#this has been in my mind because i'm coming up with an oc who happens to be blind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

margotw10bis · 5 months

Text

Champagne Confetti. JJK [m]

boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader

Genre: smut (basically a porn with a plot)

Words: 6.1k

Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans

Warnings (be ready): live sex; rough sex; face ridding; squirting (olympics waterfall y'all); multiple orgasms (idk how oc is still alive)

Jungkook is enjoying the show. How can he not when his girlfriend has her legs wide open and enters her dripping pussy with two fingers. The pleasure makes you loudly moan and your eyes roll back. You smile brightly, looking straight with lustful eyes. You are definitely hot right now, you know it. And if you didn't, the hundred of comments in the chat would inform you.

Someone is complimenting the pink leds' reflection on your skin, another one wishes you could use the dildo you've showed a few days ago, and a new comment praises you for being 'a sweet good girl'. You smile instantly at it because you know damn well that it comes from your boyfriend. To please him, you enhance the pace of your digits entering you and pinch your hard nipple just like he likes. You're one second away from moaning his name but you know you can't, so you settle for:

"I'm playing with my little pussy just for you"

Even if Jungkook is in his couch, a few miles away from your place, he gets that you are talking to him and his hard cock twitches in his pants. He is mindlessly caressing himself through his sweatpants. You've told him a hundred of times that he could stay at your place when you work but he has declined every single time. Your boyfriend knows he doesn't have the strength to hear you pleasuring yourself a few feet away without storming in and fucking you rough. You wouldn't mind but, after a long conversation with him, you have learnt that he doesn't want to appear on camera. And you totally get it, even though you would love him to fuck you on camera.

You know that your job is not a common one and that some people are very judgmental. However, you love sex and you get paid for it. You turn on your camera, use your fingers or toys to make you cum and that's it. You know that you also please other people, so what's wrong with that? And one of the things you love the most about Jungkook is that he has never judged you. He loves you just the way you are, with all the things that come with you — including your cam girl occupation.

When you turn on your vibrator, a beautiful toy in a baby blue color, you think about Jungkook — especially since he is the one who gave it to you. You place it on your sensitive clit and your groans get louder. You are very close to cum and you know that the way you get choked up by pleasure is enjoyed by your audience because the cash is flowing.

Your boyfriend smirks from the other side of the screen. You are so fucking beautiful when your face is torn by pleasure. He absolutely loves seeing your juices dripping down your ass and land on your bed, drawing a wet spot on it. It's so fucking hot. Jungkook loves how your head rolls back when you are close to cum. But that's also why you don't see the comment that makes Jungkook's heart stop: 'I can fuck you better than your loser of a boyfriend'.

———

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Your worry is well noticeable on your face. Jungkook, despite being as sweet as ever, has grown a little... distant. At first, you thought you were imagining things but now you have no doubt. During your usual movie date at your place — you have a much bigger screen than Jungkook —, you were trying to switch your cuddling into something... else. But Jungkook has stopped your hands from reaching his crotch area. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want sex because men don't always want sex. But he doesn't even let you touch him and that has never happened during the eight months you have been together.

You are feeling stressed and sad. Did you do something wrong? Or is he leaving you like your exes because, despite Jungkook saying he is okay with your job, he might not be at the end of the day?

"Is it me?" You lowly ask, pain and unsureness in your voice

Jungkook's head immediately snaps toward you and he cups your face. He doesn't want you to be hurt just because his little ego has been bruised. It's not your fault, not at all.

"No, of course not!" He exclaims and it soothes your heart a little

"Then, tell me"

Jungkook sighs. Is it even worth saying? It's so stupid. Your boyfriend shouldn't feel threatened by a stranger on the Internet but he can't help it.

"I... There was a comment on your chat the other day" He starts and you tilt your head out of curiosity "It said that they could fuck you better than me"

You bust into laugh but quickly stop when you see no sign of humour in your boyfriend's dark eyes.

"They just talk, they feel brave behind a screen. I'm sure the guy wouldn't even make me cum. Baby, you know it's not true" You argue and settle a gentle kiss on his cheek

"No, I don't" Jungkook replies with a harsh and hurt tone, his jaws clenched

You're taken aback. You stay silent for a minute, wondering how could you make Jungkook understand that he is the best sex you've ever had. But there is not a hundred solutions. You tell him to wait until you call him.

You go to your bedroom, light up your pink leds, change your clothes for Jungkook's favorite underwear — a matching black lacy bra and thong — and prep everything for him. When everything is neat, you sit on your bed covered with pink silk sheets and call him.

Surprise is painting his face. He gulps when he notices how powerful and sexy you look right now. You pat the spot next to you on the bed to urge your boyfriend to sit, which he does. You immediately capture his lips with yours.

The kiss gets heated. You lick his rings in the corner of his lower lip and then slide your tongue into his mouth. You are quick to change position to sit on his lap and deepen the kiss. You have always loved how his tongue felt soft against you.

You grab his hands to place them on your ass and you smirk when they squeeze it. It's just a reflex, Jungkook can't control it. Neither can he control his hardening dick. You grind on it, pressing your already wet pussy against the bulge forming on his black sweatpants and rolling your hips at a sensual pace. You rest a hand on his large shoulder while the other one tugs on his black locks.

"Babe—" Jungkook tries to argue but you prevent him from talking with a bite on his lower lip, making it swollen and red

You grab the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up until you can take it off from your boyfriend's hot body. You glance at his brawny torso and run your index on the ink darkening his arm. You have always loved the tattoo on his shoulder. Your hand reaches up again to caress it before going South to his abs. You smile when you notice that your caresses cut Jungkook's breathe.

You attack his throat with your lips, settling wet kisses and bitting his thin skin. You suck on it to mark him because the purple hickeys always look so good on him. You know that you just have to tease him a little more for Jungkook to go wild, that's why you poke out your tongue and take a fat lap from his collarbone to his ear. You gently bite the lobe between two earrings and whisper :

"I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk tomorrow"

The low growl coming from Jungkook makes you shiver with horniness and you know you're going to get what you wanted. You instantly feel him spanking harshly the soft flesh of your asscheeks. You moan at the burn but you don't have time to appreciate it because Jungkook lands another slap on your left cheek. It tickles so fucking good that you have to bite on his neck to prevent a long scream of pleasure. Your pussy is so, so wet that it's staining your boyfriend's pants.

He digs his fingers so deep into the flesh of your ass that his knuckles turn white and that it'll leave bruises on your flesh. He uses his grip to spread your asscheeks and gets a full view on your two glistening holes in the mirror placed in front of your bed. Even with the dimmed light, he clearly sees how your arousal is smeared all over your cunt.

"You messy girl. Do you see how dirty you are?" He lowly growls

He doesn't wait for an answer and slaps your — already red and abused — ass. The sound of the spank echoes in your bedroom, the same way it's followed by your choked moan. How can Jungkook doubt about how good he makes you feel?

You sneak a hand on your back to undo your bra and offer a great view on your tits. You press your breasts against Jungkook's face and you feel the vibration more than you hear his moan. He leaves messy kisses everywhere on your boobs, sucking the flesh from time to time. Your head rolls back and you arch your back when he captures a hard nipple between his teeth. He is chewing on it and a pool of arousal leaks from your clenching pussy. He then roughly sucks on it, just like he would do if he wanted to suckle on a bottle.

One of his hand appears to grab your other tit, slightly slapping it too. The air gets kicked off your lungs when Jungkook suddenly bites the nipple he had in his mouth, provoking a loud whine from you. The pain mix with pleasure when he rolls his tongue around it to soothe you.

You push him on the bed so he rests his back on your mellow mattress and swiftly place your knees on both sides of his handsome face. You give him a last smile before you sit down on his face.

You feel his tongue pressing against your covered clit and you can't help but roll your hips. With a precise movement, Jungkook's inked fingers hook your thong and push it aside so he can directly access your cunt. His tongue slides up and down your slick folds and his nose bumps onto your clit. Your moans are filling your room and you have no choice but to grab your boyfriend's hair to steady yourself. You are glad that he still has long locks and only cut short the sides.

"Fuck, baby, it's so good" You groan but you get choked up when he suddenly suck on your clit "Oh my fucking god!"

Jungkook smirks against your pussy while your juices are leaking down all over his face. He grabs your ass and makes you grind on his face at a fast pace. Your brain gets foggy at the feeling of his expert tongue and nose bumping against your bud of nerves and sliding onto your vulva. You press deeper to feel more, not caring if you're suffocating Jungkook. You are too deep into pleasure to care and you know he has enough strength to push you away if he needs to. His tongue teases your entrance but never gets in, preferring rolling around your clit instead to drive you crazy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You inform him and you get closer when Jungkook digs his fingers deeper into the flesh of your ass

"Make me drink that potion" He teases against your wetness

Your arousal gets the grinding real smooth on your boyfriend's ruined face and it's fucking hot. He even jiggles his head from left to right at a quick pace to reach all the spots of your pussy, filling your bedroom with sloppy and oh so hot sounds, and you explode. You're cumming hard and the spasms of your body have rarely been so strong. You don't even have the strength to keep your upper body up and fall miserably on your bed with a goofy grin.

"Good girl" He praises

With a predator eye, Jungkook pokes his tongue out and licks your juices on his lips. It does little to clean him up because there are traces of your arousal on his chin, cheeks and nose. All his lower face is glistening with your wetness that it's fucking hot. He grabs his former t-shirt that was abandoned on your bed and wipes off his face.

"You're beautiful" You whisper, making Jungkook smile and his eyes get more affectionate

"You are more, baby" He replies and prevents you from arguing by capturing yours lips

You taste your cum on his tongue and moan in the kiss. Your hands work on his pants to push it down, along with his briefs. He is so hard right now that his cock twitches instantly when you grab it. You love how thick he is, he always stretches you well.

"I want to feel you in me" You tell him

Jungkook only replies with a nod and scoots over just the time to completely peel him naked. Your eyes travel through his perfect body, from his shoulders to his strong thighs passing through his abs. However, it's his dick that attracts you the most. You bite your lower lip and open your legs wider for your boyfriend.

You're surprised when two of his digits enter your pussy without warning. Your eyes shut of pleasure and your moans gets unsteady because of the depth and velocity of his fingering. He is shaking your whole body through your poor cunt. You are still very sensitive from your first orgasm and Jungkook is screwing deep and roughly. You can only grab your sheets and your toes curl up when Jungkook curves his fingers to pump on your g-spot.

He goes so harshly on you that you can't think anymore. You are not even aware of your screams and cum in a record time, squirting all over your boyfriend — for his greatest pleasure. You even splash your sheets and his abs.

"You are so dirty" He purrs in your ear but he is the only driving you crazy when he spreads the juices of his soaked hand on his member as he is jerking himself off

You can't believe you have cummed this hard in such a little time. It's not the first time Jungkook makes you squirt but usually it takes way more time and only appears at the end of your fuck when you have already reached your high a couple of times.

"They should see how fucked up you get when you're with me" He cockily says, referring to your viewers "You are such a little slut for me. Do you even cum with other men?"

His question is backed up with a pinch on your nipple.

"You're the only one" You reply in a whine

Your answer satisfies your boyfriend and he bends over to kiss you, way tender now. He takes place between your legs and the mess you've done allows him to enter you in a swift motion, all the way until his balls are pressed against your ass. Your moan is longer as the pleasure is traveling through your entire body. Your walls are so stretched that you wonder how you are not split in half already.

