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cherry-leclerc · 3 months

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method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates, fluff, smut, denial of feelings

word count: 4.6k

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...f!receiving, fingering, dry humping

cherry here!... seeing as we're basically at the end, i will go ahead and say that this series has been based off of Roman Holiday! c'mon now guyssss - enjoy the spiciness ;)

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 4

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

If there was a reasonable explanation of a frog finding a home deep inside your throat, then you would somehow understand because at this moment, it sure felt like it. Charles doesn’t do much apart from blinking at an extremely slow pace. You knew that day that you should have turned the other way, but like always, your curious mannerism won. Here were the consequences and now you had to deal with them. Your lips part, ready to aim meaningless excuses but instead release a shaky breath, finding it hard to make eye contact with his soft orbs.

“How did you find out?”

A stupid question, you knew that, but there wasn’t much to say. It was motifying enough now that you knew, he knew. “You remember how I always beg you to wash your hand every time you finish eating those little chocolates you like?” His lips curl. “You must have forgotten to do so the night before.”

Heat rushes all throughout your body as you come to a halt. His accent emerges with no trace of anger, but rather embarrassment of his own. Shame. Noticing you’ve stopped, he turns back to face you, only a few steps marking a distance between you two. “I don’t know what else to say other than sorry.” A sudden urgency zaps through your veins as you walk closer to him, broken cobblestones rubbing against your shoes. “That was something private and I crossed the line, Charles. Y-you don’t understand how sorry I am.”

A lazy shrug is all you receive from him as he sheepishly smiles though there’s a downcast to the act. “You don’t need to apologize. I should.” His words make you blink with confusion. No you don’t. Green eyes flicker onto the pavement before connecting back to your dreadful ones. “No, I do. I haven’t been honest.”

He visibly gulps, strong Adam’s Apple dancing its way up and down. “I’m sure you know by now. Considering you read it.” Sharp nose twitches, fingers drumming against his thigh. “But I want to hear it from you.”

Further heat rises as you furrow your brows. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth. From what you read in between those pages, who am I to you?”

Flashes of his messy handwriting scribble its way into your fuzzy brain. Entries where he would talk about the hydraulics, whatever that meant, to depressive episodes he tries perfecting to keep out of sight. It’s sweet, raw, funny, and you ruined it for him.

“You’re just Charles. A man who enjoys spending his time playing piano, even if he can’t curve his fingers in time to hit the right notes. The one who proceeds to chuck an apple at…” You nibble on your lips, mind digging into the deepest delves as you try to remember. “Joris’ head?”

Pink blush feathers onto his cheeks as he bites his tongue. “You read that?”

A soft giggle erupts. “It was pretty entertaining.” He chuckles, but there is evidence that he was pleased by your answer. You find yourself wanting to continue. “A brunette who likes to tease a city girl when it comes to the amount of sweets she eats.” A lot, he snickers as you bite the air. “Someone who cares enough to take me on walks when I need it to calm down. Even if I don’t know it myself.” A pause. “You’re not some snotty F1 driver who brags out to the rest of the world how rich and famous he is. You’re clumsy, hilarious at an unhealthy amount that makes me think I can form a six pack without ever stepping foot in the gym, and you’re the kindest man I’ve ever met.”

Charles’ heart does an unfamiliar dip as he takes in your breathless state, as if someone’s just saved you from drowning. His feelings lunge towards you as he feels your genuine honestly. You weren’t just telling him what you thought he needed to hear, no, you were spilling it all out as if it were the easiest thing you’ve done in your entire life.

He feels stupid for keeping this from you, thinking you would betray him in some sick and twisted way. That you would think differently - treat him differently - if you knew how many zero’s took place in his net worth. How could he have ever doubted you?

Suddenly your eyes shine a little brighter, as if that were possible. Your lips blossomed into the prettiest shade of pink as you sheepishly smiled back at him. Your aroma quickly becomes his favorite scent in the world and he wishes for nothing more than for you to look at him the exact same way he looked at you.

“I’m really glad we met.”

Your smile widens. “Lo stesso qui.”

The opportunity had presented itself, landed right in the palm of your hand. The universe gave you a chance…and you blew it. Your initial thought was that you, too, would come clean, but as soon as he started moving his lips and opening up to a level you never imagined you would ever reach, you pushed it further into the back of your mind. And now days have passed and it was just weird and awful that you never mentioned it in the first place.

Times like these, you wish you had your cheerful friend to tell you what to do. Dialing her number, you patiently wait for her to pick up. Hello? The taste of home makes your heart warm as you beam. “Amelia, it's me.” A loud pitched scream flies into your ear as you pull your phone away. “I’m aware I’m missable, but there’s not need for you to-”

“I’m engaged!”

Your jaw drops, clumsy fingers navigating to press on FaceTime. The blond answers straight away, stunning diamond already being shown off as you gasp. “You’re fucking shitting me? Amelia Thompson! You’re about to be locked down for life.”

Your friend happily shrugs before hopping up and down. “This is cra- insane. This is insane. Isn’t it insane?” It’s actually very sane if you ask me. You two are meant for one another. Two peas in a pod. Her smile widens as she scrunches her nose in a playful manner. “I mean I just thought this wouldn’t happen for another year or so, but then he took me to that little park we love to go on Sunday’s and then a bird attacked him and th-”

“Back up, a bird attacked Roman?”

“Oh yeah,” she firmly states, red lips pursed as if to refrain from releasing a loud laugh. “It was a whole thing…”

Sitting there and listening to Amelia rant all the while Roman smiles as if he’s never seen a better encounter in his entire life, it suddenly hits you. Pangs your heavy chest. You were happy for the couple, over the moon, but you couldn’t help but mourn the end of an era. It only seems as if a few years ago you two were tugging heavy suitcases into your empty apartment. It would only be so long before she eventually moves out, leaving you alone. And it's not just that, but now you realize how lonely you’ve been these past few years since all you’ve ever done is dedicate your heart and soul into proving to be something you desperately wanted to be.

“Helloooo?”

Snapping out of your self pity, you blink rapidly. “Sorry.” You release a content sigh, swooning as you nuzzle your head into the crook of your elbow as you press your face against the fancy marble. “I’m so happy for you both, really.” But? “But I’m jealous Roman gets to keep my roommate. I was here first.”

Amelia giggles. “You’ll forever be my favorite roomie. Plus, Roman kicks in his sleep so it's only a matter of time before I hit him with the divorce.”

It’s only after you two hang up that you realize you still hold everything inside your chest. Sighing, you make your way out to the terrace, hoping to find some peace and tranquility. Instead you find the Monegasque blaring rock music as he does yoga. 25/50 of what you were looking for.

“Does this actually help you relax?”

Like a cat jumping out of its skin, Charles yelps as he hears your voice. He clutches his chest. “Does that answer your question?” The corners of your lips turn upward. He squinted at you, head pointing towards the house. “Good news?”

“Very. Amelia and Roman are getting married.”

His lips stretch into a sincere smile as he stands up straight. “That’s great.” Nodding, you tug your own mat as you begin to stretch. His stomach flips at the simple act.

“She deserves it. They both do.”

Even as the music blares at an alarming rate that should have you worried for your hearing, you don’t move an inch and neither does he. With slight hesitance, the brunette licks his lips. “And how are you feeling?” You blink, suddenly losing balance as you plant your bare feet. Me? He nods. “You have feelings too, right?”

“I mean, do I really have the right to say anything else other than I’m glad my friends are finally tying the knot?” Floppy curls fling forward as he pretends to nudge your shoulder with it. You bite back a grin before you twirl into a soft frown. “I’m a bit sad.” A small click coming from him is enough for you to continue. “I guess I’m just not used to being alone. Amelia has been with me for as long as I can remember.”

“And she’ll always be there, you know? Only now, she’ll have a different last name and shiny ring.”

You roll your eyes. “What I mean is that it's starting to hit me. How far I’ve fallen behind in the dating category. All those times I’ve been asked out, I pushed them all away because I either had too much work or wanted to spend time with my friends. Now they’re getting married and I’m just kind of…here. I wish I knew what I was turning down.”

The Monegasque lets out a light whistle, fingers snapping as he stares off into the distance. “I would like to pretend that I don’t know what you mean, but I do. Racing is everything to me - it’s what makes me happy - but that won’t always be there. It's a scary thought to have, I know, but that's the way the world works. We need to grow up even after we’ve grown up. It’s a thing that continues for a lifetime and ends with death.”

Your eyes widen with alarm as you gasp at his gloomy perspective. What if you were still wasting time? For sure you still were, but what were you doing with your life? You’re just a broke girl who forms relationships with people you love to spend time with only to use their words for your benefit. A dark chuckle roars from your roommate as he quirks his head. Don’t get too freaked out. “Don’t scare me then.”

Charles shrugs nonchalantly. “You’ll meet someone soon. Someone who will love you as much as you love your piles of junk food.” You aim a sour scowl. He snickers, but continues. “And you’ll realize that all the worrying was for nothing.” The soft sound of waves crashing fills the silence. “But please invite me to the wedding.”

There’s a soft glow to you when you let out a bittersweet smile. “You promise you would go?”

“I thought I made that clear when I said I would go wherever you are.”

Your breath hitches, a gust of wind nearly knocking you down just as efficiently to his meaningful words. Forcing yourself to look away, you press your lips into a fine line, head bobbing in understandment. He shifts. “Teach me a few poses?” you ask, signaling to the mat.

Let me taste your silhouette. You can talk between my legs.

“Oh um,” he stutters, red painting his entire face, briskly reaching to turn the music down. You suppress a giggle as you stare back blankly, lips occasionally wobbling, threatening to let out a teasing smile. “I-I-I don’t usually hear music like this. I m-mean - I do - but…it helps me relax.”

Giving up, your lips stretch, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You get more interesting day by day, Charles Leclerc.”

It’s now Monday and you still haven’t met your word count. It should be easy, you have lots of useful information, but every single time your fingers glaze over the mocking letters, you only think about how terrible of a friend this all makes you. And it’s as if Eleanor knows your lack of work, lengthy emails entering your inbox with daily reminders about your due date. It doesn’t help either that the green eyed boy keeps reminding you about the last two weeks you two have together.

“I’ve just gotten so used to you,” he pronounces as he cuts up fresh peaches. “It’s going to feel wrong not seeing you often.”

Your fingers come to a halt. “Let’s just not think about it. How about a round of Truth or Dare?” You wiggle your brows. “Game?”

“Game.”

“Truth or Dare?” Dare, he eagerly spits out, anticipation evident. “Okay. What does the golden pin actually stand for?”

He scrunches a teasing brow. “You really thought this one through - used your brain. I’m impressed.” You hiss, pen barely missing his head. He cackles nonetheless at your childish behavior. “It’s sort of the same thing as I told you that day. He did say to go retrieve it when I got a Ferrari.”

Now it’s your turn to bunch your neat brows. “But you already own a Ferrari.” A slow smirk paints your lips. “Oh! You want to brag!”

“No,” he scolds. “Would you let me finish?” Relaxing against the pillows, you nod. “When I got a Ferrari championship. Only then could go get this mysterious horse. I think he thought I could do it.”

Your heart twists as you note his wretched smile. “Do you think you can?”

He sighs. “I’m actually not sure. Y’know when I first joined the team, I really thought I could. I mean, everyone around me was telling me how great I was, how my long contract must have meant I was extremely worthy. Now all I get are pity stares. High expectations that have me second guessing everything.” He turns to you. “But then the church was about to be demolished, so I had to go get it regardless.”

Licking your dry lips, you nibble before releasing. “I know you can do it. He might not be here to let you know anymore, but I am. And I know you can.” A beat. “Is that why you gave it to me?”

The brunette winces before tilting his head. “I don’t deserve it.”

In a single movement, you hurriedly crawl over to him as you slap him. Suddenly he’s on high alert as he grabs his cheek in pain. What the fuck? You smile sheepishly. “Don’t you dare say shit like that, Charles Leclerc. You have to believe in yourself the same way you did when you were a kid…I’m keeping the pin.”

His gaze darkens. “Oh, so you don’t believe I’m going to ever get a Championship either?”

“Don’t be stupid. I know you will, but I’ll take care of it for you. That way you have something to work for. I’ll be your temple,” you offer as he quirks a brow.

“My temple?”

You hum. “They’re knocking down the other, so I’ll take over. And I’m just letting you know right now that I’m not giving it up that easily. You have to work really fucking hard.”

Charles’ pulse speeds at your determination and belief, so much so, that a certain kind of pride that had left him long ago returned. He could do this, he could win. He would win. Even if it killed him. An unknown flicker strikes his green eyes as your stomach churns.

“You’re not like the others I’ve met…” He grabs your hand, making you flinch in surprise. “I’m going to do it. For you.”

It’s as if he stole your breath away as you struggle to regain your composure. “...And for him.” His grin never once melts away as he squints a shy eye, lashes fluttering. That was implied, too. You’re the first to pull away as you purse your lips. “Your turn. I pick Dare.”

The Monegasque coughs. “I dare you to tell me a secret.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t you think you have to work for it? I can’t just give it up like that.” Shaking your head and crossing your arms, you pout.

“Oh, come on! It could be any. Your pick.”

“How generous,” you murmur. “I dented your car.”

He gapes, eyes zigzagging as he forces a smile. “No, you said it was a little boy who kicked a soccer ball.”

You wince. “I was trying to back out of the driveway to go get us some donuts and I wasn’t looking and next thing I knew…” You’re rambling for sure. “It’s not that bad?”

Charles groans. “I told off the first little kid who passed by with a soccer ball, thank you for that.”

You shriek. “Liar! No! What did you say?”

A smirk slithers onto his face. “I’m totally kidding, I knew it was you.”

“But-”

“I heard when it happened - it’s what woke me up in the first place. I stood up to check and saw you driving away.”

“I’m sorry,” you chirp. “You shouldn’t have left the key out like that for me to grab! So if you really think about it, it’s kind of your fault.”

“Of course it is,” he pressed with amusement. “I forgive pretty easily, so I’ll let you off the hook.” Your palms sweat with uneasiness. “Your turn. I pick Truth.”

It’s as if you’ve suddenly become extremely dehydrated as you blink back blankly. “Got a crush on anyone back home?”

“Skip.”

This gets you curious as you arch your brow. The Monegasque goes to extreme lengths to avoid eye contact. “You have to answer, that’s not how the game works. I promise I won’t tease.”

Long fingers drum against his lap as he whips his head, shaggy hair brushing along his face. “Maybe so, but I’m using my free pass.”

You let out a heavy heave. “What are you talking about?”

“Remember I gave you a free pass when we first played Truth or Dare by the shore and I said I would only let you skip if I got one of those in return? Okay, well, I’m using it now.”

“Wha- that’s not fair! That was so long ago, it doesn’t even count.”

He chuckles. “Yes it does.”

With a sour expression, you huff and cross your arms. “Fine. I don’t want to play anymore.”

“You’re choice.”

The remainder of the day was spent with you locked away and Charles on a business call. Now that you knew what he was hiding, it was easier for him to get some work done. Either way, it worked out because before you knew it, you were nearly done. And he was clearly bothered.

“Looks like someone chewed your ear off.”

The Monegasque cringes at the brutal image as he sighs. “Do we have any more ice cream?”

“Nope. Finished it last night.” Analyzing his tense shoulders, you step closer to him as you tilt your head. “It won’t help you get over whatever’s on your mind, though. Want to talk about it?”

He extends his long legs underneath the table, head rolling back as he groans. You shiver, a pool forming in between your legs at the sight. Your body’s reaction feels filthy as you shake your thoughts away. “I was on the phone with my manager. They signed the contract. They actually did it.” He squeezes his eyes in disbelief.

“What contract?”

The brunette finally opened his green orbs, annoyance circling them. “Looks like I’m getting a new partner.”

This comes as a complete shock to you as you make your way to an open chair. “When? Who?”

“Starting 2025. Lewis Hamilton.” Kicking an empty chair away, he grunts. “Oh my God, and here I was thinking I had a chance…” He laughs hysterically. “A chance.”

Seeing him so distraught made your stomach hurt as you shook your head along with him. “I don’t see how this is a bad thing…change is good, no?”

A soft chuckles flies past him as he angles his head to catch your puppy lost state. “First of all, I really enjoyed having Carlos as a teammate. We worked well together. Second of all, compare me - a twenty six year old with five wins in his entire career - to a seven time World Champion.” His shoulders droop. “Who do you think is going to get all the attention and support from the team?”

Your lips part, then snap back shut. He smiles, already shrugging it all off. “It was doomed from the start, I don’t know why I’m so surprised.” Loopy eyes hug your sympathetic ones. “I just don’t want to let you down.”

Frowning hard, you tsk your tongue. “I have a feeling it’s impossible for you to do that. You’ve got this, have a little faith.” Slipping away from your seat, you stand next to his exhausted state, where his body continues to hang like a wet dog. “Will it be easy? No, probably not. But the best things take work. It makes it worth it all at the very end. You’ll see, Charles.”

“How is it that you have so much hope in me?” he whispered meekly, face slightly pale.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you raise your shoulders high. “Because I’m a firm believer that you will accomplish yours and your father’s dream. And I know what you’re feeling, I’ve been on that same boat before, I’m quite familiar.” I sort of still am, you conscious barks back.

For a moment, he lays still, green eyes taking you in, low breaths. Everything about this situation made you feel like a kettle, ready to cry out. There was something so intimate and raw with the way he was looking at you. As if you hung the stars up for him. You’ve never been one to stick around, so it came as no surprise to tear your gaze away, wobbly feet stepping back. “Just don’t-”

His hands are slightly slippery from his palms sweating. His chest is freakishly warm from his blood pumping. And his cock was most definitely hard.

Shifting on top of his lap, you giggle nervously as you try to avoid the lust in his eyes. And the heat in the pit of your stomach. “No, we said…” You furrow your brows. “This is wei-”

“No, you said that. I only played along.”

Inhaling sharply, you shake your head, hair practically whipping his face as he smiles gingerly. “You said the kiss was weird! I said the kiss was weird - we agreed.”

It’s his turn to narrow his eyes at you, large hands gripping your waist, keeping you from running away. “The situation was weird, but I’ve never felt a pair of lips feel so right against mine.” Long fingers trace your bare thigh. “I know you feel it too.”

“Your boner, yes, how could I not?” you hiss, face burning crimson red. “You’re going to ruin it-”

“No I won’t.”

“You’re going to regret it-”

His gaze darkens. “The only thing I’ve regretted so far is not telling you how I feel about you and not having kissed you the way I wanted to.” Green eyes soften up, almost pleading you. “Fuck. I need to - you don’t get it, I need to kiss you, amore. I swear to God if you say no, I might lose my mind.”

Your head begins to spin as you balance your hands on his broad shoulder. Behind your better judgment, you know you shouldn’t. This would only make things worse because you know the moment you lock lips with him and he finds out what you’ve done, how long you’ve lied, he’ll be so disgusted by you completely.

But like always, you push that all aside.

You basically pounce on him as you smash your lips to his. It was hot, it was heavy, you could feel his teeth clash with yours, his tongue sliding inside your warm mouth. He grunts deeply, pushing your hips down on him as you gasp. Arousal drips past your silky legs, already forming a wet patch against his denim jeans. Charles groans loudly at the feeling. Whimpering, you tangle a clumsy hand through his messy hair.

“You’re telling me this is ‘weird’ to you?” he teases against your pouty lips, pants entering your mouth as you whine like a kid at the dentist.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You won’t be saying that in a few minutes.”

Swiftly, he stands up, setting you down on his chair. You’re confused with his actions as you desperately try reaching out for him. He lets out a dark chuckle. Then, he’s kneeling down in front of you, bringing the chair closer to him. Oh God. The sound of the wooden chair squeaking is enough for you to snap out of it and blink rapidly, as if this were all a dream. He grins wickedly.

A beautiful fucking dream.

Shivering at the feeling of his calloused digits, you bring your brows together. He plays with the hem of your dress for a few seconds before sliding it up, cock growing harder at the sight of your red panties. “These dresses have been driving me crazy from the moment I met you.” He presses a sloppy kiss against your clothed center. “So pretty…”

“Charles…”

He cuts you off the moment he slides the thin material to the side, tip of his fingers rubbing your wet lips. Moaning, you instinctively drape your legs over his massive shoulders. With your entire strength, you try bringing his face closer to where you need him. He lets out a loud laugh.

“You really think you can push me down onto you?” He signals like a know-it-all. “Neck strength, baby, neck strength.”

“I don’t care if you’re a racing driver and that’s your entire exercise agenda, do something.”

That’s the only green flag he needs to dive in, sliding his tongue like an animal. Arching your back against the chair, one hand finds a home in his brown lock and the other grips around the armrest. Dizzy with his fast movements, you squeal when he sucks hard against your clit.

“You’re crazy,” you manage to pant before clenching around his digits that have now entered the equation. And he just curls them so deliciously inside on you that you begin to worry you might finish against his handsome face.

Pulling away, he looks up at you through dark lashes, a sly expression evident. “And you’re irresistible, perfect…” He growls when your hole tightens around his fingers, how your juices pour out. He can’t help but lick you clean, sighing against your thigh. “Simply perfect.”

It’s a haze and you barely have room to breathe, much less give him a fair warning, because suddenly your white nectar takes over and hits him all at once. You’re moaning loudly, he’s groaning as he slurps needily. It was just all too much.

And you didn’t deserve any of it.

Your chest rises up and down as you struggle to breath regularly again. It helps when he traces shapes around your legs, hot breaths of his own hugging your humid skin. His eyes take in your state as he looks up at you with complete defeat.

“How am I supposed to stay away from you, ange?”

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deadlymistletoe · 11 months

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A Marriage Overridden

Pairing: Thranduil x f!reader

Genre: Angst/romance

Description: Keeping your relationship with Thranduil a secret backfires when your parents arrange a marriage for you. Thankfully, all arranged marriages have to go through the elvenking himself.

Warnings: None? Reader doesn't have the best parents, but nothing physical or too bad overall.

Word count: 1745

The only sound was that of the basket you had been holding clattering to the ground, flowers so lovingly picked spilling out.

You stared between your parents, your eyes pleading with them to announce that this was nothing more than a joke made in bad taste.

They didn’t.

“No. No! You can’t!” You choked out. This couldn’t be happening. You had to have heard wrong… but no, your mother shook her head, a small smile on her face.

“Y/N, this is a good thing. We only want what’s best for you, and nothing can get better than this.” She ignored you as you shook your head, in denial. “Callon is a well respected soldier in the king’s guard, and his parents have agreed that the two of you would make a fine match. You would be respected, and treated well, what more could you want?”

Thranduil. The name was on the tip of your tongue, but you held it back, whether from the shock or the practice of keeping your involvement with the king a secret you weren’t sure.

When you’d first gotten involved with Thranduil, the secrecy had been necessary - it was a new relationship, he was the king - well above your own social status - and neither of you wanted the opinions of the kingdom to influence your relationship. Whether it worked out or not, at least then it could happen naturally without being scrutinized.

As your relationship developed into something more serious, neither of you suggested letting the secrecy stop - this was something that was yours, it belonged to the two of you, and neither of you wanted to burst the little bubble the two of you were in.

Besides - there was just something exciting about that idea of sneaking around, forbidden fruit, so to speak (you still remembered the way your heart had rapidly beat against your chest when the two of you had been abruptly interrupted and you’d had to hide in the large closet of silks while Galion spoke to the king about a delivery of wine of all things.)

You were happy. You were, dare you say it, in love.

And now, when faced with the question of what you could want more than what your parents were offering, an image of the pale-haired ellon surfaced in your mind.

You took a deep breath, looking at your parents. “I can’t marry Callon. Please don’t ask me why, I just can’t.”

Your father frowned. “This could be your only chance. If you can’t give us a proper reason..”

He trailed off and you stuttered, scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t reveal the secret you kept so close to your heart. “I don’t love him!”

Your mother laughed lightly. “Oh, my dear Y/N. If that’s all then there’s nothing to be worried about. Your father and I weren’t in love either, but we came to love each other over time. I’m sure it would be the same for you.” She lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “Besides, I’ve heard Callon is very fond of you.”

You scoffed. “I’ve spoken to him once, to ask him to move out of a doorway! How can he be fond of me? He doesn’t even know me!”

Your mother stopped smiling. “That’s enough. This is going ahead whether you like it or not. We can’t let an opportunity like this slide past.”

You felt betrayed as you looked at your parents who had raised you, loved you. “That’s all this is to you? An opportunity? You care more about gaining status than what I want?”

Your father shook his head. “We’re doing this for you. You’ll thank us later. Now make yourself presentable. We’ve scheduled an audience with King Thranuil in order to make the arrangement official.”

After you’d locked yourself in your bedroom you leant back against the door. The ‘audience’ with the king was in less than an hour. Your parents had given you no warning so you wouldn’t have time to try to find a way around the arrangement.

You didn’t even have time to find Thranduil and warn him. Oh, no. Sure, the king had the option to decline the arrangement with good reason, but what reason was good enough? Would he risk the aftermath of revealing his relationship with you just for this? What if he thought you wanted this? Asked for it even, and decided not to tell him?

This couldn’t be happening.

But it was. And now you were seated stiffly beside Callon, avoiding Thranduil’s gaze from where he sat across from you on the other side of his desk.

You and Callon’s parents sat on either side of the two of you, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room.

It didn’t take Thranduil long to read the document that needed only his signature to be valid.

His eyes moved questionly to you when he finished, and you wondered if you imagined the brief look of confusion and hurt before his expression cleared.

Maybe it was a testament to just how strong your relationship had become, but in the brief moment your eyes locked, you could almost hear him asking you, ‘Is this what you want?’ and you replied with a very slight shake of your head, your eyes clearly sending him your answer. ‘No.’

He didn’t reply, instead turning his attention to the elves who had arranged the marriage and leaned back in his seat with a sigh, “I’m afraid I shall have to override this marriage.”

You let out a silent sigh of relief, wondering just how he was going to justify his decision. After all, it was almost unheard of for the king to interfere with this sort of thing, simply signing off on it without a second thought.

Callon frowned beside you, but you didn’t pay him any mind, instead watching as confusion and slight frustration passed over the faces of the others in the room.

“What?” Your mother stumbled over her words, "Why?” Your father nudged her and she quickly tacked on the words, “Your majesty.”

Thranduil looked almost amused as he answered. “Your daughter is already betrothed. She can hardly be betrothed to two ellon’s at the same time, can she?”

The looks that crossed the faces of your parents would have been comical had it been any other situation.

Callon’s parents looked at yours in confusion and annoyance, clearly wondering why your parents had agreed to such an arrangement if their daughter was already romantically attached to someone.

Then you did a double take as his words registered.

What?

“To who?”

You narrowed your eyes. Yes, you thought, to whom am I betrothed without knowing it?

He met your eyes with his. “To me.”

Oh. Oh! You felt your heart flutter in your chest, your cheeks heating up before you were knocked back to reality at the reactions of the others in the room.

Shock covered the faces of the other elves in the room, and as you timidly watched the emotions cross your parent’s faces, Callon’s mother spoke up. “It seems that none of us were aware of this development, otherwise we never would have suggested…”

Your mother turned to look at you. “Why didn’t you tell us?” She asked, and you couldn’t tell if she was more angry or hurt that you hadn’t told her.

You searched fruitlessly for an answer, vaguely hearing Callon’s parents leave the room after excusing themselves, when Thranduil’s low voice cut in, answering for you. “I asked her not to. Clearly, I was wrong in doing so, but do not punish your daughter for my misjudgement.”

Your parents stared at Thranduil - who had come around to your side of the desk - for a moment before quickly assuring him that they didn’t blame him, nor would they take it out on you.

Your mother paused on the way out, looking at you. “Are you happy?”

You glanced at Thranduil, watching you carefully before looking back at your mother. “Yes.”

She nodded, glancing between you and Thranduil. “We’ll speak to you later.”

As they left, movement suddenly reminded you that Callon was still here as he stood up, glancing nervously at his king.

Thranduil tilted his head towards the elf. “I do not blame you for the mistakes of others. Go in peace.”

Callon nodded, relieved, and headed for the door but hesitated, looking back at you before leaving. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad our parents weren’t able to go through with it, for my heart too is already taken.”

You gave him a smile as he left, suddenly feeling much more sympathetic towards the ellon.

You turned back to Thranduil, suddenly feeling nervous. What if he only said what he did to override the arrangement? What if he didn’t actually wish to marry you? What would happen now the secret was out?

He didn’t give you much any more time to worry. As soon as you’d turned around his lips landed on yours and you felt yourself relaxing against him. This had to be a good sign, right?

Thranduil pulled back, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he looked at you, voice a mere murmur as he spoke. “I apologize if I was out of line, but I couldn’t think of anything else. Of course, if you don’t wish to marry me you are under no obligation-”

“What?” You cut him off, wondering if you were hearing right.

He frowned before beginning to repeat himself, but you interrupted again. “No, I mean, you weren’t just saying it? You mean if I did wish to marry you…you’d be okay with it?”

He shook his head, a bemused expression on his face. “Of course I’d be okay with it. I just didn’t want to assume…getting married would mean telling people about our relationship and I wasn’t sure you’d want that.”

A smile came across your lips. “You should have said something earlier.”

He hummed. “I suppose if I had then we wouldn’t have ended up in a situation like today.”

You giggled before becoming serious again. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. It was too late by the time my parents told me.”

His breath brushed against your ear as he leant closer, pulling you against me. “It’s not your fault,” you felt him smirk against your skin, “but should you wish to make it up to me regardless…”

“Of course.” You breathed as he connected your lips once more.

Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee

#imagines #the hobbit #female reader #thranduil #the hobbit x reader #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x you #my writing

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Clandestine Meetings

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Prompts / Request

“Go and lock the door for me. I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.”

“Go get one of your toys. Let’s make this even better.”

“Is that gonna fit?” “I’ll make it fit.”

Warnings: Jealousy, Emotionally Stunted Natasha

Smut: Natasha has a penis, Daddy(N), Detka/Whore(R), Nipple Clamps, Vibrating Egg, Oral(R), Unprotected Sex/Breeding, Choking, Edging/Teasing, Orgasm Denial.

18+ | Minors DNI

"I want love Nat, you just want a quick fuck."

The words you whispered to her over a month ago have been bouncing around her mind the entire time, plaguing her very soul. It got to the point where while away on her mission she couldn't even focus on the objective anymore.

Who were you to just come to a conclusion like that without so much as a conversation?

——

Not a, "Nat, we need to talk," or a "I'm not sure we want the same things Nat, correct me if I'm wrong here," and she would've corrected you. Because you were so far off base, all Natasha wanted was to love you, she just didn't know how to do that outside of worshipping you in deeply passionate moments that usually ended just as fast as they began, and left you alone.

Now here you lay on the compounds couch in your sleep shorts, a sight the redhead would love to see every morning in her own room. Waking up beside you would be a dream new experience, potentially challenging, but she knows that she'd grow to love the situation.

Natasha already loved you—desperately so.

The only obstacle here had been her inability to make her loving intentions clear to you. She'd always been a bit more on the vulgar side, and you seemed into it for awhile, but one random night you shoved her away and that was just it.

As soon as she figured herself out, she was going to make things right with you. But there was apparently a new obstacle, because right now your head was settled into another's lap. Carol was listening to you ramble on while mindlessly stroking your cheek. Natasha envied the blonde's ability to offer such an intimate moment without any real effort.

When she saw how much the woman enjoyed your presence she felt her heart shattering into tiny, jagged pieces. With her jaw clenched she rushed out of the kitchen and went straight to her room where she allowed a stray tear to fall. Then she reached for her phone, and sent you a text message: Meet me in my room in 5 !

Carol smiled down at you knowingly when she heard the ding of your phone, "I told you to go after her Y/N, she didn't seem very pleased."

"Yeah, and I don't give a fuck," you huffed, arms crossing over your chest, and the blonde cackled wildly at the sign of faux indifference before she returned to a more serious state.

"Y/N, ever since she's been gone all you've done is mope around this place, but oh look, the day she's back you suddenly appear before me with a sunny disposition and expect me not to see right through it? Answer her text and maybe even go get laid, you're insufferable."

"Carol," you groaned, hands flying to your face to hide the mortification in your eyes at the brutal call out, "She doesn't want me," you pouted, "at least not in the way I want her to."

"Did she say that?" Carol asks while lazily drawing circles on your shoulder to calm you.

"She didn't have to say it out loud..."

"Oh Y/N," she tilted your head so you would be facing her, she caressed your cheek then spoke, "Natasha isn't exactly known for expressing her feelings in ways that make sense, so how about you put your big girl pants on, and force her to say the words she couldn't manage to before."

You huffed while glaring up at her, knowing she was right, but in the same breath you snatched your phone up, and read the message while rolling your eyes, a bitter chuckle leaving you as you saw the song that happened to have been softly playing at the time of arrival.

After a moment of soul searching you took off to her bedroom in a frenzied ball of nerves. Entering her space felt both comfortingly familiar, and extremely uneasy. Seeing her sat on the bed in sweats with her legs manspread, leaning back on her exposed muscular arms as she wore a cami without a bra you felt your body tingle with need, and your mouth go dry.

With a sly smirk, and a crook of her finger you made your way further into the room, but she left you to be blanketed in an awkward silence. It was clear she didn't actually expect you to be here, and now that you were she was weighing out her options, but just like usual, she was not able to articulate the right words like: I missed you, I love you, or please, don't leave again...

"Go and lock the door for me. I don't want anyone to walk in while I'm balls deep," the redhead commanded dryly, and though the thought of her inside you alone nearly brought you to your knees, you rolled your eyes instead and went to hurriedly walk away again.

Natasha ran after you, catching you by the wrist to prevent you from leaving, "Y/N, stop doing this okay," she pinched the bridge of her nose, and softly sighed, "I don't know how to do all of this, vulnerability isn't my strong suit, okay? Just let me show you instead..."

You furrowed your brows, and she sighed exasperatedly, "Give me a chance, please."

Saying no to her would be in vain, because it was all you wanted to finally be beneath her, so you nodded without really much hesitation.

Natasha leaned in to kiss you, the first time in your whole arrangement that she'd done it with any semblance of care present. Normally it's all teeth clashing, and tongues sloppily gliding over the other while she brought you to bliss.

Up until now Natasha has only ever offered you quick moments, with only her hands or mouth diligently bringing you over that glorious edge. Never had she actually shown you tenderness, but more importantly, she had yet to fuck you with the bulge poking you through her pants.

Natasha wasn't ready to give you all of her, it was actually something she'd never done with another person that she loved before. She's screwed girls before, usually as a means to an end, with their faces smushed into a mattress, but she couldn't bring herself to do it with you. No matter how desperate she was for release after hearing and seeing you come undone for her, or how prettily you'd beg to help her out each time, she just couldn't cross that line.

But now, she knew it was all she could do to make sure you understand, that you feel her in every sense possible, and feel her love for you.

"Na-Natasha," breathlessly you stuttered out her name as your hips reflexively canted into hers, "I need you daddy, please, fill me up."

Natasha groaned, pulling away from your lips she smirked devilishly, you could see the flicker of mischief in her gaze as she leaned down to suck a mark onto your smooth skin, "Go get one of your toys. Let's make this even better."

The knob twisted in her hands this time, she watched in amusement as you scurried across the hall to your room in your mussed up state.

"Look at how desperate you already are detka," she slammed you back into the door as soon as you crossed the threshold, the door slammed close with the impact and you moaned weakly.

Surveying the items in your hands she softly chuckled, "Oh, you're in for it now Y/N, gonna give you all of me so you can finally understand what my true intentions with you are."

This time when she kissed you it was with a bit of urgency, her hands contrastingly gripped your hips softly, and without ever breaking the kiss she walked your body over to the mattress. Natasha lowered you down gently, and as she rose back up she collected the nipple clamps and the vibrating bullet from your hands.

"May I?" Natasha gestured to your body, and you smiled gratefully, no matter how quickly she usually took you, she'd always been keen on hearing consent. "Please, do it already."

The sleep clothes were quickly discarded, and her lips latched onto your risen buds instantly. Her tongue rolled around your nipple slowly, causing your breath to shallow as you were overrun with pleasurable anticipation. After a moment she released your nipple with a pop, giving you only seconds to adjust to the chill on your wetted skin before she attached a clamp.

Natasha caught your hand before it could mindlessly tug the clamp off, "It's okay detka," she shushed you softly, tenderly smiling down at you as she slid her fingers between yours, "You're okay," she gently brushed her lips over your knuckles before laying your interlocked hands on top of the mattress. A whimper left you as you were overrun with a overdue sense of comfort from her, then you were moaning when her lips returned to your heated skin.

"I'm going to ruin you Y/N," she growled around your other nipple before she bit into the hypersensitive skin, "No one will ever touch you again after I leave a mark on what's mine."

"Say it," she growled as she hovered over you, but before you could even try she was clamping your sore bud, effectively making you wince.

"Oh shit," you gasped when she gave the chain a harsh tugging to ensure it was properly attached, the accompanying pain was dizzying.

"I asked you to say something," she leered over you, hand now wrapped around your throat in a way that not only intimidated you but left you absolutely dripping onto her expensive sheets.

