfectly into his collarbones. You studied the structure of his shoulders, focusing intently on his biceps as your eyes trailed down his arms. Then, your gaze moved to his chest, the tan skin decorated with necklaces hanging from his neck. Your admiration ended when your eyes met the buckle of his belt, and you realized he was watching you watch him. “For some reason, I don’t think you’ll be able to stay away.” He sent a wink in your direction to follow his words.

His ego was taking up every spare inch of space in the room, and he was completely different than he was when you were sitting with him in the kitchen. The sweetness still lingered underneath the surface, but his desire had turned him wicked and he was doing everything he could to keep you on his hook. You couldn’t find a single complaint about it, because you loved this version of him even more than the kind hearted man who opened his home and his liquor cabinet to you.

“I think I want another drink,” he started, looking at the bottle decorating his nightstand. His gaze flickered back to you, wanting to ensure you were still watching him. “How about you?” You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach, wishing that he would just go back to touching you. The banter was fun, and you loved talking to him, but you had needs far more pressing than conversing with him. “Don’t look so disappointed, Angel.” He hummed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. “I promised to make you feel good, and I’m going to…” he trailed off, popping the cork from the bottle as he kneeled on the bed beside you. “But I have to have my fun, too.”

With that, he brought the spout of the bottle to your navel, carefully letting the trickle of cool liquid fall to your skin. A few droplets trickled down the side of you, landing on the mattress below, but he didn’t care. With great gentleness, he reached out and placed the bottle back on the stand. Without breaking your stare, he settled himself between your legs, his head hovering over your belly as he leaned down a little closer.

With his eyes still settled on your face, he let his tongue glide over your stomach just above your panty line. The skin was already dampened from the spill of liquid from the bottle, cold from the air hitting the wet surface. His tongue warmed the skin, but did much more than just that. The gentleness of his touch cause a plethora of emotions to course through you all at once, and you couldn’t seem to keep your mind straight. The disarray only seemed to worsen as he trailed upwards, drinking up the whiskey like he was a professional on the matter.

When the alcohol was consumed, he did not stop his tyrant. Instead, he continued all the way up until his tongue met your breast once again, circling around your nipple before suctioning his lips to you completely. The warmth and wetness of his mouth was otherworldly, and the new position allowed for his hips to meet yours while he continued teasing you. You shifted down on the mattress, not enough to break his focus, but just enough for your aching core to meet with his cock, strained against his jeans. The contact was minuscule, but enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath from him.

He used his free hand to hold your hips in place, grinding himself down on you ever so slight to give you a bit of relief. The friction was good, even if it wasn’t enough. Paired with the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive nipple, it was enough to pry a moan from your lips.

“Jake, please touch me. Need it so bad.” You whined, feeling your hips raise from the mattress despite his hand holding you down. He pulled his mouth away from you, a small popping sound ringing through the air as he lost the suction of his cheeks.

“You want me to touch you, beautiful?” He asked, shimmying to the side so he could do as you asked. He brought one hand between your legs, resting beside you on his knees as he held himself up with his other arm. His fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your aching core, noticing the wetness before he even pushed the fabric to the side. “Fuck,” he hissed, looking down at his hand. “All of this for me, angel?”

“Just for you, baby.” You whimpered, feeling his finger drift over your covered clit. Although you wished that the barrier did not exist, you would settle for what you could get.

“And what’s got you so worked up? It can’t be me, I’m just getting started.” He teased, pushing the fabric to the side. Before he continued, he waited for you to respond.

“It’s you, Jake.” You assured him, almost sheepish of the fact. He was right, he was just getting started, and you were far too worked up for just a few minutes of foreplay. You couldn’t help it, though; between his sinful touches and your own lack of sexual pleasure over the previous few years, you were ready to come undone before he even touched you.

“Don’t tell me he was that bad of a guy.” Jake let out a murmur of discontent at the thought. “Couldn’t think about anything other than himself, even with a girl as pretty as you in his bed?” Your cheeks burned red at his words, embarrassed at the thought of him being correct. “You know I won’t do that to you, angel.” He promised, finally letting his fingers get a feel for the wetness pooling between your legs. “From here on out, it’s all about you. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding in agreement with his idea. To you, it sounded more than good. It sounded fantastic.

With that, he gathered your arousal on his fingers, slowly trailing it up to your clit. He traced slow circles into the already sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your face so he did not miss a single second of your reaction. Your gaze flickered to his face, taking in all of the details while he did the same for you. His brow was furrowed with concentration, and his lips were still slightly swollen from earlier. The muscles in his jaw were tense, and his eyes told you just how happy he was to be pleasing you.

“You know, I was hoping to get you in my bed, even before you sat in that chair.” He confessed, his voice quiet as a sheepish smile crossed his face.

“Y-yeah?” You asked, the word breathy as you felt the pull of pleasure begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You were intrigued by his statement, so much so that it took your mind away from the burning desire for a moment.

“Yeah,” he affirmed, smirking at your obvious curiosity. “Been thinking about it since the first time I saw you at Josh’s house.” He continued, carefully letting himself move closer. He propped himself up on his forearm, moving his body down towards yours. “You walked out, all dolled up in a pretty little dress. Blue, if I remember right. I wasn’t really looking at the dress.”

He was right, and you could remember the scene just as well as him. It was the only blue dress you owned, and you were on your way to lunch with a potential client, which was why you were so eager to get out the door. He was carrying his guitar, in a cutoff t-shirt and jeans that hugged his legs just right. You were both younger, a little more naive and much more childish. You could remember being stunned by his long brown hair, tousled by the wind, and the sunglasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose. He was beautiful then, just the same as he was now, but you were too afraid to introduce yourself. You managed a small greeting as you passed by him, and spent the whole drive to the restaurant with the picture of him stuck in your head.

“Been waiting that long, Jacob?” You asked, finding a bit of strength to tease him back.

“I wouldn’t say waiting,” he chuckled. “But definitely thinking about it. Prettiest girl to ever walk out of his house, and the prettiest girl to ever step foot in mine.” He continued with the flattery, sliding his middle and index finger to your entrance. Before he continued, he slipped his fingers inside of you. As he began to pump his fingers, he let his thumb drift over your clit. The combination of the two sensations was overwhelming in the best possible way. “If I had it my way, I would have fucked you right there on his porch.” The vulgarity of his words may have been off putting in any other context, but as he said it, your walls fluttered around his fingers and another intense wave of arousal washed over you. “And you would have let me, wouldn’t you?”

You were nearly delirious from the pleasure steadily growing in the pit of your stomach. Your skin was ablaze, the sensation growing stronger with every word he spoke and every touch he gave you. You were willing to tell him anything and everything he wanted to hear as long as it meant he wouldn’t stop.

“God, yes. I would have.” You whined, moving your hips down on his hand as his fingers curled upwards, hitting the sweet spot inside of you.

You weren’t lying, either; had you known at that time he could make you feel so good, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. At the sound of your tone filled with need for him, he made it a point to curl his fingers upwards again as he pumped them into you. As his fingertips brushed over the sensitive spot he’d found with ease, a moan filled the air, loud and desperate for him to keep going. “Oh, fuck me.” You groaned, gripping at the sheets below you.

“I intend to, sweetheart.” He replied. Although he knew you did not direct the message to him, he felt the need to interject his own thoughts anyway. As the words left his mouth, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. He couldn’t help himself; he was compelled to kiss you, feeling that he might not be able to survive without the taste of you on his tongue.

His fingers continued to move with intent, eager to pry an orgasm from you. The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, your skin tingling with pleasure as another moan tore through your chest. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, feeling lucky to be the one experiencing such intimacy with you, even if it was under strange circumstances.

He broke from the kiss as he felt your walls clench around him again, knowing that you were closer to a climax than you would ever admit. He increased the pressure of his thumb, watching you carefully so he did not miss the moment he’d been patiently waiting for.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” He crooned, drunk of the pleasure twisted amongst your features. The praise washed over you like summer rain, settling deep in your stomach and furthering the intensity of the feeling. Your brow was furrowed, your eyes squeezed shut and your lips parted ever so slightly, allowing the most beautiful sounds to cross them. “You’re so fucking hot.” He muttered, propping himself up a bit further for a better view. As much as he wanted to focus on your face, he felt his eyes trail down to his hand, unable to resist the only other sight that could compare to your pretty face.

He sucked his bottom teeth between his lips, biting down on it as he watched his fingers disappear into your cunt.

Your eyes cracked open, desperate to catch a glimpse of him before you descended into the organ that was quickly approaching. When you caught sight of his face, you noticed his eyes were not looking at you like they had been moments before. When you followed his gaze, seeing what he was so fixated on, you felt a whole different type of emotion wash over you. He did not notice your stare, too caught up in the sight to even care about anything else. You were enthralled in him, watching him admire you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

You bit down on your lip, feeling the warmth in your stomach begin to spread to the rest of your body. You were so close, so ready to give in to the temptation of the feeling, but you weren’t ready for the moment to come to an end.

Within a second, that train of thought was completely disregarded, unimportant and needless.

A low groan, resembling more like a growl sounded through the room, coming from deep in his chest. His eyes turned dark, almost animalistic as he was taken by his desire for you. It was a simple thing, so unimportant in comparison to everything else he was doing to you, but it was everything to you. To know you could drive such a beautiful man to such desperate feelings made you weak, and knowing he was just as taken by you as you were with him sent you over the edge.

The orgasm that took hold was stronger than any you had ever had before. Your entire body was immersed in euphoria, from the very tips of your toes to the muscles in your face. Not one part of you was spared from his wicked power, and as your legs trembled, you came to terms with the fact he was right; heartbroken or not, you were hooked on him. Walking away would be ridiculous, and coming back for more was a given. You could not comprehend the idea of never feeling such a way again, and that made it all the harder to equate your solution for heartbreak to a single night.

“That’s it, angel. Doing so good for me.” His words seemed far away, but the sentiment behind them stuck with you indefinitely. He continued pumping his fingers into you, coaxing you through the climax with his hand and his words. You had never felt more important, more cared about than you did with him, like your enjoyment was the only thing in the world that mattered.

He pulled his fingers out of you, his gaze flickering to your face as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched as he slipped his middle finger past his lips, glistening with your release as it landed on his tongue and his mouth closed around it. As the taste filled his senses, his eyes fluttered closed and a low groan rattled his chest. Your face flushed, your stomach pulling with another bout of pleasure as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. He pulled his finger from his mouth, a slight popping sound filling your ears as the digit slid off his lips. Your eyes squeezed shut, the sight nearly pornographic, and hotter than anything you had ever witnessed before.

“Taste so fucking sweet, baby. Just like I thought you would.” His words were soft, gentle as they filled the air around you. You couldn’t look at him, fearful that if you caught his eye, you would descend into another orgasm without him even touching you at all.

Your knuckles ached as you released your iron grip on the sheets, your body relaxing against the mattress as you came down from the high. Your lungs ached for a full breath of air, and your skin was still tingling with the ghost of pleasure. You looked down at Jake, expecting him to be watching you, waiting for your next move, but he was doing none of those things. He was tossing his belt to the floor, sliding out of his jeans and boxers at once and tossing them in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You noticed his frantic nature, taking a second to discard your underwear and toss them to the floor as well. He didn’t say a word, making a move to shift downwards on the mattress. He settled between your legs, his hands on your hips as he pulled you down towards his face.