"I should fuck you on live to make this motherfucker shut his fucking mouth" He growls in your ear as he gives you the first dick strokes — deep and slow to enhance the sensuality

"You should, baby" You whisper and your walls clench around his fat cock because the idea is really arousing

As he starts thrusting into you with a quicker pace, you manage to reach his throat and suck hickeys. Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours with one of his hands while the other one roughly cups your face to give you a messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. The way Jungkook is rolling his hips allows him to reach all the right spots inside you. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you groan his name — groan that is immediately swallowed by his mouth. Your arousal is coating his length but you have so much more that it's rolling down his balls.

He fucks you with so much force that your bed cracks but it's a problem for later. You can't think about anything else than him when he kisses the thin skin of your throat, biting it from time to time. Your legs wrap around his tiny waist to keep him close and prevent him from stopping, even through he is not planning to.

Jungkook slightly lifts up so he can see your tits bouncing in rhythm. It's so hot that he fuck you rougher just to enhance the movement and pinch a hard nipple with his fingertips. He is fucking so rawly that sweat is coving his body and is making his black strands of hair stick to his forehead. Sounds of your clapping skins fill your bedroom, creating a beautiful music for his ears, especially with your whined moans. A fun idea lightens up in his head and he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you perfectly. Your poor cunt throbs around him. Why does he have to be so fucking good? He knows you so well.

"Scream how much you love when I fuck you" He teases you but tightens the grip around your neck

It gets hard to breathe, yet along to fulfill his demand.

"Hm? Tell me, baby. I can't hear you" He smirks "Be a good girl and let everyone knows how good I fuck you"

You want to say it desperately but you can't. Only chocked moans escape your lips. But all of a sudden, Jungkook takes off his hand and gives you a particularly rough dick stroke. The oxygen rushing to your brain and the air being kicked out of your lungs make you so high on sex.

"I love it!" You scream "No one can fuck me better"

"Who's whore are you?" He cockily asks

"Yours!" You moan

"Louder" He growls, his hand settling back on your throat but not tightening too much

"I'm your whore!" You whine as you feel your walls clenching around his cock

"Good" He gives you a harsh pounding "Fucking" Another one "Girl" And another one

You love it so much that your smaller hand lands on his to urge him to squeeze your throat. Your boyfriend does it but suddenly pulls off of your throbbing dripping cunt.

"Kook!" You whine but he shhhes you and rolls his fingers hard and fast around your clit

It's so sudden and intense that your breathe gets cut and that you giggle to escape the unbearable pleasure. However, the fist around your neck prevents you from running away from his ministrations. You're wet, soaked even, and Jungkook's fingers can roll smoothly on your bud. It doesn't stop your boyfriend from spitting on it, just to make your cunt messier. Your pussy is clenching around nothing but you're close again. You have asked Jungkook to fuck you rough, and he is giving what you wanted.

His frenetic pace on your clit plays with the border of pain and you can't hold on anymore. You squirm and your body is experiencing spasms from another powerful orgasm. You grab his forearm to stop his abuse on your poor throbbing clit when the overstimulation becomes too much to handle.

"Fuck, baby" Jungkook whispers is awe, amazed by how beautiful you are when you reach cloud nine

You are panting and your brain feels like wax. You need time to recover from the intensity of the three past orgasms. You close your eyes and rest your head on a fluffy pillow.

"I'm not done with you, baby" Jungkook murmurs as he caresses your skin with the tip of his fingers, drawing goosebumps all over your body

"I need a minute" You confess as you are trying to steady your breathing "You fuck me too good"

Your boyfriend chuckles and lands a multitude of pecks on your cheek, your throat, your shoulder, your boobs and pretty much everywhere. However, you are way too much into the bliss of your post-orgasmic state to notice how your boyfriend's pierced lips are traveling South. It's only when his mouth kisses your oversensitive clit that you jolt and squeak.

His vicious tongue pokes out and slyly licks the arousal leaking from your pussy. He looks like a cat licking its milk but you know he is as lethal as a lion. You throw a — what you want to be — death stare but Jungkook smirks because, deep into your eyes, he sees your lust. You can't deny that the sight of Jungkook between your legs is sinful and perfect. But shivers run through your body when his tongue takes another lap of your ruined cunt.

"I need to clean up my little dirty girl" He purrs and swallows a little bit more of your juices "Taste so sweet, baby"

"Fuck" You moan and you instinctively open your legs a little bit wider

Thankfully, Jungkook goes gentle on you — otherwise, you are not sure you would survive.

"You don't know how much I love eating your little juicy pussy" He teases you and an airy laugh escapes your lips

"I do know, you tell me every time you do it" You explain, tenderness noticeable in your voice

Jungkook and you exchange a knowing glance, right before he buries his handsome face in your folds.

"Those guys can comment all they want" He growls against your dripping pussy, slightly nodding his head toward your set up "They'll never know how you taste"

The possessiveness in his raspy voice is arousing. You love when your boyfriend claims you over other men. He is not the jealous kind — he cannot be when you're a cam girl — but he also manages to remind you that you are his in the most perfect way: fucking.

You cup his chin with your hand to force Jungkook to look at you. Seriousness paints your face when you tell him:

"I don't want anyone else than you. Do you understand?"

Jungkook nods and happiness fills up his chest, spurring him to capture your lips — the upper ones this time. You both smile in the kiss but your sneaky hand finds its way to Jungkook's cock. You jerk him off slowly, appreciating his velvety — yet sticky with your juices — skin.

"Get on your knees" He commands against your swollen lips

You get on all fours and arch your back like you know Jungkook loves it and swing your ass from side to side. Your boyfriend gets to see how wet you still are despite his little cleaning. He lands a rough slap on your ass and squeeze your cheeks.

He then wraps his hand at the base of his hard and thick cock and guides it to your entrance. He teases a little, hooking his tip in your hole just to poke it out. He does it a couple of times, hoaxing a begging from you to finally fill you up.

You gasp when he enters you all the way. You can feel him so deep when he fucks you from behind. It's like his fat cock is stretching you even better. Jungkook digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks and spreads them to fully admire how your little cunt takes his dick, coated it with your arousal at the same time.

"Fuck, baby..." He hisses in bliss

His dick strokes are not gentle, making you jolt at each single one of them. You burry your face in your sheets to mitigate as well as you can your loud moans. Drool is leaking from your open mouth and you realize that your boyfriend is fucking you dumb. The thought is so pleasant that you clench around him.

"You pussy is so tight" He growls and he accompanies his words with a spank on your already red and bruised ass

Jungkook goes further in sins when he lifts up his thumb to his mouth to coat it with spit and smudges it on your pucker hole. You gasp and feel a wave of arousal when he pushes his digit into it. Fuck, it's so hot... The intrusion is so fucking good, making your pussy even wetter — it's now just a big pool of your juices. Your walls clench sporadically around him, notifying him how much you love it. It's no secret anyway, Jungkook has already fucked your ass in the past.

You love hearing how his sweaty skin is clapping against yours, and you love feeling your ass getting slapped by his lap at each pounding. Your boyfriend has to hold you tight to prevent you from falling on your bed. Your arousal creates some sticky threads connecting your two bodies, disappearing when he bottoms up and drawing new ones when he pulls off to the tip. Jungkook curses when he looks at it. It's fucking hot...

"You make me do all the work, you little slut" He complains

He halts his movements. You know what he wants but you also know that his order is arousing so you wait for it.

"Come on, fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are" He whispers lowly but his cockiness pierces in his voice "Show me how much you want it"

Jungkook feels your walls clenching and it paints a smirk on his lips. He watches you pushing your ass back to swallow his dick and then moving forward to the tip, just to push back again. Your pace is rough and you make sure to harshly hit his pelvis when you take his member deep into you. You look like a maniac, empaling yourself on his thick cock, but you can't think about it because you love it too much. Your cunt is throbbing from the past orgasms and is sensitive from all the poundings and yet, you want more.

Your boyfriend knows you way too well. He sneaks his inked hand in your hair and harshly tugs on it, forcing you to lift up your upper body and rest your back against his brawny chest. Your scalp hurts in the most delicious way and your tits bounce when Jungkook takes control of the thrustings. You look up and smirk when you notice your set up in front on you. This insane, animalistic and perfect fuck all began because of this... You should thank your fans because Jungkook has never fucked you this good.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and sucks more hickeys on your already redden and purple skin. The hand that was in your hair travels down to wrap your throat while the other one, sly, reaches your clit. You gasp when Jungkook starts circle motions on your bud.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!" You say in a breathe when you feel your cunt clenching

Despite the tightening of your walls, you are so aroused that your juices are dripping down in your inner thighs, making a mess of Jungkook's cock too.

"You are such a good fucking whore for me" He whispers in your ear, biting your lobe too

Your hands try to handle on his strong forearm as your sloppy pussy gets ruined by your boyfriend's poundings and his raw pace. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your mouth falls open, your cunt throbs and your breathe gets cut off as his expert fingers on your clit drive you closer to the edge. You are so close, you know it and Jungkook knows it too. That's why he fucks you even rougher, earning some whines from you, and bites your neck, marking you in all the possible ways.

You almost passed out when you cum as white dots paints your vision.

"Baby!" You moan, scream or whisper — you can't know

Thankfully, Jungkook firmly holds you against him, otherwise you would be falling miserably on your bed since your forces abandon you at the same time the wave of pleasure washes over you. Your walls throb and your lower stomach contracts as you squirt again, ruining your silk pink sheets and Jungkook's cock. Your whole body is shaken by spasms due to the power of your orgasm. Why does you boyfriend love so much pushing your limits? Because he knows that you love it just as much.

"Such a dirty girl" He purrs in your ear but you barely register it since you are still in the fog "Look at the mess you have made"

To accentuate his words, he lifts up the hand that was on your clit at the level of your face and shakes it. Drops of your cumming fly all around.

"Rain, rain, rain" He laughs lowly, not thrusting anymore but keeping his hard cock deep inside you "You can't fake it"

You want to reply something, like that you would never do it and that Jungkook really does fuck you good, but you have cotton mouth.

"Look at how fucked up you are!" He mocks you "And this motherfucker thinks he can fuck you better?" His low laugh is full of cockiness but it's the truth

His wet fingers caress your lips and you part them out of instinct. Jungkook takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his digits and watches in awe how well you suck on them. You hum at your taste and appreciate being able to drink something.

"My sweet good girl" He says gentler, kissing your cheek

"Baby, I don't know if I can take it anymore" You confess, turning your head to look at his handsome face

You can spot the affection in his doe eyes.

"Just one last time and I'm gonna fill your little pussy up. I promise"

His words are raw but his tone is soft, just like the kiss he settles on your lips. You nod and his big palm comes up to caress your cheek. It soothes you and allows you a moment of peace before the big finale.

Jungkook circles your frame with his strong arms and falls on his back with you. The surprise makes you squeak and you could laugh if his cock buried in your cunt wasn't making you moan instead.

You dig your feet in the mattress on both sides of his thighs, takes supported on his pecs with your hands and start some ups and downs on his length. His tip is perfectly hitting your g-spot and if Jungkook wasn't helping you to settle a quick pace with his hands on your hips, you know that your legs would crash down because of the pleasure.

It feels so good to have him this deep inside you. Your tits bounce and your moans get lost in your bedroom. Your boyfriend turns his head to the side to get a peak at you fucking yourself on his fat cock in the mirror.

"Fuck, baby, you're so hot" He praises you and you thank him with a squeeze of your cunt

His thumbs caress your skin at the same time. The movement is slight but you manage to feel it. It does some weird tricks in your chest and you quicken your pace. The only problem is that the marathon of orgasms Jungkook's put you through seriously decreases your stamina. It's getting very hard for you to jump on his cock, even though you absolute love the way he is filling you.

"Baby..." You whisper in a breathe "Need you..."