Natasha watched your brainless eyes searching for a response, it took you a minute, but you were finally about to open your mouth, but all that came out was a lewd moan as she pressed the vibrating egg into your slicked up cunt.

"Come on now detka, you know I don't like to be made to wait," she tightened her hand around your throat, something that only ever adds to your pleasure, and she knew that, it was honestly her favorite, slowly draining the life from you as she brought your body to euphoria, only to spare you in the last second.

She was a bit of a sadist. You didn't mind...

Something about that control was exhilarating, seeing your eyes grow hazier with every second as you harshly choked never failed to make her cock twitch. Maybe it was the underlying way in which you trusted her to never go too far, it had her overwhelmed with unwavering joy.

After allowing you a moment of pure bliss she deemed it enough, so she tore it away from you, ripping the vibe out of you and watching in amusement as your eyes filled with tears, and your lip was now caught between your teeth, "Daddy no, please, I-I was so close."

Your whimpering always affected her greatly, she gets off to the memory of you begging all the time, so it's no surprise to her that her cock was painfully straining against her boxers.

"Whores that forgot how to speak don't get to cum!" Natasha spat, the underlying tone full of pain telling you she meant more than in this moment, your constant distancing hurt her.

"Natty," you tried to apologize, but she only grew angrier, her hand harshly gripped your face, and she hovered over you with a furious gaze, you hated to admit it but it sent a pang of arousal down to your already dripping cunt, "That's not my fucking name slut, try again."

"Daddy," you whimpered, and she softened momentarily as she leaned in to kiss your lips, "Better, but I no longer want to hear you, so lets shut that pretty brain of yours off," she pecked your lips once more before her lips trailed down your body in quick succession.

The sound of buzzing as she now faced your cunt left you with widened eyes, this new dynamic was throwing you off honestly. So used to a quick release this newfound joy of hers spurring from teasing you was alarming. You began to wonder if the loveless sex was better, but deep down you knew it wasn't, especially when she edged you so deliciously.

Natasha held the vibe just out of reach of your clit, a test of sorts that she wanted you to fail. "Daddy's gonna get a taste now detka," she murmured against the lush skin of your thighs as she moved to further mark her territory.

After minutes of torture, where she barely swiveled the egg over your bundle of nerves you finally caved and canted your hips up. Natasha bit harshly into your thigh, blaming you for moving as she moved to hover over your face, "There's a time and a place for your pleasure, and this isn't it, now stay still Y/N!"

"Sorry daddy," you sniffled wetly, drawing her back out of her lust driven haze, and the sight of you so broken was honestly picturesque, it brought a lopsided smirk to her plump lips.

Natasha usually moved only to please you, but in this moment, she wanted you desperate. So needy, hopelessly dependent upon her touch, this way you'll never look for anyone else again. Looking into your eyes now she saw that was already your truth, you were so lost in the pleasure that she was hardly giving, "It's okay detka, you know daddy will take care of you."

Natasha kissed you until you were breathless, then when you were reduced to a heaving mess she returned to your thighs, she placed a few soft kisses there before finally diving into you.

With the vibrator pressed firmly into your clit, and her tongue deep inside you it was all you could do to make a mess of her face, a scream of pleasure echoed off her walls, and Natasha pulled back with an accomplished smile. The sight of her as your slick was dripping down her chin made your body shiver, that unraveled coil started to retighten, and your hazy eyes slammed shut as you tried to calm down.

Natasha teasingly rutted her hips into yours, you could feel her straining against her boxers when she stilled, and you couldn't help but to squirm when she made no move to fuck you.

Natasha chuckled as she felt your desperation, she softly continued to push her sizable bulge down against your slit, the irritating fabric separating your sexes actually brought you a slice of pleasure when it grazed over your clit. It would never be enough though, your hips began to jerk up to meet hers, desperation fueling you, and Natasha could feel it wholly.

She truly loved teasing you, feeling the way your aromatic slick soaked through her boxers, it only became too much for her once you were whining pitifully in her ear, making her twitch without reprieve, so without much warning she jumped up, leaving you to cry at the loss of friction, but the protests died on your tongue when you saw her dick spring free, it was huge.

"Is that gonna fit?" you visibly gulped, wide eyes watching as the tip of her cock hit her abdomen as she slowly sauntered over to you with an obnoxiously hot smirk overtaking her face as she hovered over you, "I'll make it fit."

Her lips pressed to yours, instinctually yours parted, Natasha's tongue slid into your mouth as her tip pushed passed your entrance, and you latched onto her tongue as you moaned. A shiver ran down the redheads spine when your walls simultaneously squeezed her thick shaft making it near impossible for her to fill you up.

The way that your warmth enveloped her cock made her fearful that she'd bust without even thrusting as she bottomed out, "Fuck, you feel so good Y/N, you're taking me so well detka."

Her hand sought yours out for grounding, and when you felt her interlock her fingers with yours again your eyes fluttered open to see her deepened green pair staring back into yours. The eye contact was intense, and arousing, but incredibly hard to keep when you felt her begin to thrust slowly, and relatively deeply into you.

"Keep em open," Natasha panted, your eyes slowly fluttered back open, fighting against the insurmountable pleasure, "Wanna see you."

It was a struggle, but you somehow managed to keep your eyes partially open for the ferocious women pounding into you with strong hips. The brutal pace she set was building you up quick, you never knew how much you needed her until now, she felt too good, the way she stretched you out left you gasping, and with every thrust her bulbous tip drove you wild.

With her hand in yours, and eyes locked you were overwhelmed by a love you were truly convinced didn't exist. The one that pulsed inside you the closer she got to her release, the love she needed verbally reciprocated to finish, "Say it detka," Natasha whispered breathlessly just as she twitched inside of you, "Please..."

"I'm yours Nat," you dopily confirmed with an amused tone, the moment was however short lived as a scream was torn from your throat, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as she let go inside of you, hot spurts of white filled your womb to the brim, and your body trembled without reprieve. "I-I need you Y/N, please don't leave me again, I'll do better..."

"Nat," you managed to squeak out her name in between your pants, "If you don't run, I won't."

"I'll never run again detka," she pressed her lips to your cheek, then trailed them down until she was resting in the crook of your neck, "I promise, we'll learn how to love together."

"Oh, I know how to love," you teased with a deliberate clenching of your walls, "Shit Y/N."

You flipped your positions before she could even recover, harshly grinding down against her as you did, did the trick when you could feel the way her cock hardened once more.

"It's my turn to show you," you winked, and the redhead smirked, a long drawn out sigh leaving her lips as you began to grind down into her.

———

3,075 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 😏

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff pov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg #black widow #black widow smut

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adamstnheights · 1 year

Text

I just want you to like me - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: You’re a bartender at the Hard Deck while completing grad school, which is how you met Jake Seresin. You and Jake began a “friends with benefits” type deal, using Jake’s aviation obligations and your education as reasoning why things couldn’t get too serious. Over the months, you have started to harbor deeper feelings towards him, afraid to speak up about it and potentially ruin everything you have with him. But when Jake returns from a two-month mission, your feelings for him reach a turning point in a moment of self-consciousness.

A/N: I’ve been slowly working on this fic for months ever since I got into Top Gun and TGM! I kept adding things and trying to edit and I finally felt ready to post! <3

Content: Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Self-Esteem Issues, Past of Bad Relationships, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Confessions, Jake doesn’t know how to deal with feelings, Consent, Smut, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Dying, Fear of Rejection, Reassurance, Bestie Phoenix and Bestie Penny, Wearing Jake’s Helmet, Military Inaccuracies

18+ content, MINORS DNI!!!!

Word Count: 14.6k

“Oh, shit, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you cover your face with your hands and duck behind the bar. Penny looks down at you as you cower next to a stack of haphazard boxes, laughing. She looks out over the crowd of people, her eyes catching the group of aviators who just arrived at the Hard Deck.

“Oh, come on, get your ass back up here!” Penny laughs, yanking at your shirt sleeve. “Are you seriously hiding from Hangman?” She sings his call sign in a teasing, singsong-y tone which makes you blush.

“I’m not hiding, I’m just… strategically placing myself so that he doesn’t see me!” You whisper urgently.

“You’re ridiculous! I’m not paying you to hide down there and repress your deep feelings for a Navy pilot,” she says and you sigh, leaning against your thighs to stand back up. You try to act naturally, like you were just picking something up off of the ground.

“I don’t have deep feelings for him,” you mutter in denial as Penny shakes her head, smirking.

You met Hangman six months ago when he first arrived at the Top Gun base for training. He’d caught your eye the very first time he stepped foot into the bar with the rest of the pilots, but you had tried to keep your distance. When you began grad school two years ago, you’d graciously taken a job at the Hard Deck and Penny quickly took you under her wing. After all this time working at the bar, you knew that these pilots came and went and certain types—Hangman’s type—were probably not the kind of pilot you would want to get involved with. But of course, Hangman must have sensed your trying not to get involved and did everything in his power to get involved.

Every time the Top Gun pilots would pile into the Hard Deck for a night of drinking, Hangman was instantly leaning against the bar and calling for you. Normally, you get annoyed to no end at patrons calling at you, as if you were merely their servant to get them drinks. But the way he called your name was sweet, and sometimes he even added a darlin’ afterwards, only making you blush more. He never just called you over to demand drinks; he would wait until you walked over to him and he would lean forward—eyes twinkling, cocky smile—and say your name again so you could say back: Hangman. And from there, a night of across-the-bar looks and some cocky, not-so-subtle flirting would ensue.

It didn’t take long for Penny to notice your flirting and the rest of Hangman’s squadmates did the same. Over time, you became close friends with some of the other pilots, especially Phoenix. She instantly picked up on the way that you looked at Hangman, and soon, it felt as if everyone in the bar were urging the two of you to get together. Despite the cheering from Hangman’s friends when one night you finally allowed him to take you out after your shift ended, he made sure to take your hand when you were out of everyone else’s earshot: I don’t mean to force you to do this. Things with the crew kinda got out of hand and I’m sorry if you felt pressured by me asking you in front of everyone else— But you had cut him off by cupping his jaw, leaning up, and kissing him sweetly on the cheek. For once, you had made Hangman go silent in awe.

The two of you had fun. It was pretty much a friends with benefits deal; you knew before it even started that Hangman wasn’t the type to settle down or even commit, for that matter. But it was still more than any other fuck buddy situation you’ve ever been in. You’d spend hours in bed together, talking, laughing, and watching movies. Some nights your phone would ring and it would be Hangman telling you Let’s do something. And then the two of you would be driving down to the beach at sunset and walking along the shoreline and laughing and running back to your place and falling into bed.

You never could tell where exactly the two of you stood. Friends with benefits? More? The month before the two of you got together, you’d always see Hangman whisk some other woman away at the end of the night. His whole being was the definition of man-whore, and he couldn’t help but flirt around at the bar, especially when he was drunk and singing with the rest of his friends. Since you started spending a lot of time with him, you couldn’t recall any time he would go out of his way to flirt with anyone else or take anyone else home. But even so, you never really knew what to think.

And then he was called away. Well, not just him, of course. Some kind of a mission was in motion and Lieutenant Jake Seresin was called to be on the team. They would be gone for two months and you doubted that he would be able to stay in contact very much. Before he left, he didn’t bring up anything about what the “plan” was for the two of you and his silence about it only made you more scared to bring it up yourself. You’d gotten him all to yourself the night before he left and you didn’t want to ruin it by bringing up the worst question of all time: What are we?

He sent you the occasional text while he was away. You knew he was busy; obviously he had much more important things to focus on than you. But still, you couldn’t push down the pang in your heart when you laid in bed alone at night, wondering if there was any chance Jake was thinking about you. Two months felt like an eternity and you didn’t know if he would even want to talk to you when he returned.

So when Penny heard through the grapevine that the boys should be home in a few days, you completely shut down in self defense. You pushed down any rising hope you had that Hangman would walk through the doors and run towards you with his arms open wide. The plan would be to act as normal and casual as possible and not make it known that you were totally, utterly falling for Jake Seresin.

However, knowing that he’s right here in the room with you now, your hands begin to sweat and all of the confidence you had to not let Hangman distract you goes out the window immediately. You look at Penny and sigh as the booming voices of the newly returned pilots become louder. It was silly of you to have assumed the pilots would not be piling into the bar the second they got back to base. Rooster and Phoenix make a beeline to the piano and soon enough, the bar is filled with singing. You watch Hangman join in out of the corner of your eye, trying to busy yourself by rearranging the glasses behind the bar. Rooster plays a song and you watch as Hangman belts out the words, throwing his head back and slinging his arm around Coyote as everyone sings.

When the song is over, Hangman scans the room over but stops completely when he sees you. It feels as though the wind has been knocked out of him, seeing you after two months of being away. His heart swells as he makes his way over to you, clearing his throat and running his hand through his hair quickly.

You can tell Jake is moving towards you and you tense up, thoughts all jumbled, and now you have no idea what you’re supposed to say to him anymore. He leans against the bar, as always, and you look up at him slowly, casually, but the moment you meet his eyes you feel as though your heart is exploding. You curse Hangman and his stupid, stupid effect on you. Maybe you don’t notice, but Jake’s breath catches in his throat when he looks at you, but he pulls himself together quickly and leans even closer, his signature smirk spreading across his face. He says your name, like always.

“Hangman.” You reply, focusing way too hard on your voice not cracking.

Jake looks at you, his expression softening as the sight of you makes his heart soar. He suddenly feels a rare surge of insecurity; usually you’ll beam at him and play into his shameless flirting but instead you look shy, pulled back. Was something wrong? Before he met you, he could easily charm a woman into bed by the end of the night and if she happened to reject him, he was never bothered by it. He would shake it off and try again the next night. But with you, he could actually lose you. This terrifies him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up, and the slight change in your demeanor since the last time he saw you is beginning to freak him out. He tries to tread lightly.

“I missed seeing your pretty face, sweetheart,” he drops his voice low and looks deep into your eyes.

Your heart leaps but you try to play it cool. You raise your eyebrow and smirk, “Oh, did you now?” You can easily keep up with a night of flirting. It’s when the conversation lulls and you catch yourself staring and imagining your whole future with Jake that it becomes scary. The way Jake is leaned forward on the bar, he has to tip his head slightly upwards to look at you. He looks pretty gazing up at you through his eyelashes. He not-so-subtly lets his eyes dart down to your lips and you curse yourself as your cheeks grow red.

“Do you close tonight?” He asks.

“I do.” You want to throw yourself into Jake’s arms but you need to hold him at a distance. For now, at least. You’re not used to having him back in your life again. For the past 6 weeks with only the occasional good morning or good night text, your heart slowly broke as you had to adapt to the absence of him. You know it isn’t his fault, but you can’t help but feel guarded from simply opening your arms right back up again.

“Can I… Could I see you? After you close?” He looks down for a brief second, licking his lips nervously. You bite your bottom lip. Jake has always been sweet and respectful about asking. He would make demands jokingly and flirtingly, but you knew that he would not want to make you do anything you didn’t want to do. You can see that Jake really wants to see you, but he’s still asking. If you say no, you know he will respect it.

“Y-Yeah. If you hang back after, I’ll finish up closing and we can…” you trail off, not sure what you want to say exactly. You want to kiss him again, to feel the rush of tingles that his touch sends through your body, but you’re scared. “...We can take a walk on the beach.”

Jake breaks into a relieved smile, reaching his hand out to rest on top of yours. His touch is warm and you know how easily you can get drunk from it. “I’d like that,” Jake says. There’s a sparkle in his eye that you aren’t immune to so before you can stop yourself, you’re slowly reaching forward and pushing back a strand of hair that fell over his face. You take your time and your fingers linger in his hair. Quickly though, you pull yourself away and begin to make Jake’s regular drink, giving yourself a chance to catch your breath.

When you hand Jake his drink, he thanks you and goes to say something else, probably something cocky to ease the tension. But to your relief, Payback and Coyote call for him to go over and take shots with them. Jake gets up and goes to leave, but not before flashing you a sickeningly charming smile. You laugh and shake your head as he runs to the other side of the bar, his drink sloshing around in his hand.

The rest of the night treks on as usual. You and Penny watch as the pilots gradually become louder and wilder, celebrating that they all returned safely. Penny knows that every time you look over at the group, your eyes are only on Jake. As midnight approaches, most of the other patrons have left and the wildness that had encompassed the bar a mere hour ago has settled down. Most of the pilots, including Hangman, are playing probably their third rotation of pool. You try to ignore the way you grow hot watching Jake lean forward against the table, pool stick in hand, a look of utmost focus on his face.

“So what exactly is your deal?” Penny leans her elbows on the bar in front of you, blocking your line of sight to Jake and jolting you out of a fantasy.

“I— what?” You laugh out of embarrassment even though you already know Penny knows exactly what is up with you. “With me?”

“Yeah. You and Hangman. You’ve been staring at him all night, why not go over and say something? Anything? You haven’t seen him in two months!”

“Well— I’m working right now! For you! And I’m closing tonight. But for your information, I told him I would see him after I’m done closing, so don’t worry your pretty little head,” you smile, genuinely touched that Penny is this invested in your and Hangman’s story.

“Look, I know I was wary about him at the very beginning, but I can tell… He really likes you. I just know it,” Penny tells you, “I don’t know if he knows what the fuck he’s doing, but I’ve never seen him act as head over heels as he does with you.”

“I’m just scared,” you admit, “I don’t want to assume anything and get hurt, you know? What we have now, it’s nice and I’m content. I just don’t know what exactly he’s thinking about me. I don’t want to bring it up and… have it ruin everything.”

“Okay, so he hasn’t come right out and said it yet, but I think you’d be a damn fool to not notice the way he looks at you,” she smiles.

Of course you notice the way he looks at you, the way he bounds over to you when he notices you’re in the room, the way he so naturally puts his arm around you and holds you close. Still, your brain can’t help but convince you that he’s only giving you all of his attention out of convenience. After past relationships of always giving more than what you received, you can’t bring yourself to be vulnerable first. You don’t want to be hurt again. You know it’s your own insecurities, but you can’t allow yourself to give someone your all just to be let down and rejected; it’s humiliating.

Anxiety continues to rise in your chest. “I dunno…” you manage to say, “I guess we’ll see what happens later tonight.”

Penny shoots you a daring smile, despite you not meaning it in a suggestive way. She pats you on the back, “That’s what I’m talking about!” She continues cleaning behind the bar, getting ready to leave for the night. You’d be left to manage the bar for the last hour and a half before closing.

You live only a few blocks away from the bar in a cute, craftsman style house, so even at work, you’re never too far away from home. Everything in town is pretty close to each other. Most of the military-provided housing is only 5-10 more minutes away from you—a pleasant convenience you found out when you first started seeing Jake. If the two of you were spending time together late into the night at your place, he could easily gather up all of his stuff and get back to his place in a matter of minutes.

Spending the night at the other’s place, however, was actually a very rare occurrence; you always chalked it up to having classes the next day and Jake always chalked it up to having to be on base early the next morning. It never really bothered you, it just seemed like an unspoken boundary that the two of you established for whatever this is. There are only sometimes where you’re watching him get dressed in your room at midnight and you wish you had the guts to ask him Will you stay tonight?

Now, you’re wondering if you’re ready to have him come back to your place again. He’s in his usual tan uniform that flatters him to no end, but it’s when he’s all tangled up in your blankets with one of his crewneck sweaters that he keeps at your place on and his hair slightly messed up and falling over his eyes—that’s when you really feel yourself falling, hard.

Penny leaves and slowly the pilots begin to leave as well. Phoenix comes over and gives you a hug goodbye, promising that the two of you will catch up over lunch soon. She clicks her tongue and nods her head over to where Hangman is, talking with Rooster. You roll your eyes and she rolls her eyes back at you as if to say You’re so in love. You start to clean up, sweeping the floor behind the bar and gathering up the trash. You see Hangman and Rooster leave, making the bar empty except for yourself. You know Hangman will come back soon and your heart races thinking about him returning just for you. You wipe down all of the tables, restack all of the cups, and once everything inside is done, you lock up and go to take the trash bags out by the back.

The deck wraps around three-fourths of the bar and you exit to the side where the dumpsters are. The air is cool and comfortable. When you’re done with the trash, you linger a few moments leaning up against the deck railing, looking out along the beach. Your mind is going a mile a minute, excited about getting some alone time with Jake but also extremely nervous.

You feel like you can’t control yourself when you’re around him. Deep down, you know you’ll want to jump him the moment you see him, but after being away from him for so long your stomach twists at the thought of being that vulnerable again. Jake has never made you feel dirty or used, but memories of past partners and flings are stuck so deeply in your mind that you can’t help but feel insecure in sexual situations. The amount of times people have left you after getting you into bed, the fake caring about anything other than sex, the lack of respect under the guise of well we’re not even serious… it still haunts you. You don’t think this is the same, but how can you really know? There’s always a possibility of rejection, of them getting bored of you, not wanting to stay anymore. You’re not scared of getting naked and having sex with someone, you’re scared of the after—the room full of silence as you lay there and you’re cold and the kindness is gone and you feel used.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you answer it. “Hey, you.” You can’t help but smile, spinning around and looking for Jake.

“Didn’t want to startle you,” he says on the other line. You can see through the windows of the bar that he’s on the other side of the deck area. When your eyes meet, you can see that he’s grinning ear to ear.

“Get over here, cowboy,” you smile, making a come here motion with your finger that makes Jake go crazy.

“Is that an order?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, it is, Lieutenant.” You hang up and start to walk around the deck, a little skip in your step as you hear Jake running and then he rounds the corner and sees you and he calls your name. He runs, his arms reach out to you and you jump into them, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you up. You squeal as your feet are lifted off of the ground and you bury your head into his shoulder until he puts you back down. He looks at you with his sparkly green eyes and a grin.

You hold your hand out to him. “Shall we?”

He takes your hand and you walk down the steps of the deck and onto the beach. Neither of you say much, but you feel as Jake gives your hand small squeezes as you walk, and you rub your thumb over the back of his. Jake keeps glancing over at you and you catch him glancing and you both turn your heads away, smiling.

“Why so shy, darlin’?” Jake asks, swinging your arms as you walk. “Am I too handsome to look at for more than a few seconds?”

“Oh please, I’m embarrassed for you that you’d even suggest that,” you nudge Jake with your shoulder.

“You’re head over heels for me, you just don’t want to give me the satisfaction,” Jake teases, but his face falls slightly when you don’t nudge or pinch him back. You just keep looking forward and walking. You are head over heels for him, but you just don’t know how to go about saying it. If you say it, then you’re putting yourself in the position to be left, and that’s too scary.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Jake is having the same inner conflict. While on the mission, Phoenix had made a handful of pointed comments to him about how he needs to get off his ass and do something about his feelings for you. Jake had been too stunned to even ask how she knew about his feelings for you. If he had asked, she would’ve laughed in his face—it was so obvious. She had told him, You have her, Hangman. Don’t mess this up. Of course he doesn’t want to fuck things up with you—that terrifies him. He gets overwhelmed every time he sees you or even thinks about you. He’s never felt this way about anyone before. What on earth are you supposed to do with all of these feelings?

Both of you take your shoes off and dig your feet into the damp sand, facing out towards the dark, crashing waves. Then, you’re sitting down next to each other, looking up at the sky of stars. Your one hand is resting on your knees while the other is flat on the sand behind you, propping yourself up. You can feel Jake’s hand resting right next to yours and your fingers twitch as you lift one and touch it to his. Lifting your hand slowly, you rest it fully on top of his and he smiles at you. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re leaning your whole body into him and he wraps his arm around you as you rest your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of the waves.

You’re snapped out of your dream because you swear you hear Jake sniffle. Not wanting to alarm him, you slowly reposition your head on his shoulder and ask softly, “Are you okay?”

“I…” Jake falters. People in Jake’s life hardly check in with him or ask him what’s wrong. He doesn’t know how to respond. He especially doesn’t know how to respond to you. When you’re in front of him, he feels as though his breath is swept away and he’s left with a loss for words. “I don’t know. Can’t really… explain it.” He squints and tries to focus on the waves so he doesn’t start crying. He’s normally so sure of what to say, but not when he’s still so shaken up from the mission and doesn’t know how to tell you how he really feels.

“That’s okay, you’re okay,” you say, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him more, “I’m here for you. You can tell me anything, even if you think you’re not making sense.”

“I’ve been pretty overwhelmed. The mission was really rough. I definitely got… a couple of reality checks. I did some stupid things under pressure. It wasn’t what I had expected at all.” He turns to look at you and his eyes are wide and he’s never been this vulnerable with you before. He swallows hard.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “That must have been really hard.”

Jake nods. “Yeah…” he turns to look at you, a slight smile on his face, “I bet you think I’d never admit this, but it was tough. And I honestly…” was afraid of dying, “...nevermind.” He pushes his fears that almost reached the surface back down.

You can sense the sincerity, the vulnerability, in his voice. You sit up and face him, your noses close to touching. You gingerly touch and hold his cheek and lean in, your noses brushing, and you kiss him. It’s soft and comforting and Jake wraps his arm around your back to support you as you lean further into him. He smiles into the kiss and cups your jaw and he leans back slowly into the damp sand as you fall on top of him. His lips break apart from yours and you’re staring down at him, a pink blush across his cheeks, and he smiles up at you with his perfect, toothy grin.

Maybe you can’t tell, but he’s out of breath from the effect you have on him. You’re gentle with him. No one’s ever gentle with Hangman. That’s why he acts so cocky; he’s used to constantly being challenged and having to defend himself with a sharp edge—at the expense of coming across as a brazen douchebag who’s too hard to get along with. But you care about him and you don’t see him how everyone else sees him. You’re sweet and gentle and kind and plant kisses all along his cheeks and neck when the two of you are laying in bed. Your kisses can be hard and rough when you want them to be but usually they’re soft and sweet and Jake likes that. You’re the only one who’s ever put up with him for this long or listens to his stories and sometimes he feels guilty because of it. He feels that you deserve better. He thinks that trying to use his words to tell you how he feels about you will only ruin everything, because he’s learned over time that more often than not, when he opens his mouth, that’s when things go downhill. One day, maybe you will realize that Jake is not enough for you. He doesn’t know how he would deal with that.

It’s hard to catch Hangman in a state of deep thought, but it’s easy to tell when it’s happening. You watch as Jake looks up at the stars, his eyes darting around the sky and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You wonder what he’s thinking about. You have no idea what went down on that mission, but you can tell it took a toll on him. You’re not sure if this is a good idea or not, but you pry. You run your fingers through his hair, and he lets you of course, and you say, “Jake, you can talk to me. About what happened on the mission.”

He shakes his head too quickly, like he didn’t even give himself a chance to consider that he can actually open up and talk to someone if he just let himself. “Nah,” he tries to say nonchalantly, “I mean, it doesn’t really matter.”

You frown. Maybe everyone else could allow Jake to brush away his problems, but you can’t. You move off of Jake and kneel in the sand next to him. Slightly confused, Jake props himself up in the sand on his arms, and you cup both sides of Jake’s face, gently but with purpose.

“Jake. It does matter. You matter to me. I care about you and I can tell that something’s off and I want to be… someone you can talk to,” you say firmly.

Jake feels like his head is spinning. He thinks, Are you real? He wants to hold you and spin you around and kiss you and know for certain that he will never have to spend a day without you again. He’s never felt so safe before. He turns his head slightly away from you, not knowing if he’ll be able to look you in the eyes and say this. He takes a deep breath and it feels like he’s about to leap from a cliff.

“I’m afraid of dying,” Jake finally whispers. He expects you to laugh or make some snarky comment—everyone else does it. But you don’t say anything. He can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t feel scrutinized or judged, he just feels seen, for the first time in a while. So, slowly, warily, he continues. “I know I always act like nothing bothers me and that I fly too perfectly to ever get killed in action but… I really could die out there. And I almost did and it was terrifying,” his voice cracks and you reach your hand out to take his and when he looks at you, he almost breaks down. “I was scared that that would be it. That I wouldn’t make it back.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” you say, “You’re amazing, Jake, I honestly have no idea how you do what you do every day. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be scared. You have a whole team of pilots who care about you, and I’m here for you, and I… I’m so glad you’re here. I’m lucky to be able to spend time with you.”

Jake blinks back a tear, turning fully towards you. You pause in case he wants to say something more. You want him to be able to tell you anything. His eyes are glistening and he’s smiling at you, pure adoration spread across his face. Maybe another day he’ll find the words to describe all of his deepest fears and insecurities, but for now he just squeezes your hand in appreciation and admires how the moonlight illuminates you. He doesn’t need to say it—you know he’s telling you Thank you. Thank you for being here for me.

“I missed you,” you say, giving him a little nudge.

“And I missed you, darlin’.”

Later, the two of you walk up to where the waves are crashing and get your feet wet. Of course, Jake tries to kick the cold water up into your face and you run away from him laughing. He chases after you, yelling your name. Running out of breath, you stop in your tracks and let him grab your hips and spin you around and kiss you. You stretch your arms up to drape them over his shoulders as he leans down into you. A moan escapes your lips and Jake grins into the kiss, holding onto you tighter.

“Mmm… moan for me more, sweetheart,” Jake purrs half-jokingly, letting you pull away from him because you’re giggling too hard.

“Nice try, Hangman. How about you walk me home?” You start walking in front of him and hold your hand out behind you. He skips to get back in step with you and takes your hand, his lips tingling still with the feeling of yours on them. He smiles, so utterly amused by you, and you walk hand-in-hand down the beach towards your house. He wishes he could figure you out easier; he notices how you avoid saying his real name, despite how his heart flutters when you say Jake, and he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose just to get his eyebrow to quirk.

After walking off of the beach, your house is only two blocks away. You’re starting to feel sleepy, but the way Jake’s thumb is rubbing the back of your hand as you walk is making you want him. When you reach your front door, though, a wave of anxiety washes over you. You turn to face Jake and he’s looking at you with a dazzling smile. You know this is the part where you either invite him inside or ask him to text you when he’s gotten home safe. His hand is still intertwined with yours but he’s standing a few steps back. He doesn’t want to overstep or pressure you—you know he won’t step forward without your permission. You want more than anything to pull him into your place and kiss him hard but you suddenly feel nervous, as if you’d never done this before. You close your eyes for a moment and swallow.

“Well… will I see you soon, Lieutenant?” You ask, mad at yourself for not just going for it. Jake’s expression wavers for only a second. He would spend every second of every day with you if he could, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t also nervous. The more time he spends with you, the more likely he is to eventually fuck things up. He bows dramatically in front of you and places a kiss on the back of your palm.

“You can see me whenever you want to,” he says earnestly, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

You step forward and lean up, kissing him quickly and leaving him breathless. You let go of his hand and turn to open your door, looking over your shoulder, “Text me when you get home, Bagman!”

Jake laughs, shaking his head disapprovingly. You wiggle your fingers at him in a bye-bye motion. He walks backwards down your front pathway so he can keep looking at you. He waits for you to step into your place before turning around to start walking home himself. You close your front door and watch from the window as he turns the corner.

You get ready for bed and as you’re exiting the bathroom, your phone dings on your bedside table. It’s Jake texting you I’m home safe along with a slightly blurry selfie of him in the mirror brushing his teeth. His hair is falling forward into his face and you feel like you’re going to collapse at how attractive he looks. You write back Looking good, cowboy! and you don’t see it but Jake’s face lights up when he sees the heart you added at the end. He will lay in bed thinking about every possible way he could tell you that he adores you, if only he had the guts to do so. And you lay in bed, scrolling through your camera roll, looking at all of the silly, caught-off-guard pictures you’ve taken of Jake where he’s grinning like an idiot and his dimples are showing and Oh, God, you’re really fucking wrecked for him.

———

The next day goes by like any normal Friday. You wake up, grab breakfast, and hop in the car to drive over to campus. Paying attention in class only slightly helps you stop thinking about Jake; he always finds a way to sneak back into your thoughts anyways. During your last class of the day, you have an exam, and you stupidly feel sad that Jake hadn’t texted you that morning to wish you good luck. You obviously hadn’t gotten a chance to update Jake on your academics last night, but before, he would always know what you were up to. If he knew you had an exam to study for or a paper to write, he would be your own personal cheerleader. He’d bring you coffee if you needed to pull an all-nighter, and he’d do a horrible job at trying to incentivize you: “For every sentence you write I’ll give you a kiss!” “Jake, that’s gonna distract me even more! I’ll never be able to finish writing if you keep kissing me!” You try to ignore the fact that you miss him like crazy and how you’ve never felt so scared to like someone so much before. You grip your pen tighter and try to focus on the exam.

Then, he calls that evening. Jake knows you always have off from bartending on Fridays. In fact, when he first found out, he started ditching the rest of the crew at the Hard Deck to spend time with you. He’d show up at your place, a huge grin spread across his face as he eagerly waited for the door to swing open. And there you’d be, just as happy to see him. Neither of you called these Friday night dates “dates” even though that’s what they were.

When you answer the call, you’re just getting back into the house after hitting traffic on the way home. You balance your phone between your shoulder and your cheek as you fumble for your keys, “Seresin?” Something inside of you can’t allow yourself to say Jake. It’s almost too domestic, especially considering most of the people in his life call him by his callsign. Ninety percent of the time it’s Hangman; people rarely call him Seresin, let alone Jake. When you think of his name, your chest tightens at all of the sickly romantic feelings you feel for him, and how you’re too afraid to find out whether he feels the same way about you.

“Seresin?” He emphasizes, half-serious shock in his voice, “Aw, come on, darlin’, what’s going on with you? What happened to Jake? Or, if I’m not mistaken, it’s more like Jaaaake—” he heightens the pitch of his voice, softly mocking the way you tend to moan out his name in bed.

“Oh, shut up, Hangman,” you snort, “To what do I owe this pleasurable phone call? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Do have a bit of a problem, though. I, uh, ordered way too much takeout and I can’t possibly eat it all by myself,” he says in a tone that tells you he absolutely bought too much takeout on purpose so he could have an excuse to call you, and you can’t help but break into a huge smile. “So… I thought maybe you could come around and we could—”

“Okay. Yes.” You say it before you could even try to stop yourself. Jake is too powerful for your own good. Live in the moment, or whatever, right? What could be so bad about doing what you and Jake have always done? You know he must care about you, enjoy spending time with you. It’s just the little voice in the back of your head that makes you scared, but you try to ignore it. You want to be with him. “I just got home from class. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

Jake’s house is only a few blocks away, and the sun is beginning to set as you skip down your porch steps onto the sidewalk. As you get closer, you feel your hands get sweaty and you force your brain to decide whether you should let your heart lead tonight. Yes, you want to protect yourself, but you want Jake more than anything. As you turn the corner and walk up to Jake’s door, anxiety begins to rise in your chest and you try desperately to calm it down as you knock.

The door swings open mere seconds after, and an energized-looking Jake is standing there beaming at you. He’s wearing a slightly worn coffee-colored t-shirt and black sweatpants. You try not to choke at the sight of his strong arms, the veins in his hands, the way his fluffy hair is begging to be pulled at. You clear your throat and smile shyly back at him, almost embarrassed. Why are you so damn nervous?

“Well, are you just gonna stand there?” Jake’s right eyebrow quirks upward. “Cat got your tongue? You undressin’ me with your eyes?” You open your mouth to retort but just look mock-angrily at him, disapproval all over your face.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just fuckin’ with you,” he smiles sweetly, holding back a laugh at how you can shoot him such a cold hard stare at a moments notice, “Well, kind of. But if you don’t get your pretty self in here now, I will shut this door.”

“Oh, you—” You giggle and grab his arm to push him back inside when he bends down and picks you up, completely sweeping you off your feet. His arms are wrapped around your thighs and you squeal as your balance gets yanked from under you for a split second, but you know you’re safe and steady in his arms. He’s laughing as he slams the door with his foot and runs inside with you basically flung over his shoulder. “Seresin, I swear!” You cry out between laughs.

He runs around the living room couch with you on his shoulder, kind of like the victory laps he’ll do when he wins a football or volleyball game down on the beach. Rounding the corner of the couch once more, he slips just slightly and holds you tighter as he leans forward so you fall onto the couch cushions, only slightly painfully. He’s tangled up in you, one arm still by your thigh and the other hand is right next to your head, steadying his fall. He looks down at you and you look up at him, breathless. His eyes look to your lips and he takes his time to look back into your eyes. He raises his eyebrows just slightly, and you know he’s asking for permission. You don’t think you have it in you to say anything, so you cup your hand tenderly along his jaw and he’s leaning forward until your noses are touching and you feel his hot breath as he wavers there for a moment. You close your eyes and close the gap, pressing your lips to his.

You had kissed him last night on your porch, but you hadn’t given him much time to react. This time, Jake’s hand slowly drags up your thigh and to your hip where he holds you. His mouth doesn’t leave yours as he re-balances himself in between your legs so he can take his other hand and hold your jaw right behind your ear. His fingertips are gently massaging your scalp as he deepens the kiss. You let out a soft moan and he smiles against you. He breaks away, but his face stays close to yours. You hold your breath, eyes darting around his face.

“I…” Jake begins, letting out a sigh, “...am so hungry. For you, of course, but also for the food I got.” He watches as your expression goes from confused to exasperated, and you playfully hit the side of his arm.

“You’re evil!” You laugh as Jake peppers your neck with kisses and goes to stand up.