He guided your legs over his shoulders, settling his palms on the tops of your thighs as his lips dusted light kisses over the inside of them. As you both grew more comfortable with the new position, you felt his confidence grow, too. His teeth grazed over the sensitive skin, his tongue following the path to sooth any irritation that might occur. Goosebumps littered your entire body, and every nerve was aflame with desire for the boy who made home between your legs. You watched him, a wondrous sparkle in your eye as you inspected his every move.

Was it normal for someone to be this attentive, to be so concerned with making you feel good? Had you been missing out on such a fantastic experience, wasting your time with someone who was only concerned with himself? Or was Jake just so phenomenal that he made everything a million times more fun?

You did not know, and you did not care; the only important thing to you was him, and he was doing well in making you forget about all of your other worldly troubles. The only thoughts in your mind were pertaining to him and his ability to please you. He was like poison, infiltrating every thought and every emotion, completely taking over without you even thinking twice about it.

His eyes flickered upwards, meeting yours in a silent inquiry. The trail of love bites on your thigh was darkening by the second, and his gaze was burning into you.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He ordered, but it was hard to comply to his wishes when it felt like his fingers were searing into your skin.

“I-I just… sex has never been like this before.” You breathed, wondering how he knew something was wrong despite you not saying a word. He was effortlessly in tune with you, feeling every emotion coursing through you as if it were his own. “It’s never been so good, and I’ve never been so… taken care of.” You squeaked out the last few words, embarrassed to admit it to him.

“Oh, don’t tell me that, angel.” He muttered, almost pained at the thought. “If I had known he wasn’t taking care of you, I would have done it myself, a long time ago.” The sincerity in his tone made your head spin, and you were almost regretful that you had been so caught up on a man who wasn’t worth your time, when you could have been spending your time indulging in someone like Jake. “You mean to tell me he wasn’t doing this?” He asked, obviously referring to the act he was about to commit. Your cheeks burned red as you shook your head, silently answering him. “What a fucking idiot.” He muttered, clearly to himself.

Instead of continuing the conversation, he pulled your hips down a little further, letting his actions speak louder than his words. He lowered his head, and you held your breath as his mouth connected with your core. His tongue slowly ran through your folds, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. He let his focus remain there for a moment, circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as your hands snaked down your body, tangling themselves in the long locks of his hair. Your felt his tongue dip down to your entrance again, flattening against you as he repeated the same process from earlier, savouring every drop of arousal you had to offer him.

As his tongue reached your clit again, he let out a long hum of satisfaction, like the moment had curbed every craving he had for you in an instant. He pulled away from you for a moment, looking up as he listened closely to your shallow breathing. “I could stay between your legs for the rest of my life, and I’d be fucking happy to do it.” He said, his tone gruff as some residual anger remained in his mind. “Now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t think you’ll be able to get rid of me.”

A whimper fell from your lips, completely uncontrollable as you tried to sear the memory of him between your legs into your brain for eternity. He returned his mouth to you, using the sound as encouragement while he continued on with his work.

Jake was a force you were not familiar with, yet you feared you may never fully grasp his power. You met him at the perfect time, and he offered his services when you needed them most. It was supposed to be a quick fix, a simple solution to stop the pain from tearing you in two, but it quickly grew into something much more than that. Now that you had a chance to experience pleasure at his hands, you weren’t ready to give it up.

Calling Jake a rebound would be ridiculous, because he was the furthest thing from it; in just an hour, he gave more to you than your ex did in years.

Like you said earlier, you were mourning the situation more than you were mourning the person or the relationship itself. The picture of betrayal had been seared in your mind, the self-doubt and self-hatred was abundant, and maybe there was a hint of sadness over the loss of routine, but most of your ailments were not caused by the man himself. With Jake’s help, that became incredibly apparent, and the rest of the sadness and anger seemed to fade away the longer his hands were on you.

“A-ah, fuck.” You hissed, your fingers tightening in his hair as an intense wave of pleasure took hold. “Feels so good, Jake.” Instead of pulling away to respond, he hummed against you, the vibration of the sound furthering the sensation he was already giving you. He wanted to hear how good you were feeling, how good he was making you feel. His ego hadn’t gone away, and your compliments only fed it further. You would be uncomfortable with his cockiness if it were not warranted, but from everything he’d done so far, you understood that he was the only man you had been with who had a right to be so self-assured.

His hands inched up your legs, his grip loosening as he moved his fingers. The light tickle sent a shiver down your spine, and your head was spinning as his grasp slowly settled on your hips. His tongue continued to circle around your clit as he pulled you a little further down on his face. A moan filled the air, much more desperate than the last and the vulgarity immediately categorizing it as pornography. You weren’t sure if such a sound ever left your lips before, but you did not have time to focus on the fact before another one followed up the last.

Your cheeks were burning to the touch, your skin blotchy with redness and glistening with sweat. Your hands were anchored in the roots of his hair, and his tongue was driving you so crazy that you couldn’t help the automatic roll of your hips against his tongue. You were bordering the edge once again, and he seemed to have no intent to slow. One of his hands remained on your hip as the other began to explore, dusting over your stomach with great gentleness. It was a staggering difference between the hand on your hip, which was holding you tightly, as if he was scared he would lose you if he let go.

You were lost in the movements of his tongue, no other thoughts existing within your mind as he continued with his precise actions. The warmth of his mouth was heavenly, the wetness of his tongue making every move all the more remarkable. His hand raised to your chest, finally finding what he had been blindly searching for as his palm cupped your breast. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back onto the pillow as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Then, his fingers found your nipple, brushing over it and sending jolts of pleasure through you. The sensation combined with the feeling of his tongue was indescribable, addicting, and intoxicating. You felt drunk off of him alone, and you never wanted to sober up.

Just when you thought you were accustom to the multiple sensations all at once, he moved his hand, taking your nipple between his thumb and his forefinger and giving one hard pinch. You let out a gasp, your hips bucking forward into his mouth even further. You could see the shake of his shoulders, showcasing his silent laughter at your reaction.

Even if you wanted to be upset at him, you had no idea how to be. Being angry with Jake seemed like an oxymoron, two things that could not coexist together. If anything, all you wanted to do was praise him for all he had done to help you.

He retracted his hand from your chest, snaking it back down your body. He brought it underneath your leg, bringing his middle and ring finger to your entrance. He pushed them inside of you, with the same curl to his fingers as earlier. The added stimulation was heavenly, and a sure apology for his earlier action. He barely had to pump his fingers at all before your back was arching off the mattress, desperate and shameless for more.

“Jake, baby.” You warned, the words coming out hastily and jumbled together. “M’gonna cum.” You forced the rest of the sentence out, the fire in your belly blazing and threatening to take hold.

He hummed against you again, encouraging you to give in and let go. With one last curl of his fingers paired with the flick of his tongue, your second orgasm took over. Your legs trembled with the intensity of the feeling, your hands holding his hair as if you were afraid of floating away if you let go. The air was filled with obscenities, curses and praise for his work as you descended into the pleasure. If his mouth wasn’t occupied, you knew the praises and encouragement would be the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. He coaxed you through the moment, and your heart rate began to slow and your muscles started to relax from the tension.

Difference was, this time he didn’t slow.

His tongue continued to trace your clit with more intent than before, as if he wanted to see how far he could take it before you gave in. At first, the feeling was uncomfortable, but the idea of stopping was more troublesome than the sting of overstimulation. Instinctively, your body tried to pull away from him, but he used his hand on your hip to hold you in place. Your hands remained in his hair, but did not try and pull his head away from you. You wanted him, and the orgasm he had just given you was inexplicably addictive. You wanted to feel that way again so bad that you could spare the few moments of discomfort in exchange for something so fantastic.

The noises falling from your lips had upped in intensity, and definitely felt more dramatic. You were loud enough that you feared the neighbours might hear you had they stepped outside. He was living in the moment, driven near insane from the desperation in your voice. You looked down, and despite your blurred vision, did the best you could to admire him while you had him like such. His hair was a mess, still knotted around your fingers. The muscles in his back were tight, flexing with every move of his arms. His knuckles were locked in place around your hip, decorating it so nicely that you dreaded the moment he had to let go.

Although beautiful, those were not the things that held your attention. Instead, you were drawn in by the sight of his hips grinding into the mattress below. Pleasing you had worked him up so badly that he himself was aching for relief, unable to control how badly he needed to be touched. The thought was maddening, and the sight drove you over the edge.

Before the overstimulation even began to wear off, your body was forced into another climax that put the previous ones to shame. Your throat was raw from crying his name, your entire body aching from the violence of the feeling. For a moment, you thought you might die at the hands of his sin, but not even that thought could force you away from him. Your lungs burned and your head swam with thoughts of nothing and everything, all at once.

You had never felt such a way in your entire existence, and even when your body began to recover from the effects of his tongue, your mind had fallen far behind. You were barely holding on to reality as he finally withdrew his fingers from you, and your head was completely elsewhere when his head moved away, too.

“Could listen to you scream my name like that every fucking night.” He growled, pressing his wet lips to your thighs so he did not have to give up contact with you entirely. “God you’re a fucking masterpiece. Can’t believe it took so long for me to have you like this.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, instead wiping away your release from his chin and moving upwards so he could kiss you. As his hips landed on yours, you felt his cock press against your soaking core, the warmth of bare skin against skin nearly driving you into another orgasm. You were floored at his ability to make you feel good, and amazed that nobody else could make you feel such things. As his tongue glided across yours, you could taste yourself on him, only making the moment even more remarkable. It made him even more addicting, and you were certain you could get used to having him in such a way.

“Just a second, sweetheart.” He slurred, drunk off of you. He pulled away from you, sliding out from between your legs and climbing out of bed. You watched him, breathless and stunned at the picture of him completely naked in front of you. It was the first moment thus far that you had the chance to admire him fully, and you never wanted to stop.

He was painfully hard, the tip of his dick red with irritation from the rough threads of the sheets and glistening with wetness from where he was resting against you. The sight sent you mad, your mouth watering and your need for him growing tenfold. He turned to his bedside table, rummaging around in the drawer in search of a condom. When his fingers landed on the box, stuffed way in the back and hidden under a pile of junk. He looked over at you, smiling shyly as he pulled one from the box.

“Don’t really need these all that often.” He chuckled, an inadvertent way of telling you he was being truthful when he said you were the only one he offered his services to.

“Wait,” you uttered, watching as he raised the package to his mouth to tear it with his teeth. He froze in place, worried that you might have changed your mind.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, ready to discard the foil square in his hand and dress himself if you were uncomfortable. “Do you want to stop, or slow down?”

“No!” You shook your head, feeling bad that the thought even crossed his mind. Instead of letting his anxiety get the best of him, you sat up from your laying position. Carefully, ensuring you had your balance, you shifted so you were resting on your knees, facing him. You looked up, giving a small smile as you beckoned him closer. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he stepped towards you anyway.

Only when you reached out for him did he understand your intentions. He sucked in a sharp breath, watching as you grabbed his hand and guided him closer to the edge of the bed.

“Tonight is supposed to be about you, angel.” He muttered, a weak protest against your actions.

“I want to, Jake.” You assured him, unable to refute your desire to please him, too. “Please?” You looked up at him, doe-eyed with faux innocence written over your features.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, unable to resist the temptation. “I had no idea you were such a whore.” Even if his words were venomous, his tone did not match. He had such a way with words that even his insults sounded like praise. “Go ahead then, if you want it so fuckin’ bad.”