You don't have to finish your sentence because Jungkook understands.

"I got you" He reassures you

He makes you rest your back on his chest, wraps arms under the back of knees to get a full access to your cunt — making you tighter in the process as your thighs are pressed against each other — and firmly plants his feet on your bed. His poundings are so harsh that your head rolls back and no sounds escape your open mouth. You almost faint because of the pleasure provided by his dick strokes in your tight and swollen cunt.

"Fuuuuck" You whine

Tears are gathering at the corners of your eyes. Jungkook is fucking you too good for your own sanity. The way his thrustings are accompanied by loud skin clapping sounds is fucking arousing. Your juices are dripping down your ass to create a mess on your boyfriend's balls.

"Oh my god!" You moan when rough slap hits the side of your ass

Your toes curl and your brain gets foggy: you know you are close. There have been too many orgasms for you to count and you have now no strength to delay them. Jungkook has turned into a fuck-machine, leaving no rest for your poor pussy. You are amazed by his stamina.

"Are you going to tell them who fucks you good?" He purrs

"You fuck me good! So fucking good, baby" You exclaim in a state of euphoria

Your voice is even shaking because of his poundings — that's how much he is ruining you. You sob at his raw dick strokes, you are way more sensitive than usual.

"I'm gonna fuck you on live and everyone will know who's little slut you are. Isn't it that right, baby? Do you want me to ruin you in front of the whole Internet?" He teases you

"Oh, fuck yes!"

"Good girl" He praises, quickly pecking your shoulder

"Kook, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

You can't finish your sentence that you explode once again. Only this time, Jungkook enhances his pace which makes you squirt for some long seconds and you wonder if you will ever gonna stop.

"Don't stop!" You urge him while you are sobbing

Your boyfriend swipes your pussy at a rapid pace with his hand to extend your cumming and to make a bigger mess with your juices splashing everywhere. You can't hold back your scream of pleasure. You have never cummed so hard and God knows that you know what you are talking about.

"Champagne confetti" Jungkook laughs when the waterfall ends

"Please, cum" You beg him

The tiredness is noticeable in your voice. You can't take it anymore and his poundings are painful despite the remaining pleasure.

"I'm close, baby, just hold on a little bit more"

Jungkook frees your legs and you rest your feet on his strong thighs helping him to ruin you. His inked hand cups your face and turn it to his. He captures your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your moans. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't know what is reality anymore. The only thing you are sure about is him.

"Fill me up" You whisper against his pierced lips

You can only feel him nod and, with a last powerful dick stroke, he buries his cock deep inside you and releases his seeds inside you. You sigh in content and Jungkook whispers some soothing compliments. He hugs you tight but you are too tired to do anything.

Your sheets, just like your cunt, are ruined and soaked with your juices. You roll on your side and Jungkook's cock pulling off your pussy causes his white cum to leak. You don't really care anyway.

"Are you okay? Was I too much?" Jungkook worries as he witnesses your exhausted state

"It was good, baby" You reassure him but keep your eyes closed

You sneak against him and hug him as tight as you can with a weak body. You hear his beating heart in his chest as you rest your head on it. You hum, so happy to have him in your life. Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head.

"I have to tell you something" You murmur "Promise you won't be mad"

"I promise"

"Before I called you, I turned on a live... So everyone did see us fucking" You confess, hoping that Jungkook won't feel betrayed or anything

"I know. I saw the red light of your camera"

You lift up your head and witness some playfulness in his eyes. You offer him a bright smile and kiss him passionately. Fuck, you are so lucky to have Jungkook. His hands land on your bruised ass. You scoot over and turn to the camera. You look fucked up — and you are indeed. A smirk paints your lips and you look straight into the camera lens.

"No one can fuck me better than him" You announce and end up the live

#bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts #smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #kpop #fanfic #drabble #bts drabble #bts one shot #jeon jungkook #jungkook

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suiana · 11 months

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Oooh your requests are open?? I'm a new anon and have been binge reading your works so I'm quite giddy cuz your works are astounding! Um, how about a star jock in University, known for being quite a blockhead but clingy and very possessive of the reader, a member of the student council? But when asked about his feelings for her, he'll just say "Oh! I'm her bestest friend!" But frothing in the mouth at the sight of another man with her *cough* other student council members *cough*

-🌷🐸🌸 Lillypad

✎ yandere! jock headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, slightly delusional yandere, slight violence etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! jock who's known to be a himbo. cute and athletic but extremely airheaded at times! it's a wonder he's still passing his classes.

✎ yandere! jock who's a golden retriever type of boy. smiling happily at you, clinging to you like he'll die if he's not with you... it's really cute. plus he's sort of dumb and just tilts his head when he doesn't understand when you tell him something! it's super cute! like imagine a big muscly cute guy not understanding why it's wrong to beat up someone for confessing to you! it's kinda annoying but adorable all the same.

✎ yandere! jock who follows you around even when he's not supposed to. at this point he's an honorary member of the student council with how he just follows you into the meetings and has you sit in his lap. though he gives good suggestions and helps enforce the rules so he's not half bad :)

✎ yandere! jock who is madly in love with you. anyone with eyes and half a brain can tell except for you and him apparently. maybe it's the love effect or something but no matter how many times someone tells you he likes you, you don't believe it. how could he? he's just your best friend!

✎ yandere! jock who always freezes up and blushes every time you confront him on his feelings. even though the way you ask it is completely friendly, he can't help but think you might have some feelings too! he always daydreams about you admitting you have feelings for him all along... then a happy ever after~! but that probably won't happen, he can barely talk properly without mumbling and shitting about something else whenever you're on this topic!

✎ yandere! jock who you tutor on a regular basis. yes your majors may be different but you're smart so it's not really all that hard... so you offer to help him out, tutoring him so he can get better grades. it doesn't really work though, your jock can't help but get mesmerized with the way you talk, sit, breathe... anything you say goes in one ear and comes out the other. it's useless trying to tutor him anything at this point. because his mind is always full of you, you, you.

✎ yandere! jock who gets irrationally jealous whenever he sees you hanging out with someone other than him. especially if it's a guy. his heart swells with rage and an indescribable gnawing feeling at the mere sight that he can't help but land a punch on the guy's jaw for even existing. you always have to pull him away and calm him down :( it's a bit too overwhelming sometimes, you can't even talk with your professor without him glaring daggers at the old man!

✎ yandere! jock who would give up everything and anything for you. you're his beloved best friend after all! he'd give up his position as the star athlete and even his position at the university if he has to. anything for you. you're his best friend that he loves too much after all.

✎ "sweeth- my best friend! here, let me help you out! *punches through a wall*"

#yandere #tw yandere #tw yancore #male yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere jock #yandere jock x reader #yandere jock headcanons

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lowkeychenle · 5 months

Text

Cruel Summer [ZCL] (M)

Description: He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (This fic is Chenle's POV!)

A/N: this is inspired by 'Cruel Summer' by Taylor Swift, please do listen to this song because it is SO AMAZING.

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst (very minimal angst, like u rlly have to squint)

Content Warnings: LOTS OF FLUFF AND SMUT. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK OKAY. Drinking, alcohol, intoxication, some instances of friends being shitty/pushy Smut warnings: this has so much smut oh my god. anyway, use of pet names 'sunshine,' 'baby,' 'pretty,' and combinations of them, rough, unprotected sex, protected sex, choking, the smut rlly progressively gets softer but kinkier? a wee bit of dacrophyilia, one oral scene (m receiving), and i think that's it...i'm so sorry if I missed one this thing is so fucking long

Word Count: 20,050 (seriously wtf did I DO?!)

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (feat. Mark, Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, and two female OCs, Chaeyoung & Heewon)

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Day 1 | June 1st

Chenle, for his entire life, had always said summer was his favorite season. As time went on and he got older, that sentiment got less and less real to him. Now approaching his 23rd year of life, he’d been around long enough to know things younger Chenle never would’ve dreamed of.

Every single summer since high school graduation, Chenle has invited his friends to his family’s vacation house on the beach—including you, his best friend since middle school. You’d seen him through all his awkward phases, and the best part of his month-long summer excursion was seeing you despite how busy the two of you were throughout the year.

For thirty days, everything was normal. You were around, and he relished in your company.

For thirty days, he was able to forget everything except for you and a handful of other friends.

Not that he could ever not have you at the forefront of his mind. Despite the busy schedules you both endured, you somehow ended up crashing at his house often, or vice versa. He often occupied the other side of your bed and, for a long time, thought it was completely normal despite the very odd reactions some people had when he explained he wasn’t your boyfriend.

Nothing had ever happened. At least, not literally. He’d thought about making a move and kissing you, but he decided it wasn’t worth losing your friendship. Throughout your years together, he’d seen you get in relationships, get your heart broken, and break hearts. You’re comfortable being at your lowest with him, and he builds you back up piece by piece without complaint.

“Chenle,” you call from outside, jogging up to the front door. “Is everything in the car? Jaemin and Jeno are almost here.”

He raises his eyebrows as he glances around his house, wondering if he’s forgetting anything. And without meaning to, he scans over you as if he hasn’t been around you all day. Your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat from the overwhelming heat outside, and your shorts climb up your thighs with every passing second, but he swears he doesn’t notice.

“I think so. If we’re missing anything, we can just run into town,” he suggests, tagging his fingers on his sides to stop himself from reaching out to you.

Chenle had a little secret—one he hated keeping from you, but had to nonetheless—and it was simply that he was in love with you. It took him years to come to terms with it. After all this time, he accepted it. If he’s around you, the way he acts doesn’t have to change in the slightest. He’s always treated you as more than a best friend, as you’ve done to him, so there’s no reason for him to ruin that…right?

“You good?” You tilt your head at him. “We’re wasting time.”

“We have a whole month,” Chenle retorts.

“And you’re taking away from our first day.” Your eyes narrow, but before he responds, you turn your back on him and rush out the door, yelling at who he assumes is Jaemin finally arriving.

The four of you are driving together, while Mark, Hyuck, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were taking Mark’s car. They’d probably be a bit late, but Chenle didn’t mind.

His favorite thing was road trips—especially if you were involved. Even when Jaemin and Jeno slept in the backseat, you and Chenle had the radio up, the windows down, and you were singing at the top of your lungs. Your best look is when you’re this happy, yelling lyrics without a care in the world. He shouldn’t, but he steals glances at you whenever he can. You sing, looking at him and grabbing his arm and shaking him depending on what songs were on. Giggles pour out of your mouth when he gives you an incredulous look.

The song you replayed the most these days was Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift, and he would never get tired of it. Every time the chorus came on, you swept him up in your performance, and he almost laughed at the way he related to the lyrics.

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He wanted more, but he liked you like this. Hands flying into the air as you scream along to the music. Sooner or later, he ends up joining you. Whenever you’re involved, it’s not weird to find Chenle a single step behind you.

Chenle’s family had a large house on the beach. It was split down the middle, and one of his parents’ conditions was that the boys would stay on one side and the girls on the other. They didn’t have a way to prove any different, but everyone respected their rules.

Jaemin and Jeno typically played whatever game console was in the living room while Chenle got to spend a little bit of alone time with you before the rest of the hyper ones got in.

He stands across the kitchen, watching as you unload all of the snacks you brought onto the counter. After a long drive, the sun is setting on the horizon, and the pretty colors reflecting off your skin have him beyond distracted. It wouldn’t be weird for him to hug you. He’s been clingy with you since…well, since he first met you.

“You sure you don’t want any help?” he asks.

“It’s just little things.” You shrug, waving him off. “That drive was…exhausting.”

He laughs, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself.

“What?” You continue taking boxes out of the bags.