“Hmm, I like keeping you on your toes,” he winks at you and clicks his tongue, walking to the other side of the room where the kitchen area is. You smirk, shaking your head disapprovingly and following him. As he described over the phone, he definitely did get way too much takeout, also conveniently from the place you and him always go to and find yourselves craving. Your heart flutters for a moment as you grab two of the containers and take it over to the square kitchen table.

Another nice thing is that you and Jake can have moments of silence that aren’t awkward. When the two of you are at the Hard Deck or on the beach around the rest of the Top Gun pilots, you definitely play up your snarky, flirty comments at each other. The rest of his crew’s attention only eggs Hangman and his ego on, so he’ll follow you around and do whatever it takes to get a reaction out of you. But when it’s just you and Jake, there are more small moments.

You’ll catch him looking at you and his eyes will only light up more, his adorable dimples becoming more visible as he smiles. When you take walks along the beach, your arms will brush against each other and both of you will lean closer and closer until your fingers slowly intertwine and you feel a burst of warmth spread from your fingertips to the rest of your body. Jake will stop by your house in his truck on a whim and you’ll go on drives where you playfully argue over what music gets played, but Jake secretly likes when you play your music because he likes hearing you sing along. He likes his hair being played with, but only when the two of you are alone because Jake Seresin would not be caught dead with his hair getting messed up in front of his colleagues. His fluffy, roughed up hair is only for you.

You sit cross-legged in one of the wooden chairs across the table from Jake and start eating. You look at Jake as he’s in the middle of chewing and he gives you a goofy, closed-mouth smile.

“Thank you,” you say, motioning to the food in front of you with your fork, “I’m happy that you didn’t forget our…” you stop for a moment, and Jake raises his eyebrows in a half silly, half intrigued way, “...our Friday date nights.” Your voice trails off at the end but Jake heard you quite clearly and he lights up inside.

“Of course I wouldn’t forget,” he says simply, “Fridays wouldn’t be the same without you.” You blush and smile, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him.

You and Jake catch up. You fill him in about your studies and he admires you for your drive and accomplishments, saying that he’d never be able to do what you do. Laughing and shaking your head, you say that you could tell him the exact same thing, asking him about the mission. He can’t go into too much detail, but says that he’s glad everyone returned safely. You maintain eye contact and nod as he explains to you all the ins and outs that you don’t really understand, and yet you find yourself smiling as he bursts into his passionate way of describing things.

Later, you’re helping Jake clean up in the kitchen when he walks up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist. The ticklish feeling makes you giggle and place your hands over his arms that are hugging you. You expect him to say something, but he remains silent. He slowly nuzzles his nose into your shoulder and breathes in deeply. He squeezes you just a little bit tighter.

“...Jake?” You ask. He practically shudders at your use of his real name. “Are you okay?”

“Just missed you,” he mumbles into your shoulder, “...A lot.” He turns his head and presses slow kisses on your neck, making you shiver. Your legs almost buckle from the shock that his lips send to your core. You can’t help but let out a low moan which only makes him grip you tighter. He gives you a small bite on your neck and drags his teeth down to your collarbone, pulling the collar of your sweater to the side.

“Ohh…” you sigh, reaching behind you to grab onto Jake’s arm. He promptly grabs you and spins you around to face him, pushing you gently up against the counter. His hands rest low on your hips and his eyes search yours. It’s your move now. Jake doesn’t want to be overbearing, he doesn’t want to make a wrong move and mess things up, he doesn’t want to do anything to make you hate him. He sucks in a breath and waits for what you will do.

You will push your deep feelings for Jake away and insist that you will be just fine when you pull him by the collar and kiss him back. You drag him over to his bed and lay down and grab at his hair as he kneels down between your legs and makes you feel good. You lean back as his tongue laps at you and his arm extends out to grab your hand and intertwine your fingers together. He pushes his tongue against you harder and squeezes your hand harder, and you squeeze back, shutting your eyes tight. When he looks up at you from between your legs, he has a fire in his eyes, dripping with desire. He licks his lips which are covered in you. His strong hands grip both of your thighs and press them farther apart as he latches his mouth onto your clit. You cry out and dig your nails into his scalp, earning a deep moan from him. His mouth leaves you once more and he glances at you.

“I— Is this okay? Are you okay?” He whispers, out of breath, his thumb lazily circling over your clit as he waits for a response. You moan because it feels so good and his eyebrow quirks upward, amused from watching you squirm under him. “Darlin’?”

You groan and grind your hips up against his thumb. “Can you… can you use your fingers?” You choke out, “Please?”

Jake smirks and you want to smack him for acting so cocky but before you can even try, he’s leaning up over you and holding his middle and ring fingers out towards you. You instinctively open your mouth, just slightly, and he slips his fingers in. You suck on them, not breaking eye contact as he looks down at you intensely. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth slowly and rubs a few wet circles over your clit, which you barely have time to react to before he slides his fingers down into your cunt and you arch your back and cry out, “Oh—fuck!”

“Hmm? You like my fingers?” Jake smiles as he pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers with every thrust.

“Mmhm,” you whimper, biting down on your lip. With all you can muster, you shoot him an angry look and pant out, “Oh Jake, fuck, please please use your mouth at the same time…”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake takes no time settling back in between your legs, lapping and sucking at your clit while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’re moaning and grabbing at his free hand, he’s moaning into your cunt and the vibrations feel so good. Damn Hangman for knowing what he’s doing and doing it so perfectly.

“Fuck, fuck, keep going, oh my God,” you moan, managing to prop yourself up to watch Jake eat you out.

“Wouldn’t dream of stoppin’,” he mumbles into your skin.

He laps at you hungrily and you throw your head back. He doesn’t let up for a single moment, knowing your body so well. He keeps going and keeps going and he feels you starting to clench around his fingers and he keeps going. You can almost feel his cocky grin as he grinds his mouth into you. You can’t see it but his cock is hard and as badly as he wants to slip a hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and jerk himself off, he won’t because he’d rather be holding your hand as he makes you come undone on his mouth.

“Jake…” you strain, “I’m close.” Your hands are in his hair, pulling at it fiercely and digging your nails in, making him groan.

“Oh, fuck, please come on my mouth,” he moans. He holds you as you buck your hips into him and your legs writhe.

And suddenly, you’re coming and it sends sparks through your body and your hand shoots out to grasp onto Jake’s arm tightly and you choke out, “Jake—!” You whimper as he works you through it, fingers still pumping into you, slower now, and his mouth is soaked and he has the biggest, most content smile on his face. He places wet kisses on your inner thighs as you continue to shake.

As you catch your breath, Jake crawls up the bed to press kisses to your neck and you tug at the bottom of his t-shirt. He smiles and pulls the shirt over his head quickly, his lips back on your neck in an instant. You wrap your arms around him and he lifts his head up, looking at you.

“Do you want me?” He whispers. His hair is out of place, disheveled, some strands stuck with sweat on his forehead. He’s so criminally hot. You’re used to coming up with something snarky to compete with his own lines, but the way he’s looking at you so intently, you can only say, “Yes.”

That’s all he needs to hear and his lips are on yours, passionate. He holds your jaw and his other hand slides up your sweater and the two of you giggle softly as you lean up so he can pull it over your head. Your hands grab at the waistband of Jake’s sweatpants and he grins in between kisses as you palm him through his boxers. He groans and tries to remain his composure over you but his eyes flutter between being open and shut as he grinds his hips into your hand.

“Fuck, that feels so good, sweetheart,” he praises.

You dip your hand into his boxers and he shudders as you grip his cock. He rushes to pull down both his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off quickly. You’re smiling at his eagerness and he catches your eye and laughs softly, leaning forward to kiss you again. You wrap your legs around him and shiver at the feeling of his hard cock resting against you. Your legs squeeze tighter around him. He spits into his hand and rubs his palm over the head of his cock, then slides it over your clit and down against your entrance.

Jake looks at you. He hesitates for a moment, which you only see as him teasing you like he frequently does, but he’s nervous. Something different about this time. Not that every other time didn’t make him go equally as crazy, fall equally as hard for you. He had been away from you for two months and now that he finally has you again he’s scared that maybe you don’t want him anymore, that you won’t always want to wait around for him. He freezes up and now you notice the way his eyes are wide.

“Jake…” You place a hand on his cheek.

“Sorry, sorry,” he shakes his head, “I—” he lets out a small laugh, “I’m kind of nervous, to be honest.”

“Nervous?” You smile, “You just made me come on your fingers. Hard. What… are you nervous about?”

Jake’s expression softens at your praise. “Whenever I’m around you I’m nervous,” he admits quietly, “You make me short circuit.” You’re surprised at the way he says it, no hint of humor or playfulness at all. You brush your thumb over his cheek comfortingly.

“You have no need to feel nervous,” you whisper. Then you swallow hard, adding, “You always have me.”

His eyes light up and he pushes you back onto the bed and his lips collide with yours. He pulls away and grips his cock, looking down as he pushes slowly into you. You gasp out at the feeling of the head inside and Jake wavers, watching your expression. It hurts a little bit, but you look up at him and nod fervently, urging him to keep going. He pushes in slowly and lets out a low moan. You shudder as you engulf him. He fits in you perfectly.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, rocking his body into you.

You hold him close as he fucks into you. With every moan and whimper that escapes your mouth, Jake’s cock twitches inside of you. He positions himself exactly where he knows he can hit the spot that makes you cry out in pleasure. Jake is panting, his breath hitching every time his cock disappears inside of you. You’re clawing at his back, pulling him close so you can kiss him again, and it’s erratic and hungry. You reach your hand up next to your head to grip onto the blanket but Jake grasps your hand with his instead.

“F-Fuck,” Jake groans.

“Jake—” you gasp as you can feel another orgasm slowly growing. “You—fuck—you feel so good, Jake.”

Jake’s body jerks forward at the sound of you moaning his name. His eyes flutter closed for a moment as he’s overtaken with the pleasure you’re giving him, groaning out a string of fucks and dropping his head into your shoulder. He keeps fucking you, just a bit slower. He feels like he could come at any moment. His thrusts stop and he kisses you. When he pulls away, your noses touch and you look up at him.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly.

“Y-Yeah,” Jake nods, swallowing hard and catching his breath, “Do you… fuck, can we switch positions, maybe?”

You smile, a twinkle in your eye that makes his heart swoon.

“Let me ride you,” you say.

“You can do whatever you want to me, darlin’,” Jake’s eyes are wide in adoration as he pulls out and watches as you get up and lightly push him backwards onto the bed.

You straddle him and he whimpers when you reach behind you to grab his cock. His hands are instantly glued to your hips and he greedily tries to buck his hips up into you.

“Fuck me,” he rasps. “Please.”

Any thoughts of teasing him go out the window and you sink down onto him, leaning your hands on his chest to steady yourself. You bounce on his cock, leaning forward so your foreheads are almost touching. His hands are wrapped around you and your hands are around his shoulders. You’re both sweaty and breathless, kissing each other feverishly in between moans. He holds onto you tighter and fucks up into you at a relentless pace, and you choke out his name in between moans.

“Don’t stop—oh my God,” you plead, bringing your hand down to rub fast circles over your clit.

Jake grunts in response, his whole body glistening in sweat, his brain becoming complete mush as he watches you move on top of him. Everything about you makes his heart flutter and his cock twitch. He can feel himself getting close so he stops bucking into you to let you grind your hips into him while you touch yourself. He watches you intently, lust practically dripping from his expression as you throw your head back, grinding into him at a desperate pace, your hands pressed against his chest. Jake could fall in love with you. Maybe he already is.

“I’m close,” you whine, “OhmygodI’mclose…” You bounce on him again and he bucks his hips to slam up into you at just the right timing.

“M’close too,” Jake murmurs, “Come on my cock, sweetheart, I’ll come with you.” You feel his hand on yours and he’s helping you rub your clit and oh fuck you’re going to come. You tense up your legs and whimper, your body jerking forward and your head buries into Jake’s shoulder as you come hard.

“Jake—!” Your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering fuckfuckfuck as Jake wraps his hands around your back and he ruts into you recklessly, coming inside of you as you’re spasming around him. He moans out your name and throws his head back and keeps thrusting up into you as he comes.

Slowly, your body relaxes and you lean forward and upward off of him, shuddering at the feeling of his cock leaving you. Jake is breathing heavily, his eyes half closed and his hands resting on your waist. You place your hand on the headboard behind Jake to gain balance and you shift over to lay down next to him. He grabs your hips and tries to pull you to fall on top of him, but you slide away next to him on the bed. Now you can feel yourself begin to panic.

You’re acutely aware of how you’re completely naked in Jake’s bed and you feel exposed and you’re not sure how to deal with all the feelings you have for him. As much as you want to believe Jake’s actions towards you are genuine, you can’t help but worry that he only sees you as someone he likes to fuck. You feel your whole body shivering in the bed and you feel uncomfortable and cold. Jake is breathing hard lying on his back, his arm still splayed out towards you, trying to get you to come back and cuddle. You’re antsy to get back home, to be alone and catch your breath. And you definitely don’t want to overstay your welcome, so you quickly roll over in bed and sit up, your back towards him, bending down to pick up your sweater.

“Wait, hey, what’s wrong?” Jake asks, propping himself up on his forearm. You make the mistake of turning around to face him, and you see a look in his eyes that you’ve only caught a handful of times before. It’s genuine, soft. Your heart aches just a little more for him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and pull your sweater over your head. He reaches for your hand as you tug your shirt into place.

“Well… if nothing’s wrong, will you stay?” He’s staring at you with his wide, eager eyes. You’re stunned at his question, remaining frozen in place.

“Stay?” You try to ask him sternly, to challenge him, but instead it comes out as a self-conscious whisper. Jake tugs again at your hand, beginning to rub circles on the back with his thumb.

“Yes, stay.” He folds open the covers for you to climb back underneath with him. His eyes don’t leave you and he looks nervous that you might actually just get up and leave. His eyes dart around your face, trying to get a read on what you’re thinking.

“Do you… really want me to stay?” You ask, unable to meet his eyes. “You don’t just want to keep me here to go another round or something?” You curse at yourself for self-sabotaging and accusing him of something you know he would never do to you, but it just slipped out.

Jake lets out a laugh, moreso out of shock than humor. “What—? No, I really want you to stay here with me. I dunno, I was thinking we could maybe watch a movie later and…” His composure falters and he furrows his brows, hurt, “...Do you really think that I just want to use you? After all this time we’ve spent together?”

You frown, “No. I– I don’t know. I just… I’m scared that you just see me as a fuck buddy and one day you’re going to find someone prettier to take home because you could find so much better and then you’ll completely forget about me.” You swallow hard, not expecting to lay everything out on the line. Hot tears sting your eyes as Jake sits up and pulls you closer to him. You’re both sitting cross-legged, facing each other. You keep babbling in an attempt to stop yourself from crying, “I mean, we never really talked about what we were before you left and so I wasn’t sure if you would just want to be done and when you were gone I missed you so much and I realized how much you mean to me but I got scared that you wouldn’t… I– I just want you to like me.”

Jake lets out the breath he was holding in, trying to hold back the elated feeling he has knowing that your feelings are the same as his. “Do you not see how I look at you every time you’re around?” He asks quietly, brushing his thumb across your cheek and looking into your eyes. This time, you don’t look away and you let yourself get lost in his gaze. You see the softness in his smile. “You- I swear to you, you’re the only woman that’s been on my mind ever since we met. I know how I can be, I know the stories the other guys probably told you when we first met, but I promise I just want you.” You don’t say anything so he squeezes your hand with emphasis, “I like you. So much.”

Now the tears actually fall, but only because you’re so overcome with emotion. Jake had never said anything so vulnerable to you before and you hold his arm as he cups your face and kisses you, slow and gentle. When he pulls away, he brushes the tears from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Jake says, “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything to you before I left. I… I’m not very good at expressing my feelings. I got scared that I’ll say something wrong if I try, and that I’ll just fuck everything up. I’m not used to this, to feeling so happy with someone. I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you. I guess I was just too scared to tell you, that maybe you would want someone better. But I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want you.”

“Oh,” you say, looking down at your lap for a moment. When you look back at Jake, his eyes are shiny with tears, as are yours, but you’re both smiling. Jake’s dimples make your heart soar. “I guess we were both being kind of silly. I would never—” your voice cracks a bit, “I would never want someone else. I want you. I was just nervous that I… couldn’t call you mine.”

“I’m yours, I’ve been yours since the first night we met,” Jake smiles. He looks up at the ceiling, pondering for a second, “Well… maybe the second night.” A devilish smile spreads across his face.

“Wait, what?” You exclaim in mock hurt, grabbing his arm, “What do you mean? What did I do the first night?” You’re giggling as he pulls you into his arms.

“No, no, I—” he’s laughing, at how silly what he’s about to say is, and because he’s in total euphoria knowing that everything is good with you, “I… okay, look, I know I was really pestering you that night. I was drunk—”

“You were very drunk, Seresin,” you scold him playfully, resting your chin on his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, it was pretty bad,” he admits, “and you know me, I uh, probably came on pretty strongly…”

“That’s why I was trying my best to ignore you,” you giggle, pressing kisses on his chest. “Jake. You were so horny.”

He turns red, shaking his head and laughing, running his hands up and down your back. “I was so drunk and I think I took your rejection—which, by the way, I completely understand—really personally. Like when Coyote dragged me home I think I was crying because I was so upset. And he was like ‘Dude, you have got to stop acting like a slut in front of a woman you’re trying to impress.’ I was sure I’d have no chance with you again, so I almost just tried to give it all up.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t give it up.”

“The next night, the moment I saw you again, everything else just went out the door. You wouldn’t leave my mind. And when you smiled and laughed at my jokes, and actually enjoyed my dumb flirting, I was head over heels. It’s always been you, my dear.”

You lean up to kiss him. “You’ve always had me. Since the very first night.”

Jake beams.

———

“Hey, darlin’.”

You’re curled up on the couch in Jake’s living room under a huge fuzzy blanket; all of the lights are off except for the light coming from the television, turned down to volume 4. You look up and see Jake smiling at you, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He walks over to the couch and gets under the blanket, sitting next to where you’re laying. You scoot down and snuggle against him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper. It’s currently 5 am. “I know you had to get up in an hour or so to get on base so I was praying I wouldn’t wake you up before—”

You’re cut off by Jake shifting his body to face you, and he takes your hands in his. “No need to apologize,” he says, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I woke up in a drunken sweat and I chugged a bunch of water and then I was too awake to fall back asleep so I just stayed in here.” Jake laughs softly and squeezes your hands.

It’s been a week since you told Jake about your feelings for him and he told you his. You both laughed at how silly you both had assumed the worst about how the other felt and promptly decided to become exclusive—what both of you have wanted since before Jake even left for the mission. Jake was elated, knowing that he could now walk around and call you his girlfriend, his partner.

Usually at the Hard Deck, you and Jake would purposefully play up the flirting, partially to get reactions out of the other aviators. You had always been too shy to do anything too tender, too gentle, in front of everyone else because you weren’t sure if that’s what the two of you were. But last night, when Jake and the rest of the Dagger Squad arrived at the Hard Deck during your shift, he didn’t hold back. When you walked over to his table to hand everyone their drinks, Jake had snaked his arm around your waist and kissed you sweetly, catching you off guard. When you both pulled away, everyone’s eyes were on you. Rooster had looked over at Coyote, whose eyebrows had shot up. Phoenix sat there with her mouth wide open, and Payback nudged at Bob and Fanboy to stop playing pool.

“Am I… missing something? A new development of sorts… perhaps?” Phoenix drawled teasingly. Bob was giggling, covering his mouth with his hand, and everyone else was staring, blinking, waiting to see what you or Hangman would say.

“What?” Jake had quipped, acting exasperated. “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend in public?”

Everyone’s expression then turned to excitement and they all started exclaiming at the same time, but you were smiling too widely at Jake to even hear any of them. He saw your happiness and winked, kissing you again. His girlfriend. You were on cloud nine.

Since putting a label on things, the two of you also finally started spending the night together. You’d switch up whose place it was at, but there was no longer an awkward feeling of having to gather up your things to “head back home.” Whether you were at your place or Jake’s, you were at home. It only mattered that you were in his company.

Last night, after stumbling back to Jake’s place (he wasn’t as drunk as you, although you remember him stumbling just as badly as you were up the steps to the house), you’d fallen asleep on top of Jake in a tangled, drunken mess. You woke up mere hours later, sweating all of the alcohol off and having a pounding headache. You’d drank some water and ate some leftovers from the fridge and suddenly felt full of energy, thus why you chose to stay on the couch in the main room instead of returning to bed.

“But you’re feeling alright now?” Jake asks you.

You nod and lean on his shoulder, laying your hand on his chest. “Yeah, I feel good now. I just feel really awake. I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to bed at this rate.”

Jake hums as his arm is wrapped around you and his thumb rubs over your shoulder comfortingly. The room is silent for a few moments and you’re focused on how Jake smells like amber and firewood. Then, you feel Jake shift his body to look at you, and you lift your head off of his shoulder to meet his eyes.

“What if we did something?” Jake asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Right now, let’s do somethin’!” He flings the blanket off of him and stands up, grabbing his keychain and watching amusedly as you cock your eyebrow at him. “I have an idea,” he says, holding his hand out to you. “Trust me?”

Of course you do. You take his hand.

You’re in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck and have no idea where you’re going. You roll the window down and let the cool, early morning air hit your face. You catch Jake glance over at you multiple times, every time you hit a stop sign without fail. You look back at him, each time, fighting the urge to lean forward and pull him in for a kiss like a giddy teenager.

Jake keeps driving and then he makes a turn that makes you realize he’s driving onto the base. You turn to look at him, quirking your eyebrow upwards and smiling as if to say What are you planning, Seresin? He pulls into a spot near the hangar and shoots you a devilish grin as you both get out of the truck. You run around the side of the truck to stay by his side, never having been here before, obviously. He’s grinning like an idiot; he was just sleeping a mere thirty minutes ago but now he looks like he has twice the energy as you. He holds out his hand to you and you take it and he’s running, dragging you along, and you do feel like a giddy teenager, sneaking off somewhere you aren’t supposed to be.

He leads you in through the side door and down a hallway to where a large locker room is. You doubt anyone is on base yet—maybe the Admiral or someone else higher up, which does make you nervous, but the hallways are dark and silent. Jake leads you to his locker, H_NGM_N written at the top. He swings the locker door open and you almost fall over when you notice a photo of you, placed sideways so it could stick in the door and not fall out. It’s a picture of you on the beach, from one of many nights you and Jake walked along the sand, and he had pulled out his phone and pointed it at you as the sunset sky was turning pink and orange and he told you to smile! but you got flustered and covered half of your face instead, using your other hand to reach out towards the camera but it was too late, he already snapped the picture. And there it is, in his locker for him to smile at every time he opens the door.

“What…?” you start to ask him what you’re doing here but trail off when he gives you a mischievous look that says Just wait.

You decide to keep your mouth shut and you look at the green flight suit hanging up in the locker, as well as some more casual gym clothes for workout days. He reaches up to the top shelf and picks up his helmet—the one that makes your heart leap when you see Jake wearing it in pictures he sends you. He closes the locker and turns to you, grinning ear to ear and his eyes slightly scrunched up in happiness. He takes a step forward, your bodies pressing against each other, and he tilts your chin upward and kisses you. You almost fall into him, sighing into the kiss and wrapping your arms around his waist as his hands cup your face gently.

“I’m gonna sneak you into the hangar, onto my F-18,” Jake grins in between kisses.

You look at him, stunned, and your heart rate picks up just thinking about it. You weren’t an aviator—you’d never even stepped foot near the base before. Your whole body warms at the thought of Jake wanting to include you in what was pretty much the most important thing in his life. Your stunned expression turns into a huge smile, matching his. He takes your hand and leads you to the hangar. You knew it had to be a huge space in order to fit all the aircrafts, but you don’t realize how expansive the thing was until you step into it. It opens up onto the runway, where the sun is just beginning to rise over the horizon. Many different aircrafts are lined up in the middle, supplies and tools lined up on the sides. Jake watches as your head turns every which way, taking in the whole place, and he smiles at the fascinated expression on your face.

Jake leads you over to the F-18 that has “Lt. Jake Seresin” written on the side (“Hangman” is right underneath). The top is already lifted up, the cockpit ready to be sat in. It’s a single-seater and you see Jake’s smile almost certainly straining his facial muscles as he holds his hands out towards the seat, the same level of excitement as if he were presenting you a birthday gift he’d been planning for months, beyond excited to watch you open it.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask as Jake climbs up onto the side of the plane, holding his hand out to help you step up, over, and into the seat.

“You know how important flying is to me,” says Jake, “And I want you to know how important you are to me, too. So I thought… why not bring both you and flying together?” He sees your eyebrow raise quizzically, almost scared, and he adds, “The F-18 is not leaving the runway with just you in it, obviously. And… no offense, of course.” You both laugh. “Maybe one day I can get you on a two-seater,” Jake ponders, “But until then…”

You get situated in the seat, eyeing all of the buttons and switches in front of you. Jake leans over the side, watching you intently as you take in everything. You always knew you could never do what Jake does, but now you absolutely can confirm it. You try to put together some of the pieces from what Jake’s told you in the past about how flying works; your eyebrows knit together as you lean in, observing what all of the buttons say on the switchboard and Jake smiles at how cute you look, trying to understand.

Jake rests his chin on the top of the opening of the F-18, stretching his arm out to point out different things to you. “Here you have the left instrument panel, left vertical panel, left console.” He points. “Then over here,”he reaches further over you to point, “is the right instrument panel, right vertical panel, right console.” You try to take it all in, enjoying listening to Jake’s voice as he explains. “Okay, on the left: left side warning lights, as such—” he makes funny, dramatic gestures at what he’s describing and you giggle, “—left digital display center, aaaand the integrated fuel engine indicator. Up top here are two handles… because takeoff can be rough and throw you ‘round a bit. And— Wait, I know what you’re missing.” He jumps down from the side of the F-18 for a moment, and when he comes back up, he’s holding his helmet out towards you and grinning like an idiot.

“You want me to—?” You’re almost at a loss for words. It’s almost equivalent to him handing you an expensive family heirloom that had been passed down for generations. You knew damn well that Jake did not let anyone touch his hair (except for you) and you doubted anyone else would be able to put their hands on his helmet lest he become physical. Your heart swells from his warmth and doting on you. Jake nods, smiling, urging you to put it on.

It’s heavier than you would have expected and when you place it on top of your head, the top falls partly over your eyes and you have to push the helmet back in order to see. When you do, you see Jake smiling at you, a pink blush over his cheeks. He puts his hands on either side of the helmet by your ears and steadies it as perfectly as he can on your head, gently tilting the visor over your eyes, “H_NGM_N” displayed over your forehead.

You glance up at him through the clear goggles, “Do I look good?”

“You look good. You look very good.”

“So, Lieutenant, what do I have to do to get this thing to fly?” You lightly tap on a bunch of switches, pretending to know what you’re doing and earning a lopsided grin from Jake.

“Well,” Jake says, “if you put your hand on the control stick here, then you can steer this thing wherever you wanna go.”

You grasp the control stick, unsure of how exactly to have your hand, and turn to look at Jake for his approval. He nods and leans forward a bit, extending his arm and resting his hand over yours. You shiver at the warmth of his hand and the way it engulfs your own hand. His grip is firm but gentle around you, and he guides your hand as you move the stick right and left, pretending to steer the aircraft. Your whole body is tingling at the feeling of Jake helping you “fly” his plane—you feel secure with his hand over yours. He’s making funny noises trying to simulate being in the air and he’s calling out things like Break right! Enemy aircraft at 6 o’clock! and you’re giggling and leaning into his touch as he hangs over the side of the plane.

You break out of the silly pretend and turn to look at him and it takes him a moment to realize. He stops talking mid sentence and catches your gaze and his eyes go all soft because wow, he is just so mesmerized by you. Jake grins, his dimples showing, and reaches out to tilt the visor up into the helmet. Your eyes sparkle. He wants to kiss you and you notice. Slowly, you trace your hand up to the collar of his shirt and dip your fingers around the chain of his dog tags, gently pulling him closer. Not wanting to bump his forehead against the helmet, he tilts his head and slowly, tantalizingly leans in until his soft lips touch yours. You feel everything else around you disappear.

“Hey, Bagman!”

You jump away as Jake whips his head around to see Phoenix and the rest of the Dagger Squad walk onto the hangar. Phoenix is leaning up on her toes, waving at you and Jake. Rooster is nudging Bob and they’re giggling.

“Didn’t know we had a new trainee,” Coyote smiles.

You don’t know it, but Jake had also confided in Coyote about you while they bunked together on the mission. Okay, maybe Jake didn’t confide in him so much as he could tell that whenever Jake would zone out it was because he was thinking about you. So Coyote had asked what was going on with the two of you and Jake bit down on his tongue as he thought about how he could even begin to explain what he felt about you. Coyote scolded him for not not being upfront with his feelings, and Jake had laid awake that night, staring at the ceiling, scaring himself by thinking about what his life would be like without you.

Now, Coyote sends a quick wink to his friend, as if to say Proud of you. Jake grins and nods back to him.

“What’re you guys doing here so early?” Jake asks, “Thought for sure the place would be empty for at least another hour.”

“Well, Bagman, if you’d read the group chat earlier, we decided to come onto base early so we could still play football down on the beach before it rains later,” Phoenix smiles, “But I guess you were a bit preoccupied to check your phone.” She catches your eye and gives you a devilish grin.

“I– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way here,” you say quickly, lifting yourself from the seat to signal that you would get on your way.

“No, no, wait!” Phoenix runs forward and tilts her phone up at you, snapping a picture of you wearing Jake’s helmet in the seat. She inspects the photo she took. “Adorable.”

Jake turns to face you and he’s glowing. He holds his hand out for you to take and he helps you step out from the F-18. Normally, you wouldn’t know exactly how to conduct yourself with Jake when you were around the other pilots. But standing in front of the rest of them, seeing their excited and happy expressions as Jake puts his arm around your waist, you’re relieved and content to know you can simply lean into him and not feel scared of your feelings anymore. Jake is enthused to show you off to everyone else.

When you hop down onto the ground, you stand next to Jake as the group approaches.

“Captain,” Jake nods towards Maverick, who is standing towards the back of the group. “I promise I will make up for today’s workout. But I will have to catch y’all… later.” Jake reaches behind him to grab your hand in his. Jake squeezes your side and holds his helmet under his other arm, twirling his keys on his finger.

After you pass the group, Jake intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you into a run, leading you back into the locker room. As soon as the door closes behind you, he’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and lifting you up, spinning you around. He’s looking up at you, absolutely enthralled by your glowing expression.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying, breathless.

“What are you sorry for?” You ask as he puts you back onto the ground.

“For not telling you how I feel sooner, for not doing all of this sooner,” he motioned his hands around the room, “Taking you here, showing you around, being able to be us around other people…”

You smile widely, cupping his jaw and tugging him closer to you. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you whisper, “I’m just so happy that we’re okay now—better than okay. I’m so…”

“...Grateful to be in a relationship with the best aviator in the Navy?”

You snort and pinch his cheek. “Yes, Jake, that’s exactly what I was trying to say,” you giggle.

Jake laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheeks over and over again. You’re weak in his arms, succumbing to his kisses. You’re more than happy—you feel as though everything in the world has fallen into place perfectly. You wrap your arms around him, not wanting to ever let go.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin fic #hangman x y/n #top gun maverick #tgm #my stuff

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kitten4sannie · 1 year

Text

15 - ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ - ᴍɪɴɢɪ

ʜᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟᴅ

pairing: himbo bf! mingi x fem! reader feat. yunho, san, and seonghwa

genre: college/frat au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is really bad at taking hints.

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol use, weed mention, switch! mingi, switch! reader, mingi has a big dick, pet names, name calling, dirty talk, grinding, begging, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), bulge kink, exhibitionism, voyeurism, poor attempt at humor

a/n: love me a good himbo <3 this man is dumb in this just how i like themmm. also the song i imagine playing during the dance scene is “deep” by summer walker <3

FFF Masterlist

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You never particularly enjoyed the drink options at frat house parties. They only ever had giant kegs full of cheap beer, along with an endless supply of Tito’s vodka, swearing they had a life supply stocked up in the basement. When you asked Mingi’s friend Yunho where the soda was, all he did was shake his head and say in a slurred voice, “Coach said we gotta cut out sugar.” You genuinely wondered if he was trying to make a joke or if he was 100% serious, but the serious lack of anything chaser-related was making you think he wasn’t lying to you. It seemed like football players were fueled by countless liters of alcohol and protein powder alone. No wonder they were so aggressive on the field.

“Here,” Yunho said, handing you a solo cup filled to the brim with beer, his reddened eyes still friendly and bright. “My brother makes it himself.” You gave him a smile and a thanks, before scanning the crowd for Mingi.

Once you found him, you took a few sips of the watered-down beer Yunho gave you, zoning in and out of the heated conversation your boyfriend was having with his friends about whether professional sports were rigged or not.

“Baby, can you please back me up?” Mingi asked in a whiny voice, snaking an arm around your waist, fingers squeezing you, his plump lips forming a pout. “Tell Seonghwa how stupid he is for thinking sports are fake.”

God, he was so fucking cute. You needed him. Needed to see him pout when he begged you to bounce on his dick.

Taking a long swig of the glorified water, you cleared your throat, leaning your body against Mingi’s. “Seonghwa, I think it’s really bold of you to assume they’re all fake, and honestly, I think you might just be in denial since your teams never win.”

The rest of Mingi’s drunk companions erupted in low ‘ooh’s’ and ‘damns’, some of them nodding their heads in agreement. San, who was already fucked up, made a show out of his reaction, smacking Seonghwa’s shoulder with his hand and pointing a finger at him, grinning at his friends. “He literally never bets on the right team. It’s so fucking funny.”

Irritated, Seonghwa scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a drink of his beer with one hand shoved into his pocket. “Where’d you find this one, Mingi?”

“Don’t start.” Mingi clutched you against his side defensively, taking a sip from his drink. “Or else I’ll put hot chili oil in your jockstrap, like I did during your hazing.”

That shut Seonghwa up, leading him to hold his hands up in defeat. Mingi idly stroked your hair while continuing his conversation with his friends, this time talking about their favorite plays from last night’s game. You went back to being bored, but this time your mind was swimming with thoughts of Mingi stroking your hair while his cock was down your throat.

That was it. You needed to jump into action. However, you didn’t want to be too forward, not wanting to ask for Mingi’s cock in front of at least a quarter of the football team — though a part of you wanted them to know that he was about to pound you into oblivion.

“Baby, I’m so cold,” you whined softly, looking up at Mingi with the cutest expression you could conjure up, rubbing your bare arms up and down. “Can you warm me up?”

“Of course, doll.” Mingi let go of you and pulled his letterman jacket off, leaving him in a plain white, rather tight-fitting t-shirt. He put it over your shoulders, smiling at you. “Better?” As soon as you nodded and gave you a small smile back, he went back to talking to his buddies.

Damn. Too subtle. You weren’t about to give up, though. After staring into the distance for a while, idly sipping on your beer and still wishing you had access to a coke, you hatched another plan. Feeling ecstatic when a R&B song finally came on, knowing it would be easier to get into instead of the rap that was blasting out of the speakers a minute ago, you rubbed your hand up Mingi’s waist, lifting yourself up on your heels to murmur into his ear, “Baby, I want to dance. I really like this song.”

Ignoring San’s begs for him to duel him in a game of beer pong, Mingi pressed a kiss to your temple, slipping his hand underneath his oversized jacket to touch the small of your back. “Let’s go then.”

Maybe he was being subtle, too. How hot of him. “Yay~” You pulled his jacket off and walked over to Yunho, who was talking to someone else. You gave him the jacket, and in turn, he gave you a quick smile and put it over his shoulder to look after.

Once the two of you were on the dance floor, which was just the oversized living room filled with drunken, sweaty people, you turned away from Mingi and pressed yourself into him, running your hands down your snug dress along to the tempo of the music. Mingi placed his hands instinctively on your swaying hips, moving along with you, leaning himself down to press his lips onto your jaw. Completely immersed in your own world, the bass thumping inside your ears, you began grinding on him in a more deliberate way, his heavy cock growing hard against your ass, making your brain feel fuzzy.

“Baby, they can see us, you know,” he mumbled under his breath, trying to pretend he couldn’t see Yunho waving at him from the kitchen and giving him a thumbs up. He definitely wouldn’t look at San, who was grabbing his imaginary tits and moaning obnoxiously loud. And he didn’t even notice Seonghwa staring at the both of you with contempt, even though there was a faint blush on his cheeks.

You, however, noticed and acted accordingly. “Let them watch.” Placing your hands over his and guiding them up your body, you arched your back, squeezing your tits using his hands instead. Curious, you glanced over at the kitchen, finding Mingi’s friend's dumbstruck expressions to be particularly entertaining. That would give them something to talk about, instead of rambling about football for another hour.

“Mmm…” Mingi buried his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, slowly brushing his fingers over your nipples through the thin material of your dress.

Your plan finally worked, in the best way possible, more turned on knowing his friends were watching, but not being able to do more than that and having to live through Mingi when he explained all the different times you unraveled for him. He always made sure to leave out the countless times he did that, since he always ended up drooling and begging for you to make him cum with your tight cunt.