You debated thanking him for his kindness, but you opted to do it with your actions, instead. You leaned toward, bringing your mouth to him. You parted your lips slightly, letting your tongue glide over the head of his cock. The saltiness of the pre-cum staining his skin lingered on your lips as you took him in your mouth. You bobbed your head down slowly, allowing spit to accumulate on your tongue as you let it glide over the underside of his cock.

As you moved your head down on him, your eyes fluttered closed in concentration. His size was something you weren’t used to, but you had enough confidence to follow through with your efforts. When you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, your eyes watered as you fought back a gag. Desperate to impress, you relaxed your throat as you took him all the way. You felt him twitch in your mouth, letting you know that he was enjoying the moment just as much as you hoped. A string of curses fell from his lips, followed by a long groan. The sound only worsened the persistent ache between your legs, but you carried on, knowing that he would take care of that once you took care of him.

He raised his hand to your hair, gathering it in his hand and holding it away from your face. His eyes were permanently fixated on you, terrified of missing even a second of the view in front of him. You sat there for a moment, allowing yourself to grow comfortable with the feeling before forcing yourself to swallow, despite the momentary discomfort. As your throat constricted around him, he took in a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the sensation. Another groan tried to force it’s way from his chest, but he tried to hold it back, resulting in the sound coming out more similar to a whine.

Even if it was unintentional, it drove you fucking crazy.

You pulled back in one swift motion, inhaling a breath of air as his cock fell from your lips. Trails of spit covered your chin, but it did not phase you. Before he could recover from the loss, your mouth was on him again.

“Ah, fuck, sweetheart.” He growled, his grip in your hair tightening. “Full of fucking surprises tonight.” Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare as you bobbed your head down on him. You longed to sear the picture in your mind forever. His hair was disheveled, his jaw-hard set and his eyes crazed as he studied your every move. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you were certain of that. You felt lucky to be able to please him in any way, and grateful to have caught his eye all those years ago.

As you drew your head upward, you let his cock leave your mouth completely, deciding to give him a show. You circled your tongue around his tip, pursing your lips as you placed them on the side of his dick. You pushed your tongue flat against him, suctioning your cheeks just a bit to add some pressure. As you moved your mouth down his cock, you made sure to keep eye contact with him the whole time. When you reached the base, you slowly ran your tongue over him as you brought your head back to the tip. Without breaking the momentum, you took him back in your mouth and bobbed your head back down until his tip hit the back of your throat again.

You started a steady pace, listening intently to every sound that passed his lips. It wear encouraging, and it was hot. If you had to say, it was the most attractive thing you had ever heard. As you felt him slide down your throat again, you let out a moan. The vibration amplified the already intense feeling, causing his head to fall back on his shoulders as he hissed out a long string of curses. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, desperate for a release but unwilling to give in to it just yet.

In truth, you would not have minded. He had been beyond generous already, and to do him a kindness was the only way you thought fitting to repay him. Even if you would miss out on fucking him, you were happy to be used by him in any way.

As you continued at the same pace, you could feel him begin to lose himself to the pleasure. As your head came down on him, his hips involuntarily moved too meet with you. The constant pressure in the back of your throat was making it difficult to keep calm, but you persevered until he pulled away first. A particularly sharp thrust of his hips sent you over the edge, and the gag you tried so hard to stop finally forced its way out. Your throat constricted around him again and your eyes welled with tears. Hastily, he pulled away from you, his chest heaving as his concerned eyes looked over your face.

“M’sorry, angel. You okay?” He asked, crouching down so he was eye level with you.

“Yeah, I’m good, it’s okay.” You promised, nodding you head. He raised his hand to your cheek, swiping away tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“We can take a break if you need it,” he assured you, holding your gaze. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m going too fast or if it’s too much.”

“I’m okay, I promise.” You gave him a soft smile, well recovered from the moment of slight tension. He watched you for a moment longer, wanting to be certain. When he realized you weren’t going to change your mind, he leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss. The softness of the action was all you needed to feel better again. “Can you fuck me? Please?” You muttered the words against his lips, unable to wait until he was finished to ask the question.

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” He asked, intrigued by your excitement.

“Yes, please.” You breathed, needing it like you needed air. The desire you had for him was nearly debilitating, and since he’d stopped touching you, there was no relief for the grating need.

“Turn around for me, Angel.” He said, rising to his feet. He was in no position to deny you anything, because he wanted it just as bad.

You did as he asked, noticing he was reaching for the foil wrapper on the nightstand again. You couldn’t comprehend the grief that washed over you as you saw it, and the words rushed out faster than you could stop them.

“I’m on the pill,” you said, hearing him freeze in place. “I’m clean, too.” You were telling the truth, because before him, unprotected sex wasn’t even a thought in your mind. Whatever he had done to you that night seemed to permanently alter your mind, and the simple thought of not having him completely was sickening.

“Me too.” He hummed, almost relieved that you told him. He tossed the condom back on the table, the dull clatter of the impact prompted a smile on your face.

You backed up closer to him, your knees resting near the edge of the mattress and your feet dangling off the edge. He stepped towards you, his hands reaching for your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His touch drifted over your ass, appreciating you while he had you in such a way.

“You have no fucking idea how good you look like this.” He praised your beauty, his voice deep and laced with desire. One of his hand fell from your hip, and seconds later, you felt his cock rest against your cunt. Slowly, he ran the tip through the wetness that was worsening by the second. “You want it, sweetheart?” The husky tone settled deep in your bones as you dropped to your forearms, bringing your top half lower to the mattress. You pushed your hips back towards him, adding a little more pressure to your clit, which he was resting against.

“So bad, Jake.” You pleaded, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“What was that, Angel?” He asked, sliding himself back down to your entrance. “Couldn’t quite hear you.” There was a smirk on his lips, cute enough to help him get away with the teasing, but irritating enough to bother you.

“Please, baby.” You whined, trying again.

“Please what?” He pressed further, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly. The miniscule change was agonizing, but it still made your head spin. “I want to hear how bad you want me, beautiful.”

“Please fuck me, Jake.” You finished your broken sentence, your tone stronger than it had been all night. “I need to feel you, please.” With that, you pushed your hips back again, testing your limits.

Unlucky for you, at the same time, he thrusted forward with force, causing the impact to be so much more intense.

“A-ah, fuck!” You yelped, the size of him something brand new to you. The way he filled you was enough to bring you to your knees, but the painful sensation of his cock hitting your cervix amplified the pleasure even further.

“There you go, baby.” He crooned, completely disregarding your response as he drew his hips back and slammed back into you with the same energy. “How does that feel?” The slight sneer in his tone was aggravating, but you had to admit that it looked really good on him. The sudden change in attitude made you realize that what had come before that moment was not typical for Jake. He was snarky, arrogant, and he liked to be in charge. You could tell by his fingers bruising your hips and his tone talking down to you.

Although you thoroughly enjoyed the time you already spent with Jake, it almost made you sad when you realized what exactly you missed out on.

As you were stuck on the thought, you felt a sharp sting across your ass. The sensation on your skin combined with the pleasure of him inside of you, making you quiver under the touch. “Answer me when I fucking speak.” He barked, letting his fingers gently caressed the reddening skin where his hand made contact. You weren’t sure if it was purposeful or absentminded, but the sweet touch after the harsh words felt good, reassuring that he was only putting on an act.

Then, you decided if he wanted to push you, you could do the same to him. The worst that could happen was a punishment, and the idea of punishment at Jake’s hands was nothing but thrilling.

“Feels so good, sir.” You exaggerated your tone in hopes of getting under his skin, but the term of endearment seemed to short circuit his brain. His hips stuttered and his hands tightened their grip.

“Such a fucking whore,” he spat, his words quiet as he regained his composure. Even if his words were harsh, you could tell by his voice alone how much he enjoyed your attitude. “I love it.” He muttered the words to himself, but you heard it despite his efforts to keep it to himself. He felt your walls flutter around him, drawing him in further and deeper, encouraging his antics even further.

One of his hands raised to your hair, gathering it in his fist and knotting it around his hand. He tightened his hold, pulling your head back ever so slightly as his hips continued at the same, bruising pace. You arched your back even further, your chest nearly brushing against the mattress now as your ass raised to meet his hips.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed, holding your hips as he upped the strength in which he was thrusting into you. “Take it so fucking good.”

The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, threatening to snap with every move. You were crying his name, praising him for his hard work as he pushed you closer to a climax. You were sure his bedroom would never recover from the pornographic display the two of you found yourselves in, and the thought served as a comfort. You wanted him to think about you every time his bedroom door closed, remembering how you looked in his bed as he fucked you from behind. You wanted him to picture the way your ass met his hips every time he closed his eyes, and you never wanted him to forget the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Although he intended to solve your problems, you wanted to create a new, constant one for him; one that plagued him every night and haunting him during the day. You wanted Jake to succumb to the need of you, and you wanted your number to be a constant call in his phone, begging you to come over so he could curb the urge for a little while. You wanted to infiltrate every thought that crossed his mind, because you could not stand the idea of him giving this to anyone else.

“You want to cum already?” He asked, recognizing the tremble of your legs and the desperation of your high-pitched moans. “So fucking needy you can’t even enjoy it for a while?” He chastised you, but both of you knew there was zero malice behind his behavior. He was living for the way you moved against him, surviving off the sound of your pleasure. He was thrilled to drive you to such a state so easily, and he would give you whatever you wanted, so long as you asked nicely.

“Please, sir. I want it so bad. I need it.” You stressed the importance of the topic, feeling the burn begin to overtake your entire body. The urge was impossible to stave off, and you knew there was no use in trying. After all he’d done to you so far, you were long past self-control.

“Fine, but you better not hold back. I want to hear every one of those filthy fucking noises.” He growled, pulling your head back with a little bit of force. “Put on a good show, sweetheart, or I might not be so nice next time.” He warned, holding your head in place with one hand and your hip with his other. He pulled you back on him, making the impact even more powerful. The painful pleasure pulsed through your entire body, so intense that you could feel it behind your eyes. With every thrust of his hips, you grew closer to the release you so desperately needed.

In exchange for him giving you what you needed, you gave him exactly what he asked for.

“Oh, god, Jake.” You whined, upping the dramatics for the sake of his request. “You feel so good, baby. Please don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling your head spin with the threat of your climax. You could hear his shaky breaths, the sound of your words hitting him harder than he anticipated. His hips remained steady, though, never faltering as he continued on exactly as you asked him to.

“Come on, angel.” He huffed, looking down at the curve of your ass, watching himself as he fucked into you. The permissive statement sent you spiralling, pushing you over the edge with little thought.

“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, feeling your stomach burn with pleasure. Your hands were balled into fists, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. Your arms and legs felt like they would give out from under you as they trembled. Jake seemed to notice the same thing, and the hand holding your hip slipped under you, holding you up so you did not have to worry about anything other than feeling good.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl.” He crooned, never letting up on his pace as he continued to fuck you through the climax. Even as you came down, your body did not relax. Your skin was ablaze and your forehead was glistening with sweat. You were tired, and the feeling of him inside of you became less pleasant and more intense as he continued to thrust into you. Your noises became less angelic and more desperate, as if they served as a warning for him to slow down. Overstimulation was threatening your exhausted mind, driving you closer to insanity by the second as the burn of irritation began to spread.

“Jake,” You wheezed his name out, trying to bargain with him as he increased the speed of his hips. “Jake, please.” You pleaded, now for an entirely different reason.