“The drive always knocks you out, but you do the same thing every time anyway.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna sit with Jaem and Jeno. Come out when you’re done?”

You grin at him. “I’ll only be a few more minutes. Go ahead.”

He leaves you in the kitchen, the nightfall creeping into the house and making his eyes heavy. His bed calls to him from upstairs, but he wants to wait for you. And he doesn’t have a choice but to wait for Mark and the rest of the gang, because they’ll have to have a way inside.

When you join him, you’re equally as tired as him. You slump next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. With your warmth pressed against him, he smiles and wraps his arm around you. Jaemin and Jeno are battling away, sleep not touching them any time soon after the nap they had in the car.

“You okay?” he whispers, careful not to alert the other two.

Nodding, you curl into him further, sighing into his chest. He hugs you, and somehow, you end up curled into a ball on his lap, head buried in his neck. Your breath tickles his skin, but he doesn’t dare disturb you.

He cradles the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your scalp. When your breathing steadies, he relaxes. You’re asleep, and if he knows himself at all, he’ll be following you in no time. Any time you’re tired after a long day, you curl into him like this, and he’s come to relish in these moments.

His eyes flutter shut, his own exhaustion peeking through. Absent-mindedly, he presses his lips to the top of your head.

“Ew,” Jaemin groans, giving Chenle a disgusted look. “They make rooms for whatever’s going on there.”

Chenle glares at him once, and he purses his lips and turns his attention back to the game.

“Seriously, if you want to go to bed, we’ll wait for the others,” Jeno offers. “We are capable of opening a door.”

Chenle contemplates it for a moment. He knows he should be the one to greet everyone, but the gentle snores escaping you makes him want to cuddle you properly. It wouldn’t be the first time one of you “snuck in” to the other side of the house and stayed with one another. At the end of the day, he couldn’t get enough of you. Your skin is soft beneath his fingertips, and despite everyone knowing how desperately he wants you except for you, he likes to act like it’s a secret.

“Alright,” he mumbles, shifting under you to see if he’ll be able to find a way to hold onto you. “Make sure to lock it when they arrive.”

Jeno and Jaemin don’t say anything else when he lifts you up and walks you down the hall toward his bedroom. He lays you on his bed first, pulling the blankets back to settle you beneath them.

You’re so peaceful like this—face soft, the slightest smile on your lips. He finds himself dragging his thumb along your cheek just to be able to touch you. You’re perfect to him.

He climbs in next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you against his chest. You hum quietly, subconsciously turning to him and bury your head in his chest. He grins to himself at the feeling, at the idea of you being so accustomed to him that you’ll want him even in your sleep.

Kissing the top of your head, he lets out a sigh of content before resting back against his pillow.

Day 2 | June 2nd

The morning together was just like any other—you stayed cuddled up until eight came along and the others were whining down the hall about being hungry. Chenle wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone verbally, but the reason he likes these vacations so much is because of the privacy he gets with you.

Yeah, all of your friends are there, but they’re used to the level of clinginess Chenle has with you. His family, on the other hand? If they knew he woke up at 6:30 am and stayed with you wrapped up in his arms for an hour and a half…

“We should go help before they burn down the kitchen,” you murmur, sighing quietly.

“The longer I can stay in bed, the better.” He squeezes you tighter. “Five more minutes.”

You nod in agreement, shuffling closer. His hand rubs up and down your back, gently dragging his nails to help soothe you further. How you’re unaware of his feelings for you is beyond him—he’s always treated you this way. Like you’re the most important person in his life.

Because…news flash, you are.

Eventually, the two of you have to get up. Mark and Heewon are in the kitchen, and you immediately deduct that that’s a mistake. Chenle quickly shoos them from the kitchen, taking over the role of breakfast chef with your help.

While the two of you cook together, he never has to verbally ask you things. You’re in such harmony, it’s like you know every single move he’s going to make before he does.

“So,” Jaemin says, sitting down on one of the stools behind the island. “The girls said they want to go to the bar tonight. You guys down?”

“Tonight?” Your eyebrows pinch, and your lips turn downward. “It’s only day two.”

“Yeah, we’re trying to maximize our fun time,” Jeno interjects, taking a seat next to Jaemin. “We’ve only got thirty days before we return to the real world.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to count me out.” You scrunch up your nose. “But I’ll start doing things tomorrow. I just need to recharge a little more before I go out anywhere.”

Jaemin turns his attention to Chenle, either wanting him to convince you to go, or to see if Chenle will also be staying in.

“Sorry, Jaem.” Chenle shrugs. “I’m not leaving her here by herself.”

You appreciatively poke his side, something the other two boys don’t see, but it makes his heart flutter nonetheless.

“You two are only forgiven because of the breakfast you’re making. We expect hangover breakfasts tomorrow, too.” Jaemin crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.

“We’ll see.” Chenle continues chopping the onion, sending a quick smile your way when you finish washing the green peppers and putting them down in front of him.

He figured he’d be used to you by now—to the feelings he’s harbored for so long. But every time you prove, once again, that you know him just as well as you know yourself, it makes him want you so much more.

Chenle ended up making dinner, too, which was simply microwaving ramen for each person until everyone was content. Mark, Hyuck, Jaem, Jeno, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were all leaving by six, swearing they wouldn’t be home too late.

“Make them order pizza or something,” you suggest to him as you dry the dishes he washes. “They’re grown adults with money.”

“I kinda like this,” he admits.

“Cooking for the same friends you’ve been cooking for since 7th grade?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he snorts.

“Cooking for people in general,” he corrects. “And I like that you’re here to help me. Or just here at all.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t mean it like that. Let me appreciate your company, asshole.” He finishes up the last dish and turns the water off before handing it to you.

You hum in response, quickly drying it before setting it in the cupboard where it goes. Turning toward him, you lean the small of your back on the counter while your hands grip the edge. Your gaze scans over him, and he swears he feels his spine twist in the most delicate of ways. He loves when you look at him, and whenever you study him, he wonders what kind of lessons he teaches you.

“Thanks for staying back with me,” you say.

“Of course.” He waves you off. “I didn’t want to go to the bar anyway.”

“So, what do we do?”

Chenle chuckles. “Not a clue. The possibilities are endless, I guess.”

“Do you still have that karaoke machine?” You narrow your eyes at him as you await his response.

“Is that even a question? Hell yeah, I do. We can get it set up?”

The smile spreading across your face makes his heart skip, and despite how much he wants to reach out for your hand to pull you down the hall, all he does is gesture to the direction you need to go in.

You clap your hands, quickly following his lead.

This room used to be an office of sorts, but has since evolved now that Chenle’s parents don’t come here anymore. The desk has been pushed against the wall next to the TV, and a large couch takes up the majority of the room. A long time ago, he thought it’d be funny to buy a karaoke machine after he’d realized how much he likes to sing, and it just so happened that you felt the same way.

Every time the two of you come here, it’s a must. However, he hasn’t had the opportunity to have it be just you. Someone else was always intruding on his time, at least for the past few years.

Part of the reason he fell for you in the first place was because of how similar you were to him. You shared similar interests and passions that he didn’t usually find in other people. That, or he wasn’t looking once he realized how much he wanted you.

He loves music, and in every piece he hears, he finds you.

You deeply relate to the music you enjoy, and he admires that about you as well. You pick the songs for the evening, and he has no qualms. He’d rather listen to your picks on repeat than try and go off on his own.

The night starts off easy, some of the songs you pick are classics that you make him do every time. After three songs, you picked Cruel Summer. He knows all the lyrics by now—he memorizes everything that comes out of your pretty lips, regardless of if it’s a song or not. He’ll never forget those lyrics for as long as he lives.

Your laugh is so damn contagious. He tries his best to pull that sound from you every chance he gets, but the air around you is…bittersweet. These moments are his favorite—where he gets to have fun with you and forget the rest of the world exists. But they also make him want you more, and everything you could give him. He wants to be yours, and nights like these prove to him that you’re not.

Three songs in, and you’re both panting and laughing your asses off. Karaoke is never just singing—no, you dance until your legs feel like they’ll give out. That’s Chenle’s number one rule, that it’s never enough to sing the songs. You’ve got to perform them.

But Cruel Summer starts, and he can’t help but see the irony of you singing it in his presence. Or him joining you in it.

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

You know that I caught it

He sings along, but he quiets himself. Listening to you has become one of his favorite pastimes, so he’ll take any opportunity he can. He dances with you, spins you around, and begs any sort of higher power that he can have you like this forever.

And it's new, the shape of your body

It's blue, the feeling I've got

And it's ooh, whoa, oh

It's a cruel summer

It's cool, that's what I tell 'em

No rules in breakable heaven

A gold gleam catches in the dim lighting when he twirls you in a circle, and he grins. He loves when you wear that bracelet—which is all the time, because he’s got one nearly identical, but yours has his name on it and his has yours.

The chorus makes him move around the room, hyping you up at every chance he has. You laugh through the lyrics, out of breath from the previous songs, too.

So cut the headlights, summer's a knife

I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know

God, he fucking loves you.

The room fades around him while he’s having fun with you, and he wishes he could spend every moment this way. With the excited glow to you, the carefree laughter, the genuine fun.

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)

Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)

As the lyrics pick up, he joins in for real. This part of the song is his favorite, because the next lyrics are exactly what he wants to say to you but can’t work up the courage to do it.

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He imagines hearing those words from you, too full of emotion to keep them in any longer. You yell the lyrics between laughter, throwing your head back and dancing as if you’ve been drinking. He watches you so fondly, he’s sure you’ll notice.

The chorus comes back, and you walk up to him like you’re serenading him, making dramatic hand motions while he laughs at you. His whole body buzzes when you’re like this. When everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)

Something changes. He doesn’t notice at first, but your expression changes. The song is about to end, and his heart lurches violently in his chest.

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks at you as the last lyrics pour from your mouth, the wide smile on your face dissipating when you see how close he is to you. Instead of yelling them like you did last time, the words trail off, barely leaving your mouth as a whisper. His chest heaves from the energy expended, yours mirroring his. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, the adrenaline sitting on top of his lungs as his brain malfunctions on what to do next.

Honestly, he doesn’t know who does it. Someone leans forward, and your lips are locked. Passion lingers, desperation tugging at his very soul at the feeling of your arms around him. His heart pounds in his ears, almost blocking out how Cruel Summer’s instrumental repeats in the background.

He clenches his fists in the fabric of your shirt, praying, hoping this isn’t one of his bullshit dreams. Without any idea how it happened, he relishes in the softness of your mouth, the way you accept his tongue so easily, and the soft moan you let out when he tugs on your bottom lip gently.

He pants harder now, forehead against yours as he tries to figure out what the hell he should do. You should stop. All of this is a mistake—he didn’t want his first time with you to be like this, where his want makes his pants tighter in record time. The only logical thought in his brain is that damn sound you just made and how he can drag it from you again and again.

Thunder booms in his veins as he pulls you back to him, the second he was without your kiss much too long. You press yourself to him, digging your nails into his shoulders. It’s almost like he has no control over his actions at the moment, the long-standing need for you clouding his judgment.

The pretty, pretty sound you make when he spins you around and practically slams the small of your back against the edge of his desk has him forgetting everything else exists. It’s only you. You and how fucking badly he wants you.

He doesn’t dare speak a word.

Inhaling sharply, he sweeps his arm across all the miscellaneous junk on top of it, successfully and messily clearing a spot for you to sit. You take the hint, hoisting yourself up on the edge and spreading your legs to give him room.

Heat pulses through the room, sending waves through his body. He wants to peel all of his clothes off, have you naked beneath him, and take you in all the ways he’s dreamed off. The glimpse of your black panties below that damn skirt has him more than ready for you.