It took one more roll of your boyfriend’s hips and a single tit squeeze for you to sigh, “Fuck, Mingi, you’re making me feel so hot…”

Mingi suddenly ceased all movement as a loading screen appeared inside his mind. “You were cold just a second ago.” He tilted his head, idly rubbing your arms and feeling how warm they were, before bringing his lips to your ear, his voice laced with concern when he asked, “Yeah, you feel really hot. You’re not getting a fever, are you, doll?” His eyebrows rose with concern, his lips forming a pout once again. “You kissed me a bunch before practice earlier – and, oh my god, babe, you sucked my dick. That’s like, direct contact, right?” He gasped, clasping a hand to his face, his concern almost borderline comical, but the poor frat boy was completely serious. “Do you think I’ll get a fever too now? I can’t miss practice!”

“No, baby, that’s not…” You bit your lip, too desperate to have him inside you to get annoyed. Turning around, you ran your hands up his torso, from his abdomen to his pecs, suggesting gently, “You know, a good way to get rid of a fever is to sweat it out, Min. Come with me.”

Once you led your boyfriend to the nearest empty bedroom, you shut the door and pushed him down onto the bed, licking your lips at the sight of him. Mingi was laying down on the mattress with his limbs spread out, his shirt just barely riding up past his hips, revealing his treasure trail. He observed his surroundings, taking note of the plushies sitting next to the pillows, before looking up at you with vague confusion. “This is San’s room. Why are we here?”

“Why do you think, baby?” you asked softly, kicking your heels off, prior to climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him, your body buzzing with anticipation.

Mingi gave you a sweet smile, running his fingers through his soft brown hair, slowly leaning his head against the firm pillow behind his head. “You want to sleep?”

“No, baby…” you started, straddling his lap and gazing down at him with love and lust in your hooded eyes, your hand settling on his broad chest. “I want to play…”

Mingi admired you, slowly running his hands from your thighs up to your waist, taking your words literally like he usually did. “Like Legos? I think Seonghwa has some in his room.”

You couldn’t possibly get mad at Mingi, finding it adorable how incredibly dense he was. It was a good thing he had such a thick skull; it would definitely prevent him from getting any more head injuries whenever he collided with another player on the field. It was probably time to stop being coy and just tell him what you wanted point blank. No nuance. No hints. Just your raw desire.

“I want to ride your cock, Min. So bad. All night I’ve been thinking about you stretching me out,” you admitted, biting the tip of one of your fingers. Your thighs pressed into his hips, your core throbbing at the thought of impaling yourself on his oversized dick for the sake of being filled by your favorite football player. “Please, Min. I’ve been such a good girl.”

The cogs moved inside Mingi’s head for a moment, then his eyes lit up, his lips forming a wide grin. “Is that why you were rubbing all over me back there? Why didn’t you just say that, baby? You know I’m bad at taking hints.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your dress off of yourself and tossing it onto the comforter, revealing you only had a small, lacy pair of panties on. “I should’ve just bent myself over the kitchen counter and asked you to fuck me dumb in front of your friends, huh? They’d like a little post game show, don’t you think?”

Mingi groaned at the thought of railing you while his friends gave him pointers from the sidelines, growing hard underneath you. “You’re so hot, baby. So hot and so slutty for me.” He reached down to unbuckle his belt, popping it open, just for your greedy hands to do the rest of the work, eventually pulling his long, veiny cock out.

Since you’ve been dripping pretty much the entire night, you were confident that you could take your boyfriend’s dick for a ride without needing lube. “You want me to bounce on your big cock, Min?” you asked sweetly, rubbing your soaked cunt back and forth across his dick, hearing him let out a small moan instead of a groaning sound. “Hm? Or do you want to fuck me senseless and make me cum all over your friend’s sheets?”

“Please, ride my dick, baby…” he murmured, starting to whine from your change of pace, feeling your pussy slipping and sliding all over his sensitive spots, the tip beginning to leak pre-cum. “Pleaseeee, I need it so bad. I need it so fucking bad.”

"Mmm, I suppose you've had enough, Min." You slid yourself to the tip and lifted it up just enough to begin pushing it inside, whimpering from being stretched out so intensely. Lowering yourself inch by inch, you ran your hands up underneath Mingi's shirt, lifting it up to see the defined softness of his pecs, grabbing and squeezing them.

Mingi arched his back slightly, biting and tugging at his lower lip when you finally bottomed out, the both of you moaning in unison. "Ride me, baby. Come on," he whined impatiently, running his hands over yours, guiding them down along his abs, enjoying the way your warm hands felt on his skin.

"Give me a minute," you replied in a strained voice, taking in a few deep breaths, waiting for the low burning sensation to subside.

Mingi lifted his hand up to press against your lower stomach, feeling the hard outline of his cock. "Baby's so full of me. You're such a good girl for taking my cock like this."

Something inside you switched, encouraging you to begin fucking yourself on his length, moaning, "Yeah, I'm a good girl...such a good girl for you, Min..."

"Yeah, you are," he exhaled, grabbing you by your hips and waiting for each moment you dropped yourself down to thrust himself into your tight hole, your breathy, high-pitched moans like music to his ears. "Fuck, I can feel you throbbing. It's so good, isn't it, doll?"

"So fucking good," you agreed, your lower half already starting to feel heavier, the feeling of getting pounded into by something so large and thick sending you into a state of bliss. "You're gonna make me cum soon..."

Suddenly, the door behind you swung open, and three distinct voices could be heard talking amongst themselves. "So, you're telling me your bong is in that mess on the floor?" Yunho questioned, pointing to the floor, trying to ignore what was going on in the middle of the room, the tips of his ears red and burning.

"Yeah, hold on." San walked into his room like it was just another day and stood near the two of you, giving Mingi a high five when he put his hand out. It must've been a regular occurrence with your boyfriend's previous partners. Personally, you were so dick-drunk, you didn't even care that San was studying the way your tits bounced along with your movements.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, sweetheart," San said, giving you a suggestive smile, before bending over to pick up a few articles of clothing and throwing them to the side, searching for his bong underneath the chaos.

Mingi continued to drill himself into you, his cock throbbing heavily inside you due to being watched by his friends, opting to grab both of your wrists and hold you down, not letting you move at it, forcing you to take everything he was giving you. "Baby likes being watched, huh? Is Baby gonna cum from being a little attention whore?"

"Uh-huhhh..." You kept your eyes locked on his, making small whimpers each time he pounded into you, tears forming inside your eyes from having an audience.

"Goddamn..." San mumbled underneath his breath, already holding his bong inside his hand, but staying still, mesmerized by the way your ass routinely bounced when Mingi’s cock slammed inside of you. Seonghwa and Yunho were in similar situations, leaning on each other and watching the both of you with dilated eyes, wondering how the hell Mingi’s giant cock somehow fit inside your small frame without splitting you open.

"I'm...about to cum, doll." He caressed your cheek, wiping a few escaping tears, before glaring at San. "Get out of here, okay? I didn't mind you watching, but you're not about to see me nut."

Disappointed, San let out a long sigh, making eye contact with you when you glanced over at him with barely open eyes, your orgasm building up inside you at a rapid rate. "Maybe next time I can watch you two cum," he mused, only leaving the room with his friends when Mingi grabbed one of the plushies on the bed and tossed it at San's head.

Mingi, still holding your cheeks, pulled you down on top of him, slotting his lips onto yours, his hips still moving at a feverish, somewhat sloppy pace. "Cumming," he mumbled into your mouth, listening to your many muffled cries, slowly pumping his cum into your abused hole.

You melted against him, your body going completely lax, your cunt pulsing heavily, as your arousal poured out of you and dripped past Mingi's inner thighs, seeping into the comforter beneath. "So good...that was so good..." you slurred, even though you weren't drunk from the alcohol.

"I'm glad Baby likes getting dicked down so much," Mingi mused, his voice low and gravelly, reveling in the post-orgasm bliss, rubbing your back in circles. His hand suddenly went stiff, giving you a concerned look.

You pushed a few wet strands behind your ear, tilting your head to the side. "What's wrong, Min?"

He gave you a small pout, his eyebrows drawn together. "My nose feels kind of stuffy.”

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FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #mingi x you #kpop smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez drabbles #ateez oneshot #kpop fanfic #february filth fest

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blasphemecel · 2 months

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Michael Kaiser — Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Angst, Post-break up WARNING(S): Don't read if you're sensitive to medical stuff, also tw for KAISER-TYPICAL MELODRAMA

“Are you fucking kidding me? That just sounds made up.”

“Sir,” the doctor, who’s been having to deal with Kaiser acting like the hospital is a debate club for the past fifteen minutes, says. Then he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, he does not want to deal with this. “While there’s an existing argument about the classification of broken heart syndrome, it is a real thing that happens. And you have it as we’ve deduced.”

“I don’t have health problems,” Kaiser says. Of course, those words fly out of his mouth without trouble even when Ness had to call an ambulance on him and everything, since he looked like he was on the brink of death today at practice. “Much less from bullshit reasons like a broken heart.”

“You don’t need to take it literally. That’s just the name. The trigger for the stress varies from case to case.”

Kaiser hopes his defensive statement didn’t reveal anything too personal, and decides to throw off any suspicion by staring down at his lap while frowning like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. At least the doctor doesn’t seem to care because he’s not prying for unnecessary details. Not yet, anyway.

“For how long have you been ignoring the symptoms?”

“I haven’t been ignoring anything,” Kaiser says.

Sure, he was dizzy a few (many) times and short of breath, and disregarded it. And while he can sense the tightness and pain in his chest each time, a recurring physical and tangible ache, Kaiser interprets the experience as some kind of metaphor for the figurative stabbing he was a victim of. The arrhythmia is a natural indignant response to whenever your irritating face pops up in his imagination, since you’re the perpetrator.

All this over some shitty break up. While it’s stupid for someone whose career is in sports to shrug off such obvious signs, until today Kaiser never truly thought it was serious enough to warrant such an overreaction from his body. You shouldn’t have this much power over him. He’s going to kill you next time he sees you for doing this to him.

He’s deep in denial and the grave he’s been digging with his stupid lies is shallow in contrast, inefficient. Can’t even deceive himself.

“It’s most common in people over fifty.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“What I’m saying is, I assume you’ve been ignoring this for some time and it escalated to a bad attack. So, do you recall if you’ve gone through severe stress recently? Anything traumatizing even, either physically or mentally? When was it? If you could be exact, that’d be helpful.”

Traumatizing? Traumatizing? Is this man fucking kidding him right now?

Kaiser stares at the doctor as if he’s the stupidest person alive. Forget a person, he is a bug for such a suggestion. Through grit teeth, he relents, “There was something two weeks ago. By the way, it wasn’t traumatizing! That’s ridiculous.”

What’s even more absurd is the notion Kaiser wouldn’t know how much time has passed with perfect accuracy. Fourteen days he hasn’t been sleeping well, hugging his pillow and crying like a loser, cursing you, wanting you back, both a worshipper and a heretic.

What was he feeling at that moment, when you broke things off? Was it overwhelming anger which got him to this point? Though he’s been reliving the moment over and over, Kaiser still can’t identify it. Just something intense zapping him through his veins, a devastating shock, a surge of adrenaline. But surely it was resentment at your audacity to throw him away like disposable trash? He doesn’t like the thought that he’s been so pathetically sad, he got sick because of it, so this is what he’ll go with.

Thinking about it is enough to make him start picking at the skin on his neck like he’s trying to peel the ink off. It’s almost vile. At least he retains the common sense not to squeeze it in front of a medical professional who can send him away to a psych ward with ease.

The doctor, too, looks at Kaiser like he is an insane person. Good thing they pay him enough for this — otherwise, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with having a strange man with a bizarre haircut give him attitude over his diagnosis when it should be reserved for his barber or whoever is responsible.

“Two weeks ago, okay,” he says, writing it down. “Lucky for you, this is temporary and reversible unlike most other things we checked you for. You’ll be fine in about two months with the treatment.”

“So, like I thought, it’s not a big deal. I can still play football, right? Don’t need to lay off or anything?” Kaiser asks.

The doctor sighs. Again. He wants to measure the circumference, thickness and density of Kaiser’s skull. “You’re not listening,” he says, clearly exasperated, but still trying to exert patience. “Your heart is weak and not functioning properly at the moment. You can’t immediately jump back into living the way you usually do. It’s still serious no matter what you say and it can cause complications.��

Kaiser makes an annoyed expression like this is all one big inconvenience rather than a threat to his quality of life. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m honored you seem to think I’m a hilarious comedian, sir, since this is your nth time asking, but it’s not the case,” he says levelly.

“Don’t get clever with me.”

A sharp inhale through the nose and the doctor’s back on track, maintaining a feeble grasp on his inner peace, at least enough not to snap. Then, after this brief recollection, he reaches out to grab something, then holds it up. It’s a picture that looks either like an abortion-to-be or a black and white photo of lasagna… maybe. “This is your heart.”

Kaiser almost forgot about the ultrasound or whatever since he was strung out and sedated- relaxed throughout that whole ordeal. At the sight of it now, always theatrical, he decides the best course of action is to wrinkle his nose and say ‘eww,’ even though he’s not squeamish. But treating the matter seriously means admitting he has a problem, and he can’t have that.

The doctor pretends he can’t hear anything and points at the relevant area with his finger to illustrate the crux of the matter better. “You have apical ballooning. Do you get it? Even if it’s temporary, you can’t treat it lightly. So-”

Kaiser tunes out the rest of the explanation. Blah, blah, he could harm himself, very original. His gaze is stuck on the echocardiogram, though, and this time he’s nauseous for real, the tiniest bit. It strikes him as particularly ugly and deformed. Organs are repulsive to begin with, anyway, but this… thing is his, and he’s seeing it now. In any case, nothing so disgusting is worth loving or treating with care.

Is this how you’ve come to see him? What does Kaiser look like in your eyes? Ugly and maladjusted on the inside? Someone who likes laughing at other people’s misery, but can’t take even the slightest puncture? So out of touch with his emotions — and of his own volition —, he’s started experiencing them in the most visceral way possible. His desire for you: torment, a disease.

Would you find him dramatic? Maybe, but at least you’d make him laugh and smile and anything else his troubled mind has decided he needs at the moment, from you alone. Doesn’t matter, though. He’s not privy to that kind of thing, not anymore.

There’s a sting in his eyes and Kaiser wipes away his tears with a hasty swipe, though a few more stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about again.

The doctor observes the display with the distanced apathy of someone who’s watched people die and shit themselves.

He gets discharged with a prescription and elaborate instructions on how to go about his physical activities until it’s deemed he’s fully healed at the later check-ups.

Great. Pitiful.

___

What's funny is that Y/n's probably having a good day while all this is going on

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader

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hihello-pinky · 1 year

Text

Sight (3)

Suna Rintarou x F! Reader

Sometimes, it takes losing someone to finally see them. He wished he knew this before, but Rintarou had to learn this the hard way.

WARNINGS: mentions of abortion, mentions of suicide, smut (fingering, oral [f receiving], lack of protection, rough sex, creampie) please let me know if I missed any!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This in no way represents my views of the original anime/manga characters.

WC: 6.3k Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort Other Tags: Forced Marriage, Developing Relationship, Denial of Feelings, Emotionally Repressed, References to Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending, + more to be added.

Here’s the long-awaited part 3!. Thank you all for waiting and for the love and support!!! Kindly reblog and comment if you liked it! ALSO, I’m not sure how many parts are left.

part one part two part three part ?????

leave me love?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

“I don’t know what game you’re playing with you agreeing to my parents’ crazy demands but just so we’re clear, there’s only one ending to this fucking marriage: divorce.”

Suna watched as you squirmed in your wedding dress. The two of you had just arrived at the new house, and he already hated it. First, he hated how he had just been forced into marrying a girl he barely knew. Second, he hated how you’re acting as if you’re the victim of the whole ordeal when this wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you just agreed to get an abortion.

And lastly, he despised how you looked so damn beautiful in that wedding dress.

The fidgety and nervous girl during his wedding night is nowhere to be seen as you’re standing in that very same room, your eyes looking straightly at him and your voice firm as you repeat, “I want to file for divorce.”

“I heard you the first time,” he responds as he clicks his tongue. “But I won’t do it.” He’s trying to be careful, unsure of where you’re actually getting at. A few nights ago, you just confessed about being in love with him and now you want to divorce?

A small laughter leaves your lips, regaining his attention. “Rin,” you call his name and as usual, hearing that one syllable from you stirs something inside him. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’ll talk to your mom and dad, and I’ve already spoken with the family lawyer. We can always co-parent.”

“No.” Maybe if he’s not busy getting annoyed about your mind game, he’d have noticed how your eyes are squinting, how your fingertips are slowly rubbing against your temple. “There will be no divorce unless you explain to me everything about this sudden shit you’re pulling.”

“Rintarou, -”

“I’m so damn tired, Y/N!” What surprises Suna is not his sudden outburst. It’s the quick realization that for the first time in five years, he’s addressing you by your name. “Are you playing with me? You confess, you make me feel guilty, you make me want to apologize, but now you want to divorce!”

You shake your head, hoping that the action will also help in easing your headache. “Why are you reacting like this, Rin? Isn’t this something that you’ve wanted since day one?”

It’s the same question he has for himself. Sure, he entered the room ready to apologize for the past years and maybe try for any way to salvage the relationship you both have, but here you were, offering him the easy way out and yet he doesn’t want to accept it.

Instead of answering you, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “Listen, I don’t know what shit you’re pulling but I’m serious when I say I’m not signing any papers unless you talk to me and explain what the hell’s going on.”

“Rin, I’m tired,” you say as you sit on the bed dejectedly. “I’m so, so tired.” Your voice breaks at the last word as you bring your knees to your chest, hugging it before beginning to sob. This isn’t the first time that he’s witnessing you cry but the way the sobs come out of you as if they physically hurt and how your body is shaking... it’s a sight that he does not want to see.

Other times he would have chosen to leave you alone and his mind is currently shouting at him to go back towards the door and leave the room but his body is doing the exact opposite – his feet bringing him closer to you. The next thing he knows, he’s crouching down in front of you at the bed, hands hovering over you but not touching. “What is it?”

As soon as the question leaves him, he feels silly. How were you supposed to answer him when the sobs wracking out of your body barely stop? Suna rakes a hand through his hair, unsure of what to do. He looks up at the ceiling in frustration. “Fuck, Y/N, tell me what’s the matter. Why the hell are you asking for a divorce out of the blue? Is this because of what happened a few nights ago?”

“I’m scared.” Your small voice surprises him. “I’m scared, Rintarou.”

He diverts his eyes back on you but your face is still buried behind your knees. “Look at me.”

He watches as you slowly acquiesce and the broken look on your face tugs at his heart. Your eyes resemble shattered glass and it’s as if all the broken shards are piercing through his chest at the moment. “I’m scared.” A hiccup. “I’m so damn scared.”

Suna shakes his head as he gazes at you, seemingly unable to break the eye contact despite the feelings it’s currently bringing him. “I don’t understand.”

Tears well in your eyes again as you begin to explain with a shaky breath. “I went to the hospital a few days ago to get checked about my recurring headaches and blackouts. I received the test results yesterday and they don’t look good. I’m so scared, Rintarou.”

Every word that escapes from your mouth makes his heart feel heavy. “Then why are you asking for divorce?”

You’re silent for a while as you break eye contact and he can tell that you’re carefully deliberating your words. The suspense is making him feel uneasy but he also knows he can’t force and rush you. “I’ve always known there’s a possibility that it would happen to me too. But then, Doctor Hirai said that its progression is mainly stress-induced. I need to be in an environment which will be better for my mental and subsequently, my physical health. More importantly, I’m scared that what I will go through will hurt the children in the long run.”

“So, you prefer that you’d suffer alone?” He asks without thinking.

At that, you turn to face him again and smile sadly. “I’d still suffer alone even if we remain married, right? At least once we separate, I’ll be in a much healthier environment. We won’t have to pretend in front of the children anymore. You’ll have your freedom and I’ll have my peace.”

Suna can feel himself frowning, knowing how there’s truth in what you just said. He sighs deeply before speaking, choosing his words carefully. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, his attempt frustrating him. In the end, he settles for three words instead. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

--- *** ---

Hearing those words from your husband makes your heart clench. You bite your trembling lower lip and close your eyes, finally letting the tears fall once again. You hated this. You hate having Rintarou see you cry.

What happens next surprises you. You feel gentle fingers wiping away your tears, the touch soft and delicate. You crack your eyes open and convince yourself you must be dreaming.

“I know this is long overdue and it can’t undo all the things I’ve put you through in the last few years, but I’m really, really sorry. For being a horrible person, for being a terrible husband, for being a bad dad... I’m sorry for what I did a few nights ago.”

You hear the unspoken truth from his last sentence: I’m sorry I can’t reciprocate your feelings. Instead of dwelling on it too much, you try to wipe your tears. “You weren’t much of a bad father,” you say and see how his eyes slightly widen in surprise. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate how you’re trying to be a good dad to the kids.”

A frown makes its way to your husband’s handsome features before he scoffs bitterly. It makes your heart clench. “Why do you have to be so kind?” He asks quietly and then looks at your face as if searching for something. “I’ve been such a horrible person to you and here you are, telling me that I wasn’t a bad father to our children.”

Your heart softens a bit at his words as new tears start to pool in your eyes. “I’m just speaking the truth, Rin.” He’s still studying your face and you look at his in return. This is the first time you’re both staring at each other like this again; the last being those five months that you two were on good terms. “It gives me comfort, knowing that you’ll continue to be a good dad to Risa and Ryuu once we separate.”

At that, the frown that has dissolved from his face returns, and in a much stronger note. “I still don’t think having a divorce is necessary. It will not do much and that word may even bring trauma to the kids.” It’s amazing how quickly you’re able to understand where Rin was coming from. And almost immediately, you’re brought back to that day.

You watched as Rin was almost done watering the newly-planted seedlings in the backyard. A week prior, you had shyly asked him if it’s okay to have a small garden and without much thought, he agreed. You wanted to do the task yourself but he had insisted he do it instead, saying something along the lines of Jiri scolding him if she ever finds out he let a pregnant woman do a laborious task.

So, there you sat on one of the newly-bought reclining chairs, watching as Rin worked. It’s been a few weeks since the both of you started to be on good terms and the more you got to know him, the more it became harder for you to ignore how handsome your husband truly was. Especially at that moment, with him wearing loose sweats and a thin plain white shirt, arms flexing as he held the watering host.

After more minutes of trying to distract yourself from staring at Rintarou, he turned the water system off and went to join you, taking the vacant recliner beside you. “It’s crazy how my parents didn’t even think of having some work done on the backyard, considering all the efforts that were made in the house’s interior.”

You looked at the backyard and imagined how it would look like once your garden blooms. “Maybe they wanted to at least give you the chance to decorate it as you want?”

He let out a dry laugh and then straightened on his seat. “Then, I want to have a small playground there.” You trailed where his finger was pointing and saw that he was referring to a corner of the yard.

“A playground?” you asked, surprised that he would even suggest one. You both had been careful with the topic about your children and what would happen after they were born, and this was the first time that he was bringing up something related to it.

“Just a slide and a swing set would do, to be honest.” His eyes were still trained on that same spot, as if he’s already picturing the item he’s planning to place there. You hummed in response, savoring the peaceful silence that was beginning to take over.

Rintarou was the one to break it. “Who in your family is a twin?”

You blinked at him in surprise. “Oh, um, my dad.”

He nodded, taking in the information. “And you have siblings?”

“Yes,” you answered softly. “Two step sisters. I’m the middle child.” He turned to you and as expected, there was question in his eyes already. “My mother died shortly after I was born. When I was around ten years old, my dad re-married.” You looked at the corner that Rintarou had pinpointed for the playground. “She was a lovely lady, my step-mom. I just wish my father had met her earlier. It would have been nice to grow up with both parents around.”

The scoff that left Rin’s mouth surprised you. It was your turn to look at him with curiosity. His jaw clenched a little before he spoke. “My parents were mostly absent while I was growing up. I’m an only child and since my parents both settled on a city away from their hometowns, I never got to develop a relationship with my other relatives and children in playgrounds never seemed fond of me.

“You know what the best part is?” He spat the word “best” and it almost made you flinch. “The times they would spend with me would always end up with them threatening each other to just divorce and I would just be there, having a front-row seat in watching their fights.”

He was silent after that as you stared at him. You couldn’t imagine the parents that Rintarou was referring to was the same sweet couple who apologized to you on behalf of their son during the first time you met. But then again, you knew part of the reason they forced the marriage was because they wanted to punish him. You picked your words carefully. “I couldn’t imagine how difficult that was for you. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Rin only shrugged. “Don’t worry. I got accustomed to it quickly. Whenever they would fight, I just had to show them some achievement from school and they’d be all happy and proud and forget that they were just about to rip each other’s heads off a few seconds before. It was an effective study tool, I guess.”

You frowned at his sarcasm, picturing a young Rintarou working hard on his studies, hoping to appease his fighting parents.

You close your eyes as you try to compose yourself. No matter how long it has been, no matter how many times you remember that afternoon, the memory still hurts you. “Rin, I understand your sentiments and I don’t want to invalidate your feelings and experience. But you should know that it’s not the same situation. Weren’t you the one who told me that our marriage is supposed to end in divorce?”

He sighs frustratedly. “You know damn well that that was anger-driven. It’s not the same now. I care for the kids and I don’t want them to get hurt. I don’t want them to have the same relationship I have with my parents.”

You truly do understand your husband and you know he has his reasons. But so do you. And between the two of you, it’s a fact that you’re the one who cares more about your children. So, with a deep breath, you share the part of your explanation that you omitted earlier. “Rin, I’m about to lose my sight.”

--- *** ---

“I don’t understand, aren’t pregnant women only supposed to have cravings for food?” Suna asked as soon as the traffic light turned red. It was eight minutes past ten in the evening and you had just left the mall after completing a buzzer-beater shopping for an item that you swore won’t allow you go to sleep if it weren’t in your hands.

The item in question being a copy of your favorite author’s latest book which you had asked him to pick up for you earlier that day. He had been busy at work and asked Yuto to buy the book instead. When he handed you the package once he got home, the delighted expression he expected on your face was nowhere to be seen and in its place was an irritated look. “This isn’t the correct edition; it’s the first one. What I want is the most recent release – the 10th anniversary edition with a special chapter!”

He was glad his years of playing volleyball in high school gave him good reflexes or else he wouldn’t have caught the book you threw to his face. “Okay, okay, I’ll ask for an exchange tomorrow.”

You had looked at him as if he had grown two heads. “Tomorrow? I won’t be able to sleep at all if I don’t get to read it tonight!”

He inwardly cringed at the sound of your loud voice. You were already in your sixth month of pregnancy and contrary to what Jiri had told him, your mood swings were still a menace to deal with. So, he checked his watch and with a heavy sigh, announced that he would make a quick trip to the bookstore. When you insisted to tag along to make sure he gets the correct edition, he didn’t put up a fight.

“It’s not like you can eat a book,” he mumbles irritably again, looking at the still-red traffic light. “And that saleslady was a bitch.”

Beside him, you just let out a hum as you sniffed the pages of your precious book. “You’re lucky the smell of new books is one of my favorite scents in the world. I’m feeling too happy to entertain your negative ramblings. God, I can’t wait to get under my comforter and begin reading this.”

You continued on with humming a soft melody. Rintarou sneaked a glance at you before the lights turned green. You had returned the book to the paper bag and the image of you hugging it to your chest as you looked out the window was enough to make him smile, something that he had been doing a lot since the two of you began spending a lot of time together.

When you arrived home, he quickly jumped in the shower as he assumed that you changed into night clothes and got under the comfort of what used to be his bed alone. The king-sized bed had become a place for two, ever since you had moved into the room some weeks prior. It didn’t even take him long to shower but by the time he joined you, you were already asleep, barely even able to get the book out of the paper bag.

After a quiet laugh, he carefully plucked it from your hands, placing it on the bedside table. He never enjoyed reading and couldn’t find the appeal in doing so; he’d much rather watch shows or play video games. However, when the two of you got to talking about things you enjoyed, you were so passionate about your love for books. It was your step-mom who had introduced you to it, you said, and it was a special bond between the two of you as your sisters weren’t readers.

Suna’s eyes softened as he recalled what else you had shared to him.

It was your step-mom who read books to your father all day and all night after he went totally blind. Then, it was subsequently you who read him books after she took her own life.

“That can’t be.” Suna is pretty sure that he misheard you. He shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe you need to get a second opinion.”

He’s quick to hate the look of defeat in your eyes. “I’m sure the results will be the same. I don’t want to get my hopes up only for them to be shortly crushed after. Please don’t make this harder for me anymore.”

When he replies to you, he hopes the frustration can’t be heard in his voice. “Okay, I won’t force you if you don’t want to. But, let me be there for you.” You give him a wide-eyed look, expression full of surprise. “I meant it when I said I’m sorry to you. I want to...” He sighs heavily, wanting to break eye contact but he steels himself to hold it. “I want to try. To actually try for this marriage to work. I know it may be too late and I’ve been such a dick and an asshole to you. And honestly, there are still a lot of things I need to process but let’s not make these big decisions abruptly, okay? I don’t want you nor the kids to suffer a lot.”

Suna figures this must be the most honest he’s been with you since the children were born. He just hopes you’ll give him a chance. However, he won’t even blame you if you decide not to trust his words.

You’re the one who breaks eye contact and don’t respond to him for a second, a minute... and when the silence lingers on, he carefully calls for you. “Y/N?”

He watches you close your eyes, as if preparing yourself for what to say next. When you open them, they’re welling up with tears but you give him a small smile that tugs at his heart. “For what it’s worth,” you say, “Doctor Hirai said that there’s a possibility that it can only be a temporary blindness since it got detected early.”

Suna doesn’t even hold back the sigh of relief that he lets out. He holds your hands and stands up from his position in front of you. You follow suit, making the two of you face each other. He’s so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck up while he looks down at you. There’s a barely noticeable smile on his lips. “We’ll get through this, Y/N.”

--- *** ---

“Hey, Y/N, you didn’t come here the past few weeks.” Hajime greets you as he arrives at where the parents sit in the playground. You both watch as Kenta joins Risa in the sandbox, her face brightening in joy.

“I think my daughter has a crush on your son,” you comment before turning to him. “Nice to see you, Hajime. I was, ah, quite busy in the last weeks.”

He hums in response and looks at all the kids playing. “Is Ryuu not feeling well today? I don’t see him around.”

Before you can respond, your son makes an appearance, and you notice a happy look on his face. This prompts you to look at the person who��s holding his hand only to find that Rintarou is already looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh,” Hajime says as he stands up from where he’s sitting beside you. “Rintarou, right? Risa and Ryuu’s father?”

Rin breaks eye contact with you as he looks at Hajime’s outstretched hand. He shakes it quickly. “Yeah, also Y/N’s husband.”

The awkward moment is shattered when Ryuu groans. “Dad! You’re squeezing my hand tightly!” Rin must have loosened his hold for your son pulls his hand away before looking at you. “Can I play now, Mommy?”

You’re about to nod when you notice something on the corner of his lips. You fight a smile and put on your ‘inquisitive mom’ look. “Why did it take you long to come here, Ryuu?”

His eyes, which looks so similar to his father’s, widen and he bites his lip, quickly shooting a look at Rin who you can tell is trying not to smirk.

“Ryuu?” You ask again.

He pouts and breaks. “We saw an ice cream man on the way from the restroom and Dad bought me a cone.” He bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “I’m sorry.”

You inwardly sigh before leaving the bench to crouch down and match your son’s height. “Isn’t ice cream time after we leave here? What would Risa feel when she finds out you ate ice cream without her?” Ryuu only gives you a guilty look and sensing that he’s about to cry, you ruffle his black hair and kiss his forehead. “Don’t do it again, okay? Now, go and play.”

He nods and mumbles a quick promise before he goes to play with some kids in the rows of see-saws. Once you see him off, you return to sit on the park bench. You see Hajime talking to the other parents a few meters away, not even noticing him leaving.

“He quickly excused himself the moment you bent down to talk to Ryuu,” Rin explains as he takes the place where Hajime had been seating. You’re surprised he even offers an explanation, remembering the venom in his voice the last time the two of you had been talking about your friend.

“I see.” You watch the children play. Ever since that talk in the bedroom three weeks ago, things have been slowly changing between you and your husband. So far, he has kept true to his words and you can see that he’s trying to make things work between you two. And part of it is that he wants to be more involved with your children. The twins had been excited this morning when they found out that their dad is tagging along to the playground.

“I saw Ryuu look longingly at the ice cream vendor but he told me he’s not supposed to get ice cream yet. I bought him a cone anyway and told him to tell you that the line in the restrooms was long.”

You swiftly turn to look at your husband incredulously. “Did you just tell my son to lie?”

He smirks and shrugs. “Don’t worry, it seems like he’s brought up well. He can’t lie at all.”

Still, the scandalized look on your face doesn’t go away. “Rintarou!”

The smirk doesn’t leave his face and does something that surprises you. He laughs. Not the condescending or hateful way he had laughed at you in the past five years, but a genuine laughter. Before you know it, his fingers are softly straightening the lines on your face. “Stop worrying too much, Y/N. The kids will be fine.”

--- *** ---

[ left the hospital already but dropping by osamu’s for some onigiri ]

[ ok. tell me when you’re home ]

[ okay ]

[ actually, don’t. i’ll just pick u up otw home. stay there for a while? ]

[ um, ok ]

[ cool ]

[ also, tell samu to stop being a fucking prick & resume talking to atsumu. i’m not their messenger for fuck’s sake ]

A small giggle leaves your mouth as you read Rintarou’s last message. Osamu looks at you curiously after he bids goodbye to a customer. “Usual order?”

You nod at him. “But can you prepare them for later? Quick change of plans, I’ll have some food for here first.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Waiting for someone?”

You shake your phone at him. “Rin says he’s picking me up.”

The way his eyes widen almost makes you laugh. “Really?” You know he must be confused, after all, you were just here a few weeks ago, looking as stressed as ever because of your husband.

“Yeah,” you suddenly feel like blushing so you look down at your phone instead. “He also says you should talk to Atsumu again because he’s getting tired of being your messenger.”

Osamu then laughs. “I bet you just censored all the curse words in his message.” The way you suppress a smile is telling enough. “I see you two are on some kind of truce? What happened?”

You contemplate for a while. Sacha is the only one you have confided to about the happenings of the past few weeks. But then again, Osamu has been nothing but nice to you and you figured it wouldn’t be a problem if you tell him about Rintarou’s resolve. “Well... Rin said he wants to try to make our relationship work.”

The gray-haired man is quiet for a while. “Did he now?”

“Yeah... Do you think it’s a bad idea, Osamu?”

The man shrugs. “Not at all. I mean, you look a lot better than you did the last time you were here.” His statement makes you smile. “So, I take it things have been different since then?”

You nod. “Yesterday, he tagged along to the kids’ weekly trip to the playground then after that, he took us to lunch in the mall and then went shopping the whole afternoon. Risa and Ryuu were so happy.”

Osamu almost drops the glass he’s been wiping and he sends you a strange look. “Today is Tuesday, no? So that makes yesterday a Monday?”

“Uh huh. Why?”

“And you’re saying Rin spent the day with you and the kids?”

You nod, not knowing where he’s getting at. You look at him quizzically and can tell that he’s trying hard to suppress a smirk. “What’s the matter, Osamu?”

Finally, the man lets out an amused chuckle. “Nothing,” he says as he begins preparing your food. “It’s just that if there’s one thing that Rintarou Suna is constant about ever since he started working, it’s that he never takes a day-off on a Monday.”

--- *** ---

Suna tells himself he’s not keeping track but it’s the fourth Friday in a row that he’s spending home. Usually, he’ll be out in some bar to drink and maybe look for a woman to bring to a close by hotel or to a bathroom, if he couldn’t wait. But ever since he has decided that he wants to try to work things out with you, he’s been skipping the routine.

He goes to your bedroom and sees it empty; you’re probably in the kids’ room. He takes that time to jump into the shower. Suna is a man with needs and missing his week’s end routine means one thing: he’s horny. Many times, he has been tempted to go back to his old way and ring someone for a booty-call. You didn’t need to find out and if you did, surely you would understand, right? Old habits die hard, after all. Whenever the temptation comes, he shakes his head and pushes the thought away, knowing that it’s a terrible idea to pursue.

So, he’s left with doing something that he never thought he would do again – getting himself off in the bathroom with his hands, like a pathetic lonely teenager.

Suna’s not sure how long it takes him in the shower. He’s afraid that his hand might not work for him anymore next time. It’s not helping that he’s spending more time with you, the girl that he has always found attractive, even during the times he hated you.

When he exits the shower, he finds you in bed already, leaning against the headboard as the blanket covers the lower half of your body. You’re wearing a silk set of pajamas and the strap of your top is sliding down on your shoulder. He gulps. He has taken you before, but why is he suddenly nervous?

“Are you okay?” Your voice breaks him out of his inner thoughts. You must have felt him staring at you because your eyes are still trained on your book as you ask him the question.