“What, you wanted it so bad and now you can’t take it?” He growled, his hips still moving at a relentless pace. “You can take it sweetheart, I know you can. Be good for me, baby. Just a little longer.”

“I don’t know if I can.” You cried, your throat raw from the desperation of your moans. Both of you knew he would stop if you really needed it, but he would be damned if he gave up before you truly needed him to.

“You can, beautiful. Being so good for me.” He rushed out, clearly growing close to his own climax. “Don’t you love being a good girl for me?” He asked, easing up on you ever so slightly.

“I do,” you whimpered, feeling his hand in your hair push your head towards the mattress. The strength of his thrusts had lessened, and the overwhelming sensation started to become pleasurable again. “I love it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He whispered, desperation beginning to set in for him, too. He loosened his hold around your hips, knowing you were much steadier, now. He moved his hand between your legs, his middle finger finding your clit with ease. “Just a little while longer, baby. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, his words giving you the strength to keep going. You clenched around him, amplifying the sensation for both of you as his finger continued to trace around your clit.

“So fucking tight.” He praised, saying it mostly to himself. “Give me one more angel. I know you have it in you.” He was right, the orgasm was already building at a rapid pace. You could feel the tingle of euphoria in the tips of your fingers and toes. You were too strung out on him to answer, but he knew that you would give him what he wanted.

Nobody in their right mind would ever deny Jake anything he asked for, anyway.

“Jake, fuck, m’gonna cum.” You rushed out, the urgency something you had never experienced before in your life. He let out a low chuckle at your state despite feeling the same desperation.

“That’s my girl.” He said again, the statement still hitting as hard as it did the first time he said it. With one last thrust of his hips, you came undone, all of the pleasure from the night coming to one final climax.

Your mind was blank, no thoughts or worries left to bother you. You wanted to scream his name, but nothing was coming out. Your chest ached and your lungs were in dire need of air, but you could not even seem to do something as simple as breathing. Jakes hand pushed your head further into the mattress, your cheek pressed against the soft fabric of the sheets as he started to lose his composure, too. His movements were sloppy, his hips stuttering every time he fucked into you. The finger that was once tracing perfect circles on your clit seemed to forget how to do so, and he had his turn to utter profanities that only solidified the moment in your minds forever.

His grip on your hair loosened as he reached his peak, spilling his release inside you as his hips began to slow. He used his arm to pull you back on him one last time, holding you there while he recovered from the intensity of the moment. He let out a long breath, looking down once more where his hips rested against yours. He drew back, slowly thrusting forward a few more times as he fucked his release back into you. A low growl sounded from his chest, the sight alone nearly working him up all over again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked, his loving and catering tone returning as he withdrew from you completely.

“Yeah, m’okay.” You nodded, feeling the pressure in your skull lessen as he loosened his hold on your hair. “Fantastic, actually.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, excited at the idea. “You feel better?”

“Jake, you have no idea.” You breathed, slowly moving from your position. You were sore, tired, but you felt better than you ever had. “I don’t think I’ve ever… no, I’ve never had sex like that.” You confessed, rolling on to your back to let your body rest for a moment.

“I’m glad I could help, beautiful.” He said, laying down beside you. “Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up later.” He said, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, his skin warm and soothing as the sound of his heartbeat thudded in your ears.

“I should probably call a cab, get back to Josh’s place before the bar rush starts.” You sighed, saddened by the thought alone. You wished to stay wrapped up in Jake’s arms for the rest of the night, even if you knew you shouldn’t. You were going through a breakup, and dating was not on the table (or shouldn’t be, at least), but there was something special about Jake, something so different that it made it impossible to want to walk away from him.

“Are you crazy?” He scoffed, his tone light as he looked down at you.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head up as you awaited an answer.

“Like I’d ever make you take a cab.” He rolled his eyes. “But, you’re not going back to Josh’s place, sweetheart.”

“What if I want to?” You shot back.

“Do you?” He asked, seemingly staring into your soul. You bit the inside of your lip, fighting back a smile as you gave a small shake of your head. “Didn’t think so. I’ll just tell him we drank a little too much and you crashed in the spare room.” Your stomach sank at the thought of a spare room, but he could see it in your eyes before you had the chance to address it. “You’re not actually staying in the spare room, gorgeous.”

“Okay, good.” You breathed, chuckling at your own stupidity. “‘Cause I’d much rather stay here, with you.”

“That was never even a question.” He assured you, letting his fingers gently trail over your back. The light tickle was addicting, comforting and soft. It was exactly what you needed after such a high energy evening. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” He said the second part, quieter this time, but you could still sense the truth behind his words.

“No?” You giggled, smiling up at his pretty face.

“Mmm,” he hummed to himself, the sound vibrating his chest. He seemed like he was thinking about all of the possibilities the night held, everything he could do with you (or to you, for that matter), and more importantly, what positions he could put you in. “No, definitely not.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You let out a sigh of content, already dreaming of the same things. A silence fell between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. With Jake, it never was. After a while, you felt the urge to speak again, to show your gratitude for his kindness. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.” You whispered. “It really helped.” His lips quirked into a smile as he pulled you closer to him. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m glad I could help, sweetheart.” He muttered, his lips still pressed against your hair. “And please, if you ever need help forgetting about anything at all, just give me a call. I’d love to help you out.”

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bookyeom · 2 months

Text

coming up for air - ksy

pairing: hoshi x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, a little suggestive but not much summary: you can't stop thinking about kissing Soonyoung. That's the plot.

A/N: I saw that video again of Booseoksoon talking about their first kisses and I cannot unhear Hoshi saying that he just wouldn't stop kissing and this is the result. Wholly unedited. Goodbye

Soonyoung is mortified. You can tell by the way he’s shrunk further into the couch cushions behind him as the guys whoop and holler. They keep playing the video Seungkwan found online of a fifteen-year old Soonyoung talking about his first kiss, and you wish you could make them stop. For your own sake, and for Soonyoung's.

“How long was your first kiss?” A voice asks from the phone as they replay it once more.

“I don’t know. I just… kept kissing,” comes Soonyoung’s response.

The guys are thriving on this new information. You know they’ll never let him live this down; they’ll use it as a form of torment and humiliation to tease Soonyoung for years to come. You, on the other hand, can’t stop thinking about it for other reasons.

You’ve had a crush on Soonyoung for ages, and the thought of just kissing and kissing and kissing him has you nearly in a puddle on the floor. Your cheeks are warm just from the thought of it. From the thought of his hand on your face as he’s got you pressed against a wall, his hand in your hair, pulling you in like he can’t get enough. From the thought of him pushing you back into your mattress as he kisses you senseless, his entire body pressed to yours as you make out for ages. From the thought of you, straddling him on the ugly couch in his apartment, his hands just under your shirt as you kiss and kiss and kiss.

“Hey, Y/N?” Your eyes snap to Jeonghan, who has a knowing, mischievous look on his face, and you immediately want to run. “What do you think? Do you think Soonyoung would be a good kisser?”

You’re too stunned to speak for a moment. You hate him. You hate that you ever thought it’d be a good idea to confide in Wonwoo, because Wonwoo is many things, but one thing he is not is a good secret keeper. You’d been grateful before to find out that he’d only told Jeonghan about your crush, but now you kind of want to strangle them both for betraying you like this.

You can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you, and now it’s your turn to be mortified. You ignore him as you shrug, trying to seem nonchalant when you manage, “I definitely think he’d be a better kisser than you, Hannie.”

The attention is swiftly taken off of you as your friends hone in and start to tease Jeonghan, and your shoulders relax just a little. You manage a glance at Soonyoung, but he’s looking away from you now and down at his hands. You stand up under the guise of going to the washroom, and then make your way to the balcony outside of Seungkwan’s apartment.

Once you get into the fresh air, you let out a long breath. You let yourself relax for a minute, safe and hidden from the teasing smiles and Soonyoung’s gaze. You’re not safe from your thoughts, however, as you fall back down the rabbit hole of wondering just what Soonyoung’s lips might feel like. God, you think miserably, he’s probably an amazing kisser.

You want to cry when you hear the back door slide open behind you. You turn, grateful for the dim lighting outside when Soonyoung gives you a little wave before joining you. If he could see how flushed you are just at the sight of him, you think you’d give everything away. He joins you at the railing, and you look back out over the city. You can feel the warmth from his arm even through his sweater, and he mumbles an apology when his elbow gently bumps into yours.

“Thanks for saying that in there,” he says softly after a moment, and you kind of want to be anywhere but here right now.

“Of course. Jeonghan is a little shit.”

Soonyoung hums in agreement, moving to rest his arms on the railing. It’s quiet between the two of you for a moment, and you can barely breathe, even with the fresh air that surrounds you. You’re panicking, trying to think of a way to excuse yourself before you blurt out something stupid, when he speaks again.

“For what it’s worth, I know you’d be a better kisser than Jeonghan, too.”

Your eyes widen as your head snaps towards him. He’s not looking at you, but you know he’s seen your reaction because the corner of his mouth turns up the longer you gape at him. You’re turned to face him completely now, one arm resting on the railing.

“You’ve kissed Jeonghan?” Is what comes out next.

Soonyoung looks at you now, eyebrows raised in surprise — and then he bursts into laughter. It’s a full-belly laugh, loud enough to jolt you slightly, and you’re so caught up in watching him that you don’t even really realize what you’ve just said.

“I’m here to report that I have not kissed Jeonghan,” he responds once he’s calmed down a little.

“Oh,” you blink. “Okay.”

“I haven’t even thought about it, really. No matter how pretty he is.”

You nod, but you’re a little lost with the conversation. Because Soonyoung’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you can’t stop looking at his mouth. You feel absolutely insane.

“Have you thought about it?”

You manage to pull your eyes back up to his, blinking as you try to understand what he’s just asked you. He’s smiling, and you think he’s moved closer, but you’re finding it terribly difficult to process any of it, honestly. “Thought about what?” you ask, your eyes falling to his mouth once more when he laughs.

“About kissing Jeonghan.”

You snap back to reality, meeting his gaze as he raises his eyebrows in question. He’s definitely moved closer now, because there’s barely a footstep between you. You search his face, and your heart leaps into your throat when you realize he’s doing the exact same. And when his eyes fall to your mouth, you can’t help the sharp inhale that leaves you.

“Maybe once or twice,” you say, and you’re proud of the way you manage to tease him just a little despite how shaky your voice is. “He’s pretty, you know. Like you said.”

“So are you.”

There’s no hiding the blush on your cheeks from him now. Not when his hand moves to brush your fingers that still rest on the railing, when you’re so close that you’re both under the shitty lamplight.

“You think so?”

Soonyoung smiles, and it’s so fond that you’re worried your knees will buckle. “I do.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, and he hums.

“You’re welcome.”

He’s closed the distance so that you’re toe-to-toe now, and he moves to gently back you against the railing. He leans forward, one hand coming to rest on the railing beside you. He looks for any sign of discomfort, but you give him none as you tilt your chin up, breath catching in your throat in anticipation.

“So,” he starts, eyes flicking between your eyes and your mouth. “Want to see how long we can kiss without coming up for air? Prove to teenage Soonyoung that he’s not a complete dumbass?”

It’s your turn to let out an unbecoming snort. You can’t help it. Soonyoung laughs with you, and your hand finds the back of his neck as you say, “As long as you don’t kiss Jeonghan later to compare, then yes. Very much yes.”