You tug him closer, interrupting the way he stares at your core. His cock already strains, begging to be buried inside you. He’s not sure where the hell this side of him came from, but the dark gleam in your eyes has him forgetting there’s anything wrong with it.

Sweat already arises on his skin, the mere thought of having you this way enough to send him into a fucking cardiac arrest. There’s no time to be timid—he reaches beneath your skirt to find the hem of your panties, mouths still clashing beautifully.

Without interrupting the kiss, you nod, lifting your hips up so he can rip the skimpy fabric from your body.

Your hands fly down to his pants, and his heart starts doing backflips. Neither of you has said a word, and he thinks for a moment that he should…just to make sure he’s what you want. But at the same time, he figures you know as much as he does how this is a long time coming.

“Do you—”

“I need you right fucking now,” you murmur, shaky fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. “Fuck, help me.”

His mouth waters. He wishes he could take his time with you, but having you squirming and asking for him to be inside you makes him crazy. Without wasting another second, he reaches down and pushes his pants down to the middle of his thighs. He gasps when you grab him over his boxers, gripping him like you’ve done this exact thing with him hundreds of times.

God, he can’t fucking take it anymore. Pushing your back down against the desk, he flips your skirt up to expose your slick entrance to him. One of his hands grips your hip and digs his nails into your skin, and the other pushes his boxers down.

He debates with himself for a second on how he should do this. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but he’ll really fucking explode if he’s not inside you within the next ten seconds. He plans on being good, on giving you a second to adjust to him, but when he gently starts pushing inside you, your wetness gushes around him.

Your walls stretch to accommodate him, and your back arches on the wood, and your mouth falls open, and suddenly he can’t control himself. If he gives himself a few seconds to enjoy you while he’s buried so deep, he’ll never be able to let you go. He’ll need to be inside all the time, and that doesn’t sound much like best friends.

Your moans spill recklessly past your lips, the jolt of his thrusts distorting the sound. Fuck, he loves you, but he never imagined sex could feel this good. You flutter around him, urging his cock to move faster, and he does his best to oblige. The desk slams into the wall over and over again, the sound almost as erotic as the sight before him.

You try and fail to find something to hold onto, and when he sees your friendship bracelet—the one with his fucking name on it—he loses it. He puts his hand beneath your neck, pulling you up so you’re face to face. Your face is blissed out, eyes barely staying open as he gives you everything he’s got.

His skin is sticky with sweat, the clothes uncomfortably clinging to his back, he reaches between the two of you, growing frustrated that he left your skirt on. He throbs inside you, desperate to reach his end, so gives the fabric a firm tug, and you gape when it rips at the seam. He half-expects you to scold him for ruining a perfectly good outfit, but instead, your hips buck toward his.

A tingling sensation forms at the base of his length, and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before he reaches completion. Without wasting another second, his hand dives between your legs, your arousal making his thumb glide effortlessly across your clit.

Your body shakes, and you lean forward to bury your head in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to contain yourself. He can’t hold back his moans, moving just a bit faster and adjusting his angle to increase your pleasure.

“Fuck, Ch—”

He tangles his fingers in your hair and tugs you back to watch your face.

“Fu—Close,” you whine, lifting your hips to match his thrusts. “I’m cu—”

You cut yourself off with a scream of pleasure, and he swears your walls clamp down on him so tightly, his cock will get stuck. His thrusts falter at the overwhelming feeling of your euphoria, and as soon as it hits you, he’s spurting inside you.

He kisses up the side of your neck, barely breathing properly as he regains his composure. His orgasm wracks his body, pulsing throughout his veins and his bones.

You grasp onto him for dear life, and he returns your embrace. His chest is against yours, both hearts pounding.

And then reality sets in. The music returns to his ears, the beat to Cruel Summer still on a loop, and he wonders how closely you relate to the lyrics.

“Um,” you say breathlessly. “Wow.”

“That…”

“Happened.” You nod, a dazed look on your face as you blink past the shock.

He gulps, wishing that best friend telepathy was real at a time like this. How does he respond to that? Did you enjoy it? Are you already regretting it?

“Chenle,” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“You’re still…inside me.”

His face burns, and he quickly pulls out of you, trying not to look at the mess he knows is between your legs. He turns away from you to settle himself back in his pants, and he finds your panties on the ground where he threw them.

He gives them to you, and you awkwardly shuffle off the desk before sliding the fabric back up your legs. But he doesn’t want you to…walk away. He wants to take you back to his bed and cuddle you to sleep. To take care of you like he should after such an intimate moment.

Surely, he can’t kiss you, can he?

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Seriously?” You frown at him. “That’s what you want to ask me right now?”

“I don’t really know how to—”

The front door opens, just down the hall as your drunk group of friends arrives back. Your face drops, and you curse under your breath.

“Damn it.” You frantically look around for something to cover your lower half before you go.

Guilt tears at Chenle’s chest—not just because of the ripped skirt, but because it seems like you’re not very happy with your decision. The last thing he ever wanted was to push you into anything. He grabs a blanket from the couch on the other side of the room and hands it to you.

“Chenle! (Y/N)!” Jaemin’s hammered voice booms across the house.

“(Y/N), can we just—”

“Not now, Chenle.” You shake your head, wrapping yourself up in the blanket and grabbing the split fabric to hide it.

You loop your fingers in his belt loops to tug him close to you, and his jaw drops as he stumbles over. Instead of doing any of the things he wanted you to, you tuck his shirt into his jeans. He’s about to ask you what you’re doing, but then he feels how soaked it is.

Again, his face is on fire. How the hell is he supposed to do this?

He runs his fingers through your hair to fix the tangles, heart racing. As soon as he takes a step away from you, the door opens. Jaemin pours in without any concern.

“Well,” you say, chuckling. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“(Y/N), wait—” Chenle reaches out to you but decides at the last minute to stop, knowing how much is riding on that damn blanket staying put.

“Goodnight, Chenle.” You glance at him, eyes wide and swirling with something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“It smells weird in here,” Jaemin grumbles as he waddles around the room. “Why?”

“Dunno,” Chenle replies with a grimace. “It’s because you’re drunk. Off to bed with all of us.”

Yep…except he’ll be alone, when all he wants is to be curled up with you.

Day 3 | June 3rd

When Chenle wakes up in the morning, he’s pretty sure everything was a dream. He messes with the bracelet latched on his wrist, gulping at the memory of you. How is he supposed to act normally now?

He has to talk to you. Figure out what the hell you’re thinking, because if you regret it, it might break his heart, but he’ll know how you feel about him. You’ve told each other stories of previous relationships, hook-ups, whatever just came out randomly. He never imagined he’d be one of those hook-ups.

And now his bed is all too empty without you, and it’s only day three.

Images of the night before flash through his mind, and he analyzes everything he sees to try and figure out what he did wrong. If he did something wrong. You almost always sleep next to him, so if this persists, the others will begin to notice, too.

He gets out of bed, hands shoved into the pockets of his pajama pants as he makes his way to the kitchen. Everyone else is awake, the guys and Heewon sitting on the couch. You and Chaeyoung were nowhere to be found, but he tried his best to make it nonchalant. He didn’t want everyone to know he messed up with you. That explanation would be hard.

He glances in the kitchen and still doesn’t see you or your closest friend (besides him, obviously), so he sighs and sits on the far end of the couch. The awkwardness creeps in, like the whole group secretly knows what you two did. Like they’re silently judging him for single-handedly ruining your friendship.

“Who shit in your cheerios?” Hyuck asks, shifting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Huh?” Chenle frowns. “Nothing happened. I’m just tired.”

“Oh, (Y/N) said you weren’t feeling well last night. She and Chaeyoung went to town to grab some medicine or something.” Mark stretches before getting up to go into the kitchen. “She seemed worried, are you okay?”

Chenle gulps, and he hopes it’s not noticeable. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

Thankfully, they continue their conversation. He can relax for a bit, and then when you come back, he’ll pull you aside. After all, he won’t let this fester. He needs to talk to you—to find out if you view him any differently since he crossed that line with you. The last thing he wants is for anything to change. He likes your friendship the way it is, but he’s also been so desperately in love with you for so long that hope clings to him like a leech.

The door opens, and his head jolts toward it when he hears your laugh. His hands clench into fists, and he’s halfway certain he looks like a lost puppy right now.

The second you see him, he watches your expression change. Your giggle stops halfway through, and you clear your throat as you give him the same wide-eyed look you gave him last night. He wants to jump up and tell you things don’t have to change, maybe even beg you for your forgiveness and say he’ll do anything to keep you in his life—

You and Chaeyoung disappear into the kitchen, and Mark comes back in shortly after. Chenle’s getting antsy, his anxiety sparking at the bottom of his spine as his foot taps on the floor. If he jolts up and runs after you, everyone will know something is wrong.

And if they all know, it’s only a matter of time before Jaemin opens his big mouth, and then you’ll be forever embarrassed by the idea of sleeping with Chenle, and summer vacations will never be the same.

So he gives you five minutes.

“...need to figure things out.” Chaeyoung’s voice is hushed, standing next to you on the far end of the kitchen.

“Yeah, tell me about it. But I—” You stop the moment you catch Chenle in the room.

“I think Jeno needs me for something,” Chaeyoung mentions, sending a small smile his way before darting out of the room. He sighs. If you told Chaeyoung, you’re probably more freaked out than he thought.

You look down at your feet as he approaches you.

“We need to talk about this,” he mutters. “I don’t like feeling like I fucked up.”

Your gaze darts up to his, your eyebrows furrowed as you scan over his face. “This isn’t really the best place to talk, Le. Any of them could walk in right now.’

“I’m not just—I’m not going to forget about it. It happened, okay? And it’s okay if you’re upset by it and you never want to be near me again, but I…I need to know. The silence is killing me.” He realizes it hasn’t been that long, but sleeping alone really got to him.

“Why would you think I’m upset?” you ask.

“You practically ran away from me last night. And you usually sleep with me, and you didn’t. You didn’t even tell me you were going anywhere this morning.”

“I figured you’d know where I was going.” You cross your arms over your chest, glancing away from him.

“How could I possibly have known?” he inquires.

“Chenle…” You let out a small laugh. “You…you came inside me last night. Chaeyoung took me to buy Plan B.”

His jaw drops as he flounders for words. Cheeks burning, he drops his head into his hands and sighs. “I’m a fucking idiot. I didn’t even realize, I was so—I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I would ever—”

“Relax.” You put your hands on his shoulders. “I was the one who kissed you. You’re psyching yourself out, because I don’t regret it or anything like that. Actually, I’d…kinda like to do it again.”

Alarm bells ring in his head, and his eyeballs feel like they’re about to pop out of his skull when he looks at you fast enough to give himself whiplash.

“You want to…” he trails off, lowering his voice. “...have sex with me again?”

“I mean, only if you want to.” You chew the inside of your cheek, fidgeting with your fingers. Quickly, you continue, “Obviously, nothing has to change. Like, I’m not asking you for…a relationship or anything. There won’t be any rules. Except the fact that you have to…you know, use a condom, but we could just…have a good summer.”

His heart sinks. What you’re proposing is not what he wants. It further proves to him you don’t reciprocate the feelings that led him to his recklessness last night. He shouldn’t agree. No, he should say he’d prefer to keep anything…sexual…out of your friendship, but God damn it, he was tired of leaving his love on the side. Maybe he can’t tell you out loud, but if you’re okay with sleeping with him, he’ll show you.

“Chenle?” you whisper. “I’m sorry if that’s too much. You can forget I said anything.”

You scramble to gather yourself before you try to turn away from him. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you back to him.