“Yeah...” He moves to the closet to grab a shirt and pair of shorts. He quickly changes into them and once he pulls the shirt over his head, his eyes meet yours looking at him.

A faint blush colors your cheeks as you return your gaze to your book. He finds himself smirking and decides to call you out. “You know, it’s completely normal for a wife to watch her husband changing.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He doesn’t speak until he’s on the bed beside you, getting a whiff of your sweet scent. He leans closer and tries to peek at your book. “What are you reading?”

He knows his closeness unsettles you for you quickly shut your book close. You turn to him instead and bites your lower lips as soon as you realize that there’s barely any distance between your faces. “Can you move, please?”

“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You squirm and Suna has to admit that he’s having too much fun with this. Sure, the past few weeks you’ve been spending a lot together has been good, but this is something different. There’s something about making you so flustered that makes him feel things he does not want to acknowledge yet. “I’ll take your silence as a yes, then.”

He’s about to move back, afraid that he might not be able to stop himself if he continues to tease you any longer, but before he can do so, you softly tug at his shirt. You’re not looking at him, your face turned away from him, but not enough to hide the redness on your face. “Hmm?”

“Rin,” the soft way you say his name almost makes him groan. “C-Can we...”

Fuck. Is this happening? “Yes, Y/N? Can we what?”

If it’s possible, your face reddens even more. “You know what I want to say.”

He chuckles and despite knowing he shouldn’t be taking too much pleasure from this, he does not relent. “I’m not actually sure. I need you to tell me exactly what you want, wife.”

You whimper at the word and finally say with a barely audible voice, “I want you, Rin.”

This time, Suna lets himself groan out loud as he tips your chin up so that you’re meeting eye to eye. “Are you sure, Y/N? I haven’t been with anyone since that day I shared my resolve to you. I’m not sure if I can be gentle at all.”

You nod quickly before speaking, your voice laced with desire. “Just take me, please, Rin.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s sucking marks on your neck, his hands quickly removing the covers from you. He ignores the thud of what he assumes to be your book hitting the floor. You’re just as eager as you tug at his shirt. He groans and removes the piece of clothing with the same urgency as you’re undressing yourself.

He maneuvers you so you’re lying completely on your back with him hovering over you, his lips busy alternating between your breasts. A sweet moan leaves your lips as his hand finds your damp center. He makes you come with his fingers alone before his lips are trailing down your body. The moment his tongue enters your pussy, you pull at his hair and the slight sting makes him growl.

“Please, Rin...” he feels you trying to close your legs and he slaps your thigh to keep you from moving. It seems to work as you stop and just continue to pull at his hair. It doesn’t take you long before an orgasm consumes you again and he laps at your release.

Suna pulls back and he watches you try to steady your breathing as he pumps his already hard cock. “Ready?”

The needy look you send him makes him groan. “Yes. Please, Rin. I need you.”

He growls out your name before sheathing himself inside you. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight.” He doesn’t start off slow, his thrusts already intense but it seems like you don’t mind it either as you’re continuously letting out your sweet and addictive moans. Your hands clench on the sheet and he takes them, placing them on his back. He groans at the feeling of your fingers scratching and he finds that he does not mind getting marked by you anymore.

Suna busies his lips on your neck and collarbone as his thrusts become harder and faster, sounds of your skin slapping together echoing in your room. “Feels so fucking good,” he pants against your ear, making you clench around him tighter. He gets ahold of your legs and press them against your chest before his hips move with powerful thrusts against you. You’re moaning endlessly now, but not loud enough to cover the creaking sound of the bed and the headboard meeting the wall.

Sensing that you’re nearing your release, Rintarou sneaks his hand in between your legs and plays with your clit, giving it the last push before you’re moaning out his name and coming around him. It doesn’t take him long to follow after you, his hips stilling as he comes inside you.

You’re both panting and it takes Suna a few moments to compose himself before he’s pulling out, the both of you letting out hisses at the sensitivity. He covers his eyes, chest still heaving, as he says, “Fuck. I really needed that.”

--- *** ---

You can’t help but giggle at Rin’s statement. You weren’t a very sexual person but you knew it must have been hard for him, especially since he told you he hasn’t been with anyone during the past few weeks. You’re still both panting and you half-dreaded for him to leave you alone like he usually does in the past after sex.

However, much like he’s been surprising you with his actions in the past weeks, his hand reaches for his shirt and wipes you down. He’s sitting upright on the bed and you feel his eyes on your still naked body. You see him bite his lip as he watches you, the desire still evident on his face. The way he’s looking at you gives you the confidence to reach down and stroke his half-hard cock. And with an innocent smile that you know he’ll be able to see through, you ask, “One more?”

As it turns out, Rin’s stamina and your neediness leads to two more. You now lay on the bed, already cleaned up and changed, your eyes closed. You know that you’re breathing is soft and Rin must have mistaken it for you already asleep for you feel him carefully leave the bed.

You discreetly watch as he opens the bedside table’s drawer and takes out his cigarette pack and lighter. The soft steps of his bare foot are barely heard as he makes his way to the terrace. As soon as the door slides shut beside him, you close your eyes.

Baby steps, you tell yourself. At least he waited until you fell asleep. And even though he still didn’t kiss your lips tonight, the fact that he gave you aftercare was enough. You know there are a lot of things that Rin has to work on and he had told you himself that it may take a long time before he can be someone that he himself can be proud of. “Baby steps,” you whisper to yourself again.

Unbeknownst to you, it’s the exact same words that the man outside tells himself as he lights up what he decides to be his last stick of cigarette ever.

TO BE CONTINUED.

taglist: @warrior-of-justice @alisa--things @wolffmaiden @kurookinnie @simp-nerd-16 @alex-is-100 @k4g3hika @harukaaaaa172993 @themoonreflectsthesun @lvjycrow @cantbedenied @sweetlikerockcandy @sirimiripetrichor @yamiakari-chi @noideawhothatis @nervouscoffeetaco @lovemyfamily4ever-blog nervouscoffeetaco kamukayakmonyet yuqixidle ieathairs cantbedenied gariben beomeomgyu esmeisdrunk-blog 123j456l iluv-ace semitje @justablogforreblogs

#suna x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #suna rintarou #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #suna smut #haikyuu #haikyuu suna

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kinq-sleazee · 1 year

Note

I had a thought out request then work got busy and now all I remember is mean over protective step brother, or best friend if you don’t like pseudocest, Bakugou scaring off all your dates without you knowing and telling you how you deserve better and he would never

hello @mhathotfic my love , sorry i’m responding so late— but i’m here now with smut !

MDNI | TW! College AU, Stepcest, Degradation

Your relationship with Bakugo has always been a odd. From the day your mom moved in with his dad, he’d developed a sick little obsession with you.

Nothing got past him. He swatted away any and all suitors—with you none the wiser.

Date after date would be canceled. Messages changing from blue to green. Guys actively avoiding you on campus and you had no idea why.

It would always lead you back to his dorm room. Straddling his lap and crying on his shoulder while he rubbed your back and cursed those “extras who could never be good enough for you”.

And your suki is so sweet to you. Saying that you’re so special to him and he doesn’t understand how those idiots could treat you so bad. Claiming that anyone would be lucky to have you and whispering that sometimes he wishes that you weren’t his sister so that he could have you for himself.

And he words it like a joke, in case you get spooked, but he’s dead serious. Staring you right in the eye as you chew on your lip while playing with the strands at the nape of his neck.

You’re a little shocked but you get it. It makes sense, y’know ? Who could love you better than the boy that’s protected and cared for you since middle school? The man that makes you feel like the only girl in the world.

He blinks twice when he hears you little voice say, “m’not really your sister”. Lips curling over his teeth in a wicked sneer.

“Hah?” He raises a brow, hands slowly falling to rest at your waist. “What’s that ? You’re not my imouto? My sweet girl ?”

Bakugo rolls his hips experimentally, pleased with the exasperation huff you give at the brief contact.

“m’just sayin’, we’re not really brother and sister” you whine, face heating at the implication of your words.

Were you really suggesting this ? Are you so desperate that you’d stoop so low ?

Bakugo feigned a gasp. A pout formed on his lips that juxtaposed the glimmering lust in his eyes.

“So after all we’ve been through…”, he began, hands traveling under your skirt to rest on your bare thighs. “After all we’ve been through. I’m not really your brother because you really want some dick ?”

The vulgarity startled you. You tried to deny but it fell on deaf ears as his fingers ventured closer to your moist heat.

“Are you really getting wet on my lap ?” His face is stern but there’s amusement in his tone. Your ears burn at the accusation, which you vehemently deny. This time your denial is met with a mean pinch to your plush thigh. “Now you’re lying to me ? What’s got into you What happened to my good girl ?”

A broken whimper leaves you. You’ve never felt this desperate for anything. You want to be a good girl but you just want him so bad.

“ I am your good girl, suki. I promise”.

“Tch” Bakugo shakes his head, admiring the way your lip trembles when he pinches you harder. “You’re not a good girl” he coos, moving closer to kiss the tear sliding down your cheek. “You’re a whore, imouto. A desperate slut for nii-chan’s cock”.

Your panties are pulled to the side and a single digit swipes through the mess of slick arousal. Bakugo whistles lowly, dragging your sticky wetness to press at your clit.

“Is this what you wanted, baby” He pouts up at you, mimicking your expression. You nod, nails digging into the skin of his broad shoulders.

“More, suki” you whine, grinding against the pad of his thumb. “wan’ sum more please”.

He shushes you and presses a soft kiss to your lips. Then another. And another until his tongue is pushing through the seam of your lips in time with his finger diving knuckle deep into your cunt. He grunts at your tightness, but continues kissing you while working you open.

The flat of his tongue collects the sweat beading on your neck, just as a second finger enters you. He curls them upwards, rubbing against your velveteen walls.

“Taking my fingers real good, baby. So proud of you right now” he whispers in your ear before nibbling on the lobe. You gush around him, pussy spasming from the ruined quality of his voice as he praises you. The fact that he looks absolutely wrecked, and you haven’t even touched him properly sends you hurtling towards your orgasm. A few more pumps and you’re met with the most euphoric orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

He works you through it. Pumping into you slowly as your body vibrates around him and your breathing settles. He pulls out and taps his fingers on your lips, humming when you drunkenly take them in your mouth.

He keeps you like this for a moment. Just rubbing against your tongue until saliva pools in your mouth and spills from the side.

Bakugo knows that you’re getting working up again by the cute little scrunch of your brow and the way you drag your cunt over his thigh. So desperate to get fucked. His dick feels unbreakable.

With his free hand he pulls out his cock and lowers your head to drool on it. You’re pushed off his lap and placed between his legs. Mean cock bobbing in your face.

“If you want nii-chan to fuck you , then you have to get on your knees and beg”.

#this was fun to write #I’m a little out of practice #so bear with me #♛♚|the king speaks #mha x reader #mha x black reader #mha smut #mha bakugo smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo x black reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #Katsuki Bakugo

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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months

Text

ain't no rest for the wicked - chapter three

ain't no rest for the wicked series

three: been sinnin' in this city

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

Tess Servopoulos x f!reader x Joel Miller

words: 5.7k

summary: Tess and Joel go AWOL for a while, but return with a gift.

warnings: dark-ish Joel and Tess, smuggler!Joel, smuggler!Tess, boston QZ, QZ life, poorly negotiated d/s-style dynamics, poor communication, enthusiastic consent, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v, degradation, stalking, canon-typical violence, threesome, cum eating, light rope bondage, cloth gag, spanking, punishment, sub drop, aftercare, strap-on, anal sex, rimming, light angst, edging, orgasm denial

IMPORTANT NOTE: I have updated the warnings on the masterlist to reflect that this has a bittersweet (imo) ending. It's not a happily ever after. Please feel free to DM me if you want to know spoilers before you decide if you will continue reading.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Soon” doesn’t quite happen. It’s a month before you hear from them.

Honestly, you had forced yourself to accept that it was over. Maybe Joel coming over alone was crossing a line.

Not that it stops you from looking over your shoulder or getting your hopes up when you come home. But there isn’t even a moment where you feel watched from afar. You consider drawing a line of flour across your threshold, but you have a feeling it’d be undisturbed when you get back, no matter if they came or not.

The disappointment sits bitter at the base of your throat.

That is, until you get home one evening, soaked from head to toe in sleet, and Tess is in your apartment.

When you walk in, you’re too busy trying to get your soaked boots and coat off with minimal sludge on your floor to notice. But when you do, you jerk so fast you nearly slide on the wet floor, falling back against the door.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, trying to recover from the embarrassing screech.

“Joel was right. You really ain’t got a sense of your surroundings, huh?”

“Not in my own home! M’not supposed to have to—“

She smirks.

Not that you notice; too distracted by where she’s lounging. It’s your bed but also it very much is not.

Your mattress is set up on a wooden frame. It’s not fancy, just unstained boards, but it looks well-crafted and sturdy.

“Um,” you say.

“Gonna come try it out?”

“What?”

“Don’t you like it, sunflower?”

“I-I do, I’m just—“

“I told you, we’ll take care of you.” The smirk is gone, now. She’s startlingly serious.

“You said when I’m at yours,” you say.

“Did Joel not take care of you while he was here?”

“No, he did, I—“

She sits up and grabs your wrist, tugging you over. You follow easily, acquiescing when she pulls you on the bed and manhandles you…

(womanhandles you? Are you failing feminism? Where does the movement stand at the end of the world?)

… until you’re laying beside her with your head on her stomach.

“Isn’t this more comfortable?” she says.

She’s so soft, and she smells so good. You’re a little unfocused between taking deep breaths and curling your arm around her waist. “Yes, ma’am,” you say.

She grins. “Good girl.”

For a moment, you are both content to lay there. It really is comfortable. Soon, though, you’re pressing absentminded kisses to her stomach and nuzzling her breasts.

She rubs her hand up and down your back.

Your hand twitches near the hem of her shirt. “Um,” you mumble, anxious fingers fiddling with the folded fabric.

She lifts just enough to tug it off, going after yours in nearly the same motion. Your mouth waters.

She snaps your bra strap. “Off.”

You scramble to obey, not even bothering to unhook it but yanking the old, worn cotton over your head and tossing it to the floor.

She grins at your over-eagerness, but you barely notice, unabashedly focused on her tits.

“Please,” you whisper.

She nods, and before she can voice the answer, you find yourself clinging to her.

Huh.

Funny.

You had meant to latch your mouth around her nipple, but you’re practically climbing her to get close.

Her skin against yours feels like heaven. The creeping loneliness that burrowed into your bones hurts more than ever. At the same time, though, it’s beginning to bleed out.

She gasps softly as your nails dig into her side. Not enough to hurt but enough that she seems to recognize your desperation.

“I know, sunflower. I’m sorry,” she murmurs, holding you tight, just on the right side of painful. But you need it. The twinge in your ribs is giving you more comfort than you’ve known in weeks.

You nuzzle into her chest, placing kisses across her skin that swiftly shift from soft to sloppy. You suck and lick at any inch you can reach, finally mouthing your way to her breasts. Every brush scatters sparks across your shoulders and between your ribs, leaving you shuddering and gasping against her.

She moans as you lave at each hardened bud, and holds your head with an unforgiving grip when you suckle at one. Her back arches, pushing the fat of her breast into your face.

You don’t mind. Oxygen doesn’t seem super important right now. Her other hand has captured one of your own nipples, and she pinches and tugs harshly, her moans drawn out when you whimper against her.

She laughs, and it’s on the edge of cruel, but you’re unbothered.

“Look at you,” she teases. “So fuckin’ needy, huh?”

You hadn’t even realized, but you’ve thrown a leg over hers and are rocking your hips against her thigh.

“M’sorry,” you pant, after pulling off her breast with a lewd pop. You go to move away.

“Don’t stop; it’s cute,” she says, guiding you by the back of your head to her other breast.

Heat spreads across your face but also through your spine until it pools between your thighs. Fuck it, your brain decides, before it turns off for the day.

You’re gasping as you mouth at her, your panties dragging against your clit as you grind.

She slides her hands down and tugs at them, and you quickly lift and help her wiggle them off before sliding down to dispose of hers.

You had planned on returning to her tits and maybe trying to make out, but now that you’re down here, making out with her pussy seems like a much better idea.

You press a soft kiss to her thigh and look up at her, but she surprises you and reaches her hand out to pull you back up.

She guides you, pushing and pulling your pliant limbs where she likes. You let go of the knots anxiety tied to hold you stiff and quiet, a tug behind your ribcage urging you to give in, give up, give everything to Tess.

Something hazy and lax trickles through your veins—it doesn’t go unnoticed, either.

“There you go,” she croons as you gaze up at her.

You didn’t even really notice her laying you down or getting on top of you, but you don’t think about it for long because her knee slides up to your core, grinding until it pushes against your clit.

She catches your moan in a kiss just as she settles her cunt against your thigh.

The feeling of her heat on your leg sends your hips canting against the relentless pressure of her knee. As you squirm and buck, your thigh moves against her, and she moans, biting at your lips until they part with a gasp.

She’s less rough with you than Joel but no less commanding. Her hands grip true and firm, and one winds its way around your neck to squeeze at the sides as she kisses you. You can’t tell which makes you dizzier, but either way, you writhe beneath her just the way she intended.

“I know you’re his,” she murmurs against your swollen lips. “But you’re mine, too, ain’tcha?”

You nod frantically, or at least to the best of your ability, trapped as you are. She eases up a little to let you gasp. You manage to squeak out a “yes, ma’am,” before she increases the pressure again. You’re squirming now, each wriggle of your body bringing you together in a rush of warm, wet ecstasy.

“That’s right,” she says before releasing your throat and focusing her attention on grinding against you. “You wanna cum, sunflower?” Her finger tweaks your nipple.

You reach for her breasts with one hand, the other settling on her thigh, where she’s spread across you. “Want you to,” you pant.

“Oh, I plan on it,” she says. Her smirk is intoxicating, and so is the way her hair falls around her face while she looks down at you. “But you’re gonna cum now.”

Her voice permits no choice, and she jerks her knee against your cunt. The shock and delicious pain of it have you obeying immediately, with her not far behind.

She, at least, has the sense of mind to cover your mouth with her hand. When she’s coming down from her high, she slides it slightly to cover your nose, too.

“Cum again, baby,” she says.

You cling to her with bruising fingers as you cum, and everything goes fuzzy and gray. She pulls her hand away at the last second, rolling her hips against your leg until she cums again, too.

“Please,” you sob.

She doesn’t need you to explain, just rolls back until you can pull your leg out from under her and lunge, burying your face between her thighs.

Her nails scratch against your scalp, and she gasps when you suck on her swollen clit. She lets you lick and draw two more orgasms out of her before she pulls you away from her cunt.

“No more,” she scolds when you whine. “I don’t wanna be sore tomorrow when you come over.”

“Oh, am I coming over tomorrow?” you tease.

“Well, I just said you were, didn’t I? Don’t be late.”

You frown, something too close to a pout, when she rises from the bed and pulls her clothes back on.

“I know,” she says softly, pinching your chin. “You be good and get some sleep, okay? You’re gonna need it.”

She pauses, looking at your bathroom door. “You really got mice in there on purpose?”

You bury your face in your hands and nod. “I can scare ‘em off if you need it.”

She snorts and shakes her head, something almost fond in her eyes, something that will haunt you. “Nah, leave ‘em be.” With one last kiss to your forehead, she slips out of the door.

You hesitate, but get up and lock all the locks behind her.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t expecting Joel to be outside your work. He isn’t, though. You hesitate for a minute, wondering if it means you shouldn’t go over after all.

In the end, your cunt makes the call, and you find your way to their apartment successfully. Look at that, you think. You were paying attention, after all. They never need to know you knocked on two wrong doors first.

Tess opens the third door and smiles. You flush immediately and give her a soft smile back, slipping inside and toeing off your boots. Once you set your bag by the door, you sink onto your knees. It’s all you could think about at work, and you don’t have the strength to fight the urge.

She ruffles your hair. “Look how good you are, pretty girl.”

Your eyes close briefly at the praise, and you look up at her. The fluorescent yellow bulb is obscured behind her head, warmth framing her like a halo.

“Unfortunately, Joel’s not been so good today, sunflower. You’re going to help me remind him how, okay?”

She gives you a hand and doesn’t let go after you stand, leading you into the bedroom. You freeze, though, when you see Joel tied to the bedposts with short lengths of rope and a bandana shoved in his mouth.

He squeezes his eyes tight when he sees you like he can block out the way your eyes are wide and brows furrowed. The shame burns across his body, but more than that, he aches to wipe the concern off your face.

So, he opens his eyes and forces himself into something calm. Accepting. He twitches two fingers against his bond to beckon you.

“Go ahead,” Tess gives you a little shove.

Logically, you know he submits to her. You’ve seen it. But it’s never been like this, never been him restrained or suffering.

He’s usually more like a devoted beast, content to kiss the hand that feeds.

Either way, you go to him and obediently duck so he can cup your face to the best of his ability. You press a kiss to his palm before looking to Tess.

“Someone here decided he couldn’t wait and jerked himself off in the shower this morning, even though you were comin’ over,” she says.

You look at Joel, baffled by the way you almost feel… hurt? It doesn’t make sense, but Tess’s tone seemed to imply you should.

She laughs at the look on your face. “Told ya,” she says to Joel. She comes up behind you, one arm slung across your collarbone and the other hand curling under your chin to grip your jaw. “Little slut’s disappointed.”

You, as always, burn for her amusement.

“Ain’t that right? You woulda been willing to help him out, huh?” she asks. Her grip on your jaw jerks your head up and down even as you’re whimpering, “Yes, ma’am.”

He spits the bandana out. “Told you, I wouldn’t have lasted. Had to take the edge off.”

Oh, she knows. She had come home last night and stroked his cock while telling him all about her visit. She hadn’t let him cum, then, either.

“That’s not for you to decide,” she says, letting you go so she can stuff his mouth full again. “Guess you gotta learn.”

She turns to you. “Climb up and get comfortable between his legs.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He growls. You look sad, and he doesn’t like it. It doesn’t suit you.

Tess catches his eye and looks you over. “Hey,” she says, a hand on your shoulder. “You trust me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” And you mean it, more than you realized.

“Then stop feelin’ bad for him and help him out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you murmur and climb up onto the bed, finding a home for yourself between his thighs. The dark hair tickles your nose when you press a kiss to the inside of his leg, nuzzling your cheek against it.

You’re not stupid, but you think you might be an idiot. You know what this is. And what it isn’t. But the way your chest warms at being close, at being allowed to see him vulnerable, at being coddled a little by the both of them—well, it’s dangerous.

When Tess rubs a hand over your back and whispers “good girl,” in your ear, you decide you don’t care. So what if your foolish heart is collateral? How many times since the world ended have you gotten to feel anything? You don’t need forever; you just need whatever you have in these moments.

So you’ll take it and swallow it up, bottle it inside for when you need something soft and warm at the end of a bad day.

Unfortunately, all the thinking about things that aren’t has you jittering your right leg. It’s tucked under you and jostles your whole body a little. Your head rests on Joel’s thigh, a torturous inch from his leaking cock.

But you know better. And so you wait.

She takes her sweet time, letting him watch you watch precum leak down. The longer she leaves you there in silence, the more the buzzing in your brain fades to a gentle breeze. Your leg stops its fussing, and you breathe deeper, easier. His thigh is wide and warm, and you’re close enough to smell the deep musk of him.

It makes your mouth water and your mind quiet. She comes back over, and you shudder when her fingers trip up the length of your spine until they come to rest on the back of your neck.

“Go real slow,” she says. “Just kisses and licks, for now.”

You’re in a haze; the world narrowed to her voice and his cock. First, you wipe his leaking slit clean with the broad stripe of your tongue before kissing it softly. He groans, but it settles into a whine when you kiss down the underside until you reach his balls.

They’re hanging at a bit of an awkward angle for you to reach, so you shift to sink lower, steadying yourself with a hand on each of his thighs. You don’t think you’ve ever gotten to properly appreciate him like this, to feel the velvet skin against your cheek as you nuzzle in.

Tess’s hand stays steady on the back of your neck, tethering you to the world without having to focus on the threadbare sheets or the clangs and shouts from the open window.

You’re not sure how long you spend like that, wrapping your tongue around wherever you can reach without actually taking him into your mouth. He’s twitching here and there, rewarding you with tiny tastes of him as you go.

She tugs on your neck, pulling you back. You whine, but he whimpers louder. She lets both of you sit and catch your breath for a moment before she’s pushing you down again.

“Just the tip,” she tells you with a playful wink at Joel.

You wrap your lips around it and can’t help but suck hard. His hips jerk up, but Tess is faster, pulling you out of his reach.

“Hold still,” she says, swatting at his thigh. “Be grateful for what you’re getting.”

She waits until he nods before pushing you back down. You try to be gentler, a softer, pulsing pressure, but he’s squirming beneath you, and you’re aching to have him deeper, sliding just a little further onto his shaft.

Tess yanks you by the neck away from him and fixes you with a stern scowl.

“I’m sorry! I’ll be good,” you cry.

“You better be,” she warns and pushes you back down.

By the time she lets you bury him in your throat, your knees are aching, and Joel is shaking with the effort to hold still. You don’t like the way he gasps and struggles; each sound sending a hairline fracture through something in your chest.

You don’t need to look to know he has tears in his eyes. You can hear it in the ragged breaths and grit of his teeth.

The sun has set. It has to have been at least an hour, maybe two, since this all started.

He lets out a wounded sound, and your own follows.

“Hey,” Tess’s voice cuts through Joel’s whimpers. She tugs at you gently, and you pull off.

“Why’re you crying, sunflower?” she says.

You don’t know how she knew it wasn’t from choking on his cock. It wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten teary before. You weren’t even really sure you were crying. But now that she’s asked, your chest feels tight.

Joel’s focused on you, too, throbbing cock forgotten for a moment.

“I’m okay,” you say, but it’s hardly convincing after it breaks on a sobbing gasp. “I-I—“

She gets on the bed and pulls you into her lap, where you curl around her and begin to cry in earnest. With one hand, she’s able to tug one of Joel’s free, and he’s more than capable of undoing the other.

He sits up on his knees and hovers, hands clenching and unclenching at his side. Tess cradles you and whispers soothing nothings.

Joel finally reaches out and puts his hand on the back of your neck, cupping close. He doesn’t really know what to do with himself.

When you feel his hand on you, unmistakably Joel, both in the breadth of his grip and considering you know where both of Tess’s hands are, you peek up to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and the chest-wracking gasps take over again. “I’m sorry.”

You’re clinging; you know you are. But it feels all wrong, all jumbled in your chest, like instead of finishing the puzzle, someone just jammed the pieces together until they stuck, no matter the damage.

“Why’re you sorry, huh? You did exactly as you were told,” he says, thumb rubbing over the nape of your neck.

“I don’t know, I feel sad,” you mumble into Tess’s shoulder.

Tess rubs her hand between your shoulder blades. “That was too confusing for you, huh? Put you in a weird place? Like you betrayed him a little bit?”

You nod, rubbing your hand over your clavicle. “Feels wrong.”

“I’m sorry, sunflower.” She kisses your forehead. “You need him to forgive you?”

Your throat is cinched around stone. All you can do is nod.

“Hey, c’mere,” Joel says and pulls you from her lap to his.

You curl up with your face buried in the crook of his arm.

“Ain’t nothin’ to forgive,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head.

Your inhale sounds mortifyingly like a sob.

Tess shakes her head and raises an eyebrow at him, knowing he gets the same way. “You need to show her. Prove it. Let her earn it.”

“That what ya need? Need your own punishment, remember your place?”

You nod frantically against his collarbone.

“Okay, sweet girl. I can do that.”

Once you’ve settled and the tears subsided, he pries you away and tilts your chin up to look at him. “Lay across my lap.”

You remember his threat from your apartment, and for whatever reason, warmth spreads from your chest to your toes.

He helps you shift into position, arranging you how he wants. A broad hand splays across your hips while the other grips you by the jaw.

“Look at you. You’re just a little girl who needs a spanking, huh?” His grip intensifies, craning your neck.

“Yes sir,” you cry.

“Say it.”

“I—I’m just a little girl who needs a spanking.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“‘Cause you’ll take care of me.”

It’s not the answer any of you expected. Tess gives a low whistle. Joel’s grip on your jaw slackens just a little.

His other hand comes up to brush against your cheek. He clears his throat, and when he speaks, it’s softer, quieter. “That’s right. I’m gonna take care of ya.”

Your lip quivers, and you don’t know why. Everything is suddenly in stereo sound. Your scalp stings. The brush of his dry finger scrapes against the apple of your cheek. There’s a crack opening somewhere, maybe your throat, maybe your stomach.

Tess runs a hand through Joel’s hair, and he releases your jaw, broad palm finding purchase on the upturned curve of your back.

“Jus’ relax ‘n let me take care of ya,” he rumbles.

The first hit is soft. A test. You don’t flinch when he lifts his hand to strike you again.

The third one stings, and you huff out a breath but hold steady. His hand on your back seems to be supporting your entire spine, given that the rest of you feels like it may melt into the horrible carpet. Another stain in their apartment, but at least this one will bring good memories. You hope.

You might have spent more on the thought, but the next smack lands hard and heavy, and you yelp, nails digging into his calf where they cling for stability. Physical and mental.

“Shh, you’re alright,” he says, rubbing his thumb back and forth where it lays.

The next hit is hard again. And the next. And the three after that.

You’re wriggling in his lap now, not trying to escape but simply squirming after each spank as if you could douse the fire he’s started.

He rubs your ass where his palm had just bounced from, and you suck in a soft hiss.

“I want to give you five more,” he says. “Can you take it?”

You don’t even think about it. “Yes, sir,” you say, shuddering.

His hand cracks down hard before you can brace yourself, and you whimper, kicking your feet a little and squirming.

The next one pushes the tears over the edge as you cry out, writhing a little.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good, darlin’,” he croons.

You want nothing more than to believe him. The words sink beneath your skin, and you expect them to itch like all praise. But they don’t.

The next three aren’t as harsh. At least, you think they aren’t? You’re feeling kind of sleepy. Or dizzy. Maybe both.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you up seated in his lap. “You took that so well. So good for us, baby.”

Tess hands you a glass of water and kisses the top of your head. She kisses Joel’s, too.

“Y’did good, sweet boy,” she tells him.

You sip at the water while they kiss, something silent passing overhead. You don’t try to catch it; it’s not for you.

You feel quiet. Like sitting there in Joel’s lap, drinking your water is the only thing in your life. Nothing buzzes behind your skull; nothing sends you jittering and twitching and bouncing. It’s… well, it’s quiet.

“Alright, I think you’ve both earned a reward,” Tess says.

Joel looks up at her.

She grins. “I’m going to fuck you while you fuck her.”

His grip on your waist tightens. “Can I…”

“Yes, I’ll let you come, baby,” she says. “I think you learned your lesson. And you’ve done such a good job with our girl there.”

You’re leaning against his chest, now, listening to the rumble of his voice. You’re not really sure what they’re talking about, but you think maybe you’re going to get fucked now. Which sounds great. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut.

“Hey,” he jostles you a little. “You awake enough to fuck?”

“Mhm.”

He nudges you again, and you blink up at him. “I’m awake,” you whine, nuzzling into his neck and setting your teeth gently against the tendon in protest.

“Didn’t you just get spanked?” he scolds. “You need another round?”

“No,” you mumble, even though maybe your pussy is saying yes. But you’re starting to think she doesn’t have your best interests in mind. “I dunno. Maybe later.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Lay down,” he says, pushing slowly at your shoulder. You whine and cling with your arms around his neck. He wants you to move? It seems so cruel.

You tell him so, and he rolls his eyes before slipping an arm under your knees and standing up. You squeak.

You try to bury your face further into Joel, but he dumps you unceremoniously on the bed.

You pout, and he smirks as he prowls, trapping you between his knees and bringing your arms up over your head.

“You wanna keep up the attitude? I don’t have to let you cum tonight,” he says as he cages you in.

You whimper, less at his words than at the way you’re throbbing. “I’ll be good,” you whisper.

“Wanna try that again?”

“I’ll be good, sir.”

He kisses your forehead, still looming over you. “Yeah, you will.”

“You want her to help get you ready, baby?” Tess says.

“Oh fuck,” Joel whispers. He looks down at you. “Ever eaten ass, princess?”

You can’t help the moan that slips out, nodding. “Not in a long time.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Y’keep sayin’ that. How long was it for ya, before us?”

You flush and suddenly can’t look at him. “Like. Years. Too long.”

“Don’t gotta be shy about it, sunflower,” Tess says. “We were just curious.”

Mortifyingly, you realize that means they talked about you when you weren’t there. Of course, they did, but you didn’t think it really went beyond “Hey did you like that” and “Do we want to fuck her again?”

“Oh god,” you whisper.

“C’mon and put that mouth to better use,” Joel says, rolling his eyes. He tugs you down further on the mattress before kneeling at the top of the bed, knees bracketing your head.

You don’t waste time, leaning forward to first lick at his balls before dragging your tongue back. You can’t help but nip at his butt. He pinches at your breast in return, and you grin as you drag your tongue in circles, coming close but never quite touching where he needs you.

He gasps when you finally lick across his hole, soaking him in your saliva but only using soft, light touches. He grinds down onto your face, forcing you to devote your attention to him, kissing and licking until your face is covered in your own spit from how buried in him you are.

It’s your turn to gasp when, just as you press the tip of your tongue inside him, Tess slides two fingers into your cunt and curls them. Having regained control of the situation, Joel gropes at your breasts, tugging your nipples until they’re stretched almost too painfully, and you don’t really recognize the wet sounds above you right away.

You almost cum when you realize they’re making out as they toy with you. Tess works you open with three fingers now as you twirl your tongue in tight circles. She pulls her hand free and breaks the kiss just to shove her fingers into his mouth. He sucks and licks your slick from her, and when she pulls her hand away, they both move in tandem without speaking a word.

He moves down off the bed to bury his face between your legs, bent at the waist so she can work lubed-up fingers into his ass. He moans against your clit, and you writhe under the weight of his strong arm across your hips.

He smacks your hip. “Cum,” he growls, pinching your clit and licking as deep as he can inside you. You do, crying out just a little too loud and wincing at the sound.

“Don’t,” Tess scolds. “Let us hear you, sunflower.”

“B-but—”

“You think we give a fuck about the neighbors?” She pulls back from Joel and slaps his ass. “C’mon, give her your cock now.”

He taps your thigh and jerks his head toward the top of the bed. You scoot back a little.

“Ready, sunflower? You want me t’fill you up?” His fist is wrapped around the base of his cock.

“Please, sir,” you say, spreading your legs wide and tilting your hips up.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs. Once he’s settled on top of you, Tess grabs him by the hair.

“Just the tip, baby,” she says. “Let me fuck you into her.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says while you moan.

He notches himself at your slit and gently pushes until the head of his cock is nestled inside you. His hands are balled into fists where they cage you in, and his chest heaves with the effort. After all the wretched edging earlier, he’s not actually sure he can hold back.

“Good boy,” Tess murmurs.

It helps, at least until he hears the vibrator click to life inside her. She moans and adjusts the harness a little before she slaps his ass and pushes in agonizingly slow.

It doesn’t stay slow. She drags it out just until you both are desperate before grabbing his hips and shoving the rest of her strap in. It knocks him forward to split you open.

You think you might actually die this time. How is it that she keeps coming up with even better ways to fuck?

You expect him to try to take control, but he lets her set the unforgiving rhythm, fucking herself on the cock held tight inside her by the harness and taking Joel apart with the other half. Each time her hips crash into him, he rocks into you.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel grunts, leaning down to bite at your tits so you writhe and whine beneath him.

You grip one of his biceps and reach up for Tess with the other hand. She entwines your fingers, grinning as you grip on desperately. Joel’s teeth have found your neck, leaving marks for you to find later.

You’re not sure how many times you cum. Or Tess, for that matter. Joel manages two. When Tess takes pity on him for the first, he breaks apart so hard that he buries his face in your tits, biting down and leaving hot tears behind. She fucks him through it, and he never goes fully soft, still twitching and throbbing inside you.

When he starts to protest from the overstimulation, she clicks her tongue at him. “No. Another.”

“I can’t,” he whimpers.

“Yeah, you can. Don’t you want him to cum again, sunflower?”

“Uh-huh,” is all you manage as the breath gets knocked out of you on each thrust.

“Be a good boy and cum for me again,” she says. She lets go of your hand to wrap hers around his throat.

You moan, remembering the way she held yours just yesterday.

He gets a glint in his eye even as they glaze over a little, and slides his hand up to do the same to you.

“Fuck, look at you,” Tess says, eyes flicking between you. “Both bein’ so good for me.”

It’s really all it takes. Joel starts to cum first, and when you feel him jerk inside you, this orgasm forcing some of his first load out to pool on the sheet, you snap, warmth flooding you as you tremble beneath them.

All of it sends Tess over the edge, too, and she reaches out to stroke your cheek as she cums, her other hand still loosely cupping Joel’s neck.

Joel’s shaking as he holds himself over you carefully, waiting as Tess gently pulls out. He follows, concern in his wrinkles as you wince.

“M’ok,” you mumble.