Taglist: @wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo

#ksy x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #soonyoung x reader #ksy fluff #hoshi fluff #hoshi x readerk #ksyfic #my writing #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines

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etirabys · 3 months

Text

meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again

I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.

I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.

TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.

The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.

Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:

Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition

And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.

(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")

I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,

(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)

it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.

(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)

which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that

(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)

I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking

(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)

#rambl #orson scott card #eti reads stuff #eti reads the homecoming saga #songmaster #content note: homophobia

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evilminji · 2 months

Text

You know what I would kill to see?

Nedzu, in the Zone.

He IS a registered Hero, after all. He probably gets calls for missions. Failing that, he's still legal allowed to intervene. Like, say, if some poor four year old were losing their shit? Got separated from their mommy, their headache, which has been getting Ochier ALL DAY has finally gotten Really REALLY bad... and they... they just CAN'T! So they melt down.

Whoops. Four year old with portals.

In a crowd.

Luckily he, Mr. Principle, is a "cute" looking sort of Hero. And as an educator, well trained in de-escala-*CRASH!* Some jackass glory chasing young thing, with no care for innocent lives around them, smashes onto the scene. Terrifying the poor child. Which obviously makes their non-existent control WORSE.

Starts throwing the word "villian" around.

Nedzu is going to EAT his license in front of him.

The poor thing is hyperventilating, crying, clinging desperately to Nedzus suit. Things are being flung from portals. Sucked into portals. He's seen no less then 53 SEPERATE dimensions on the other side of those rifts. At least two were to the open void of space.

He narrowly dodges a portal straight into the heart of a volcano. Can feel the blistering heat singe his fur. Alumni from HIS school, at least, have arrived to actually SAVE people. Get the crowd away from the danger zone.

And to think, all he wanted was some tea.

How this MORON doesn't recognize him, he has no idea. His graduates are actively SHOUTING his identity, for heavens sake. Yet the glory hound continues to chase his so called "villians" at the expense of everyone around him.

He's about to throw the boy to a near by police officer, to get to safety, when the worst occurs. The tract of land he was about to push off of disappears beneath them. The boy's mother screams. He activates High Specs, world slowing as his mind rushs. Twisting, he throws the boy high.

The portal closes before he can see if it is Eraserhead or Cementoss who will be the one to catch him. The odds were 68.3% in Eraserhead's favor. He hopes... Aizawa, does so take these things quite hard, he hope he will not blame himself.

There was no way to catch him in time.

He was already gone.

Gravity arrests, slowing to a drifting meander. The air thick with something the burns his sensitive nose. Green. Everything is a very peculiar green. This is not a planets or if it is, it is countless times larger then Earth. A gas giant of some sort? There does not appear to be a horizon.

In the distance, an almost stereotypical spaceship changes destinations. Now aiming right for him. It seems aid might be on the way. With nothing better to do, he waits. They slow to a stop, a hatch opens, and... oh? A young Hero student! Hello there young man! I am Mr. Principle of the illustrious UA!

And just? Danny? Trying to return this small furry alien guy back to his alien hero school? Getting the run around and "hmmmm, let me look that uuuup *takes forever* yeeeeah, soooorry. You're in the wrong department. You'll have to fly like three days to this OTHER department, fill out 260 forms, and dance for our amusement. Byeeeee~"

Like? He just wants to get this guy HOME! Why are you all LIKE THIS!?

All while Nedzu is " :) My, this is FASCINATING. I am learning new things, battling wits, learning new languages, AND guiding a promising young mind towards a future of Better Heroics? Delightful! This is practically a vacation!"

He even stops by the Fentons for dinner. Some fudge. A little light destruction of Goverment branches on the side. Just? A Grand ol adventure of Nedzu.

Danny suffers through bureaucratic hell. But Nedzu? The most mentally stimulated he's been in years. His crops are watered and his fur is groomed. Thriving! New toys!

Then?? He just... shows back up to work.

How did he return? Where has he been?? Who is this glowing green Hero Child groaning face down on his very expensive carpet? *sips tea* wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy! *maniacal Nedzu laughter*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @spidori

#dp x bnha #dp x mha #minji's writing #nedzus adventure au

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hariboz · 5 months

Text

NEW YEARS KISS

“your best friend decides to volunteer when you complain about not having anyone to kiss on new year’s eve!”

pairing: bff!gyuvin x gn!reader

genre: fluff!!, friends to lovers!!

warnings: reader is somewhat of a romantic (?), reader is also said to be a little inexperienced in terms of dating!!, a little (implied?) jealousy from gyuvin, seunghan cameo (1. FREE HIM!! HE DID NOTHING!! 2. he was the first non-jebi guy i thought of <3), they’re cute <3, this is nawt my best work i literally wrote this on new year’s eve while with my family 😭

notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY POOKIES!! i hope all of you have an amazing, healthy and happy 2024 🥹🫶🏻 may all your goals come to fruition!! also, i’m very excited for a new year with my jebis, may they continue to thrive and be as happy as they can be <3 also, hope wakeone burns down xoxo MWAH LOVE U ALL <33 ALSO!! i picked gyuvin for this bc some knetz are pissing me off currently with their stupid hate for gyuvin, so i decided to write this bc i LOVE KIM GYUVIN!! IF YOU DONT MAY GOD STRIKE YOU DOWN

word count: 1.6k

you don’t mind being single, really. it’s not really the ‘being single’ part that makes you feel weird, but rather just…not getting to have the same experiences as your friends. always having to sit and nod along when they talk about a date they went on, or how they celebrated a holiday with their partner. it’s exhausting being surrounded by couples all the time. they’re all your friends and you’re happy for them, but when it comes to events like this, you really wish you’d have more single friends.

new year’s eve is supposed to be fun, filled with laughter and loud excitement for the coming year — it is all that, but it’s also you watching your friends huddle together once the countdown to midnight starts, sharing sweet nothings before celebrating the new year with a sickeningly sweet new years kiss.

all while you kind of just stand there, celebrating the arrival of yet another year on your own. for those few lips-locking seconds, at least. is it a little silly to feel left out? of course, but is it really that absurd to want to experience a new years kiss just like everyone else? well, you don’t think so. gyuvin, your best friend, sees things a little differently, though.

“it’s so stupid, i don’t get why you’re so hung up on it,” gyuvin huffs past his snacking on some chips, throwing you a sideways glance. “just think about it, most of them have a different new year’s kiss every year. does that seem like something you want?” you roll your eyes, snatching the bag of chips from his hands. “you don’t get it,” you stuff a handful of chips into your mouth, “it’s romantic. it’s like saying ‘i have no idea what the new year will bring, but at least i will always have you.’ you’re not romantic enough for this.”

gyuvin just gives you a skeptic look, turning his attention back to the drama playing on your tv. it’s silent for a while, both of you a little lost in your respective thoughts until gyuvin quietly speaks up, “does it really bother you? that you don’t have someone to….” he trails off, voice a little unsure. his voice is sincere and doesn’t have the teasing tone it had earlier so you’re a little caught off guard.

you clear your throat, answering in an equally small voice, “well…yeah, kinda? i don’t know. i just think it would be…nice, for a change, you know? i want to experience stuff like that too, instead of just always watching from the sidelines.” gyuvin nods, seemingly understanding where you’re coming from, and that was that. for now, at least.

you didn’t think much of that little one off conversation, neither of you bringing it up again in the weeks that followed. though, unbeknownst to you, that seemingly unimportant conversation kept knocking at the back of gyuvin’s mind every single day. he thought about it an embarrassing amount, really. he kept telling himself that it was because he thought you were being silly, and all those times he thought about being the one giving you your new year’s kiss were definitely nothing more than fleeting, stupid thoughts. nothing more.

which is why gyuvin is so conflicted when he walks through the door of your little friend group get together on new year’s eve, bags of snacks in hand, only to see you laughing with a guy he hasn’t seen before. there’s an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in his chest and he almost involuntarily thinks back to your conversation, to the fact that you really want to kiss someone once the clock strikes midnight — and it starts to mess with his head.

he’s quickly roped into a conversation with ricky and some of his other friends, though his eye seem to be glued to you instead of the people talking to him right in front of him; his eyes drifting back to you giggling along to whatever that strange guy was talking about every few minutes, the unsettled feeling in his chest spreading all over his body. “are you even listening?” gyuvin’s attention is ripped away from staring holes in that guys head when ricky addresses him directly, ricky’s hand on his shoulder bringing him back to reality.

“yeah, sorry.” the smile on gyuvin’s face is tight, ricky glancing to where you’re still speaking to the guy and it all makes sense to him. he sends gyuvin a sympathetic look and tries to keep up the conversation, though it’s clear gyuvin’s mind is entirely preoccupied.

when the calls for new snacks start, gyuvin immediately volunteers to filling the bowls back up in the kitchen, if only to avoid his eyes from drifting back to you and the guy — whose name is seunghan, he learned — and in turn dampening his mood even further. today is supposed to be fun, why is he moping around like this?

“what did the chips do to you? you’re practically glaring ar them,” gyuvin’s head whips around at your voice, the playful smile on your face lifting some of the heaviness in his chest when he sees you standing in the doorway.

“oh, hey.” gyuvin gives you a small smile and goes back to his snack duties while trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “who’s the guy you’ve been talking to? you bring him along?”

shaking your head you reach over to steal a handful of cheese puffs gyuvin had just emptied into a bowl, “not me, but ahrin. his name is seunghan and she has her eye on him,” you mumble, “he’s funny and they both seem to like each other.” gyuvin nods, hand absentmindedly playing with his sleeves, “you think she’ll go for the new years kiss with him?” gyuvin asks, and you can tell he regrets the question as soon as he asked it.

you just shrug silently, the sudden mention of the kiss rendering you a little speechless. “ and you? you got anyone to kiss this year?” gyuvin says in an overly sarcastic tone, seemingly in an effort to loosen the tension a little. you snort at that, “ha ha, very funny. leave me and my romantic aspirations alone,” the lightheartedness in your voice makes gyuvin relax a little, and just when he’s about to speak, someone bangs against the kitchen door, demanding your attention.

“c’mon you two, we’re playing some games,” matthew calls before rushing back to the living room. you and gyuvin share a short glance before loading up on all the snacks and following suit, excited for the mess that is most definitely about to ensue.

two screaming matches, one round of (rigged, according to hao) just dance, three bowls of snacks and dozens of tears spilt through laughter later and the almost dreaded countdown to midnight is inching closer. the couples are slowly starting to separate from the group again, looking for an area that is less crowded and a little more romantic. your high mood is slowly starting to go down, the feeling of once again being the third wheel, in a way, accompanied by this off-putting feeling of loneliness in a room full of your friends bringing the self-doubt at the back of your mind to the forefront again.

gyuvin plops down next to you, stretching his long limbs with a groan, “god i hate sitting on the floor,” he looks around, the amount of couples in your friend group only now really hitting him, “damn, is that kiss really that important?” it was a rhetorical question, really, and he was speaking to himself more than anything, yet you turn to scowl at him.

you open your mouth to go on a rant about the lack of romance in gyuvin’s mindset when he suddenly turns to you, cheeks a little flushed but eyes filled with determination, “i’ll do it.”

you blink at him, “huh? do what?” gyuvin swallows, “kiss you. give you the new years kiss you want.” it takes a second for his words to register, before you splutter at him incredulously, “what— gyuvin why would we—“

“okay, time for the countdown! ten!” you hear from the other side of the room, and panic starts to fill gyuvin’s expression. “because i want to. i’ve been thinking about it ever since you mentioned it, and—“

“seven!”