“I wasn’t expecting that.” He pauses, sighing. “Are you sure, (Y/N)? This could get messy.”

“I know I said no rules, but I’m a little bit of a control freak—”

“You act like this is the first time I’ve met you.” Chenle chuckles.

You glare at him before continuing. “Anyway. Nobody can know. I told Chae, but she had to drive me so she doesn’t count. Plus, she won’t tell the others. So, we act normal around our friends, okay? And we don’t…talk about it. Things happen as they will, and we wait until at least the end of June to figure things out.”

“It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he admits, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“We don’t have to change. But I did like yesterday, and it’s been so long since someone’s made me—” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips into a line. “You know what I mean.”

“I…Yeah, I do know you’ve been with trash guys—”

You gently smack his chest, glaring at him. “That was not permission for a dig.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, his heart melting in his chest when he sees the smile spread on your face. Maybe you don’t have feelings for him, but you don’t hate him—that’ll be enough to get him through this. At least for a while.

“So, we’re good?” You look up at him.

He’s no match for you. Not in any case or situation. His heart belongs to you, and it tears him apart piece by piece to know yours isn’t his.

“Of course, we’re good.” He nods, pulling you in for a hug and sighing in relief. “We can do whatever you want to do.”

“Oh, but that sounds like you don’t want to.” You cringe, but he laughs.

“This is kind of new territory, you know. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have done it the first time.” God, but he wants so much more. He wants all of you, not just momentary flings.

You pull back from him, your gaze gleaming. “And how long have you wanted to do that?”

“I’ll have to get drunk before I tell you the answer to that.” He snorts. “Let’s go back out there before they realize how long we’ve been in here.”

The rest of the day was uneventful to say the least. Chenle was happy to have you back at least in your normal friendship way, so he just enjoyed the way you put your legs over his lap and rested your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t feel awkward around the group like he expected to be, but it wasn’t until later in the night when it really set in. With the two of you in his bedroom, the door closed (and locked).

Watching you closely, he’s dying to reach out and touch you. He’s not sure if it’s normal urges he always felt or if they’re new, from the way he had you just yesterday. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fidgets with his hands.

“You don’t have to be awkward,” you mention to him as you pull your shirt over your head.

He’s not a stranger to seeing your body. You’ve never been uncomfortable changing with him in the room, and he does the same with you. He almost laughs to himself at the thought of seeing you more naked beforehand than while you had sex. His mind races, and when you reach behind your back for the clasp of your bra, his face heats up and he averts his gaze.

It doesn’t matter what he agreed to—it doesn’t feel right to look at you in a state like this without your permission.

Once you’ve pulled one of his T-shirts over your head, you walk over to him, nestling yourself between his legs. He gulps as he looks up at you. Your finger traces along his jaw, eyes scanning over his face.

“Normal, right?” he whispers, gripping the back of your thighs.

“Totally normal.” You nod.

“But I still can…kiss you? If I feel like it?” His voice almost fails him, his heart lodged in his throat.

“When we’re alone, you can do whatever you want.”

Your words make his heart stop in his chest, and he realizes the implications of this. If he’s fallen completely for you without kissing, sex, and the intimacy of those physical aspects, what will it be like when he gets you whenever he wants?

“I want it, too.” You cup his cheeks and tilt his head up.

“And if it’s just kissing?” he asks. “What if that’s all I want right now?”

“Whatever you want,” you reassure him. “I’m not expecting you to want sex every night, you psycho.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you closer, one of his hands grasping the nape of your neck. The initial brush of your lips against his has his breath shuddering. He’s not prepared for any of this. It hasn’t really sunk in yet, but the way your mouth tastes has every sense in his body heightened.

He curses under his breath when you climb on top of him and straddle his lap. It still feels like he’s taking advantage of you like this—you don’t know his true feelings, so how could he do this to you?

“Chenle.” You sigh and halt your movements. “If this is too weird for you, we don’t have to—”

He shakes his head, hands immediately flying to your ass and pushing you closer to him. His length is beginning to harden, and he moves you to make sure you feel it through his shorts.

“I…want you.” He squeezes, making your hips roll.

“Then what’s going on?” you ask.

“I just need to get used to it,” he replies. “To acknowledge how much I…It just feels kinda like I’m dreaming.”

“Why?”

“You…” His cheeks are so hot, he thinks they’ll burn off. “I never thought you’d want me like this.”

You chuckle, and much to his dismay, climb off his lap and get into bed. “Little do you know, I was thinking the same thing.”

He yearns to reach out to you, to pull you back to him, but instead, he lets out a sigh and takes his spot next to you. The last thing he needs to do is push you. He’d walk on eggshells if he had to, if only it meant he could keep whatever fragile intimacy occurring between you.

He wraps his arm around your waist, taking a deep breath as you turn toward him and bury your head in his chest.

And after you fall asleep, he’s still up through the night, trying to figure out if there’s any chance of this ending in his favor.

Day 5 | June 5th

He wants you.

Everything inside him burns at the thought of your agreement, and he needs to pull you away from your friends and have his way with you. He tells himself over and over again that patience is key, but he can’t stand it.

The last few days were uneventful—well, as uneventful as they could be when it came to his newfound physicality with you. He thinks of kissing you in front of everyone, showing all of them where his head has been since the second night at this damn place.

How is he so needy after three days?

In closed quarters, you kiss him, hug him, grind on him, he’s sure his head is going to explode any moment. The night at the bonfire is coming to a close, but not fast enough.

“(Y/N)!” Mark calls out from the water’s edge. “How much money for you to jump in?”

You let out a loud ha! and shuffle away from Chenle. The air is warm, so he knows you’ll be okay, but he’s also concerned by how much he’s interested in seeing your body soaked with—

Hyuck’s hand smacks Chenle’s chest, causing him to cough and shoot a glare at the other man. “What the hell?”

“Why are you staring like that?” Hyuck asks. “Nervous Mark’s gonna steal your girl?”

“She’s not my girl.” He has to force the words out. After all, he doesn’t really believe them….or want to. “I’m just tired.”

Donghyuck lets out a childish chuckle, putting his beer bottle to his lips and chugging the rest of it. Chenle sips his own drink, returning his grumpy stare to you. You’re laughing uncontrollably as you climb out of the water, soaked from head to toe. Your head falls back as you hit Mark’s arm, barely able to contain yourself from whatever Donghyuck made him miss.

You’re barely lit by the firelight, but Chenle’s never seen someone so beautiful. Fooling your friends won’t be hard—he knows damn well he’s always acted the same way around you that he does now, and he certainly has been this clingy since day one. You give him one of your award-winning grins, and before he can object, you flop yourself down on his lap, cackling evilly as the water soaks through his clothes, too.

“(Y/N), what the hell—” Chenle attempts to push you off, but you push yourself into him further.

“I’m soaked.” You don’t stop giggling, but Chenle hates the way he reacts to those words.

His face flames, and before you understand what happened, he pushes you from his lap so you’re sitting next to him on the chair. You look at him inquisitively, and he ignores you with another quick drink.

Music plays from the speakers. You get up to switch the song since your phone is the one set up. It’s only at that moment he realizes you know exactly what you’re doing. Cruel Summer plays, and every inch of his body catches on fire.

His throat dries, and you look at him over your shoulder.

Despite every muscle in his body craving for him to approach you and pull you back into the house, he gets up to grab another bottle instead. The night is going to drag, and he’s almost guilty for how he’s thinking. He’s supposed to be here and enjoying the summer with his friends, and all he wants is to be alone with you.

Pushing you to the back of his mind, he tries to engage more in conversations with the group. He gets into a somewhat heated discussion with Jaemin about global warming, and when you take your spot next to him, he naturally puts his arm around you as you lean into him.

“Can we go to bed?” you ask him, lips brushing his ear. “I’m tired.”

“We should wait,” he replies, taking in the rest of the group. “Just a bit longer, okay?”

You whine quietly but nod, putting your head on Chenle’s shoulder. He’s itching to drag you to his bedroom, but he wants things to be as normal as possible. The two of you rarely cut the party short, and on top of that, he’d prefer to know where everyone else was before he started touching you.

It’s only another ten minutes before Heewon decides she’s done for the night. Chenle nearly sighs in relief.

Everyone agrees to head in, and you all casually separate with a quick goodnight. As soon as Chenle’s door closes behind him, he sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“You okay?” you ask him, turning him to face you. “You’ve been off all day.”

He shakes his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he examines you. “You…you said you wanted this, and I’m kind of confused. If you act the same, how do I know when you…you know.”

Your eyes gleam as you smile at him. The sight alone has his heart doing somersaults, and he suddenly wishes he could take the question back. He’s tired of wondering—he needs to figure out what all of this means.

“You’re so cute, Lele,” you tease him. “How are you supposed to know when I want you? Always. I’ve been waiting for you to initiate because you seemed a little uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to push you.”

“So, all I need to do is tell you when I’m…” He cringes at himself. “This is weird.”

You move closer to him and sling your arms over his shoulders. “Exactly. All you have to say is that you want me, and I’m yours.” Your voice is so soft and sweet, it caresses his ears and flows into his brain, and his senses become overrun by you.

“I do. Right now.” Is all he says before he swallows his nerves and connects his mouth with yours. You gasp against him, startled at the sudden movement, but within seconds, return his gesture.

His hands move to the small of your back and press you as close as possible, his lips working messily against yours. He wastes no more time; walking you backward, he lets you fall back onto the mattress.

Settling himself between your legs, he takes a second to look at you—to study your face and the look in your eyes that’s never really changed. He wonders how long you’ve wanted him for. Your thighs part to welcome him perfectly, sighing when he rolls his hips tentatively.

“This,” he whispers, lips grazing your neck. “This is how it should’ve been the first time.”

His nerves seep away when your body shudders beneath his. Your hair is still slightly damp, clinging to your skin and enticing him further. He grinds his hardening length over your core and kisses you gently.

“You have to be quiet,” he continues. “Jaemin and Jeno are right down the hall.”

You nod, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him back to you. “I know. I’ll be good, Lele.”

He gapes for a moment, not used to words having such an effect on him. Gulping, he reaches up and runs his thumb along your bottom lip.

“That’s right,” he confirms. “Be a good girl for me and you won’t regret it.”

Your gaze gets a shade darker, and the thought of what awaits him beneath your clothes overwhelms him completely. You grab at his shirt, attempting to pull it off his body. He moves back to remove it, and then you’re arching your back to allow him to do the same to you. Sitting on his knees, he moves his hands up your body until they’re squeezing your breasts through your black lace bra.

“Can I—”

“You don’t have to ask, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, lifting his head so he sees you. “I trust you.”

He’s uncomfortably hard at this point as he takes your shorts off you. Your panties match your bra, and he swears he’s never been closer to finishing in his pants. Nobody has ever made him weak like you do. They’ve never appealed to him in the same way, a way of adoration and love and all the beautiful things life has to offer.

You sit up to unclasp the material supporting your chest, tossing it across the room. Everything inside Chenle melts. You, in this vulnerable state, staring at him impatiently as he pushes you back against the mattress.

He dips down, taking your nipple in his mouth. A quiet sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and his hips buck against yours. He grinds against you as if he’s already thrusting in and out, and he groans at the thought of your wetness all over him.

His nails drag up and down your thigh, and as he pulls away from your breast to move to the other, a strand of saliva follows. The sight is far more erotic than he imagined, and he grips your thigh harshly.

“Kiss me,” you ask him. “Please.”

And someone like him could never deny someone like you—he lunges upward to capture your mouth, his tongue battling with yours as he moves his hand to the hem of your panties. He pulls away for a second, glancing at you once for confirmation.