Tess goes to head to the bathroom for a towel but he stops her, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. He jerks his head to the bed, and she sighs but crawls beside you to let him handle cleanup.

You watch him, brow furrowed just a little. He should be more tired than either of you.

“He likes to take care of me,” she says. “Of both of us. Sometimes, we just gotta let him.” She tucks an arm under you, and you roll to wrap your arm around her waist.

Tess insists they walk you home that night. “But will you make it back before curfew?” you try to protest.

“Y’ain’t gotta worry about us,” Joel cuts in gruffly. “We’re the ones that gotta worry about you.”

You bite your lip but don’t argue. There’s no point once they’ve decided something, anyway.

Something about it feels off, like you’re in someone else’s skin, but then she slips her hand into yours. Joel trails behind you, scowl firmly locked in place as he shoots dark looks around.

You draw the line at them coming into the building. It feels sickeningly silly, like you’re playing pretend in dangerous waters. Your firm “no” doesn’t stop Tess from kissing your cheek or Joel from rubbing your shoulder before you go inside.

You’d always been fine by yourself before, but your new bed feels cold and lonely.

next chapter

*title from "HandClap" by Fitz and the Tantrums

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x tess servopoulos #joel miller x reader x tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x you #tess servopolous x joel miller x you #tess servopolous x joel miller #tess servopoulos x reader x joel miller #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x f!reader #the last of us smut #the last of us fic #tlou smut

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aflame4goinghome · 3 months

Text

Antithesis

j.t.k x reader & j.m.k. x reader

part III

word count: 6.3k

warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!! fluff, swearing, flirting, drinking, cheating *kind of*, possessiveness, Jake's an asshole (that deserves its own warning) SMUT: kissing, sexually implicit language, touching, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbating (f. & m.), fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving & m. receiving), unprotected sex, slight biting, choking, praise kink, a touch of orgasm denial, a hint of a breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism

a/n: hi! it's been a while, i know. but trust me, this chapter is worth it... you're gonna love it. this chapter is pretty much all jake, sorry josh lovers! you'll see more of him next time ;) don't worry, the next part will not take as long. love ya! <3

listen to the official playlist on Spotify here

read part two here

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As you toss and turn in your bed, your mind isn’t thinking about anything but Jake. The feeling of his lips on your skin is burned into the back of your mind and threatens to take root there forever, and that scares you. It’s been over a month now since you’d last seen him– you and Josh have been taking advantage of his time off before he inevitably had to go back on tour, and luckily, it gave you an excuse to avoid his other half.

From the bits and pieces you’ve heard from Josh, it seems like Jake has been out of town for a few weeks on a solo trip, making his rounds at a few studios and music stores in New York City and doing some recording on his own. Josh beamed when talking about it, it’s clear how proud he is of his brother and his dream. You just felt relieved that Jake’s presence wasn’t there to threaten your composure and complicate your relationship with Josh.

You turn over on your side to look at Josh next to you, fast asleep. Every once in a while, you hear him breathe in a loud snore, making you giggle to yourself. You’re not sure what it is exactly that is keeping you up at night, but you just want to be rid of it. You didn’t have any room for distractions right now, between work and spending every waking moment with Josh. He hasn’t caught on to your off mood yet, for now. You hope to keep it that way.

Josh stirs in his sleep, taking in a deep breath and then turning over on the bed, facing away from you. At that moment, your attention is pulled away by the constant buzzing of your phone on the bedside table. You roll over reluctantly to pick it up, the brightness of the screen nearly blinding you. You squint to see better and your breath gets stuck in your throat as you see the name, large on the top of your screen. Jake.

You look in the corner to check the time: 3:37 am. Why on earth is he calling me this late? you think to yourself, shaking your head. You start to feel concerned that it might be serious or an emergency, so you quietly rise out of bed and tiptoe off to your bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you. Josh is still fast asleep, but you couldn’t risk it. You sit on the toilet seat and then apprehensively slide your finger across the screen, picking up the call.

“Hello? Jake?” you whisper, trying your best to keep it down.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, his voice sounding hushed and deep. It’s silent for a moment before you decide to break it yourself.

“Are you okay?” you ask, not even bothering to hide the concern in your voice. You hear him chuckle on the other end and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m okay,” he answers. You can practically see the smirk on his face through the phone. “Just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all. Is that a crime?” You breathe out a quiet sigh as you attempt to think through your words carefully, not wanting to inflate his ego more than you had to.

“No, Jake. It’s not a crime. It’s just nearly 4 in the morning,” you say, a bit of sarcasm dripping off the end of the sentence. It’s quiet again for a few beats before he takes a deep breath and continues.

“I know. I know, it’s late,” he says, and you can hear a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

“Are you still in New York?” you ask, trying to change the subject to not keep him feeling down.

“I am. My flight is on Sunday,” he says, pausing before he continues. “Why, did you miss me?” You can’t hold back the giggle that comes out and your hand rushes to your mouth, covering it and composing yourself.

“I was just asking because of the time difference, Jacob,” you answer snarkily. “You wish.” Another laugh comes through the line.

“Maybe I do,” he says, clearly smiling again. You sit there in silence briefly, not knowing what else to say. Before you can attempt to end the call, he cuts you off.

“Listen, Y/N…” he starts. “I wanna see when I get back. And not just in passing, not just at a party. I want to take you out. Let me take you out, baby.” If you didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like he was pleading with you. But you do know better, or at least you think you do.

“Jake, are you drunk?” you ask, rolling your eyes.

“No. I’m not,” he answers firmly. He’s never called you sober before, which takes you aback. You can’t help but feel the butterflies start to float through your stomach, threatening to rise up your throat and escape. The thought that he’d think to pursue you while sober was one that you never expected. No, you think to yourself, shoving the imaginary butterflies back down. I am not falling this easily.

“Jake…” you whisper. “Why would you want to take me out? Why now?” You look down at your lap as your fingers fiddle with the hem of your oversized t-shirt.

The idea that he would be actually pursuing you at all felt like a fantasy. After your past two interactions over the holidays, you had convinced yourself that he was just using you. Hell, maybe he still is. But something inside you was tempted to let him try his luck. You were with Josh, it was wrong, you knew that. But he was leaving soon, and he hasn’t shown any interest in getting serious with you. You were just a companion and a good lay for Josh, nothing more. Just a constant. You didn’t owe him anything. But still, you can’t help but feel guilty even considering it.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. I’m going out of my mind here, thinking about you being with my brother and not me. You’re mine– I want you to be mine,” he says, his voice dripping in desire and candor. You knew he was being honest. Your heart sinks at his words and the idea of being the one causing him pain. You can’t bear it. Before you can stop yourself, the word vomit starts coming.

“There hasn’t been a single night in the past two months that I haven’t thought about you. Every single night. I go to bed thinking about you, and I wake up thinking about you. My mind is full of you, Jake. Only you,” you admit, almost hastily, like you would die if you didn’t let it out. You hear him sigh on the other line, feeling nervous about how he might be reacting.

“God, sweetheart. You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he mumbles, his voice deep and hoarse, sending a bolt of lightning through your body. His voice alone makes your whole body tingle, going straight to your core. It was ridiculous how easily he could turn you on, he does it without even trying. You fail to stifle the quiet whimper from coming out of your mouth at his voice and you know it’s too late to backtrack now.

“Fuck, you like that, baby?” he whispers, letting out a low groan himself. You picture it in your head as your eyes start to close, thinking about the possibility of him palming himself through his pants while he talks to you on the phone. “I know you miss me. Go ahead and touch yourself for me, sweetheart. Be nice to her just like I would, I know she needs it.”

Another moan leaves your mouth as he talks to you, and you allow your hand to drift down as you hold the phone to your ear in the other. You lift up your shirt slightly and let your fingers dip into your panties. Your head leans back against the wall and a soft whine leaves your lips as your fingers graze your clit.

“Are you touching that pretty pussy for me, baby? You gonna be sweet to her?” he asks, the rasp in his voice sending shivers down your spine. You run two of your fingers through your folds, collecting the wetness that has begun to pool there and then slowly inserting them inside you. A moan starts to slip past your lips but you catch it, biting your lip as you start to move your fingers in and out of you.

“What is it, don’t want my brother to hear?” he teases. You roll your eyes as you work yourself slowly, your thumb rubbing circles along your swollen clit. You can hear his labored breathing over the phone, and you know that he’s touching himself too. It was all so taboo, almost turning you on even more.

“Fuck, I wish I could feel your lips wrapped around my cock right now, baby,” he groans, panting quietly into the phone as he works himself closer. You whimper quietly, but loud enough for him to hear.

“God, me too… you feel so good, Jake,” you whine, getting closer and closer to the edge. “Please, keep talking, don’t stop.” He groans deeply at your words, you can tell he’s getting close.

“Y/N, when I see you… I’m gonna wine and dine you, make you feel so beautiful,” he whispers, you can hear him struggling to get his words out. “Then I’m going to take you home… and I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to even remember Josh’s name… Just me, only me.” His words are getting you so close, thinking about him branding you and keeping you for himself. You moan, almost too loud, as you start to reach your peak.

“Jake, fuck! I’m yours. I’m yours.” You finally go over the edge, coming all over your fingers and soaking your underwear as you slowly still your fingers. You hear a stifled moan on the other line as he finishes with you, spitting out curses and breathing heavily.

“You’re so fucking hot, Y/N, my God,” he mutters, slowing his breathing as he comes down from his high. You pull your fingers out, wiping them on your hand towel then pull your shirt back down over your thighs and take a deep breath.

“Monday? Pick me up at 8?” you ask quietly, smiling softly as you await his response. You can hear the smile in his voice as it comes over the other line.

“Of course, baby… 8 o'clock sharp,” he says, still lingering on the end of the line. You want to say more before bed, but you’re interrupted by a voice on the other side of the door.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” you hear Josh whisper outside the bathroom door. Fuck.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m okay, I’ll be right out,” you answer, hastily standing up from the toilet and running the water at the sink to make it seem like you were using the bathroom.

“Sounds like duty calls…” Jake teases. You scoff at him and then hastily end the call. You shut the water off and unlock the door, opening it to see Josh standing there waiting. His eyes look groggy and his hair is a curly mess from tossing around on your pillows. You can’t help but smile at his tired appearance as you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Sorry, honey… I was just going to the bathroom, you know how I get in the middle of the night,” you whisper, knowing he’ll believe your excuse. He smiles softly as he places a soft kiss on your lips.

“Come cuddle,” he says, turning to walk back to the bed. You both lay back down and you place your head on Josh’s chest as you finally drift off to sleep.

This is never going to end well. It can’t. You’ve seen all the movies and you know how they end. You can’t possibly see both brothers at once, it just can’t work that way. You have a decision to make, and you’re absolutely dreading it.

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You get home from work Monday night, tossing your keys onto the bowl in your foyer then slipping off your heels with a grown. Why you ever suggested a date on a weeknight, you’ll never know. Nonetheless, you only have two hours to shower and get ready before Jake arrives to pick you up, so you have to get to it.

You walk up the stairs sluggishly and walk into your room, sliding off your skirt and button-down shirt from work and then heading into the bathroom. You start the water, take off your undergarments, then slip into the shower. You lean your head back as the water hits you, warm and harsh. You let it wash over you as you go through the motions, washing your body and then pausing when looking at your razor.

You scoff and then pick it up. You suppose you should, knowing that there’s a very strong chance that you’ll be seeing Jake intimately tonight. You decide to do a full-body shave, which takes longer than you wanted it to. You quickly wash your hair and then step out of the shower and dry off.

You take a look at your phone for the time: 7:05 pm. You quickly blow dry your hair then curl it loosely, just enough for some volume. With your hair done, you apply your makeup– more than your usual look, but not too much. When you’re satisfied, you exit the bathroom and walk toward your closet to pick out something to wear.

You sift through your various dresses and then your eyes fall on the perfect choice: a red bodycon dress, with thin straps and a v-neckline. From what you know about Jake, you know that this is just the dress to drive him crazy. You weren’t going to make this easy on him, planning to play as hard to get as possible. At least, that’s what you planned to do, but in reality, you struggle to compose yourself in his presence. You try to brush that thought off, slipping the dress on and zipping it up. You reach down for your favorite pair of black heels, slide them on, and then walk over to your bed to grab your wristlet.

You grab a tube of lipgloss from your makeup bag and apply it to your lips thoroughly then slide it into your bag. You check your phone, seeing that Jake should arrive in five minutes, then put your phone inside your bag as well. You walk out of your room and shut the door behind you. As you walk down the stairs and peek through the small window beside the door, you can see the headlights of a car out front. With a smile, you grab your keys and open your front door, locking it then walking out onto the porch.

As you walk down the porch steps and approach his car, you notice that he’s looking down at his phone, not noticing you just yet. You wrap your hand around the door handle and pull it open. Jake finally looks up from his phone and sees you, a small smile growing across his face as you sit in the passenger seat and shut the door behind you.

His eyes trail down your bare legs, back up to your chest, then meet your gaze. His lips turn upward into a smirk as he extends his arm to rest on the back of your seat, grazing your bare shoulder lightly. Shivers shoot down your spine at his touch and you look up at him with a smile as he breaks the silence.

“You look… breathtaking,” he says, reaching over to place a finger underneath your chin. He leans down and kisses your lips lightly, his fingers brushing your cheek as he cups it softly, then pulls away, turning toward the front of the car. “Shall we?” You smile and nod, then he puts the car in drive and turns off of your street toward downtown.

“I hope you like Italian… I’ve had this place in mind for a while, been meaning to try it,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road.

“I do,” you answer, looking over at him. “I’m okay with anything really.” He stops at the stoplight and turns to you with a smirk across his face.

“Good girl,” he says, reaching his right hand over to sit on your thigh then turning back to the road as the light turns and he continues to drive. His fingers grip your thigh tightly as one of them reaches slightly under the hem of your dress to tease your clothed core. You suck in a deep breath and look over at him to see that he’s completely unaffected.

Jake is wearing a cream-colored button-down shirt, paired with a pair of black slacks. Despite the long, black overcoat he has on, he still managed to leave a few of the buttons on his shirt undone. At least he’s consistent, you suppose.

Soon enough, you pull into a parking spot in front of the restaurant and Jake removes his hand from your thigh to park. Jake turns the car off and opens his door, stepping out onto the street and walking around to the sidewalk, waiting for you. You open your door and get out of the car, closing it behind you and walking behind him as he takes your hand in his and guides you to the entrance of the restaurant.

He greets the hostess and gets you a table, then she walks you both to a secluded table in the back corner of the restaurant. The tables are dimly lit by a singular candle, and there are a few chandeliers throughout the room. As the two of you get situated at the table, a waiter comes up to ask for your drink order. Jake orders a bottle of pinot noir and the waiter pours you both glasses of water before retreating to the cellar to get the bottle. Once he returns and pours you both a glass, he sets it on the table for you and then gives you time to look over the menu.

As you peruse the menu, you can’t decide on what you want to eat. You look up from the menu at Jake, whose eyes are glued to his menu, and decide to ask him what he thinks.

“What are you going to get?” you ask as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Hm,” he says, looking back down at the menu before answering. “I think I might go with the roasted tomato and grilled chicken with fettuccine… What are you thinking of getting?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t choose between the shrimp scampi and the penne alla vodka,” you say, as he seems to ponder the idea.

“Get the penne alla vodka,” he says curtly, looking back down at his menu then closing it and placing it on the table. You nod and do the same, crossing your legs under the table and folding your hands together atop the table. He looks up at you with a smug smile, his eyes wandering to your chest briefly before the waiter returns and asks for your meal orders.

Once he leaves, it falls silent for a moment as you both study each other. You’ve never spent this much time alone before, and frankly, you’re not sure where to begin. Your relationship thus far, if you can even call it that, has been very impersonal and strictly physical. To ease the tension, you raise your foot and graze against his calf softly, which certainly gets his attention.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he warns, leaning over the table slightly as he folds his hands to mirror yours. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He raises his eyebrow at you as a smirk washes across his face, but you know better than to let him win like that.

“I can finish it,” you say, smiling smugly back.

“Yeah? You think so?” he asks sarcastically. Game on, Kiszka.

“I know so,” you answer confidently, brushing your foot against his calf yet again.

“We’ll just have to see about that,” he says, taking a long sip of wine and leaning back against the chair. You smirk and take a sip out of your own glass.

“Good choice. This is delicious,” you remark, taking another sip.

“I know,” he says bluntly, smirking at you from across the table. Before you have the chance to make a snide remark, the waiter approaches the table with your food, placing it in front of you before walking off. The two of you eat in silence for a while before you decide to say something.

“This is really good,” you say after you take a bit of your dish. “I appreciate you taking me here, I’m sure it’s so expensive…” You trail off as you start to feel bad, but he interrupts.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I should consider myself lucky to be able to take you out to dinner,” he answers, a hint of his teeth peeking out as he smiles at you– something that you weren’t used to.

“You look phenomenal tonight, Y/N. Truly,” he continues, reaching over the table to place his hand on top of yours, squeezing it.

“Thank you, Jake,” you reply, smiling before taking another bite of your food.

“My pleasure,” he says with another, then turning his attention back to eating.

You both finish your food, then conversation sparks as he pours you both another glass of wine. You talk mostly about tour, and the new album that they’ve been working on, which you’re interested to hear about. He does ask you briefly about your job and your family, but you honestly don’t feel like talking about that stuff– not when his life is so much more interesting. You’d never say that to his face, though.

Once the wine bottle is finally emptied, he hands the waiter his credit card and then signs the check. He rises from the table and extends his hand out to you, which you take. You stand up and follow him out of the restaurant hand-in-hand. As you approach his car, he wraps his arms around your waist and leans you back against the back passenger-side door.

“Let me take you home with me, baby…” he whispers, leaning down to brush his lips delicately against your neck. You lean your head back against the car as his lips start to kiss down your neck to your exposed collarbone, making you suck in a sharp breath. “Take me home,” you answer, and he reaches behind you smoothly to open the passenger-side door. You smirk at him as he backs away and you get into the car, and he follows suit.

✺⋅∘⋅•⋅∘⋅✧⋅∘⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅∘⋅✧⋅∘⋅∙⋅∘⋅✺

The ride to Jake’s place is silent, but comfortably so. His hand rests firmly on your thigh as he navigates you there, and you can tell that he’s feeling quite impatient. He squeezes your thigh every few seconds with such vigor that you almost fear that it will leave a mark. The anticipation is killing you, everything since Thanksgiving has led to this moment, and it’s finally happening.

He pulls into his driveway and presses the button to open his garage, then pulls into his spot inside and turns the car off. He gets out of the car first and goes around the front to open your door, taking your hand and helping you up out of the seat. He shuts the door behind you quickly then leans your back against it, cupping your cheeks as his lips race toward yours.

Your hands lace through his hair as his body overtakes you, pinning you against the car. Jake grips your neck tightly, almost as if you might disappear if he didn’t. His sense of urgency and desperate hold on you tell you that he worries that you could leave.

With the hope of reassuring him, you retreat from his lips and grab his hand, walking toward the door that enters the house and opening it. You look back at him and smile confidently as you yank his arm to drag him up the stairs hastily.

As you reach his bedroom, you swing the door wide open and once you enter the room, he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls your flush against him. His lips find your neck, kissing softly down from your chin to your collarbone, sinking his teeth in ever so slightly. One of his hands travels upward to rest atop your breast as the other reaches for one of your straps, sliding it down your shoulder.

A shiver bolts down your spine as he repeats the action on the other strap then takes the zipper on the back in his fingers. He slides the zipper down about halfway before he stops and you let out a frustrated sigh. His other hand squeezes your breast harshly as the other grips your waist tightly. As his lips ghost over your skin, they move to rest right on the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and fast, sending your head spinning as he finally breaks the silence.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispers against your ear, his voice raspy and low. You breathe out a stifled sigh as his hand moves from your hip to your outer thigh and squeezes it tightly. His lips work down your neck to give you a moment to respond, but he’s not that patient.

“Tell me,” he growls against your skin, using his grip on your body to pull you against him. You can feel his thick, hard cock against your ass, eliciting an uncontrolled whimper from you.

After all this time of secret rendezvous, you still had yet to touch him. You haven’t even been able to see him, not fully. The anticipation was killing you, and after the last few times when he’s focused solely on your pleasure, you wanted desperately to return the favor.

“I want you, Jake,” you finally answer, leaning your head back in ecstasy as his lips continue to explore your neck with haste. Not wanting to waste any more time, you flip around and capture his lips in yours, pulling him closer to his king-sized bed.

Your fingers move to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt, reaching down to untuck the shirt from his pants. He smirks against your lips as you remove the last button and slip it over his shoulders and down his arms slowly.

His hands work to unzip your dress the rest of the way and you let it slip down your shoulders and fall at your feet. Now left in only your red lace panties, matching perfectly with the dress, you work quickly to unbutton his slacks and pull down the zipper.

“Let me make you feel good,” you whisper against his lips.

“You wanna put your mouth on it, sweetheart? You gonna be sweet to it?” he asks as you back away and he leans his arms against the bed, his eyes darkening as he looks down at you kneeling before him. You nod, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you slide his pants down his thighs.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a second as his pants drop to the floor and you start to palm him through his briefs. His eyes are dark and full of lust and desire, his lips are turned upward slightly into a smug smirk.

Your hands are planted firmly on the outside of his thighs as you lean upward and place small, soft kisses along his length through the thin barrier of his underwear. His eyes roll back at the action, a muffled groan leaving his lips.

You dip your fingers into the waistline of his underwear and slide them down his thighs, letting them fall atop his pants. You can’t stop your jaw from dropping as you finally see the reality of his size firsthand. Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you see him smirking above you– great, as if he needed an even bigger ego.

You reach up to stroke him, slowly at first as your eyes are locked with his. You can tell that he’s trying to keep his composure, but you’re determined to crack it. Gripping his thigh with your free hand, you lean forward and lick a long stripe along his length, eliciting a deep groan from his mouth.

His eyes shut for a moment but he resists, opening them back up to look down at you, half-lidded. You wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around it as your eyes are glued to his. Then, you lower your head and take him in your mouth fully, moving your hard to his other thigh and letting his hard cock push to the back of your throat until you can’t fit any more.

“Fuck, sweetheart, that’s it,” he mutters, shutting his eyes again as his face contorts from the feeling of you beginning to bob your head slowly along his length. Y/N 1, Jake 0.

His right hand reaches down to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail as the other holds him up on the edge of the bed. Unable to restrain himself, he thrusts harshly down your throat and you gag around him, tears forming on the corners of your eyes. Your grip on his thighs tightens as you allow him to take control, fucking your mouth harshly.

You look up at him and watch as his face contorts in pleasure. The front pieces of his hair frame his face as his face angles downward, with his eyes shut tightly and his eyebrows furrowed. You feel like you could cum just from the sight of it, squeezing your thighs together to get any sort of friction. As his eyes open slightly to look down at you, they trail downward to see you struggling to get off below him.

“Am I neglecting her, baby?” he asks, dropping your hair to cup your cheek and rub his thumb along it softly. “Do you need me to take care of you?” You nod feverishly and he bites his lip as he pulls you off of him and back up onto your feet.

He places quick, soft kisses on your lips as he turns you around and lays you down on his bed, letting your head rest on the large, fluffy pillows as he climbs onto the bed and kneels at your feet. He kisses up your legs to your thighs, using his rough, calloused hands on the outside of your thighs to spread your legs widely for him.

His hands move to grip your ass tightly as his lips travel up your thighs, to the inside, then to your lower abdomen, right above your clit. You lean on your elbows as you try to be able to see him, not wanting to miss what he looks like with his head between your thighs. You knew you had to commit this to memory while you still could.

He flashes you a smug smile before wrapping his lips around your clit, starting a fast, unbearable pace as his tongue swirls around your swollen bud. You let out a breathy moan as you feel his pointer finger brush against your folds and then push into you slowly. He curls his finger inside you, hitting you right at your G-spot repeatedly.

Your eyes fall shut as he adds a second finger, curling deep inside you and bringing you closer and closer to the edge. As you start to clench around his fingers, he swiftly removes them, crawling up your body to lean over you.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he scolds, placing hot kisses down your jawline to your neck. “The only place you’re allowed to cum tonight is around my cock.” A quiet moan leaves your mouth as his knees push your legs open wider and he grips your waist tightly. He leans over you, his other hand moving from the back of your neck to reach down to stroke himself briefly, groaning before lining himself up with you.

He brushes the tip against your clit and your eyes roll back as he smirks, rubbing it against you again before slipping it into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. God, he was thick– much thicker than Josh. You hated the thought of it, trying to push any comparison out of your mind. But Jake felt so different than Josh ever did. You hate to admit that he was right.

Jake’s hand finds its place back behind your neck, gripping your hair tightly as he starts thrusting into you, harsh and deep. Your eyes stare into his as he pounds into you furiously, holding your waist so tight that you’re sure it will leave a bruise.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” he groans, pulling out almost completely before slamming his hips harshly against you, making you yelp in pleasure. “So fucking good for me.”

His hand leaves your neck to grab your leg and lift it up to rest on his shoulder, adding a new angle as he fucks into you relentlessly. He reaches down for your breast and squeezes it harshly, lowering his lips to wrap around your hardened nipple. He sucks harshly and you whine under his touch, the sensation of feeling him everywhere starting to completely overwhelm you.

“I feel you clenching around me, baby,” he mumbles against your skin, removing his lips from your breast to kiss hot kisses along your jaw. “You gonna cum for me?” You nod hastily, unable to even form any words as you start to feel that burning feeling in your core. Jake’s hand wraps around your throat as his pace quickens inside you.

“Come on, sweetheart, fucking soak me,” he growls, his fingers tightening around your neck as he pushes you over the edge. Your mouth falls open as your orgasm rushes through you like a flood, Jake’s pace still at an overstimulating speed.

As you start to come down, he slips out of you and flips you over swiftly, gripping your hips harshly as he slams back into you from behind. You hold yourself up on your elbows as Jake’s hards burn into your sides, pounding into you quickly.

A yelp leaves your lips as his hand comes down and cracks against your asscheek. He rubs the spot softly, soothing the sting before bringing it down once more, repeating the motion several more times. His hips start to falter and you can tell that he’s close as he fucks you harshly into the mattress. You hear a moan fall from his mouth as his pace starts to slow.

“Where…” he starts, letting out another groan as you clench around him, then continues. “Where do you want me to-”

“Inside, cum inside me, please,” you plead, which is enough for him to pick his pace back up and slam his hips harshly against your ass.

“Fuck, baby… you want me to pump you full of my cum?” he mutters, groaning as he pounds into you, getting closer and closer to the edge. “Gonna get you pregnant… that’ll show my brother exactly who you belong to.” He spews out a string of curses and you know he’s nearly there.

“You’re mine,” he growls, leaning over you and brushing your hair out of your face, placing a kiss on the back of your neck as his body is flush against yours.

“I’m yours,” you answer as he thrusts one final time, pushing inside you deeply, coating your walls. He places soft kisses down your neck and along your back, thrusting inside you a few more times before pulling out slowly.

“C’mon, let’s go get cleaned up,” he says, turning you over then taking your hand in his, guiding you to the bathroom. You stand behind me, placing soft kisses along the side of his neck as he reaches into the shower and turns it on, adjusting the temperature. You both step in, closing the glass door behind you then wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you and capturing his lips in yours.

The two of you help clean each other up, sneaking in kisses and touches along the way, making the shower last much longer than necessary. Once you finally pry yourselves away from each other, you step out of the shower and Jake hands you a towel, taking one for himself.

You wrap the towel around your body, tucking the corner into the top and Jake does the same. You walk to the bathroom door to step out into the bedroom and gather your things. You have no plans to stay the night.

Your hand wraps around the doorknob and turns it, pulling it open all the way. As the door swings open, your jaw drops when you see Josh sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed across his chest. Much to your surprise, his expression isn’t one of anger– he’s smirking.

Absolutely stunned, you turn over your shoulder to look at Jake, your eyes pleading for help. Jake’s hand rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, making eye contact with his twin as he walks past you into the bedroom. You can’t seem to move from your spot, mortified.

“Well, well, well...” Josh says, his voice deep–something you’re not used to. “What do we have here?”

✺⋅∘⋅•⋅∘⋅✧⋅∘⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅∘⋅✧⋅∘⋅∙⋅∘⋅✺

leave a comment or send me a dm to be added to the taglist! thanks for reading! see you all real soon ;)

Taglist:

@itsafullmoon @vanfleeter @klarxtr @itsdannysworld @lipstickitty @peaceloveunitygvf @wildmoonworld @ignite-my-fire @gretasfallingsky @cxffeecakez @highladyofasgard @gvfpal @broken0mens @jordie-gvf

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jakegvf #josh kiszka #joshgvf #jake kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic #greta van fluff #greta van angst #greta van smut #greta van fleet smut

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lynnzelds · 8 months

Text

re4r leon kennedy x f!reader (kinktober prompt two - knife play)

resident evil kinktober masterlist

wc: 2,458 words

(tags: knife kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex, you and leon are enemies, quite a bit of bantering at the start bc that's just how i roll sometimes)

a/n: this wound up being a full length fic. whoops. i wrote most of this sleep deprived and it's also unedited. apologies for that in advance.

Oh, how you hate him.

He has you pinned underneath him, a knife pressed against your neck. You’re a mercenary sent to eliminate him–but you shouldn’t have underestimated the young agent. He’s already slipped out of your grasp several times, and now he has you bested in a knife fight. Your own blade lies abandoned on the concrete floor, just a few feet out of reach.

The cold, sharp blade digs into your neck, so close to breaking the skin and revealing the crimson that lies underneath it. With his non-dominant hand on your chest, he presses you into the ground harder. You squirm, and Leon instantly takes notice. But that’s the least of his concerns for now. “Who sent you after me?” he growls.

“Doesn’t matter,” you spit back. “Not when I’ll be delivering your head on a platter.”

He chuckles dryly. “Like you would.”

“Let go of me.”

“No, I think I’ll just stay like this.” His voice is gruff and deep as he shifts his weight so that his entire body is straddling yours.

“The hell are you doing?”

He leans in so that his face gets closer to yours. His hips hold you down and he places his left hand on the ground next to your head while he keeps the knife against your throat. “I’m gonna stay put until you give me some information.”

You scowl. “Fuck you.”

He smirks. “Only if that’s what you want.” He slides the knife along your throat without drawing blood. The high-pitched whimper that leaves your lips afterwards is embarrassing, so much so that at this point you wish he’d just slit your throat and get it over with.

“Now what was that?” he says with a laugh.

“Nothing,” you hiss.

“I think you’re enjoying this.” He continues to tease you with his knife, pressing the blade flat against your throat and watching how it makes you shiver.

“You think wrong.”

He chuckles. “It’s cute how in denial you are.”

“I’m not in denial!” you growl.

“You wanna test that?” he says, placing the sharp part of the knife against your throat once again. He applies pressure, and you moan as desire grows between your legs.

Oh god. Why the hell is this turning you on?

“Told you so,” says Leon with a grin. “You’re enjoying this.” He removes the knife from your neck, and you nearly whine at the lack of contact. Your eyes eagerly track the knife as he slides it into the sheathe positioned on his collarbone, silently pleading to feel its sharpness on your skin again. You won’t say it out loud, though.

Leon is quick to notice the hunger in your eyes as you stare at his sheathed knife. He places his hands on either side of your head, kneeling over you on all fours, and that’s when you gaze into his soft blue eyes. This position seems a bit too intimate for your liking, but for some reason you find yourself unable to move away from him.

“You want more?” he teases. “You greedy thing.”

“I hate you.”

“Not with the way you’re looking at me.”

“Go fuck yourself, Kennedy.” You use his last name because no way in hell does he deserve to hear you use his first.

“I could do that,” he says with a hint of a smirk on his lips. He leans in closer and brushes his lips against the side of your neck. “Or…” He lifts his knee and presses it against your clothed cunt. Your eyes widen and you shift around underneath him, trying not to make any noise. “I could fuck someone else. And I wonder who that someone could be.” He presses his lips to your neck, and your body shudders.

You avoid eye contact, turning your head away from him. You’re not sure what scares you more–you not knowing if he’s joking or the possibility that he could be serious. You want it to be a joke, but the throbbing between your legs says otherwise. “Certainly not me,” you scoff.

“Yeah, definitely not you,” he responds as he pulls away, his tone thick with sarcasm.

“Well, even if it was,” you say, despite knowing damn well he’s referring to you, “I came here to kill you, not for anything else.”

A low chuckle leaves his throat. “You’ve been doing a terrible job at accomplishing that. Makes me wonder if you’ve been letting me escape on purpose.”

That’s when you dare yourself to look at him, and you see a sly smile on his face.

“I think you want me,” he continues, pulling his knife back out of his sheathe and twirling the handle between his fingers. The blade catches the light as he does this. “I can see that look in your eyes.” Your breathing becomes more labored as you stare at the knife, anticipating what Leon would do with it. “I wonder…how would you feel if I fuck you senseless while I trace your skin with this? Bet you’d like that.”

Your eyes widen as heat washes over you. You involuntarily squeeze your legs together, hoping Leon won’t notice. But his eyes flicker to follow your movements immediately. His large, slightly calloused hands push your thighs back apart, his knife tucked between his right index finger and thumb. His thumbs trace along your inner thighs. You gasp and your body tenses, and Leon licks his lips at the sight as he leans in and whispers into your ear, “Keep your legs open, hun.”

He presses the knife flat against your crotch, then brings his face closer to yours. “Now let’s try this again,” he says, acting like he isn’t doing anything to you right now. “Who sent you after me?”

Keeping your legs spread open, he moves the tip of the knife along your clothed cunt. Your body reacts immediately; your fingernails dig into the cold floor, your eyes roll back slightly, and your lips tremble. “I’m not…telling you,” you breathe out.

But as he continues to tease between your legs with the knife, you find yourself becoming putty in the hands of Leon Kennedy. The name of who you’re working for slips between your lips like honey.

“Wesker.”

Ada Wong wasn’t the only one he had sent to this island. While she was tasked with retrieving the Amber, you had been tasked with eliminating the man who kept getting in the way of Wesker’s plans. Without Ada’s knowledge.

Leon doesn’t say anything for a while as he removes the knife from your body. He recognizes that name, having learned about Wesker during his time as an agent. He compresses his lips into a firm line. “Well, send my regards to that bastard,” he says, and he slides his hand under your head, lifts you up, and presses his lips to yours.

Your eyes widen as he holds the kiss for what seems like forever. You stiffen up, then relax as you allow yourself to close your eyes and return his gesture. He’s supposed to hate you. You’re supposed to hate him. You hardly understand why he’s kissing you in the first place, or why you’re kissing him back. All you know is that your desire for him boils deep in the pit of your stomach.

He sets his knife aside and undresses you while keeping his lips on yours. His fingers fumble with the buttons of your trousers. He slides them down, and more articles of clothing follow, the cold air on your skin as piece after piece comes off.

“Already wet for me,” he whispers as he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and kisses your inner thigh. His hot breath near your cunt is enough to send your mind reeling. He pulls away to reach for his knife. You close your eyes and bite your lip, feeling vulnerable being completely naked while he hasn’t removed a single article of clothing of his own.

The sensation of something sharp dragging across your bare stomach has you jolting your eyes open. You watch as Leon draws circles on your lower abdomen with the knife, not enough to cut into your skin. He moves it lower before dragging it back up to your belly button, teasing you over and over. You can’t help but whine.

“Do you want my cock now?” Leon coos, watching how each movement of the blade has you squirming. “Do you think you deserve it?”

You stay quiet for a while, since your ego is too damn big for you to admit that you want him. But he already knows your answer, and the more his knife travels across the canvas that is your skin, the wetter you can feel yourself getting.

“Please,” you whimper.

He chuckles at how pathetic you look. “You’re gonna have to say more than ‘please,’ love.”

The pet name doesn’t bother you for some reason. What does is that he’s forcing you to beg. You open your mouth, the words nearly getting trapped in your throat. “Please…I…I need your cock,” you manage to get out.

“Attagirl,” he says, unbuckling his belt with one hand with keeping his knife in the other. He slides down his trousers to his knees, and you can already see how hard he is through his boxers. He eagerly slides those down as well, the head of his cock already glistening with precum. Your heart races at how big it is.

Leon smirks at your reaction. “Look at you, so needy for my cock.” He leans down and drags his fingers along your folds before he pushes two of them inside your wetness. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you push your hips up to meet his fingers without thought. “Such a needy girl,” he says in response to your movement.

He slides his fingers in and out of you, but the moment you think he’s going to make you come on them, he pulls them out and brings his hand to his cock. “Mmpf–fuck,” he groans as he slides your wetness over his length. You feel a heat burn inside you as you watch Leon jerk himself off, his cock stiffening even more as your wetness mixes with his.

He reaches for you again, bringing your leg back over his shoulder as his tip prods your entrance. You eagerly shift your hips forward. “Please, fuck me,” you whisper, having given up on resisting him.

Leon smirks. “Who knew the woman sent to kill me was such a dirty little slut underneath the tough, cold facade?” He pushes the tip of his cock inside you, and you bite your lip in anticipation. “Need more, love?” he says as he sees the sulking expression on your face. “You’ll have to ask for it.”