“you said it was like saying that i have no idea what the new year will bring, but at least i will always have you, right?” his eyes search for yours, his pupils shaking and you nod, still a little stunned.

“four!”

“that’s exactly i want to tell you. so please—“

“three!”

“i want to be the one to give you your new years kiss. if you want—“

“two!”

and then, it happens. you grab his face and pull him close, hesitation for just a millisecond before your lips meet right as it reaches midnight. the fireworks outside colouring the sky feel almost pathetic in comparison to the burst of emotions exploding in your chest, it’s warm and fuzzy and just feels so right.

both of your faces are flushed bright red as your lips separate, but neither of you can keep from biting back the goofy smiles spreading on your faces. before you can even begin to think of something to say gyuvin leans back in, pressing another kiss to your lips.

and another. and another…and another.

you only separate for good when your giggles break through the kiss, gyuvin’s hands cupping your face, “i’d say that was a pretty good start into the new year, no?”

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soaqrudyz · 11 months

Text

i am of the firm belief that neither ghost or gaz cared very much for soap when he first joined the 141

gaz had never met him before, all he knew was the guy was just a little bit of a prick. he was incredibly talented, gaz would give him that, and he’d never been outwardly rude to anyone that gaz had heard of, but oftentimes his confidence bled into something just short of arrogance, soap always seemed to be the one ranting and raving about his achievements when everyone else spoke of their mistakes. in layman’s terms: he was full of himself in a way that would surely get him killed.

ghost; however, had met him before. they’d worked together some three times before price recruited soap. ghost knew of his skill, knew that sunny disposition got quieter at night when soap thought he was alone, knew soap would thrive with them; but god, if ghost could shove his thumbs into those all-seeing, all-knowing crystal eyes he’d do so in a heartbeat. he hated the way they seemed to burn straight through the heavy material of his mask, how they could look into his own eyes and hold infinite knowledge of his broken psyche by the time they flick to some other uninteresting member of his former squadron. it was horror, to be understood so wholly.

but then gaz got hurt, four days of medically induced coma hurt, and when he jerked awake at, if the clock on the shitty hospital tv was to be believed, 2 in the morning there was soap. he looked disheveled: hair a tangled mess, dark circles only worsened by the shadows of the mostly unlit room, and covered in scattered butterfly sutures. his head was leaned on his bicep, slumped over the lowered tray connected to gaz’s bed.

under his head were the blood and tear stained pages of his open journal, a gorgeous portrait of gaz sketched onto the yellowed sheets with sleep deprived rantings in the margins on how soap could have saved him if he’d just been quicker. gaz slips it out from under him, only feeling a tiny bit like an ass for flipping through the leather bound soul of his comrade, but soap had stolen his favorite shirt so it stood to reason he should take something back. the entire 141 is scribbled on in the pages, buried between bomb schematics and scenic landscapes and soap’s scrawled insecurities. something shifts as he soaks in the words, months of feeling like an outsider and desperate tries to be as good as his teammates.

it’s different, gaz thinks as he flips back to his own face, being in the mind of john mactavish.

but then ghost is walking past price’s office and soap bursts out, pushing past him with flushed cheeks and hurried apologies, practically sprinting in the direction of his shared room. ghost, loathe to admit it, was worried, afraid that the first real human connection aside from garrick he’d had in years was going to ripped from him before he’d even started putting time into it. he didn’t want to lose something good, not again, so he follows him, rushes to catch him before he slams the door in ghost’s face.

soap’s shoving clothes into his duffle when ghost slips inside his room, noticeably holding back tears as he rambles to himself. for a minute ghost is stuck, unused to such blatantly shown emotion, but then he takes a step, sets a gentle hand on soap’s shoulder and asks what’s going on, heart thudding against his ribcage.

“my ma..” soap croakes, and heavy sobs break up whatever else he was going to say. he doesn’t have to, ghost knows, probably better than anyone else.he does the first thing that comes to mind: he drags soap into his chest, wraps his whole body around him like he can protect soap from the hurt. the sergeant doesn’t deserve to feel that hollowness in his chest. soap crashes into him like a wave to the shore, balling his hands into ghost’s hoodie and hiding his face in ghost’s collarbones. ghost had never been one for physical closeness, but there was something different about being in johnny’s arms.

there was an obvious difference in their demeanor toward him in the weeks to come, but neither really cared about how it happened, just that it did, and now they can seek each other’s warm, pink tinted gaze when soap makes a fool of himself.

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hysteria-things · 3 months

Note

can u do like a chris or matt smut based on wet dreamz by j cole?? 🙏🙏

WET DREAMZ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: virgin!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt never takes his eyes off of you in math class. passing notes is normal for you guys, until one note changes everything.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,108

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i didn’t mean for this to take so long doing the notes part took a toll on me for no reason😭

matt never liked school, especially math class. he was never good at math and flunked it almost every year.

the only thing good in math class is you, his table partner. he fell head over heels the first he laid eyes on you at the beginning of the year.

the way you always looked nice, smelled good, never had a bad day… he thrived off of it.

he would think you guys became friends, being that you’ll always talk and make jokes instead of doing your work; which you guys always got in trouble for. that’s when the notes began.

on this particular day, you were wearing a shirt that had him gawking, and a skirt that hugged your hips and revealed your thighs made him crazy.

as you smiled and laughed at something he said, he couldn’t help but daydream about you and him. the way you’ll look riding him, your tits bouncing in his face. the way you’ll look at him as you suck him off until he can’t take it.

his pants started to tighten, and his eyes grew wide. the teacher was making students come up to the board to show their work on equations, and he was begging to not to be called up.

you tilt your head at the boy whose cheeks are red, biting your lip while you watch him. you rip off a piece of notebook paper, uncap a black pen, and write something down.

he admired how the cap was between your teeth before you slid the paper to him.

he pauses, staring at the note. he glances at you, who’s tilting their head and biting their lip, patiently waiting for an answer.

he opens a blue pen.

what he wrote is a lie, but if he told you the truth he’ll feel humiliated. he hates being an eighteen-year-old virgin. he feels like a loser, despite being one of the most popular kids at this damn school.

you giggle, a sound that he can never get tired of. you write underneath his message, sliding it back to him.

fuck. he thinks.

his palms start to sweat, gripping hard on his pen so hard that his knuckles turn white. his heart pounds in his chest, the tent in his pants continuing to grow.

matt sighs, scribbling on the piece of paper as if he’s not thinking about you naked on your bed right now.

the food he had for lunch churns in his stomach, wanting saturday to never come.

he knew he’d regret writing those, acting all big and bad as if he’d done this before.

taking a deep breath, matt rings the doorbell, the sound echoing throughout your house. he waits patiently for a few seconds before the door opens.

you’re there, dressed in short shorts and a bra, grinning widely at the boy. he looks you up and down, his dick twitching at the beauty in front of him.

“hi!” you beam, grabbing his hand and leading him inside. “let’s go to my room.”

the walk up the stairs seems long, and matt’s nerves get worse the closer you guys get. he watched porn videos like he was studying for a test, trying to figure out how the hell this works. he knew it would be useless since most porns are bogus.

once you guys get to the room, you push him onto the bed. you unbuckle his pants and pull down, palming him through his boxers.

he groans, praying to not cum already when he feels his dick throbbing painfully under your touch. the way your hand feels rubbing all over him doesn’t help either.

then, you flip your bodies to where he’s on top. you don’t break eye contact as you take off your bra, the way your tits recoil once their free makes matt’s mouth agape.

he pulls off his shirt, throwing it to where your bra is. you nibble at the inside of your mouth when he starts to take off your shorts, though he was hesitant at first.

his breath hitches when he realizes you don’t have underwear on. trying to stop his hands shaking, he pulls down his final piece of clothing. you stare in shock, underestimating how big he is.

he unwraps the condom he was holding and puts it on; at least he thinks. he honestly doesn’t remember how it goes.

exhaling, he aligns himself before you flinch and grabs onto it. “wait.” you say, and he stops. you swallow when his eyes meet your face. “i’ve never done this before.”

it’s like a weight got lifted off of matt’s chest, his nerves suddenly going away.

he smiles. “it’s okay. i’ll take care of you.”

you let go of his dick, and he slowly enters into your tight hole.

matt gains some confidence since you still don’t know he’s a virgin, and starts to move his hips softly. you take a few deep breaths as the pain eases, licking your lips at the fact you’re losing your virginity to the kid you’ve been crushing on all this time.

he moves his hips faster, waiting to see if you’ll protest, but you don’t. you moan louder instead, arching your back. his arms wrap under your armpits so he can grip your shoulders and push in deeper. “matt!” you moan in pleasure. “sh-shit.”

he grunts, sighing with relief that he didn’t fuck this up as he gets the hang of it.

“fa— ah!” he knows what you’re asking for so he doesn’t let you finish once he starts to rut his pelvis even faster into your pussy.

your toes curl, whimpering each time he thrusts deep into you.

your noisy, and you being noisy lets him know how good he’s making you feel. his eyes shut, reaching down to rub your clit for an extra sensation.

eventually, he hits just the right spot that has you moaning like a mantra and clenching hard around his cock.

eyes dazed, you roll them back before you squeal out. “matt— i’m cumming! i’m cu— f-fuck.”

he’s balls deep at this point, his sounds leaving his mouth to the feeling of his cock grazing your walls so swimmingly.

tumbling vowels fall from your lips while you squeeze around him one last time before pooling around him.

“oh my god, y/n,” he whines, his thrusts stuttering before spilling into the condom.

he pulls out, your whole body quivering. he disposes of the condom, and then wiping your watery eyes. he lays next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face in your neck. “thank you so much, matt.”

“no.” he chuckles. “thank you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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ghoul-bonez · 10 months

Text

~To You He Feels Like Home~

(Neteyam x Fem! Na’vi! Reader)

Summary: You were always a wild child, literally and figuratively. You were raised by the forest and by the creatures that lived within it, and you would never want it any other way, but when you were discovered by another Na’vi you are overcome with curiosity although the animals that raised you always warned you about the outsiders.

Word Count: 5.1k

Author’s Note: This is my longest oneshot to date, at 5.1k words & 11 google docs pages, and I’ve been working on it for weeks now… Hopefully you guys will like it :D This fic was inspired by @imeanwhynotbruv ‘s Mowlie! Spider AU which I LOVE!!! Very excited for y’all to read :)

~Last - Next~

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

To You He Feels Like Home

You were always wild, even as a young child. Part of that could be attributed to who was raising you, how you were being raised, and part of it was because of your personality. It came down to nurture versus nature, or nurture and nature.

You were wild by nurture, raised by the Great Mother, by her forest, and by the animals that inhabited it. In particular there was a mother palulukan who had taken you into her den with her two cubs. She was your protector, your teacher, your mother. She loved you, and that was all you needed.

You were wild by nature, always bouncing around, never able to sit still. You were fierce and strong, stubborn at times, and intelligent as could be, which you used to your advantage. It was good for your survival, but exhausting to your mother palulukan, and the other animals who had taken you under their wings to teach you different survival skills.

They had all had a part in your upbringing, every animal teaching you something different. Their lessons had turned you into the woman you were today, they had taught you how to survive, and not just that, but how to thrive.