You nod, almost frantically, and he decides it’s okay to let go for tonight. You want him as badly as he wants you, so why should he hold back? He curses under his breath the second he feels your arousal on his fingertips.

At first, he teases you, running his finger up your entrance until he’s brushing your clit. He smirks at the way you squirm beneath him, desperate for his touch. He’s the one you want.

“Ask me nicely,” he hums against your neck. “Be good and tell me you need me.”

“God, Chenle,” you whine, rocking your hips. “Please touch me. I need you so bad.”

His own eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when he pushes two fingers inside of you. You grip him so tightly, he wonders how you took him so well just a few nights before. He’d been an asshole and got right to it instead of working you up.

Your breaths turn into whimpers, and your walls quiver around him. He’s already lost in you, in the way you feel on his fingers and the scrunch of your face as you try to hold back the noises you’re desperate to make. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to fall for you more than he already has, but tonight, he learns that falling in love is not linear, and it doesn’t stop.

Tonight, he finds out that it’s a free fall into the deepest ocean, and the only option is to sink further in the water and let the waves take him.

He swallows your quiet moan, positioning his thumb on your clit as he continues his descent into madness. Your walls begin to tighten, so he instinctively kisses you, using his hand to help you ride out the high that’s sending shivers down your body. You squirm beneath him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip.

“Where are the condoms?” he asks you.

Still dazed, you blink a couple times. “Uh, I…they’re in the nightstand I think.”

He kisses your cheek, irritated at the coldness when he moves away from you. Sighing in relief once he finds the box, he opens it and tears one away from the rest. He tries to swallow his nerves, but when he sees you resting on your elbows, waiting for him, he halts.

This is you.

The one he’s always been able to be himself around, and what if he’s ruining it by thinking with his dick?

“I know that look.” You lift yourself off the bed and approach him, grabbing the wrapper from him. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I want to,” he says, wetting his lips. “I want you, but I don’t want to lose you.”

You frown, shaking your head and pulling him closer. “It doesn’t matter how this goes, Le. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”

I love you almost slips, but he holds it back. But God, he’s sure he’s never loved you more.

You reach down to push his shorts and boxers down before guiding him back. He sits on the edge of the bed, gripping your hips and refraining from yanking you onto his lap and sliding his cock in.

When you open the condom wrapper, his heart is about to jump out of his chest. And then you’re putting it on him, pushing your panties to the floor, climbing onto his lap to straddle him, and rubbing his tip against your entrance.

It’s like time stops as you sink down on his length. Moonlight flits in through the windows, illuminating your body and your skin and the subtle eye roll. He can’t breathe. Every time he tries, his lungs fail him, as if you’re drowning him with everything you have.

He wraps his arms around you, your chest pressing to his as he slowly, slowly guides you down on him. You both sigh together, trying not to alert your friends down the hall.

“You’re amazing,” he mutters, dazed. “Feels so fucking good.”

You drop your head onto his shoulder, your uneven breaths fanning across his skin. He rocks his hips, but your tightness almost makes it hard for him to move. This time, he doesn’t want to rush. He wants to enjoy all you have to offer and take his time with you—make love to you, really.

“Hold on, baby,” he whispers, wrapping you in his arms. “Gonna turn us over.”

He does just that, the clench of your walls on his cock enough to make him delirious. After you shift to get comfortable, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pushes your hand deep into the mattress next to your head.

With his chest brushing yours, he moves, taking his time in pulling out only to push back in. Your head falls back against the mattress, your eyes closing. You squeeze his hand as hard as you can, doing your best to lift your hips to match his thrusts.

The room is full of moonlight, soft pleasure, and the sound of him pushing into your dripping entrance.

He whispers praises in your ear, telling you how good you make him feel and how you take him so well. The slickness of sweat makes your bodies stick together, and the room gets hotter and hotter the longer he’s seated deeply inside you.

The first time he had you, he barely had time to process what happened. This time, he’s basking in the moment, giving you gentle kisses over your face as he keeps a steady pace. He wants to stay here like this forever, but he knows better than to let that thought run rampant in his head.

He releases your hand—which ends up in his hair—as he reaches between the two of you and presses his fingers to your clit. You whine a little louder than you should, so Chenle silences you with his mouth. The position is a bit awkward for him, but the buck of your hips makes sure that’s the last thing on his mind.

Your body shudders beneath him, moans spilling into his mouth for him to swallow and keep for his own. He thrusts a little faster, eager to bring you to your edge and experience your pleasure for himself.

You whisper his name like a mantra, euphoria quickly claiming you as you drag your nails down his back. In the midst of that feeling and your walls clamping around him, he bursts into the condom, cursing under his breath.

Despite his dry throat, he manages to kiss along your neck while attempting to regain his breath.

“That,” he tells you. “Is how it should’ve been.”

“Feel free to do it like that all the time.” Your tired giggle fills his ears.

He squeezes your thigh gently as he pulls out of you, ready to groan at the loss. You lay there with a smile on your face as he disposes of the condom in the adjoining bathroom. When he returns to you, he’s surprised to find you under the blankets on your side.

When he raises an eyebrow at you, you shrug. “You can get dressed if you want. I’m too tired.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he climbs into bed next to you and pulls you close to him. Your skin is damp with sweat, but he’s sure his is worse. He kisses the top of your head, and just like so many nights before, he hums songs for you until you fall asleep.

Day 6 | June 6th

In the night, you curled further into him. His eyes are closed, but he’s been up for a while. Fingers trailing up and down your spine, he thinks he’s reached his peak. The summer sun amplified through the window warms his skin, but more importantly, it illuminates you and the softness of your features as you sleep.

The brightness blinds him, but he doesn’t mind. Not when his focal point is you.

He made love to you last night. All of his feelings were delivered to you on a silver platter and, just for a brief moment, he thinks he saw it back from you. Like there’s a part of you—however small—that wanted him the same way.

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall wakes you, and you wrap your arm around him tighter.

“This is nice,” you murmur, kissing the base of his neck.

“I think so, too.”

“Do we have to get up?” You shake your head as if answering your own question.

He chuckles. “It might look weird if we don’t.”

“I need to shower.” You shift onto your back and run your hands down your face.

He uses the opportunity to move over you and kiss down your neck, finding your pulse quicker than it should be after just waking up. Nipping your skin to stop his smirk, he inhales your scent.

“You could always come with,” you offer, running your fingers through his hair.

“Now, that’ll be obvious.” He chuckles and pulls away from you, removing himself from the blanket as he stretches. When he looks back at you, you’ve already grabbed his T-shirt from the ground and are in the process of putting it on. He gets a brief glimpse of you. Slamming his eyes shut, he assumes nothing good will come of seeing your naked image in his mind over and over again.

The bed dips behind him as you climb over, draping your arms over his neck and kissing his cheek. “You should do it anyway.”

He snorts and pushes you away jokingly. With your signature grin plastered on your face, you make your way into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Once he hears the water starting, he drags himself over to his bag to get dressed. He decides on a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and on his way out of the room, Jeno is also heading for the kitchen.

Chenle avoids his eyes as much as possible, wondering if any of his escapade with you last night was audible for him or Jaemin. Chasing the thought out of his head, he goes straight for the water bottles in the fridge.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Mark asks, eating the watermelon Chaeyoung cut up a couple days back.

“She’s in the shower,” Chenle replies nonchalantly, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.

“You didn’t want to join her?” Heewon laughs from the side as she butters her toast.

He narrows his eyes in her direction. “And why would I do that?”

“Well, you guys do everything else together,” she replies.

That earns her a cackle from Hyuck, but Chenle shakes his head.

“We don’t do everything else together.”

“Right, you guys are just dating without the benefits of getting off.” Mark pretends to be lost in thought.

Chenle’s heart twists violently in his chest, nearly lurching him forward. He wants everything from you—anything you want to give him, he’d take without hesitation. Heewon scolds Mark quietly and smacks his arm, because apparently that was what was too far.

He half expects Jeno to pipe up and expose exactly how opposite your relationship with Chenle is now, but he stays silent. Hopefully, that means Jaemin and Jeno heard nothing from last night. Your sounds were for Chenle and Chenle only, and a part of him felt glory in that.

The teasing from the friend group never bothered him before, but with this new side of your relationship, he let the words sink in deep.

How exactly was he going to make it out of this unscathed?

Day 8 | June 8th

Both of you knew it was risky, but something about you had him bent way out of shape. The group was doing their yearly ice cream run in less than an hour, and all he cared about at the moment was being inside you.

He put you on the bathroom counter, your body next to falling off it if he wasn’t holding onto you so tightly. Without much warning, he enters you completely with one thrust. His hand covers your mouth, capturing the moan spilling past your lips. Your eyes roll back, and he swears that sight alone is almost enough to get him off.

You murmur his name against his palm, head lolling back.

“Sorry, Sunshine.” He nips your earlobe as he rocks his hips gently to help you adjust to his size. “We’ve gotta be fast.”

“‘M good,” you say, gripping tightly onto his shoulders.

He takes the hint, beginning his movements a bit quicker than he normally would. Even though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in days, the world sways around him as if he’s drunk. You’re what’s intoxicating him, and in the moments where you’re connected, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.

One hand rests on the small of your back, and the other stays on your mouth, desperate to finish but needing you to stay quiet. Whenever he thinks of being with you in this way, he tries to fuck you in the ways you deserve—make you feel so good you’re dreaming about it long after you’re done—but both of you are far too desperate right now to consider anything like that.

Your nails leave angry red crescents in his skin, but it only spurs him faster. His hips rutt against yours, his body craving the complete euphoria he’s only ever been able to accomplish with you.

His gaze meets yours, and he finds your eyebrows furrowed. Since he’s got such a firm grip on you, you move one of your hands and slide it down your body, watching him closely as if he’s going to stop you.

As soon as your fingers find your clit, you groan and your walls flutter around his cock. He curses, and his next sharp thrust has you whining.

“I’m so…” you trail off, body nearly falling limp in his grasp.

But just before you reach your high, the bedroom door opens, and there’s approximately two seconds before whoever walks in sees inside the bathroom. The next curse that falls from his lips is for two reasons—one, because all he needed was another minute, and he would’ve reached his high. Two, because he now has to figure out a way to make this look like anything except what it is.

He pulls out of you, readjusting your panties and guiding you off the counter before he tucks his painfully hard cock back into his sweats, condom and all.

“(Y/N)’s sick,” he calls out. “Give us a few minutes and we’ll come out okay? She’ll kill me if I let you see her like this.” He moves over to the door and closes it, locking it before whoever it is can see the mess you’ve turned him into.

“Oh, be fucking for real,” Chaeyoung’s voice says. “(Y/N), are you really sick? Or are you two—”

You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear her. Instead of letting Chenle answer, you pull your shirt down to cover yourself before cracking the door open.

“I’m okay. We’ll be out in like, two seconds.”

“You horny bitch.” Chaeyoung purses her lips. “Can’t stay off his dick for five minutes.”

Chenle feels his insides churning at that comment. For a moment, he’s sure she’s being serious, but then both of you burst into laughter, and Chenle’s blood cools.

“We would’ve been out already if you hadn’t interrupted us.” You pinch your fingers together. “I was this close.”

“Are you at least using condoms?” she asks in a hushed voice, turning the tips of Chenle’s ears bright pink.

“Yes, mom, now if you could go, I need to put some actual clothes on.” You shoo her away.

“The guys want ice cream. No dick until later,” she tells you, laughing as she walks out of the room.

You let out a sigh and close the door again, biting down on your bottom lip as you look at Chenle.

“Sorry, we don’t really have TMIs, so she…” You clear your throat.