You swallow down your pride once more to respond. “Please…give me all of your cock. I need it.”

“Of course you do,” he says, and then he pushes himself deeper inside you, bottoming out without slowing down or giving you a chance to adjust to his size. A series of whimpers leave your lips as you bring your hands to his hair, gripping it between clenched fists. He groans at the pain, pulling out a bit before snapping his hips into yours.

Your eyes roll back at the sensation as a low moan leaves your throat. Leon takes the knife and brings it back to your skin, tracing the tip of it under your breast while he thrusts into you relentlessly. Your body shivers. “Ungh–you feel so good,” he mutters, his voice coming out raspy. He focuses on bringing you additional pleasure, pressing the flat of the knife against your nipple. Its coolness has you whining out his name.

Leon raises his eyebrows. “Did someone just use my first name for once?”

“Shut it,” you grunt out. You can already feel that knot coiling inside you as he continues to slam his hips against yours at a steady pace. You squeeze your eyes shut so he doesn’t see you rolling them back again.

“I think you like me,” he concludes.

“No, I hate you,” you say, your eyes still shut. You shift your focus to the way his cock hits that bundle of nerves inside you with each thrust. Your walls flutter around him.

“Not with the way you just moaned out my name.” He moves his left hand to your hip, holding you in place as he fucks you. The pleasure gets to a point where you can’t hold it in anymore, and moans spill out of your mouth. Your mind becomes a haze, and the words he had just spoken don’t even process.

Your body trembles Leon moves the knife from your breast down to your abdomen, and your stomach tenses as it travels lower and lower, past your belly button and near your lower region. Your walls squeeze around him tighter this time, and Leon groans.

The words flow out of your mouth before you get the chance to hold them back. “Please–I’m so close—please.”

At this, Leon digs the knife into your flesh, nicking you with it. The light piercing sensation is enough to send you over the edge, and you tug on his hair hard as you come around his cock. “Ungh, shit–you’re squeezing the fuck outta me,” Leon groans, the added sensation of his hair being pulled on pushing him to the edge, and he soon follows as he releases himself into you.

He continues to move his hips until you’ve both come down from your highs. He sets the knife on the ground and pulls out of you, observing the mess the two of you had made just now.

“Are you okay?” he asks, dropping the teasing act and giving you a soft look. He looks around the empty room for anything he can use to clean you two up.

But you scoff, moving yourself away from him and scrambling for your clothes.

“Looks like we’re back to that, huh?” he chuckles. “Can’t keep hating me forever, princess.”

You set your jaw, picking up your clothes and putting them on one by one. You’ll have to find somewhere else to get yourself cleaned up. God, if Wesker finds out you had sex with the man you were supposed to kill, of all people… You try not to think about that as you slip your shirt over your head, the last article of clothing. You look over to the exit, deciding that you'll give Leon one more chance to live.

“Aw, don’t worry.” Leon pulls his boxers and pants up and zips himself up. “You’ll get plenty of chances to kill me later.”

“Look forward to it,” you respond dryly, and with that, you head towards the door. (i'm terrible at endings I'M SO SORRY :/ thinking about doing a part two to this- I really enjoyed writing Reader and Leon's dynamic :3) kinktober prompt list by @flightlessangelwings

#leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #kinktober #fawktober2023 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #knife kink #p in v

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youreirrelevant · 1 year

Text

Skyglow

pairing: kendall roy/reader

summary: “I want you to take care of me.” That makes him ache. Fills him with that heavy, hot feeling- the one you get when something’s a little wrong.

words: 1787

tags: explicit, sickfic, daddy kink, praise kink, but also a little degradation kink, pwp, established relationship, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, playful sex, like the tiniest bit of fluff, implied age gap, there's really nothing that establishes when this is so

a/n: I started writing this when I was sick a few weeks ago and I thought I'd finish it. It's just for fun. It's a little silly. It doesn't all have to be serious or good.

It always felt like a waste, to stay in bed all day. Somehow scrolling through your phone in the living room seemed more productive than if you did it in bed. You barely even had the energy to do that. Left thinking. Wanting. Always find your mind wandering to him and what he can do for you. A warm, soft place to rest your hands. Press your lips against.

A deep voice to coax you through what his cock brings out of you—

But the exhaustion was bone-deep. Bending a finger, lifting an eyelid- both felt nearly impossible. Even while lying down you felt weak, like you couldn’t get deep enough into the pillow, into the mattress. You needed to pool and bubble out; water spilled on the counter.

The door opening wakes you from what must’ve been the fifth nap of the day. You were in a guest room- you didn’t want to get Kendall sick. He had shit to do, things that were “unmissable.”

It’s dark. You can see out of the window from the bed; the sky is blue-black, a yellow edge on the horizon that fades up into it. Planes blink red and white across it. Only some of the windows in the other buildings are lit, and you wonder how late it really is. It's quiet; you can hear the AC running. The apartment is thrumming with a sleepy energy, like the way voices sound when you’re dozing off- blurred and smoothed at the edges.

“Can I, uh, can I sleep with you?”

You mumble that he can, voice croaky and gone. Scooting further in on the bed to make room for him- every joint aching so badly you almost whimper. He wraps his arm around you, kisses the back of your neck, and breathes. The heat on your skin makes you melt.

“I couldn’t sleep without you in there with me.”

He brings you a little closer, for emphasis.

“I’d like to say the same, but I’m exhausted.”

A little huff of air from him, an affectionate smile you can’t see. Another kiss, right along your hairline.

You both lay there for a while, but you don’t fall back asleep. The thoughts are much worse when he’s flush against you, firm thighs and a softer chest. His arms around you- you want him to use them to pull you down over him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping? You said you’re tired.” He sounds groggy, as if maybe he’d fallen asleep, for just a second.

“I know I was just- I was thinking of this,” you giggle a little, “of this tweet. Where this guy said that pussy, when someone has a fever, is crazy because it’s so hot.”

He grins so wide it hurts his face.

“Is this your way of, uh, telling me you want me to fuck you?”

“I mean- we gotta at least find out for ourselves.”

Kendall slips his hand beneath the waistband of your pajamas, uses the pads of his fingers to guide your leg up, to drape over his leg. He’s surprised to find you so wet, skin scorching against his. Wonders how long you were thinking about it. Rubs your clit slowly, and you’re practically boneless already. But then fingertips work down, towards your cunt, and you tense in anticipation. He knows you’re sick; he should be nice. But he can’t help but tease, doing it a few times until you whine his name.

“You need it that bad?”

“Please- ” you sound kind of annoyed, as if his denial doesn’t warm you.

His clothes are moved just enough, but he grips the waistband of your pants to yank them down as far as he can from his position- he wants to get at you fully. They get stuck above your knees, and you huff and whine as you kick them free clumsily. Kendall’s undeterred, puts you back where you were. Presses in easily, and maybe they were right. Your groan is distant in his ears. When he’s seated fully, he rests his forehead against your shoulder.

“Well?”

“It- it is hotter. It could be, uh-,” he makes a muffled sound, like he’s steadying himself, “be in my head, though. Placebo effect, or something.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, the noise scraping out of you so badly he almost couldn’t tell what it was.

“You’re ridiculous. You’ve been asleep all day, I come in to sleep with you and you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to take care of me.”

That makes him fucking ache. Fills him with that heavy, hot feeling- the one you get when something’s a little wrong. He places a big hand on the back of your thigh, slides it up to lift your ass cheek, spread you open.

“Like, a daddy thing, or-?”

Oh… man.

“I don’t know if we- if we have to be so- if we need to go quite that far.”

As soon as you say it you’re prepared to recant. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies and warmth but it seems so much more taboo than other things that people would actually consider worse. So heavily stigmatized, something everyone knew about and mocked. His teeth press into your shoulder, like he’s squeezing it out of you.

“Well- it does sound… kind of hot. Maybe we ease into it? Maybe ‘daddy’ doesn’t have to be said, but implied?”

His hand slips over your hip to rest on your lower stomach, a slow pull and push of his hips as his fingers find your clit again. Not wasting any time.

“You want me to ‘take care’ of you?”

Plush lips slide beneath your ear as he speaks, and every inflection and hard consonant fills you with heat. It’s your words, but from his mouth, it sounds good and perfect and right. His voice is soothing in this condescending way and it makes your lashes flutter.

“Yes, Kendall.”

He uses his palm against your pubic bone to pull you close, allow him to get deeper, fuck a little rougher. Insistent. You reach behind you to grab at his waist, fingers fisting in the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Your voice is fucked- every moan and whimper is broken and raspy and quiet. He kind of likes it, drags his lips over your neck, laughing affectionately when his finger presses harder, rubs at just the right angle, against just the right side and you cry out hoarsely. Barely able to keep your eyes open before but you want him so fucking bad.

It’s like you’re next to a fire; you can practically see a red glow coming from your skin, penetrating your closed eyelids. You’re limp, melted into the smooth sheets, rolling weakly against him when you really need it. His brows pinch and his jaw falls open with a desperate noise before his lip is tucked beneath his teeth. Kendall props himself up on his elbow, fingers slipping into your hair, damp from sweat, turns your head enough to kiss you. So slack and pliant. You don't even think to stop him.

“Does that feel better? Is this what you needed?”

Jesus. It’s as if your brain is already fried- you’re already gone. Making some noise that’s probably the saddest attempt at an ‘mhmm,’ ever been done. Trembling, pulled tighter, breathing ragged and uneven and burning in your chest and throat. He brushes the tip of his nose over your temple- his own breath puffs rapid and hot against you. Grunting when you grip even tighter.

When you cum, it's so good it hurts. Like massaging a sore muscle, or fingers into your cheeks when your sinuses ache. It seeps into your hips and belly and back and you lean into it, into him. He shushes you and you can’t help but let out this startled ‘ god .’ You want to tell him he feels perfect, fucking perfect, but the words don’t come out. His pace doesn’t falter -no matter how snug and plush and slick you are around him- and it makes it seem like it’s lasting forever.

Kendall thinks it’s lasting forever; you’re over a cliffside, on the other end of a rope, trying to pull him down when he has to keep you up. He makes sounds like he’s struggling; when you finally relax, he sounds relieved.

Part of him wants to keep it up, and he can’t help, for a second, seeing the new ease with which his fingers slip over you, pressing three flat against your labia to make you squirm from the sensitivity. But that doesn’t last long, arm moving to wrap around your waist to hold you in place. Insistent.

You’re awash with fatigue, fingers curling around the edge of your pillow, lids low over your eyes. Each time his hips meet your ass you make these pathetic little noises from the impact, sometimes barely even audible. He grabs your face again to turn you toward him- you feel hot, cheeks flushed to show it. Skin around your eyes, shiny, blueish, almost cartoonish. But you look up at him dutifully.

“You’re so pretty when you take it for me.”

That reignites something in you, makes you moan and grab at him.

“Such a pretty, perfect little girl deserves to feel good. Always desperate to cum on my cock- thinking about it when you can barely fucking think.”

You let out something between a gasp and a laugh, stunned. Thrown against the ledge but you can’t go over until you get that little bit more.

“I- Ken, can you- would you-?”

This is how it always goes- just one more. Kendall gives it to you and goes to get his, but it always puts you right there, and he can’t help but oblige. He wants to tell you to do it yourself, because you’re tired, and maybe you won’t get off and you’ll get frustrated and whine. That makes him feel orange-hot and tingly, makes his hips stutter at the thought. But that’s not what this was tonight. The wide pad of his middle finger is tight against you -swollen, slick- and even with how fast you cum, he cums faster, hips so rough against yours that you whimper and wince.

He’s almost as light-headed as you are, almost as lax, weak. Every inch of you is unbearably heavy; it's like your skin could slough off your face. It’s so good.

“I might bring a whole new, literal level to sleeping like the dead.”

Your voice cracks and you slump forward onto your stomach, keeping your face turned from him.

“At least you’ll feel better.” Smiling softly, rubbing your back.

“You’ll join me shortly, since you fucking kissed me.”

#kendall roy #kendall roy/reader #kendall roy x reader #succession hbo #succession fic #succession #reader insert #ig i'll make a masterlist or a tag for my fics or something tomorrow #my writing

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aka-libby · 11 months

Text

Counting Our Regrets

Aki Hayakawa x gn!reader | established relationship | semi-canon [ domestic tooth rotting!fluff + angst (with happy ending/comfort) ]

Word count: 4.3k

Warning(s): mentions/implied topic of de*th, insecurities about love, VERY BRIEF mentions about rough past regarding home life

Summary: Aki hated you at first but after a series of events his view on you changed. Now you’re together as a couple, with the regrets of wasting all that time hating and being avoidant of the inevitable spark you had. Yet even with these regrets on the both of you, it’s when you’re in his apartment having dinner like any other night that he finally realized how he truly feels about you.

A/N: So I have a story in the WIP folder that explains their past and how they became the couple here in this fic. There is a LOT to unfold and it’s honestly a drain to write angst and pain all the time SOOOOO I would write this fic when I’m bored and somehow I finish this one first…. so now here we are. I do hope it’s not confusing but hints enough context for readers to understand the development of the two. Plus I’m WAYYYYY too impatient to wait to post this cause I’m so PROUD OF IT UGH.

Anyways enjoy.

“Is it weird that I still get a bit nervous every time he invites me over for dinner?”

Your friend laughs over the phone. “Really?! It’s been so long now. Just breathe and treat it like any other time you guys are together.”

You’re glaring at them, even though they can’t see it. “I’m serious. You know how the past was, we hated each other… well he hated me. I don’t blame him though, it was in every way my fault for how things are but… still.”

Your friend probably heard the change in your tone towards the end. The mischievous aura drips from them. “I understand but the situation has changed now. You stopped being a lil brat and he realized the amazing person that you are underneath it. He fell for you instantly, I see it and am reminded of it everyday when I see you two in the same room.”

“Really?” You are curious now about what they meant. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t see it?” The utter disbelief from their tone surprises you more. “The way he looks at you speaks millions. Like a moth lured to a bright ass light. I believe it.”

You smile as your chest lightens from the doubts slipping off you. Their words really eased your mind. “That’s… cute.” Images of Aki flash in your mind of all the times he would get embarrassed when caught showing any form of affection. “He’s really sweet.”

“He is and it is cute but also utterly revolting.” They gag through the phone. “You two are so lovesick for one another and yet SOOOO oblivious at the same time. My eyes get cavities from seeing you two within the same radius.”

The both of you chuckle a bit before they bids their farewell. “Now go in and enjoy the dinner, okay? Tell me more about it later.”

“I will. See you soon.” You say before ending the call.

The grip on the plastic bags you have to your side tightens as you take a deep breath in and out. You know more than anyone this night will be just like any other night. Just a casual dinner with 2 co-workers/friends and your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Your lips form into a soft smile as the title lingers in your head. It feels too surreal to be together now after a year of discord between you and Aki. Then a time period of uncertainty of what kind of relationship you guys had. It was the result of the change with his thoughts about you and your thoughts about life. With Himeno’s death being the catalyst to it all.

It doesn’t help that both of you have gone through great suffering revolving around death. Life is unfair to both of you. His family was taken away so suddenly by a worldwide Devil attack while yours…

Agh, the thought hurts too much to think about.

Even with all the hurt, pain, and self projecting in denial of the truth of it all you two somehow ended up here, together. It made you happy to realize that after so long but so late. With time still ticking every single second, it’s only sooner than later that both your lives could end so suddenly.

With Aki’s time limit down to 2 years and yours still in the air, anything could happen at any moment. It was hard carrying the regret of projecting your trauma and fear of abandonment to the relationships around you. How you pushed others away to protect them and yourself. It wasn’t fair to you or your comrades.

They never got to meet the real you.

Your thoughts are cut from the feral screech coming from behind Aki’s door. You know all too well who it was, and you smile softly from the moment, as it reminds you to be present in the present. No time to dwell on your regrets, it will only waste more of your limited time.

You are with Aki now, that’s all that matters.

Finally, you take the last few steps over to Aki’s door. Knuckles barely hovering over the door before it’s busted open.

Power cheers out your name as she pulls you in for a half hug, arm over your shoulder. Her eyes don’t meet yours, instead they’re on the bags at your sides. “You brought food for me?! I'm STARVIN.”

“Hey!” a familiar voice echoes from inside. “That’s no way to treat guests!”

Power is quick to nag back at him with a roll of her eyes before taking the bags out of your hands. “Allow me!” She excitedly offers but you know there are other intentions behind her kindness. Your head shakes from her obvious facade.

Walking into the Hayakawa Residence, you instantly envelop yourself in the comforting feeling of your second home. The smell of the three housemates and the aroma of home cooked food wafts into your nose causing your previous insecurities to flee. Is this what it's like to be at ease? You’re pretty sure it is by how safe you feel once the door closes behind you.

Turning around the corner, you see Aki casually stirring a mixture of veggies in a savory sauce in a wok. It instantly waters your mouth. “Hi Love.” You greet walking over to where he is in front of the stovetop.

It was then you realize what your friend’s comment meant earlier, about how Aki looks at you. His eyes instantly shine with adoration and his body is fully turned towards you, letting go of whatever he was focused on to meet you halfway. Once you’re within his grasp, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head.

“Hello love, was the trip here okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up.” He apologizes before rubbing your back soothingly.

Shaking your head to look up, you reassure him with a smile. “It’s fine, don't worry. I can’t expect you to always pick me up and host a dinner.”

“I know but I would rather do it knowing you are safe than for you to take a taxi or walk here.” He tells you softly with his arms now draped over waist, his hands interlocked behind you. Blue eyes still looking at you. “Next time I’ll open my schedule up to do so.”

You instantly shake your head. “No, you’ve done too much for me.”

He looks at you softly, almost bittersweetly. “It feels like I haven’t done enough.”

Your lips are already on his nose before he could continue. “You’re perfect.”

Those insecurities leave him and it’s replaced by the previous admiration he first had when you walked into his field of view. Instead of replying, he just pulls you in for another tight hug, his cheek now on top of your head. His indirect way of saying many things with one action.

You mean the world to me.

I appreciate you.

Thank you.

Pulling back from the hug to check up on the veggies he was stirring earlier, you point towards the living room, where Power and Denji lay as they go through the plastic bag you brought. “I hope you don’t mind but I brought some extra food I prepared yesterday and sweets.”

“Mmm you didn’t have to. I made extra food too.” He explains as he tosses the veggies around the sauce, evenly coating each cut piece. “But I do appreciate it, thank you love.”

I smile and wrap an arm around his torso. “I don’t mind. It was going to rot in my fridge anyways with how often I eat here. Plus, you have 2 extra mouths to feed.”

His soft eyes gloss over to you, and he can’t help but feel the need to kiss the side of your head. “You’re the best.”

“Oi! Can you cook faster and stop flirting so much!” I hear Denji yell from across the place. Aki’s soft feature forms a frown as he goes to scold Denji for interrupting the moment.

Just now remembering you had more people in the room, you walk off to where the other two reside. Both are already munching on the baked goods you’ve brought, happily enjoying it while watching their show.

“Like em?” You ask Denji as you sit down next to Power. Her cat senses your presence, immediately heading over to you, purring happily under your loving touches. “Hi cutie.”

Without taking his eyes off the screen, he replies back with his mouth stuffed. “Therwe realu-

“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” Aki scolds from the kitchen.

“Whamever.” He dismisses but gulps it down anyways before continuing. “Good ass…” He draws a blank. You watch the way the gears in his mind slowly rotate as they try to put together a coherent sentence. “Good ass goods!”

Power slams her hand flat onto his back, repeatedly slapping him, and causes poor Denji to choke mid consumption of the said goods. Her boisterous laugh echoes within their flat. “You sound more stupid than usual!” She hollers out then starts shaking him.

He starts to cough from all the sudden movements and finally dryly swallows the food. Despite watching Denji almost choke, you can’t help but laugh from watching the events unfold. They really were siblings by heart.

As the conversation slowly dies, Aki takes this opportunity to step outside to smoke. Everyone sits comfortably in the ambience. With the sound of the Tokyo nightlife and the lowered volume of the TV playing some random channel, it really lured everyone to a relaxed state of mind.

It could be the combination of good food and it being quite late into the night that caused both Denji and Power to pass out on the ground. Your buzzy self smiles at the sight of them, so peaceful from the food coma. The whole environment feels so… nice.

It was somewhat odd for you. Your body is aware of the empty space where your walls and guard used to be. Not really used to this feeling of being safe and secure. Growing up in a chaotic and unstable household really puts a toll on you and your point of view on what a safe home should make you feel.

In a way, you never really felt at “home” before.

The silence you’re used to in your own apartment isn’t much different compared to what you’re currently experiencing now, but it makes you feel different. You don’t feel lonely or alienated. You feel…. comfortable. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact you are now just appreciating what a domestic life is like, but it’s a new foreign feeling. Nonetheless, it’s not unwelcome, it’s more than welcome.

You hope this doesn’t come to an end anytime soon.

Taking in a sip of the alcohol of your choice, your eyes pick up on the mess that surrounds you. Dirty plates, unfinished platters of food, both used and unused napkins sprawled over the table. Overall it was just messy, but honestly this is what's expected from a late night dinner with Power and Denji involved.

Without another thought, you stood up with your wobbly tipsy legs and started to clean up. Picking up the empty cans and garbage as you scout the room for more.

“Hey.” Aki calls out for you, head just barely poking into the apartment.

You look up at him, an empty beer can in hand. “Hey.” You greet, confused.

His brows lowered from your response. “I wasn’t saying hi. What’re you doing?”

“Oh.” A giggle escapes from your lips from your tipsy brain. You continue to pick up the beer cans and toss them into the recycling bag. “Cleaning up.” You answer simply.

“You’re a guest.” He starts off walking towards you and takes the bag. “You should be relaxing.”

“You hosted this Aki, in your own home. The least I can do is help clean up just a bit.” You explain then immediately start to stack all the dirty dishes. “How about you get the garbage and I’ll do the dishes. Hm? How does that sound?”

Leaving no room for him to argue further, you leave the living room and head to the kitchen. Aki watches as you walk away happily with the stack of dishes in hand. You look over to him once, an eyebrow raised from his stare.

“What?” You ask as you hold a soapy dish sponge in one hand and a dirty plate in the other, scrubbing away the grim and food off the plates one by one.

A lot of thoughts are running through his mind but he makes no attempt to show it. He just shrugs and chuckles. “Nothing.”

Both of you fall back into comfortable silence. Only breaking it to drop a couple of small talk here and there. With the TV still running in the back, now on the news channel. You make notes on a few topics the news anchor mentions and Aki does the same, feeling comfortable with the surface level talks.

Nothing about this was new to either of you. You always offer freely to clean up when invited over and Aki follows up by refusing you from doing so. A routine both of you are accustomed to for the past couple of months. In some way, you should feel content or happy being with someone who flows with you so easily and has grown accustomed to you over time.

But as your thoughts simmer a bit longer, a bitter side to all of this comes around. You’re reminded of the reality you’re truly in. Both you and Aki’s death are determined when you both sign your life away to Public Safety. With Aki being two years left and yours possibly just as short.

The unwavering and daunting feeling never goes away and always ruins moments like these you want to cherish and really be in, to really exist in. No matter how much you try to avoid it, the feeling was and is always there. It doesn’t help that a good chunk of your time with Aki was wasted on avoiding getting to this intimate point in your relationship.

The person you were back then would’ve looked down on you. How could you give in to these selfish desires? Get into a relationship with someone knowing the limited time you have left. It wasn’t fair to them or you. A cruel ending to have to anyone. So you did what at the time felt like the best thing to do, barricaded yourself from the world.

You were committed to keeping a facade up. A mock up personality to shield you and others from getting close to you. You hoped you could keep up with it long enough that one day you leave this world and feel relief no one would experience grief like you did.

Sadly even with trying to avoid the inevitable, you landed in the worst possible position ever. To end up regretting what you did and having to accept the conditions your fear set out for you. If only you gave up sooner than later. Maybe just maybe you would have enjoyed more of these moments with Aki.

“You okay?”

Your head whips to him, ocean eyes hold much concern. “Yeah why?”

He frowns, not convinced at all. “You’re shaking.”

It’s when he mentions it that you realized your shaky hands. Instantly you shove whatever lingering thought you had left and try to play it off as something else, despite knowing he wouldn’t believe you. “Just….” You trail off drawing a blank for an excuse.

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.” He scolds but his actions don’t mirror his words as he pulls you in for an embrace. “There’s something bothering you. You can talk to me, you know?”

You have… Already. It was a topic that was brought up quite often between the two of you. It was hard to really fully walk past the topic. No advice or form of communication would really ease the both of you of what’s yet to come. But it does in some way help temporarily. At least, until you come back to the same thought again like now.

A sigh leaves your lips when you snuggle closer into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his large frame. “You already know what it is.”

The same sigh leaves his lips as his grip tightens. “I’m here nonetheless.”

Much to his response, it does say a lot. Both of you fall into another routine. Where one would be reminded of the ticking time bomb and the other comes around to comfort them. Neither of you felt the need to speak more with how often it happens. It was a silent way of saying “I’m tired of this too, but just know I’m here for you if you wanna talk more. Just say it and I’ll be here to listen.”

After a few moments, you finally pull back to look at him. A bittersweet smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

His arms never leave you. Instead, they are holding the sides of your arms, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into you. “Anytime.”

Finishing up the last bit that was needed to be done, you both head out to the balcony. You pulled a bit of the curtain from inside to shield where his dingy white lawn chair was on his balcony. A simple but not really effective way to have some privacy from the sleeping children. As you close the sliding glass door, the chills of the night are apparent on your bare arms.

Aki sits down first then signals for you to take the spot on his lap. “Sit, I’m not making you stand.”

Well, you can’t really deny such a tempting offer. You smile at him before doing just that. Both of you adjust yourselves a bit before settling comfortably in the current position. Your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your waist, and fingers intertwined on your lap.

The soft buzz of the night life from his quiet neighborhood drowns out your thoughts as you stare aimlessly at the street lights. His arm that was once on your waist now hoists up just below your upper back. He pulls you in closer.

“Hm?” You question the sudden movement.

Aki is silent for a few seconds before talking. “I was just thinking.”

You return the same silence before saying. “Care to elaborate?”

“I…” He pauses, unsure how to say what he wants to say.

There was just too much to say and too little of the time to say it at that moment. No amount of words or poems could describe the cloud 9 feeling he gets when he sees you there, just existing in his world. It reminds him so much of everything that it overwhelms his mind and makes him draw a blank during moments like this.

Where he wants to say everything but can’t.

So many words and sentences just zoom around him like dust in the air getting blown until it turns into a tornado. Every fleeting thought gets thicker and stronger. It consumes his mind and he can’t choose nor figure out what he wants to say during moments like these. What’s something that could just say everything he needs to say all at once? To tell you he appreciates you. Wants to stay like this with you forever. To continue to live in each other's presence until time stops him for good.

To see you come through that damn door again with a big smile and sparkling eyes as you hold bags of food in both your hands happily. While greeting him with that god forsaken fucking melodic voice of yours.

It hits him.

It’s so simple but it finally hits him.

He looks down at you, meeting your eyes one last time as his nervousness clogs his own throat. The phrase in itself is simple but the meaning is so heavy, so meaningful to him that it almost scares him away from being able to say it. But it’s the only thing that really describes this feeling he feels for you.

God he should really shut up and just say-

“I love you.”

He watches closely to the way your face reacts to this statement, both out of fear and excitement. It’s when he sees the way your eyes get slightly glossy and your cheeks burn bright in warm hues like a sunrise that he reflects the same expression with the biggest smile.

Not much is said. Only the sound of multiple pecks and tender kisses from Aki as he covers your whole face with love. You giggle like a lil highschool girl from all the affection. After almost basically covering 90% of your face in kisses, you finally get a word in. Feeling overwhelmed from joy and love.

“I love you too.” You finally say, holding his face close til your noses are just barely touching. “I… Never thought you could ever love me.”

He understands very well what you meant by that. Given the history between the two of you, but he doesn’t care. At least at this moment he doesn’t. The rays of pure unfiltered feeling of love is all too consuming and subtly blinds him from truly acknowledging the double meaning to your statement.

“We have gone off on the wrong foot and I know we both regret heavily how late it is to be in this position.” He starts off in a whisper then tilts his head slightly to rub the side of your noses, lips barely hovering over yours. “But to me, in this very moment with you, without all the worries we had been dealing with before for weeks. Hell fucking months!” Raising his tone just a bit to playfully emphasize the last part of his statement. “I know for sure I love you. The person here on my lap. The body that holds your beautiful heart and the beautiful heart that holds your soul. From every bit and piece of you, that is all for me to love until I can no longer feel.”

You feel your face get more red with every word being said. It absolutely stuns you to the core and you can’t get your mind to put together a sentence or a single word to say. You’re not used to this true unadulterated form of love. It completely fried your brain, and the only response or reaction you gave were tears.

“I…” You first choke out. “I didn’t do anything special.” You sob out. The big insecure part of you is in some way confused by his declaration. “All I’ve done is hurt you, Aki. I don’t understand.”

He quickly adjusts your positions enough to fully face you from above. Your eyes are bloodshot red, cheeks wet from tears. It’s so painful to see the doubts you’ve had hidden from him resurface but he doesn’t mind. Cause you’re you. He loves you for you, therefore he loves all that comes with you.

Aki starts to kiss your tears and gently guides you to sit up on his lap. Both his hands on your cheeks, wiping the remaining falling tears with his thumbs.

“Hurt is inevitable. We’re human, hurting others will always happen whether we intended to or not. I forgive you love, because I understand what it’s like to be scared of connecting. Especially in the field we’re working in.” His voice is tender and gentle, reassuring you with much sincerity.

He takes the time to really admire every little detail about you. How your hair frames your face. The little scratches and scars from Devil attacks on the cheeks he loves to kiss. How your eyes hold every single emotion that shapes the person you are today.

Your entire being is everything to him.

“You were made to be loved. I don’t care what person or experience made you believe you weren’t but I’m telling you this now sincerely that you were made to be loved inside and out.”

As each word escapes his lips, he can’t help but inch your face closer and closer and closer until his lips just barely hover over yours.

“Especially by me.”

There was a part of you that wanted to scream at him for lying. For spewing out such bullshit to you at this moment. Cause how can someone so beautiful like him love someone so complex and messy like you? How is that possible?

Whatever the case was, there was a stronger, more hopeful side to you that believes everything he claims. It constantly clashes swords with your insecurities. The same insecurities that made you push him away.

And you know better than to do that now.

He watches the way your eyes light up just a bit as a smile forms. “I love you Aki. Thank you for being…. You.”

It’s after saying that you finally lean in and kiss him with all the same love and care he has for you. He makes no mistake to delay this. Kissing you back with all his entirety. Your souls intertwine through an invisible bond the more the kiss deepens. Unspoken love of affirmations set ablaze the passion you have for each other.

And in that very moment, both of you knew no matter how much time you guys wasted wishing and counting your regrets. You still had each other. As bittersweet as it is, that’s all anyone could ask for.

Well… Aki is hoping he could ask for your hand in marriage but let’s leave that for another time.

A/N: thanks for reading! please let me know if you see any mistakes with the gn!reader pov, this is my first :)

#aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa x gn!reader #csm x reader #aki hayakawa fluff #aki hayakawa angst #aki x reader #chainsaw man fanfic #aki hayakawa fanfic #self insert #domestic fluff

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jimilter · 1 year

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on the borderline — 04 | pjm. (m)

Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.

pairing: jimin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: humor | drama | friends to lovers!au

word count: 9.3 k

— warnings: swearing + mentions of a past toxic relationship + mentions of therapy/therapists + mentions of sex (some get detailed and explicit, hence the rating!) + some descriptive r-rated daydreaming + emotional constipation at its peaK + denial at its peaK + reader is a mess throughout + jimin cooking breakfast without a shirt 🚨 (will add more if i notice anything while proofreading!)

— note: HAPPY 10 YEARS TO BANGTAN - MY LOVE, MY HEART, MY WORLD! 🥺💜 hello world, i've crawled out of the grave two months later - who remembers me? :] anyways, parts of this aren't proofread (esp the last 2k words) bec i finished jusssst in time to post this today. will edit it in a day, tops! drop me a word~

ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.

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𝐈𝐕 ⇢ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ♪ i’m sinking faster and faster

What wakes you up is the inability to move your leg.

It’s not like you urgently need to move, either; you were just casually trying to wiggle into a more comfortable sleeping position, like everyone does at nine am on a Saturday morning, when you encountered a hindrance. Your sleep is disturbed, not out of discomfort, but more out of confusion.

Murmuring a curse under your breath, you part your crusty ass eyelids to peer at the warm and heavy human-like pillow that is laying above your blanket and restricting your movement. Wait, this pillow feels a little too giant. You do not have pillows as giant as—

Holy shit, it’s Jimin!

With a deep and loud and dramatic gasp, last night rushes back to you.

The wine, the movie, the kiss you initiated to prove that you and Jimin could kiss without making things weird – great joke, by the way – the kiss Jimin then initiated God knows why, the really good making out and the…

Fuck, the way he ate you out? You don’t remember the last time someone did it so—

Feeling your cheeks starting to heat up, you snap out of it. He’s Jimin, for fuck’s sake! Park jimin! Your childhood best friend, Park Jimin!

Your childhood best friend Park Jimin who is fantastic in bed—

No. Nope.

This is serious. And it’s bad.

Oh, God this is bad.

The heat that was climbing up your cheeks has now rerouted to your head, and your brain is slowly vaporizing under the tension.

Meanwhile, Jimin is fucking snoring away like an oblivious, angelic fucker. What? No, not angelic, no matter how soft his pouted lips look when he’s asleep, he was a demon with you in this very bed.

Almost subconsciously, you reach behind you to run a hand across the skin of your butt. It’s squeaky clean. Did he clean you up after you’d fallen asleep?

Blinking, you snap yourself out of the tender thoughts. This is no place to be thinking how good of a friend he was for cleaning you up when the reason why you were dirty had no friendly causes, whatsoever.

“Jimin!” you hoarsely call out to him, voice scratchy like sandpaper and honestly, too damn low to wake up your best friend who sleeps like a log.

Sitting up under the constricting blanket with difficulty, you scowl at him and shove his shoulder.

“Park Jimin! Wake the fuck up!”

No movement, not even a change in his breathing pattern, not even a lapse in the muted snores.

“Jimin!” you try a little louder this time, patting his cheek – so soft and warm, it’s hard to remove your hand from it – and he finally stirs. “Hey, wake up!”

Petulantly whining, he turns his head to the other side. “W’ass th’ime?”

What? Oh, time?

You check your bedside clock. “Uh, it’s nine. Oh fuck! You have a flight at noon! Wake up, Jimin!”

He groans and tries to fucking turn away. “I can get ready in an hour… Lemme just… th’rty minuhs…”

“Jimin, oh my God—” You break off, choosing to instead tug the blankets off him.

And. Well. It backfires, because he’s as naked as you underneath that. Almost involuntarily, your gaze traces his defined pectorals and travels down across his very prominent abdominal muscles, and then –

You shut your eyes.

He’s hard.

Swallowing roughly, you clumsily tug the blanket back up to his waist, shivering a little when your fingers accidentally brush his warm skin.

“Jimin,” you begin again, weakly, “please wake up. We really need to talk.”

That makes him sigh and finally crack one eye open to peer up at you. “What do you—”

His lips part, scanning the way you sit with your shoulders bare and covers held up to your chest.

“Oh.”

You can see the moment recollection makes it back to him, both eyes opening, now and widening just a fraction. Then he exhales and promptly shuts his eyes again.

What?

Is he going back to sleep?

“Jimin, what the fuck? Get up!”

With a grumpy whine, Jimin finally moves to sit up in bed, scowling at you with his whole face and looking absolutely adorable. Wait, no—

“What is it?” he murmurs through his pouty mouth, eyes swollen and barely open. “What couldn’t wait for thirty fucking minutes?”

Your jaw slowly drops. “Do… you do remember that we had sex last night, right?”

He nods. “Couldn’t be more obvious.” He points at a dark mark on your chest peeking above the blanket you’ve wrapped around yourself.

Tugging the damn cloth higher up, you gape at the guy. He sits simply blinking at you, and you can’t tell if he’s just sleepy or really that unbothered. “And…? Doesn’t it, like, bother you? At all?”

“Bother me?” He frowns and cocks his head to the side, looking at you as if you’re speaking a language he can’t understand.

“Jimin. We had sex.”

He blinks again, nonchalant as fuck, and then nods. “Yes, we did.”

At your wit’s end, you fist your free hand in your hair. “Dude. We – we had sex. It… It…”

Your stuttering, already mortifying in itself, gets tenfold worse when you can’t find the words to express yourself. Or maybe you do have the words, but you’re not sure how to voice how shockingly your world has been turned upside down when the other half of the involved party looks this cool about it. You are starting to feel like you’re making a big deal out of nothing – but you know it’s not fucking nothing!

“It was… amazing?” Jimin finishes for you with raised eyebrows, looking more awake but still as unbothered, and that is absolutely not where you were going with your sentence. But he’s not done: “Fantastic? Uncannily good and possibly the best sex you’ve had in a while? ’Cause same.”