The palulukan had taught you to fight, how to attack and pounce, and win. She had taught you to protect yourself in any situation. She had taught you that no matter how small you were, how weak you may seem to your opponent, that there would always be a way to come out on top.

The syaksyuk had taught you how to swing from tree to tree, how to escape from harm's way quickly, may you choose not to fight. They taught you about community and how to work together to get to your goal.

The yerik had taught you how to scare off predators, and if that didn’t work how to run, how to pace yourself and run for longer than you thought you could. They taught you to stay calm, to not let fear overtake you as you ran.

The nantang made sure you knew how to hunt, how to stalk then attack and finish off your prey. They made sure you could feed yourself. They made you work in a team, to take everyone's different skills into account.

The ikrans that visited from the mountains taught you how to navigate the air, although you could only do so with their help. They would show you how different different parts of the land were. They showed you what you and your family of creatures looked from above.

Your upbringing was untraditional and many Na’vi would question how you had even survived, but you knew how. There was a sense of community in your animal family that could never be rivaled. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Of course there were still things you had to teach yourself, like weaving and making clothes. This had taken some trial and error as you had started as a very young child, needing to form this skill for more protection against the elements and the forest. You had figured it out later than you would have liked, but eventually you got there and had created your own outfits.

Then you had to teach yourself how to make weapons, and how to use them. You had mastered making spears out of branches when you were young, and quickly moved on to finding hard enough materials to make knives and other blades. When your mother palulukan had noticed your proficiency of making weapons she had started bringing back lost Na’vi weapons like bows and hunting knives.

After lots of trials and errors, from carving the body wrong to tying the sting wrong, you had mastered making a bow. You had found the perfect type of wood, strong enough to hold up, but soft enough to carve. You had found the perfect string made from woven plant fibers. When you carved your final masterpiece the curve of the wood was perfect and the string strung tightly enough to work perfectly.

Then came using it. You had never seen anyone use one, and your mother palulukan refused to let you anywhere near other Na’vi, so you struggled. You had tried over, and over, and over again, and eventually it paid off. Your stance was wrong to most, strange looking to others, but it worked perfectly for you.

With all of your combined skills, ones the animals of Pandora had taught you and ones you had taught yourself, you had become a lethal hunter. Once you proved yourself capable your mother palulukan let you off on your own.

At the age of eighteen years you had been sent free, allowed to explore as you wanted, and so you did. You ran through the forest with excitement coursing through your veins. You climbed and swung from tree to tree without a care for your safety. You swam in streams and shook the water from your loose hair as you resurfaced. You hunted for your own food, coming up successful every time.

You felt free.

You had been so used to your mother palulukan hunting for you that doing it on your own was enthralling. It gave you a rush unlike any other, but you never took more than you and your family could eat, dragging it back home to your palulukan family’s den.

Your little family had never eaten like this before. They had never had a meal every day, sometimes going as many as five days without food, instead giving leftovers to you, the little Na’vi they had taken in who needed it more than they did. Now you made sure they were fed daily, you took care of them like they had you.

As much as you loved the takedown of your prey, your favorite part of hunting was the stalking. You loved tracking things, finding a scent trail and following it until you found prints in the ground. You loved watching the prey once you found it, staying hidden in the shadows and observing.

Sometimes you would even track when you weren’t hunting, practicing for later or simply wanting to observe the other animals of the forest. You especially loved watching the nantang packs as they were similar to your family but also so different.

Today had been no different, you had been out searching for the trail of a nantang pack wanting to watch and observe. However that plan changed when you caught a whiff of something you had never smelled before. It reminded you of something, yourself, but you didn’t know why.

You couldn’t help but do what you do best, stalk. You followed the scent, staying close to the ground, slinking around, and watching the dirt for prints from any type of animal. When the trail stopped and there were no prints in sight you were confused, where had it gone, you questioned.

Then it hit you, the trees, it had to be in the trees. You weren’t in the mood to climb right now, not wanting a chase in the trees, but you might not have a choice. You took a breath, steadying and readying yourself, slowly looking up to the trees to see what you would be chasing, and once you caught sight of what it was you gasped.

It was you, not quite, but something like you.

He had your blue skin, stripes laid across his skin and white freckles splattered across his body and face. He had your dark hair, but his was put up in braids, something you had no idea you could do. He had your large golden eyes which were widened just like yours right now.

You were perplexed. You knew you weren’t the same as your family, you knew you looked completely different, not the same species, but you hadn’t ever seen another person like you. You didn’t know there were other people like you.

The other person looked just as shocked as you, and he was. You looked Omaticaya, but he had never seen you before, and he had seen everyone in his clan as the next Olo’eyktan in training. He hoped you weren’t Omaticaya because of how rough of shape you were in. He never wanted anyone in his clan to be in this rough of shape.

You had scapes all over your body, little scars scattered where past cuts had been. Your hair was loose and messy, knotted and in need of a good brush and braid. As he studied the strange girl in front of him he was concerned for you, for the state you were in, but to you the unkempt hair and scars and nicks that cover your body are normal.

To you they feel like home.

To you the scrapes and scars, the cuts and nicks, feel like home. They feel like the forest as you run through the underbrush, barely dodging trees and roughly catching your arms against them accidentally. They feel like jumping into streams and rivers, scraping your knees on the rocks at the bottom as the current sweeps you off your feet. They feel like hunting as you accidentally catch your finger with your blade as you finish off your prey.

To him they were worrying, they showed pain and danger, but to you that was normal, pain and danger were regular parts of your life. To him it wasn’t, and he felt the need to make sure you were okay. You were standing strongly so clearly you weren’t too injured, but the idea of you being one of his people made him feel the need to check you over, to help you.

He jumped down from his hiding spot, gracefully landing in front of you, and suddenly you took off. You sprinted away, terrified of the stranger. You wanted to make your way back home, back to your mother palulukan and the den you called home. You wanted to be safe, you wanted to feel safe.

The man lagged for a second, thinking, before deciding to follow you, taking off after you. The chase went on for a while, his lungs burned as he kept up with you, close behind, but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up, and you didn’t seem to be slowing down.

“Wait, I just want to help!” He shouted after you, but that seemed to spook you more and you sped up.

You had no idea what the strange man had said, but his loud voice scared you. The sounds he was making were foreign to you, and it frightened you. He was communicating in a way you never had before. The way you communicated with your family was hisses and growls.

You were a good runner, had good stamina, but he seemed to be keeping up, although you could tell he was getting tired. The unfortunate part was you were getting tired too, and you would have to stop soon. You figured it would be good to stop sooner than later so you had enough energy to fight in case the need arose.

You saw a clearing to the right and zagged that way before stopping on the far end of it, crouched down like a palulukan, ready to pounce. The man stopped on the other side, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Like this he looked less scary, he looked weak as he was out of breath, like you could win this fight easily.

He looked at you through the braids that had fallen in his face, and his eyes held no malice. He wanted you to feel safe, or as safe as possible, around him, so he showed his weakness as he was out of breath. He wanted you to know he wasn’t going to hurt you as he showed you had easily outran him.

However you still felt threatened.

Your eyes were blown wide, adrenaline coursing through you as your mind ran a mile a minute. Your ears pinned against your head and you let out a wild hiss at the man, bearing your teeth and snapping them together a few times as a threat.

He didn’t challenge you back, instead dropping to the ground to sit with his legs crossed, arms in the air as a sign of surrender, or peace, that he meant no harm. He tried to make himself look harmless, tried to make himself look smaller.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, why wasn’t he challenging you, you asked yourself. You weren’t convinced he meant to harm You couldn’t let your guard down, and your hand flew to your knife at your hip as you snarled at him, trying to elicit a reaction.

He then realized he had his own weapons on him and he lifted his bow over his head from where it rested against him, and threw it to the side. He hesitated as he took his knife out of its holder, but he threw it next to his bow a few feet away.

“They're gone, okay.” He pointed to the weapons where they laid, “I want to help you. I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to explain.

Again you didn’t understand him, ears twitching at the unfamiliar sounds. Now you were more stressed than before. You stayed in place, ears pinned to your head again as you growled, but your hand moved away from your knife.

“There we go.” He spoke as your hand fell to your side, “What's your name?” He asked.

You felt the adrenaline wearing off, exhaustion starting to catch up to you and making you less hostile than before, blurring the lines of your fear. Your eyes were narrowed as your head tilted to the side, a questioning look on your face. You were scared because you couldn’t understand him, but you became more curious the more he spoke.

His voice was interesting, smooth and calming. You hadn’t heard anything like it before, and although you looked similar you weren’t sure if you could make the same sounds as him, accustomed to growls and hisses.

When you didn’t say anything back the man tried something different. He pointed to himself, “Neteyam.” Then he pointed to you, humming, “Hm?”

You growled back, trying to communicate the only way you knew how. He just cringed, taking it as aggressive while you were simply trying to voice your confusion.

He tried again, “Neteyam…” He pointed to himself, not saying anything else afterwards.

“Neteyam.” You whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Then you cleared your throat, “Neteyam.” You parroted.

“Yes. Neteyam.” He nodded, happy you seemed to be getting somewhere, “You?” He asked, pointing to you.

“Hm?” You hummed, copying the noise he had made to you earlier. You thought it was a questioning sound, and you hoped your assumption was correct.

Something clicked to Neteyam, “You can’t understand me, can you?” He asked, not particularly expecting an answer.

“Hm?” You questioned again.

“Okay…” He took a second to think. Who were you? Where did you come from?

“Neteyam.” You spoke again, getting his attention. You then pointed to yourself and growled, you seemed to be trying to communicate something, and you were. You had growled your name, what your palulukan family called you.

He didn’t quite understand you, “Hm?” He asked.

You just growled again, pointing to yourself. Clearly this wasn’t getting anywhere.

“I’m going to give you a name, or a nickname I guess.” He told you, but you didn’t understand. If you had known what he had said you would have disagreed adamantly, you don’t need a different name, you have one already, but you didn’t understand, so when he pointed to you and said, “(Y/n).” The name sounded beautiful, and you loved the way it rolled off his tongue.

Your head tilted to the side, confusion written on your face, but you didn’t protest. Instead you nodded your head, seeming content, “Neteyam.” You pointed to him, “(Y/n), hm?” You pointed to yourself questioningly.

He smiled, “Yes.”

“Yes.” You copied him, but you weren’t smiling, still confused by the foreign words.

He patted the ground in front of him, inviting you to sit by him, but you don’t approach, instead sitting where you were a few feet away. He seems so calm, so relaxed, as he sits with his legs crossed and arms behind his as he leans on them. You however are stiff, skittish, as you sit on your knees, hands in your lap. You looked ready to take off at any second.

Neteyam tried to calm you down with reassuring words, even though he knew you couldn’t understand him, his calm tone seemed to take off the edge. You were scared of him, but slowly starting to believe he meant no harm. He wasn’t dangerous.

As you sat there with him he went on, and on, talking about whatever came to mind with that smooth tone. You could sit there and listen to him talk forever, but soon the sky is darkening and you realize it is time to head back home, to the comfort of your den, your mother would be waiting for you when you get there. She would be ready to allow you to cuddle up next to her and let go of the stress of today.

You’re not frantic when you stand up, instead more fixed on having a mission, to get home, but Neteyam doesn’t understand that, and so he stands up after you. You don’t pay him any mind until you start walking away and he follows you. Frustrated that he’s trying to follow you, you hold your hand out towards him, hissing.