And now he’s grinning at you and you’re at a loss. Frowning furiously to hone your focus in when your head has started to ache, you shake your head and try again. “Ye–yeah, all – all of that, yes, but also something that shouldn’t have happened!”

Jimin’s eyes narrow at you. “Are you trying to tell me you regret it?”

“Yes! Obviously! You don’t?”

“Why would I?” He shrugs his shoulders and brushes a hand through his hair, not a single expression changing on his face. “It was really good, we used protection and—”

“Okay, stop!” You interrupt him with a wince, eyes screwed shut. “I cannot do this without coffee.”

—

"I—wow. Maybe I can't do this with a coffee either.” You have frozen at the entrance to your kitchen to gape at the sight of your best friend's shirtless back as he sears something in a pan on the stove. “Not without a whole fucking pot of it.”

At your declaration, Jimin turns his head to cock an eyebrow at you over a shoulder, and you shoot a curse at yourself in your head for the clench your insides give. He looks so good like this. It's so wrong and wholly unfair.

Because you have hung out with a shirtless Jimin plenty of times in your life. You’ve objectively admired his build, too, because one – it has been your duty as his best friend and regular wingwoman to give him reviews, and two – for a female that likes men, you’d have to have been a saint to not admire his beautiful body, like, come on.

But never have you ever had such a visceral reaction to the sight. This is what you get for getting to know all those solid muscles up close and personal and freaking tasting his skin, you’ve been so fucking stupid, good God—

"Please put on a shirt, man," you sigh, attempting to avert your eyes but failing.

Jimin, the absolute dick, rolls his eyes at your request. And then just snorts at you and turns back to the stove, as if he finds the suggestion hilarious. As if you're not seconds away from throwing yourself at him and damaging your friendship more than it has been damaged so far.

Why is he acting so normal? You’re starting to hate your best friend.

After your conversation had been halted in the bedroom, you left the bed to wash your face and throw on a fresh hoodie because you did not wanna wear the one that’s been sitting on your living room floor all night, not when it reminds you of where and how Jimin ate you out. Dear God. You also stole some coffee from the pot while Jimin washed his face. After which you tossed him out to brush your teeth because your mouth tasted like ass, and assumed he'd use the time to dress up because he had to leave soon.

You did not expect the very domestic sight of him cooking – let alone the very erotic version of it that his state of undress depicts.

And now you're experiencing a meltdown because the man's back muscles are visibly rippling with his motions. The slight bruises you've caused by running your nails across them shine a brilliant red against the taut, golden skin. Taunting you. Reminding you of how you lost your goddamn mind, last night.

You feel embarrassed. But you also feel horny.

Which makes you feel doubly embarrassed.

The guy stays completely unbothered, though, humming to himself and fiddling with the damn omelet he's making that smells too fucking good and makes your stomach rumble.

Why is he making your life so difficult, in every single way?

Sighing, you collect all remnants of your willpower, sanity and self-respect, to turn away and stomp your way back to your bedroom. Grabbing a hoodie from your closet, you stomp your way back to the kitchen, this time stepping in and bravely walking up to your best friend, and press the article of clothing into his back.

"Min. Please just put some clothes on and let me have a full cup of coffee. Please."

This time Jimin fully turns to face you with amusement in his eyes and concealed laughter on his lips if the way he's got them pursed is anything to go by. You resolutely do not look beyond his face, instead turning your gaze to the tamagoyaki this man has expertly whipped up in the time it took for you to brush your teeth.

"This looks so good, how'd you make it?"

Jimin steps away with a laugh, finally accepting the hoodie from you to throw it on. "You had an appropriate pan and nice, bamboo chopsticks. That's all it takes."

That is not all it takes, but you're gonna stop arguing because the three sips of coffee that you could stomach with your unbrushed mouth have been exhausted by this interaction and you need more fuel to go on.

So you and Jimin find yourselves on your kitchen island with the Japanese omelet, a pot of coffee and your respective mugs, quietly eating, sipping and holding a staring contest.

Because now that he's appropriately covered, all the reasons why last night was a horrific idea have made their way back to you. You feel like this is the last time you're sitting and eating together, and it's becoming increasingly hard to stomach the impossibly delicious omelet Jimin has prepared.

He is the one to eventually break the stare, giggling at you when you glare at him over the rim of your mug. “Stop looking so mad, babe. So maybe last night shouldn’t have happened, but at least it was good, yeah?”

“How can you be so fucking happy and calm when I’m literally going through an existential crisis, right now?”

Amusement in his curved eyebrows, Jimin hums as he takes a sip from his cup. “Ever heard of post-orgasmic afterglow?”

“For fuck’s sake, Min!” Throwing your head back, you release a groan. “We really got drunk and put our friendship on the line! We – we swore we’d never do anything to jeopardize our bond and then we have sex like some stupid horny teenagers? Last night should not have happened, Jimin!”

That makes him clear his throat and stop laughing. And then, with the most straight face ever, he asks you: “Okay, but at least the sex was good, right?”

You are fucking dumbfounded. “The sex—”

“Was it or wasn’t it? You haven’t said a word about the quality of the sex and I’m starting to get worried…”

“Jesus Christ, yes, it was fucking bomb, but—”

“Well, then that's one win!” He claps his hand together, stepping off his seat to walk up to you and put both his palms on your shoulders. “Now that we are past that, rest assured that this won’t affect our friendship. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that—”

“I can and I am. I’ve known you since we were, like, twelve.”

“I hated you when we were twelve,” you remind him with a pout.

He laughs at that. “Yeah, but you also had a crush on me when we were thirteen, so explain that, huh?”

Despite the events of last night, his mention of your past crush on him still manages to make your cheeks heat up. Doesn’t help that he looks like this when he’s talking about it, all soft in the huge hoodie you basically forced him, a sweet smile pulling his lips up and eyes sparkling.

“We are way beyond ruining our friendship, trust me,” he tells you again, jostling you by your shoulders. “And honestly, this doesn’t have to affect anything if we don’t let it. So we have great sexual chemistry. Honestly, are you really that surprised?”

You’re really not because your brain has been going wild ever since his birthday party, but what the hell does he mean by that?

At your wide eyes, he throws his head back in a laughter.

“Hasn’t it always been like that between us?”

“Like what?” You feel so fucking clueless, you’re half afraid Jimin’s about to call you out on your confession of your fantasizing and you’re bracing yourself for the embarrassment.

“We get on each other’s nerves all the time, but we also love each other. Those sorts of things tend to build sexual tension, dude,” he explains as if he's telling you about a scientific experiment, and you shove his hands off of you with a scowl.

“You didn’t just talk about our supposed sexual tension and then call me dude in the same sentence, weirdo.”

He’s laughing now, eyes disappearing in a squint as his cheeks push up into them, and the sight is too endearing for you to not smile in adoration. “My point was,” he finally concludes, “that we can make it work. It doesn’t have to happen again, we don’t even have to ever talk about it.”

You like the sound of that. Humming, you take a sip from your coffee and nod. “That sounds like something I'd like to do. Can we put this in the past forever?”

“Yes, we can.” Jimin nods, giving you a thumbs-up before he raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I can’t promise I won’t make jokes about some stuff, because, boy do you have the weirdest erogenous zones. The way you went crazy when I bit into your shoulder? I mean who—”

“Hey, shut the fuck up! I have normal erogenous zones!” You seamlessly slip into the banter, pointing a finger at him. “It’s you that has an ass fetish. You exploded at the sight of my ass!”

A loud gasp leaves him and Jimin places a hand on his chest. “Are you trying to kink shame me?”

“You started it!”

“But you made it worse.” Jimin sighs, dramatically pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what? You were right. Sleeping with your best friend is a bad idea, and this is why. You already know each other inside out, the only thing you’re unaware of is each other’s sexual lunacy. Now we’ve broken that barrier, we’re absolutely gonna kill each other.”

You’re barely able to keep your face straight after that, breaking into loud laughter. Because he isn’t wrong. You know for a fact you have never had that reaction to being bitten on the shoulder, obviously. Not that you can even recall someone’s teeth being there. But with Jimin, it was just something about him that did the trick.

His joke alleviates the pressure that this realization could bear down on your chest, though, and that feels a lot freeing.

Maybe this can be okay. Maybe you can move forward without a wall of awkwardness rising between you two.

You will move on with your lives and treat last night as something that came your way – and then passed. Kind of like your crushes on each other during your teenage years. It helped that they never really coincided, but it also had to have helped that you never gave them enough importance to even discuss what you had felt, at the time.

Maybe you shouldn’t be giving this as much importance, either.

It’s you and Jimin! Homies! Bros for life, remember?

Yes, you absolutely do.

So you lean in to hug the guy. “This cannot change anything, okay? Please.”

“It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman.” He laughs but loops his arms around you to tug you closer. “And I don't intend to let that happen.”

You don’t either.

You don’t.

You really don’t.

But…being this close to him is giving you flashbacks to being this close to him when you were naked, and that is making you feel hella hypocritical. Maybe this is just your version of an afterglow; maybe your brain's still high on serotonin. You’ll get over it after this heady rush of last night's multiple orgasms has left.

Clearing your throat, you separate from him with a tight smile – only to come face to face with a blooming purple and red mark at the base of his throat.

“Fuck, I left a mark!”

Jimin tries to follow your gaze with a cocked eyebrow, but when he can’t, you place a finger against the spot, smudging it as if you’re trying to wipe lipstick off. Which Jimin snorts at, “Yeah, that’s not gonna erase a hickey, ma'am.”

Jimin’s snickering is met by your groan, and you push a finger into his chest. “Please cover that up before you leave for your trip. And keep it covered? You’ve packed turtlenecks, right? You’re obsessed with them!”

Laughter trickles through Jimin, nostrils flared because he has his lips folded in to hold it in. “Why? I could just tell them my girlfriend gave them to me as a parting gift. No one'll question me, anyways.”

“Dude, you’re going with Tara! And I had a very long conversation with Avni, and—” You break off, unsure about divulging the details of that conversation. “And she…knows we’re just friends.”

“Oh, yeah. Tara. She, um, she’s not the type to ask questions, you know?”

Now that he’s kinda awkwardly looking away and stumbling with his sentence again, you’re reminded of the way he’d stuttered about Tara's name on the phone as well. From what you know, the girl has a husband. Why is your best friend being so suspicious about her?

“But I could always say someone else did this.”

Now wait just a second. Why does that make you wanna scowl?

What kind of teenager shit is this? ‘I worked on this hickey, don’t give someone else the credit?’

God, you need an aspirin.

His dick game really has you hovering in a limbo. But to be fair, it hasn’t even been a whole twelve hours ever since you got into it.

This is definitely gonna take you some time to get over.

Good thing Jimin’s leaving for the next few days, then.

“Do whatever, just – I don’t wanna hear your secretary telling any more of your clients about your girlfriend visiting your office, okay?”

He blinks at you, lips pouted in mock innocence. “Even if it's not you?”

“What? No! Our pact still holds!”

“What if you and Seokjin hit it off tonight, though?”

Seok—

Holy shit, you forgot about Seokjin!

What the fuck is wrong with you? You have a maybe-can-be-probably date with a guy and you literally slept with someone else the night before? It’s obviously worse that it was your best friend, but even so. How did you not even remember about the date?

Wow, you hoe. This is a new low.

And damn, you and Jimin never ended up having that discussion about your ability to recognize your feelings, after all.

Well. After the events of last night, you don’t think you’ll be needing that conversation, after all. It’s bad enough that you had sex with someone other than the guy you’re going to dinner with, the least you can do is respect both the men enough to not make it a date.

Even as the narrative plays out in your head, you know you’re mostly making excuses. And maybe that should be enough to tell you how desperately your subconscious does not wanna get back into the aspects of romance.

If only the people around you (read: Park Meddling Jimin) could understand as much.

“I really don’t think that’s happening, Min,” you simply state in response, deciding to keep all of your thoughts to yourself for once.

And Jimin, for once, takes it simply enough, nodding with a small smile. “Well. I still hope you have a good time with him.” He checks his phone, and then gathers you in a quick side hug. “It’s close to ten, I gotta run. See you some time next week?”

You nod. “But stay in touch, okay?”

“Of course! And you too – keep me updated about how things go!” When you scowl, he laughs. “Even if you stay friends, grumpkin.”

“Stop trying to make that happen, it’s not gonna happen!” You push at him and he rolls his eyes with a giggle.

“Sure, Regina George.”

Waving at him, you laugh as Jimin quickly stuffs his last night’s rolled up clothes in a backpack he’s borrowing from you and grabs his glasses from the clutter on your coffee table.

“Have a safe flight, Gretchen!”

“Shut up! Will text you after I land!”

“You do that, Min!”

And then he’s slipping out of the door, dousing your apartment in silence.

Your eyes casually move toward the coffee table that you will have to clean up, and accidentally land on the couch.

Fuck.

There’s an immediate throb between your legs when your gaze scans the area where you… well, made out with Jimin and had him basically devour you.

Fuck, indeed.

Jimin was very correct. Last night was some of the best sex you’ve had in a while.

In a really long while.

It’s gonna you take longer than a few days to get over it. How Jimin was able to get back to normal so easily is beyond you.

But then again – maybe he was putting up a front because he knew he’d be leaving for two days and will be able to get your mind off of last night.

Damn, he’ll be back in just two days? Shit, that doesn’t feel like a nearly big enough time period all of a sudden.

Especially right now when you’re cleaning up your coffee table with your throat dry and your panties wet. You’ll never be able to have him over because every time he sits on this couch, you’ll be reminded of last night.

Fuck, maybe you can never even talk to him normally because every time you look at his lips, you won’t even have to imagine what they can do to you because you now know what they can do to you.

How the hell are you gonna face him in two days?

You're broken out of your thoughts by the ping of a message on your phone.

10:17 AM | Text Message from Seokjin (office) Hey, we never discussed how we're meeting! Would you like me to pick you up?

You suck in a sharp breath. Seokjin. The date.

Right.

This does not feel right, good God.

A grimace on your face, you type in your response, asking the guy to meet you at the restaurant. You are not showing him your place, just yet. Or at all. And you do not wish to be in another guy’s car when the smell of your best friend’s cologne mixed with the musk of his cum is still stuck to your fucking lungs.

For a brief moment, you wonder if you should cancel the date.

But then you recall the conversation you had with Jimin less than half an hour ago.

This cannot change anything, okay? Please.

It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman. And I don't intend to let that happen.

You don’t intend to let that happen, either, which is what stops you from canceling the date.

Besides, maybe hanging out with a guy you’ve been admiring and flirting with might actually help? Now that you’ve established that last night’s activities have to be water under the bridge, there’s nothing wrong with attempting to find a distraction to help you cross that bridge, right?

Jimin, for one, seems to want you to do that really bad.

A weird feeling tugs at your stomach when you recall his insistence on you working things out romantically with Seokjin. But because you already have a huge pile of dogshit on your plate to deal with, you refuse to think further about the pang and instead attempt to focus on the outfit you will be wearing.

You end up wearing a knee length, a-line dress with no sleeves – the right amount of pretty, hot and available, without being too much. It’s a deep navy in color, but no surprise there because ninety percent of your closet comprises dark shades of blues.

On your short drive to the Korean BBQ place you are to meet up with Seokjin at, you blast The Weeknd at full volume and enjoy a solo karaoke of Starboy. When you get there, you drop a text to your date and receive an immediate reply telling you the location of the table he’s sat on.

He’s here before you which would leave you no time to compose yourself before you face the guy. Good thing you were a mother-effing starboy in the car, five minutes ago.

Inhaling deeply and then exhaling, you exit your car and elegantly walk up to the cute entrance to the restaurant. The place’s ambience kinda surprises you because it looks a lot upscale than the usual KBBQ places you’re used to frequenting. Gold and white aesthetics surround you, not ideal for a place which deals in smoking food, but the level of cleanliness that the decor still manages to maintain has you humming in appreciation.

But then again, you shouldn't be surprised – Kim Seokjin eludes lavishness.

Speaking of, you’re able to spot the man the moment you step foot into the place. And, admittedly, his crisp suit jacket and combed back hair make you space out so hard, you miss the doorman’s whole greeting. Seokjin immediately catches your eye, too, curling his plump lips into that smirk he flashes at people when he knows he’s got them under his spell.

Well. He’s not wrong, there.

Walking up to him – only after bowing at the doorman, because mama didn’t raise a mannerless bitch – you smile at his sweet gesture of pulling a chair out for you. Even the chimney above your table has intricate carvings on it, looking like something out of a royal kitchen.

When he’s finally seated back in his place across from you and has allowed his smirk to bloom into a full smile, you nod your head in polite greeting. “You look good today.”

Seokjin waves a hand of perfectly manicured nails and delicate rings in front of his face. “Oh, please. I look good everyday.”

Uh…

Did you mishear him? The place is buzzing but it’s not that loud.

But given the serene smile on his face, he doesn’t look like he just made a joke. Yeah, you must have misheard him.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.”

Wow, the pace at which heat fills your cheeks is so embarrassing. Jimin would never let you live it down if he knew, especially given what all you managed to get up to without any blushing business, last—

Okay, what the fuck?

You hope Seokjin doesn’t notice the momentary panicked widening of your eyes.

Did you really just almost think about the one event in your life that you’re supposed to forget about? Granted, it happened less than 24 hours ago – but you’re on a date. With another guy. And he just complimented you.

At this point, you should really be ashamed of yourself.

“Th–thank you, hehe.”

Did you just stutter? And fake-giggle?

Good God, you’re going to cry. This isn’t the afterglow the world promised you.

Thankfully, Seokjin jumps to discussing food straight away without attempting any small talk. And he’s pretty enthusiastic about it, too – asking for all his favorite side dishes and then encouraging you to add on yours to the order as well.

“Do you, um, come here often?” It takes you a while to frame that question but as soon as it is out of your mouth, you immediately realize that it can sound like you’re asking him if he’s been on other dates here. Often.

Your social skills are on an all time low tonight, God help you…

But Seokjin, thankfully, doesn’t think that far and simply nods. “Oh, yes. I know the manager, so I’ve been coming here since they opened a year ago.”

Ah, so he’s somewhat of a social butterfly.

Immediately, your brain wants to switch to thinking of another social butterfly in your life and make unnecessary comparisons – but you stop that line of thought before it can take form, by smiling wide at Seokjin. He’s so fucking handsome and you’re honestly just wasting it.

“That’s nice! Does he offer you discounts?” Your sense of humor might be broken, but at least this embarrassment stays on the surface and doesn’t make you wanna hide beneath the table.

Chuckling at your question, Seokjin leans over the table and gestures for you to lean closer as well – which you do. “The dude’s actually my brother in law, so fat chance, I’d say.”

You laugh a little louder than necessary on the joke, partially giggling out of relief that your lame ass joke didn’t get rejected.

He might not get discounts, but the service for your table definitely seems to be a little faster and more full of smiles than it is for the other patrons. Well. You're not complaining.

Seokjin smiles and nods at your server as well, respectfully tucking his hands in his lap to allow the guy enough room to set your table. After the server leaves, Seokjin is quick to set arrange the meat on the furnace – hands moving expertly as he twists and turns the strips around according to the level of cooking each portion requires.

He is a gentleman to the tee, cutting the meat up for you and everything, but is also careful about boundaries because he forwards his chopstick to your plate and not your mouth. Although you're sure your dumbass would have opened your mouth to accept the bite if he would’ve offered, too, without realizing the implications of letting your date feed you.

"Good?"

You hold back a moan when the soft and tender meat melts in your mouth, instead choosing to cover your lips daintily with a hand and nod at Seokjin with wide eyes. A comment about you being pronographic with food from a certain someone crosses your mind, and you resist the urge to sob out loud because you need to stop thinking about last night.

"So good," you manage to murmur back, giving Seokjin a thumbs up with your chopstick hand.

He grins at you before taking a bite himself, and – oh, man. He certainly doesn't hold back on the moans. You're barely able to contain your reaction when the man suddenly throws his head back and releases a deep groan that travels through your body in vibrations.

There's no way to stop your brain from bursting out a whole NSFW scenario, now, that features you on your knees between the man's legs, swallowing his dick as if it's your last meal on earth.

Damn. Man’s never even mentioned if he even has any romantic intentions with this whole thing or if he’s just treating you because he felt bad for you missing out on the group outing yesterday – and here you are, being obscene about him enjoying his food. How very pathetic of you.

It gets worse, though, because Seokjin suddenly opens his eyes and meets your gaze that you know for a fact has gotten all heavy lidded and dark. Evidenced by the way his eyebrows slowly rise up and tongue flicks out to lick away the remnants of grease from his bottom lip.

"It is good," he murmurs, winking at you.

Yeah no, he's definitely got at least flirtatious intentions. A little flustered, you clear your throat and look away from him, picking up a slice of pickled radish to distract yourself.

"So…" Seokjin begins and then pauses, causing your gaze to connect with his again because he isn't the type to really hesitate.

But there's a slight dusting of pink on his cheekbones right now that could very well be a result of the heat from the grill – but the undertones of grimace behind his smile suggest to you that it's not. Oh dear. Is he nervous?

"Just so we are on the same page… I'd been planning to do this for a while now."

A… while? He's not about to profess his undying love, is he? Your back straightens in alarm, but you force your lips to form a grin. "Ask me on a… date?"

He shrugs a shoulder, tilting his head. "Not necessarily a date, no. Just spending time with you one-on-one."

Oh, thank fuck.

"I know it's not just me that feels like this pull between us, right?"

Yep, it's not just him. Although you won't exactly call it a pull. It's a tap, at best. Or even a touchless beckoning? You weren't lying when you said you only objectively admire his good looks.

But you're not about to tell him that.

Smiling at him, you nod. "We're on the same page, then. It's not just you. But… why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Ask to do this earlier?"

And you do genuinely wonder. Because now, too, he's almost tricked you into this instead of being forthright with it. You're, like, seventy-eight percent sure you'd have rejected him if he mentioned the word date, but he doesn't know that. Or does he?

Your eyes narrow slightly as Seokjin gives a self-conscious cough of laughter, hand behind his neck. "Well, I wasn't really sure you were… y'know, available?"

Now hold on a second – that's bullshit. You've never made it a secret that you've been as single as they come, ever since you joined this company three years back. Well, you've also made it known that you aren't exactly available either, but what are the odds of Seokjin completely missing the first half and yet catching onto the second one?

Unless you mixed it up and made it seem that you are unavailable because you had somebody? Oops.

"What do you mean?" you ask him with a light chuckle, leaning towards the table as he reduces the heat on the grill.

He rolls his eyes, looking at you with a small smile that feels a tad condescending; as if he's about to go, ‘oh, you poor child,’ on you. "That friend of yours? He began to come around a lot, picking you up after work every other day and stuff. I assumed you'd started seeing someone. We all did.”

“Jimin…?” you mumble in surprise because you'd been so eager to spend every minute of your free time with him when you moved to town that you never paused to consider how it looked. "No, we're just friends! He's my best friend, and we're close. But there's nothing there."

Oh no. Why are you talking about him? You were supposed to not even think of the guy – why did you begin to discuss him?

Well now it's too late, because the can of worms has been opened. Now your thoughts are cascading on themselves like a glitching Windows XP screen.

Your brain's been sent into an obscene overdrive – as if you’d been holding the gates shut to all these images with your back pressed against them and now they’ve been pushed open by this huge wave that flattens you to the ground and engulfs you in itself. And suddenly, you’re reliving it – his hot exhale against your neck, fingers gripping at your hips, tongue flicking over your nipple, teeth digging your flesh.

Best friend? Right.

Sweat is trailing down your neck and your gaze is stuck unseeingly in your plate full of food that Seokjin has deposited there for your consumption.

Seokjin.

Fuck.

You’re on a fucking date – with another guy.

What the fuck are you doing?

"So yeah,” escapes you in a broken imitation of a chuckle when Seokjin nods, while you try to suppress the slight tremble in your hand when you wave it before your face to emphasize words. “He's just a friend.”

Who gave you the best pounding of your life, but that’s the fine print no one likes to read.

“Yes, yes, I’ve gathered as much now.” Seokjin’s smile is so wholesome, you feel like you’re violating his aura by breathing the same air as him when your mind's so pathetically filthy. “So… about that same page conversation – what do you expect out of this? A casual hangout? Friendship? Something…more?"

Wow, so this guy is actually a pretty cool guy if you look beyond the narcissism, the overenthusiasm and the noseyness. Quite a list to look beyond, but you do reckon him to at least be friendship material with the thoughtfulness his question displays.

The question, though. What do you expect?

Exhaling, you lean back in your seat and squint into space to think about it. You can’t exactly tell him that you're not the least bit emotionally invested in this and would have just tried to get into his pants if it wasn’t for your best friend’s insistence. But number one: you can’t exactly lie to him because that’d be blatantly leading him on and potentially hurting him; number two: he didn't really present you with an option fitting for this.

You need to find a middle ground.

Because for wholly selfish reasons that you shouldn’t even be involving Seokjin in, you need his company. You need him as a friend, as a potential bed-mate if he's interested. You need him as someone you can spend time with so as to not spend all of it with the one person who's had your brain in a blender since last night. But friendzoning him isn't the way to go, so you're gonna need a second, third, fourth date – whatever number it takes for you to heal the chemical explosion in your head and be a normal human again.

So you need to find a middle ground.

Which just so happens to be you smirking right back at the guy and giving a carefree shrug. "How about a casual hangout with the potential of a friendship with the side of… something else?"

Seokjin bites down on his bottom lip before he smiles again giving you that knowing, tad condescending smirking pull of his lips. Leaning closer to mimic your position, he raises a tentative finger and traces the back of your hand with it, gaze dark but playful. "Sounds fun."

You turn your hand over to allow his fingers to trace the soft, more sensitive skin of your palm instead, grinning at him. "I am fun."

Snorting, he withdraws himself and nods at you. "And funny. I like it."

The compliment makes you grin wider, even though his standards of 'funny' are sure to be questionable with the kind of jokes you've seen him make and laugh at.

The two of you lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence after that, focus shifted to the food. A few words about the quality of the meat and the level of cooking are tossed here and there. Seokjin is definitely a food lover and definitely knows more about cooking than your average guy. He eventually tells you he used to be a good blogger in his early twenties, which you find kind of cute.

You still don't know what he actually does for a living now, however, and the question must be obvious in your squinted gaze when you're cleaning your hands with a wet wipe because kimchi juices cannot be managed by sheer tissue paper.

"I guess it's time I told you," he begins, getting up with you as the two of you prepare to leave.

You raise an eyebrow. "Tell me what?"

"About my profession."

At the reception, you're preparing to put up a fight to split the bill, when Seokjin simply asks the cashier to put this on my tab, grabs some breath mints, and walks away. Following him with a dumbfounded stare, not before popping a breath mint in your own mouth, you see the way the doorman grins at the guy before bowing and you briefly wonder exactly how often he must come here to be able to bhule up this amount of familiarity. And a whole tab.

Your question is hilariously answered the next moment, when Seokjin walks up to your car and leans against it with a smile, pointing at the building with a raise of his eyebrows.

"I own this place."

"What?" You gape at him in pure confusion. "You… the restaurant? But you… you said…"

"My brother in law's the manager, yes, but this restaurant is mine. Actually, there's a chain of these around the country and a few abroad. We started out five years ago, but… business has kinda flourished recently. You don't frequent KBBQ places often, I see."

Okay, wow. Handsome, flirty and rich? Forget being friends, this dude is total Sugar Daddy material! That, and this also explains his knowledge of food and all the free time he's always got on his hands. "Ah… that's really amazing!"

"It kinda is, if I do say so myself."

Overlooking the narcissism, you hum and move to stand next to the guy, your back against your car, arms brushing his. Despite all his red flags, Seokjin is awfully good at picking up clues, you'd give that to him. Because with a slow twist of his heeled shoes, he moves to hover above you, arms extended and hands braced on the door of your vehicle next to your shoulders.

His breath washes over your face, minty but warm, and his dark eyes pull you in. "This was fun."

You attempt to smirk at him, but your lips tremor for some unknown reason. Not to mention the weird weight that pulls at your stomach at his proximity.

You try to goad yourself into reacting. A horny grab of his coat lapels would be better than staring at him with wide, borderline scared eyes.

What the fuck is wrong with you, you absolute idiot? Where's that imagery of getting on your knees for him now? Remember the horny rush you felt when he moaned after taking a bite of his food?

But nothing works, your throat swallowing your nerves repeatedly and yet failing to clear all of them out of you.

Seokjin looks visibly confused at your lack of reaction, but still smiles at you for a moment and brings a hand in to cup the side of your face in his warm palm.

Alarm bells blare loud and shrill in your head, your skin tingling at the contact with his and not in a good way.

The weight in your stomach expands upwards, pressing onto your chest, and the warm breaths on your face suddenly feel not so pleasant anymore.

Or rather, they don't feel right.

The smell of Seokjin's woodsy cologne, his height towering over you, the calluses in his palm – everything feels wrong.

It should be citrus, you should be tilting your head at a different angle, the calluses should be on the fingertips.

It should be Jimin.

Fuck.

You're fucked.

"I… I'm sorry, Seokjin, I.m. I don't think I can do this."

Eyes wide and almost horrified, he immediately jumps away from you with both his palms raised up. "Woah woah, did I overstep? I'm so sorry! Shit, I should've asked for your permission before stepping so close—"

"No, no, it's not you! You were reading the signs and you were reading them right." You reassure him, trying to regulate your breathing now that you finally can breathe properly. "I was into it, I swear! I mean… I thought I was into it. But I…" You sigh, placing a hand over your forehead to give an embarrassed shake of your head. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, please don't apologize." Seokjin shakes his head tenderly, looking at you with a frown that spells concern as well as confusion. But then he grins at you, clearly trying to make a joke out of the situation to ease you down. "There will always be more opportunities to make out, my lips aren't going anywhere!"

Oh… But you don't think there will be. You don't want there to be.

He reads something on your face and slowly raises his eyebrows. "Or maybe not?"

You give a weary sigh, shutting your eyes and slumping against the silver of your car. "I really really don't wanna lead you on, Jin. You're an amazing guy, and… I'd really love to have a friend in you. But I don't think I'm in the right mindspace to invest into anything further than that."

And it is so weird to confess something that has been true for years – except now, it's in a wholly different context. You have steered clear of emotional entanglements for so long because of the way things went south with your ex. That hasn't stopped you from pursuing physical intimacy, however.

But right now, you're stepping away from the latter as well.

You can feel your brain shutting down on your emotions, refusing to let you assess what you feel, least of all why you feel it. But you most certainly were craving your best friend when another guy was just about to kiss you – so you are most certainly, very royally fucked to a huge degree.

When you finally meet Seokjin's gaze again, trying to avoid your thoughts, he's looking at you with a small smile. It is an extended version of the condescending one you've seen him wear multiple times tonight, except this one seems more sweet than tainting.

"Can I ask you something?"

You blink at the unexpected question. "You just did," you lamely mumble, cringing at your own self. "Sorry. Yes, please, go ahead.

He laughs and tilts his head to the side. "Is Jimin really just a friend to you?"

Eyes widening in surprise, you're at a loss of words at the suddenness of the question. It's not an unfamiliar one – far from it. In your entire existence as Jimin's best friend, you've encountered it more times than you can count; as best friends usually do, before they laugh it off and call each other gross.

But, strangely enough, facing it this time brings out an emotion that is far from humor. It, in fact, takes you back to that time in college when you were all nineteen and you'd freshly revealed about your past crush on Jimin during some game amongst your group of friends. Wheein, Jeongyeon and Seungcheol, the three other friends that completed your group of five, then took it upon themselves to tease the two of you at every chance they got.

You claimed your crush was old and you'd gotten over it – and yet butterflies filled your tummy every time Jimin flirtatiously wiggled his eyebrows at you at their insistence. You didn't even go to the same college, man used to make you lose braincells over video calls!

Those similar butterflies occupy the cavity beneath your diaphragm now too, as you stay blinking at Seokjin, taking way too long to answer. Which gives away the answer in itself.

Giving you a hum, long and deep, he rolls back on his heels and nods. "I see."

"What? No!" You suddenly jump up to defend yourself. "I… We're just in a… weird phase right now." That's one way to put it, you guess. "B–but we're friends. Just friends. The best of friends."

"Are you sure it's me that you're trying to convince?"

You bite your tongue at the laughter in his voice. Are you really trying to lie to yourself?

Do you really have a crush on your best friend…again?

Seokjin gives a pat to your shoulder. "Don't worry about it, okay? I can't say I didn't have an inkling. Hell, we've all seen the two of you act impossibly couple-y around each other. Even if you were just friends in the beginning, it was bound to evolve into something more given how you looked at each other."

Okay, enough. That's… too much.

It was one thing when it was just Jimin’s colleagues that thought the two of you acted couple-y because he'd never bothered to correct them. It's a whole other when it’s your colleagues too because you've always brushed off their suspicions, without fail.

This is getting out of your hands.

"I'll be taking my leave, okay? Drive safe and let me know when you've reached home." Seokjin smiles again when you meet his gaze. "No hard feelings, okay? I'll see on Monday."

You hope you'd be able to face him on Monday without breaking into tears of humiliation.

Sighing, you wave goodbye to Seokjin and, unlocking your car, get into it. Placing both hands on the steering wheel, you rest your forehead against their back, exhaling roughly.

This is all so confusing, you almost want to cry. Or call up Jeongyeon and complain about your confusing state of mind to her. But you're a terrible friend who doesn't keep in touch with people regularly so the last time you talked to the girl would have been on her birthday. Almost a year ago. It's coming up again next month, in fact. So nope, no messages.

With a grimace, you extract your phone to check the time – just as a message pings on it.

07:41 PM | Text Message from Min 🌟 <image_2839.jpg>

Great. Just what you need. More of him to absolutely obliterate any semblance of sanity you could have clung onto.

Heart almost beating out of your chest, you click on the message with embarrassingly shaky fingers. A picture of him awaits you – a dramatic selfie where his face is resting against a pillow with his eyes shut and lips pouted. The accompanying text spells out 'tired' in small letters, followed by multiple ellipses because one couldn't have made the point clearly enough for him.

Your heart has no business thumping like it us at the sight of his shiny mouth, and your face definitely deserves to be sued for heating up like a fucking toaster. You could earn a tortilla on your cheeks.

Oh God.

You do have a crush on him again. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.

What the fuck have you done?

On your way back, your whole head was such a mess that you almost turned into the wrong lane. You'd planned a Marvel movie marathon to get your mind off everything and fall asleep in front of the TV – so that you can wake up on Sunday afternoon with Chris Evans’ ass in his tight Cap’n America spandex on your mind.

But as you go through your nightly routine of brushing and showering, you realize that watching TV is out of the question because you cannot stay in your living room without reliving the way you were eaten out, here. And touching yourself to the thought of the guy you don't wanna think about will be sort of counterproductive.

So you decide to pull out your laptop and snuggle in your bed, resolutely turning towards the window in your room to avoid looking at the place where you knelt before Jimin. But that makes you face the picture of the two of you that you keep on your nightstand like a sap, and you release a tired groan.

"Why the fuck are you everywhere?" you lament into your empty room which doesn't feel nearly empty enough with all the traces of your best friend around it.

For the first time in your life, you're beginning to wonder if you've woven Jimin too intricately in your life than a best friend should be.

Good God. A spandex clad ass won’t be enough, you’ll need Chris Evans to get naked for you to be able to deal with this shit. Fuck it, you're watching Not Another Teen Movie.

It's 2 am, you’ve gone through four movies, and yet haven’t been able to gather enough sanity to text your best friend back.

He probably thinks you’re riding Seokjin’s dick by now. Which you would have been, had it not been for this uncalled for, absolutely unwelcome, highly inconvenient and horrendously intense attraction you’re feeling for him instead.

What is worse, it’s accompanied by telltale signs of a crush. What a nightmare to bear.

It all sounds like you’re being extra, but you’re actually just afraid.

The truth is – you're terrified of feelings; of getting too attached to somebody. And not just because you've seen how it can make people dependable, symbiotic to the point of being parasitic, the way they did your ex. But also because they change people in even more, even scarier ways.

Especially friends.

The moment that line is crossed from friendship to romance, everything is changed. At the risk of sounding morbid, you'd like to claim that everything is essentially ruined.

You've seen it happen to the closest of friends. The mask comes off, and everything that a person was as a friend – completely disappears as they assume the role of a partner. It never makes sense to you why this happens.

But your biggest fear in life is that it may happen to you. That it may happen with Jimin. You'd realized it when you were 19, so you'd crushed all the giddy feelings in you and moved on with your life as Jimin’s best friend.

And it worked out great, didn’t it? For eight whole years?

Fuck, what if fizzles out now, though?

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you muter to yourself, covering your face with both your palms.

You really don't wanna say it because it makes you feel like shit, especially given how normal Jimin was this morning, but… had you known getting physically close to him would lead to you getting so lost in your head, you would never have kissed Jimin. You would never have let that conversation with Avni play with your head for so long, in the first place.

Because all that has led you here, to this – leaving him on read and ignoring his face time calls. Poor guy probably just wants to know how your date went.

Well. Maybe you’ll answer him tomorrow.

Maybe you’ll be brave enough to confidently lie your way out of it. Maybe you'll be saner, more composed?

Tomorrow. You promise your self you'll be better tomorrow.

“Tomorrow.”

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