“No!” You shout, a word you had picked up from Neteyam talking to you.

“Oh.” Neteyam simply comments. You were a quick learner apparently, picking up on the word and figuring out how to use it already.

You turn away and start walking off, and this time he doesn’t follow you, waving towards you and saying, “Goodbye, (Y/n).” He pauses before saying quieter, “I hope I see you again.” Not loud enough for you to hear.

Your mother palulukan was confused that night when you came home without a meal, but when you broke down in tears she moved to comfort you. You let out all of the stress from over the past few hours in tears and sobs, and eventually you stilled, fell asleep on her large warm body, and finally you rested.

You had intended to never see Neteyam again, but you kept running into him. It was frustrating and confusing. You had no idea why it kept happening, but of course you knew Eywa had a plan for everyone, and everything happens for a reason, but you weren’t sure why she was so insistent on putting you and Neteyam together.

The day after your first encounter you had your second meeting. You had been trying to hunt when you somehow ended up back at the clearing. You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but you gave in, sitting with him for a while before continuing your hunt.

The third time, the third day in a row now, you had been napping in a completely different area of the forest when you woke up to Neteyam looking at you curiously. It wasn’t necessarily in a creepy way, but it had spooked you at first before you calmed down. This time you did not stick around, walking off with a dismissive grunt to Neteyam.

The fourth time, a few days later, he had found you while you had been frolicking around in the Hallelujah Mountains. You had been hiding out there, trying to avoid him by not even being in the forest, but he had found you again somehow.

That went on, and on, until you admitted defeat, accepted your fate, Eywa was determined to have you and Neteyam together, and who were you to deny the Great Mother’s will. She knew all, and you trusted her, so you took her lead.

Every time you ran into Neteyam you would spend a little more time with him, and eventually that time built into hours, and then days, from sunrise to sunset you would spend your hours with him. You cherished your time with Neteyam and he certainly enjoyed your company, your attention.

Your palulukan mother was less than pleased with how much time you were spending with the Na’vi boy, but she understood you needed companionship with your own kind. She figured you would grow curious eventually and would venture out in search of people like you, and she was proud of you for making a friend, but she wished you would be home a little more.

When you finally gave into spending time with Neteyam you figured you should learn how to communicate, learn to speak his language. You would much rather teach him yours, but yours was more general emotions and less words, less actual conversation and more communicating how you're feeling through growls and hisses, hunched shoulders and bared teeth.

Today you were sitting by a river, somewhere Neteyam had shown you, as he tried to teach you the Na’vi language.

Neteyam pointed to different features on his face as you named them quietly, touching them on your own face as you went, “Ears. Eyes. Nose. Mouth.”

“Good job!” He praised you, a smile on both of your faces.

You were learning slowly, struggling to pick up a second language so much different from your first, but when you grasped a certain word you had it for good. You had started using the words you knew in basic sentences like “How you?” when you would first see him. You would listen intently as if you knew everything he was saying although you only picked up on certain words.

What really got Neteyam was when you would say goodbye when you parted ways at the end of the day. Instead of saying “Goodbye.” or something similar you would blurt out “Love you!” as you walked away.

It always got Neteyam’s heart beating in his chest, hard, and he couldn’t help but smile every time. He would say, “Goodbye (Y/n). Love you too.” because the one time he hadn’t reciprocated you had pouted and nearly cried.

He didn’t think you understood the significance of those words, of the word love, but you definitely did. You didn’t use it lightly, it being the only word you had learned to describe how you were feeling for Neteyam, and it described your feelings perfectly.

You truly did love him, as a friend, maybe more.

You appreciated what he did for you, but it went so much deeper than that. You loved how he was patient with you, giving you all the time you needed. You loved his voice, how he would talk to you even if you didn’t understand. You loved how he laughed, how he smiled, how his eyes seemed to glow when he was around you.

You love him.

You loved him like you loved the forest, it’s green foliage keeping you safe throughout your life. You loved him like you loved your mother palulukan, like a warm hug at the end of the day. You loved him like you loved the sounds that played all around you constantly, drowning out your negative thoughts.

You love him like home.

As you were mulling over your feelings, thinking whatever came to your mind, you had been zoning out, gone silent as you looked off into the distance. Neteyam took this chance to mess with you a little. He scooped up some water from the stream in his hands and threw it on you, bringing you out of your thoughts as the cool water hit your face.

You gasped, “Neteyam!”

He just laughed, pointing at you as your jaw was dropped, brow muscles raised, and eyes open wide. Your look of offense amused him and your look quickly switched to a scowl, and Neteyam felt himself still, that was never a good look on you.

You moved quickly, smiling mischievously splashing water onto him too. He looked surprised, like he hadn’t expected this from you, and you used that to your advantage, splashing him again, harder this time, with more water.

This time he was quick to move, trying to grab you and throw you into the deeper part of the river, but your reflexes were faster than him and you got up, running away like a mad woman. You smiled before jumping into the river, submerging your lower body before he could do it for you.

You thought hard, trying to form a coherent sentence, when you thought you had it you shouted, “Come get me!” Taunting him.

As you taunted him he just smiled, a sense of childish joy overcoming him. It reminded him of when he was younger. When he and his siblings would play in streams closer to home. When his father would play with them. It reminded him of family, you were quickly becoming family, but in a deeper way.

He loved you like family, he loved you like a calm afternoon at home with everyone sitting around, talking and playing games. He loved you like a partner, someone to share his own home with, where his family could come over for dinner and share stories. He loved you like someone new to the family, like someone his family could learn to love.

He loves you.

“Oh yeah?” Neteyam asked, smirking at you. He stayed where we was on the river bank, feet barely in the water.

“Yeah!” You shouted, challenging him by splashing the water around you.

He seemed to be contemplating it, over exaggerating his movements dramatically, “I don’t know… I might just stay here…” He joked.

You frowned, not understanding his joking tone of voice, “Fine…” You turned away from him, getting ready to leave the river.

However you didn’t get the chance when you heard splashing behind you, and it was too late. He ran up to you splashing you, getting your entire back wet, including your hair.

You whipped around, gasping both at the cold water and the shock of not expecting it. You shouted at him, arms crossed over your chest, “Rude!”

Neteyam laughs loudly, “Oh I’m rude? You’re the one who told me to come get you.” He defended himself, rolling his eyes.

“You…” You thought of what word to use, not sure what the word for this action was, you settled on, “hit me first!”

Neteyam was quick to correct you, “Splash, the word is splash.” He really did not want you telling people he was hitting you if you ever met his clan. He hoped it was less of an if, and more of a when.

You took in the information, “You splash me first.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling you won the conversation.

“And I’ll do it again!” Neteyam laughed, running at you, ready to throw more water in your face, but you turned to run away from his attack.

As you were running you slipped, falling to your knees and feeling pain shoot through one of them, “Ow.” You hissed out.

Neteyam was quick to rush to your side, helping you up and walking you to the edge of the river where you sat down. You inspected the cut, it wasn’t much and you would be okay in a day or so, “I am okay.” You tried to assure Neteyam.

Neteyam frowned, “I’m sorry. Let me fix you up?” He asked.

You knew if you said no he would practically beg you to let him help you, so you gave in, “Okay.”

Neteyam sat down, pulling your leg over his lap so he had better access to your knee. He inspected the small wound, thinking about what Kiri had told him would be best for it.

He was quick to pull out the little pouch of healing equipment he had, herbs and plants, pastes and drinks, he was equipped for anything. He had decided to carry anything he would need to treat your small cuts and scrapes because every time you would see him you would have more and more. They never seemed to stop coming, so he promised he would do his best to help you.

He pulled out a paste you recognized, and before he could speak you mocked him, attempting to copy his voice, “This one will sting.” You fell into a fit of giggles afterwards.

He just chuckled at you, “You’re right.” You seemed to always be right, you picked up on other things, besides learning the Na’vi language, easily.

You smiled, sighing happily, “I know.”

Neteyam hums, smiling at you , “Tell me, how have you been? What have you done today?” He tried to distract you while he put the paste on.

It worked as you quickly responded, “It has been great. I have gotten to see you…” You trailed off, smiling shyly, before continuing, “This morning I went on a hunt, took food home to my mom. My siblings are moving out finally, so it is just us now. Less mouths to feed.”

“Good… Neteyam answered simply, focusing on what he was doing as he wrapped a bandage around your knee.

“Thank you.” You pulled his face up to look at you, a small smile was on your face, lips gently curved, eyes softened to liquid gold, “For everything.”

He sighed, content, as his face melted into your hand, pressing your skin to his, “It’s really no big deal. I would do anything for you. I would get you anything you need, anything you want.” He admitted softly, quietly.

You smiled, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his, “I know, and Eywa do I love it. I love you.”

He smiles back, the happiness reaching his eyes, and if you listen close enough you can hear his heart thumping in his chest, ready to pop out, “I love you too, (Y/n). I see you, and I will show you that every day.

Every time he tends to your wounds he is so careful, he is so careful with you. He is careful in a way the forest has never been, in a way it never will be in the future. The forest gives you safety in the form of protection through the hard and marred skin you have covering your body. The forest shows you its love through injuries you’ve sustained from your years of survival, it gives you love by allowing you to survive.

Now you don’t need the love of the forest, you need the love of him. He feels like scars, and bruises, and cuts, and pain. He feels like safety. Like how you once had found safety and solace in the cuts and bruises you bared, how your unkempt hair and scars felt like your home, to you he feels like home.

Word Bank:

Great Mother (Eywa)

Palulukan (Thanator)

Syaksyuk (Prolemuris)

Yerik (Hexaped)

Nantang (Viperwolf)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

Omaticaya (Forest Na’vi)

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

#fanfic #fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar movie #atwow fics #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem!reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam suli x reader

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yuta-nation · 6 months

Text

Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)

summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.

content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.

You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity.

Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities.

“I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.

You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping.

And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.

The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ.

Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything.

“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.

“Oh, Yu, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”

“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”

“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”

“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”

“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.

“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke.

“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys.

“Wait. Do you need a condom?”

“W-what?”

“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”

“No!”

“What do you mean no? You can’t–”

“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.

“Condom.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.

“Love you too.”

You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.

“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you.

“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”

“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”

“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling.

“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’”

“What does that mean?”

“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.

“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again.

“Now, what do you mean by that?”

“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”

“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand.

“Yuta…”

“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating.

“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him.

“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”

“Not good?”

“I’ve never…y’know.”

“Never what?”

“I’ve never finished, okay?”

“You’ve never cum before?”

“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”

“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.

“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.”

Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair.

After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.

“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”

“Who said that?”

“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother.

“I can help you.”

“How?”

“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him.

“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”

“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”

“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”

“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”

“...Just once?”

“Yeah, only tonight.”

“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord.

Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now. You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.

Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby. You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.

“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows.

Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt.

“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.

“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation.

“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.

“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.

“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.

He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you.

“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”

“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”

“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else.

“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high.

“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin.

“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.

“See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”

“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need.

You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.

“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist.

“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”

“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water.

“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own.

“Where’s that condom you were talking about?”

“Purse.”

“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.

“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.

“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening.

Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you.

He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.

“You can move Yuu, want you to.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust.

“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”

“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”

“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips.

“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.

“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”

“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two.

He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.

“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.

“...No. Not even a little bit.”

“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”

“What if I want to?”

“Huh?”

“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.

“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”

“Done. You’re the only man I need.”