“No, that’s…that’s good that you have someone to talk to about all of this that’s not me,” he says, walking up to you to put his hands on your hips and tug you close. “You think she’ll be mad if I just…”

He turns you so your back is to his chest, lips latching onto your neck as his touch trails down to the hem of your panties.

“I’d hate to leave you hanging when you were this close.” He tongues along your pulse, skimming below the hem of your panties.

“You’d better make it quick, Lele.” You lean your head back on his shoulder. “She’ll kill us.”

He grins smugly at the invitation, allowing his fingertips to graze lower until he finds your clit. You’re still soaked from being robbed of your high, so your body jerks at the sensation. He grinds against your ass, proving to you how badly he wants to be inside you.

“T-this is going to be embarrassingly fast.” You pant, rocking your hips back and forth. “I need more.” Your hands grip the edge of the countertop, pained whines escaping you.

He moves faster on your clit, and before he’s able to comprehend what’s happening, you squirm and bite down on your hand to stop your noises.

“Look at yourself, baby,” he whispers, his other hand sliding up to your throat to guide your face toward the mirror. “Look at how fucking good you look when I’m touching you.”

You inhale sharply, moving your own hand up to his to press his fingers in around your neck. He rubs you faster, taking his own initiative in squeezing you to control your breathing. Looking up at your reflection, he almost starts drooling at the sight of what he’s doing to you.

Your whines turn into breathless wheezes, and seconds later, you part your lips to let out a silent scream of pleasure as your insides clench around nothing.

He slows his circles to help you come down from your high, showering your shoulder and neck with kisses.

“Alright,” he whispers, retracting his touch from you. “We’d better get going.”

“But you didn’t—”

“You’ll make it up to me later.” He kisses you one last time. “You look so fucking sexy when I’m touching you.”

“Keep talking like that and we’ll never make it out of this bathroom,” you warn him.

You’re doing it on purpose.

Every year, the group goes to the same place for ice cream. Chenle’s been coming here ever since he was a young boy, but it’s been at least 5 years since he started bringing the rest of your friends, too. They have new experimental flavors, and it’s his mission to try all of them.

So, of course, he chooses one, and you choose a different one. The two of you are meant to be acting normally, but the way your lips close around his spoon has his mind spiraling. Not to mention how you make eye contact with him, and that damn gleam in your gaze is enough to make his cock jump in his pants.

How did he ever live without being inside you before?

“Hey, guys.” Chaeyoung tosses her arms over the two of you, grinning widely before lowering her voice. “If you don’t want people to know, you’re doing an awful job. You’re looking at each other like you ingested the worst Harry Potter love potion imaginable.”

The word love throws him off track, and he quickly takes his spoon away from you and side steps to run his fingers through his hair. He has no idea what’s gotten into him. Usually, he’s pretty good about this kind of stuff. And to be honest, before he started messing around with you, he wasn’t nearly as horny as he is now.

No, because now, he feels like he needs to be touching you constantly, and if he’s not, he’s wasting valuable time.

He tries his best to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. At some point, you’ll have to go back to being just his best friend. It pains him that this can’t be forever, but at the end of the day, he has you. Whether or not it’s completely is a different story.

Everyone takes their usual table outside, and you sit between him and Chaeyoung. The guys converse, the girls laugh over something, but Chenle isn’t joining either conversation. Worry sinks deep in his gut instead. He wonders if it’s okay for him to be as nonchalant about the two of you having sex as he is.

You’re his best friend. Regardless of his feelings toward you, he should’ve done the mature, right thing and declined this offer.

But he’s in too deep now, and all it takes is one wide smile from you to tilt the earth on its axis.

For the next couple hours at this ice cream parlor, things are back to normal. He suppresses his urges the way he always has. His mind lingers on you, especially when your voice and your laugh echoes in his ears, and this time…

This time, he knows what he has to do.

Day 15 | June 15th

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” You close his bedroom door behind you and cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, frowning.

“Don’t play stupid.” Your foot taps anxiously on the ground. “One week, we’re all over each other, and now you’ve barely even touched me since Chaeyoung almost walked in on us. Is that what’s going on? You’re weirded out that she knows things about us?”

“Us.” He scoffs, tugging his fingers through his hair. “What us, (Y/N)?”

You visibly recoil, hurt playing out on your face as Chenle instantly regrets his words. Even then, he’s not going to back down from this.

“You’re starting to piss me off.”

“I…I don’t want sex.” He shrugs.

You wet your lips and narrow your eyes, trying to comprehend what he means by that. “That’s just—like, that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel like you have to have sex with me, Le, but if our friendship is going to survive this, I need you to be honest and open with me.”

“The sex isn’t the problem.”

“Oh.” Your voice waivers, and he immediately wishes he never opened his mouth. A short laugh of disbelief escapes you.

“It’s not you, either,” he quickly adds, grabbing onto your hand. “It’s really not. I…I still need my best friend, though. And it feels like I’m losing that side of you because things are changing. You said nothing would change.”

“I haven’t changed,” you tell him. “Everything I do is exactly what I’ve done last year or the year before that. I’ve been teasing you a little, yeah, but I thought you liked it. Am I an idiot?”

Chenle’s chest deflates. “No. No, you’re not an idiot. I’m an asshole.” He pulls you to his chest and cradles the back of your head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a little kid. All I want is my best friend, and I’m scared that after all of this is over, I’m gonna lose you. I don’t know how to live without you. You know that.”

“You’d only have to worry about ruining our friendship if the dick was bad.” Despite the thickness of your voice, your humor breaks through.

He snorts and pushes you away, rolling his eyes. “Dude, for real?”

“I’m just being honest.” You tug on his arm, and for a moment, he sees a glimpse of your previous friendship.

Maybe everything can work out.

“As your best friend, I think we should watch that movie with Mark and Chae.” You grab his hand and play with his fingers.

“Okay.” He nods. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That’s how he ends up curled up with you on the couch, your back pressed to his chest and snuggled up with a blanket. He feels at peace for the first time in a long time, the steadiness of your breathing almost enough to lull him to sleep. The screen plays some sort of superhero movie, but he’s not too interested in it. He’s more interested in the way a small sound tumbles from your lips as you turn toward him.

He holds you close, smiling to himself at the warmth you create. When he glances back up, he meets Chae’s gaze. The woman scans over the two of you, her expression warm. Chenle thinks he imagined it for a moment since he’s so tired, but Chae gives him a thumbs up and turns back to the screen.

Day 16 | June 16th

“Chenle, can I talk to you for a minute?” Chaeyoung asks, leaning on the archway leading into the kitchen.

You went with Heewon and Jaemin to the store, so he had nothing to do otherwise. He nods and follows her into the other room. Grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, he tiredly gives her all of his attention.

“What’s up?”

“I saw the way you looked at her yesterday,” she begins, tapping her fingernails against the carpet. “So either you know how you feel or you’re in denial, but you need to tell her. One or both of you are going to get hurt by the end of this if you’re not honest with each other.”

“I appreciate the advice, Chae, but I’m not sure you have all of the facts.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest.

“And what am I missing?” she asks.

“Honestly, you may know some things, but you’ll never know all of it,” he replies. “It’ll never be an easy situation to digest, but we’re best friends. We’re mature enough to handle this.”

“You realize if this all falls apart, it’s going to fuck up the rest of the group, too?” She frowns. “You guys aren’t really thinking this through.”

Right when Chenle goes to answer her, the front door opens, and he hears your conversation with Heewon spill through the house.

“Thanks for your concerns.” Chenle nods once before turning around to find you.

Day 17 | June 17th

Chenle throws his head back, hand tangled in your hair as you take his cock in your mouth. He sits on the edge of the bed and you kneel before him, drooling over his length. Your moans vibrate around him. This is the first time you’ve sucked him off, but he’s already found out this is as addicting as everything else.

“That’s it.” He allows his eyes to flutter shut and his eyebrows furrow the closer he gets. “You always take my cock so well, Sunshine.”

You whine, and his hips buck, slamming his tip into the back of your throat. You constrict around him, and his grip on your head tightens. God, he can’t fucking think straight around you. Your nails dig into his thighs, and despite choking around him, you continue bobbing your head up and down.

The base of his length starts to tingle, and he tugs your hair gently. “Gonna cum, baby, you don’t have to—fuck.”

Your response is to simply hollow your cheeks, the lewd sounds around the two of you almost loud enough to make him worry about others hearing it. The suction from your mouth has him approaching his high rapidly, and once you reach up to touch his balls, he cums in white spurts deep in your throat.

Day 18 | June 18th

“Chenle,” you whisper, leaning closer to him.

The summer wind brushes past the two of you sitting on the little porch connected to his bedroom. It’s the middle of the night, and the only thing covering you is a soft blanket. He has his own, but he regrets that. He wants to be wrapped up with you. The waves crash to the shoreline, the salty, ocean scent infiltrating everything around him.

“Yeah?”

“This is my favorite summer,” you tell him.

“Me too.” He squeezes your arm. “I’d stay just like this forever if I could.”

You make him open his arms before shifting yourself onto his lap and covering him with your blanket as you grind your bare body down onto his.

“What’s the likelihood they hear us out here?” you ask, leaning in to kiss along his neck.

“They’ve got a better chance of hearing us inside than this…” he trails off, wondering if he should really allow something like this to happen.

But soon enough, you kiss him for real. And when your lips are working on his, he’s inherently weak for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden, and once it does, you line him up with your entrance.

“We don’t have a condom,” he chokes out, gripping your ass.

“Pull out when you’re about to cum, then,” you tell him. “If that’s okay?”

His hand finds the nape of your neck, pulling your mouth to his to seal his fate with a kiss. He guides you down on his cock, groaning at the feeling of taking you raw. You don’t even give yourself time to adjust, instead working your way through your sensitivity by bouncing on him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he reminds you. “Look at how well you take my cock.”

He’s learned so much about you during this short time, but he loves knowing what makes you crumble within minutes. His fingers wrap around your throat, and as he puts the perfect amount of pressure, your eyes roll and your hips work faster.

He tightens his grip, and your whine is interrupted. You show him no mercy, lifting and falling with such precision he wants to fill you up with his load.

The blanket is secure on your grip draping off of Chenle’s shoulders, so you nearly fall against him when his fingers connect with your clit. He’s teetering close to the edge, but he knows he has to pull out. No way is he cumming before you.

Your arousal makes him glide against your bud effortlessly, and he squeezes your throat harder at the same time.

“Chenle.” You gasp, pace changing as you get closer to your high. “Please cum inside. Need to feel your cum dripping out of m—fuck.” Your voice breaks as he thrusts up hard, hitting your spot. A broken moan escapes, nearly cut off by his grip on you, and your walls clamp down on his cock.

He watches you as he spurts his load and paints your insides, but all he sees is a blissed out smile and your heaving chest.

You slump against him and hum quietly. He grabs his blanket and wraps it around both of you, not wanting to leave you just yet. The summer breeze sweeps across the back of his neck, chilling the sweaty dampness.

He wants to tell you so badly.

He loves you. He wants to love you forever, but maybe he’ll only get these fleeting moments.

What a cruel, cruel summer this has become.

Day 19 | June 19th

The days pass so quickly. It’s been eighteen days since he first made you his, and all he wants is to make it last forever. The whole group goes to a movie theater, hopping between different rooms and films to catch a glimpse of everything that’s recently hit the big screens.

But he can’t take his eyes off of you.

The way you smile so widely in his direction. How all of your friends are so used to him being all over you.

Your laugh echoes around in his brain, and when the poor employee realizes what you’re doing, they try to stop you to figure out who you are. Chenle’s giggles join yours as he grasps your hand and pulls you toward the exit.

The two of you run, and with your fingers laced in his, you’re somehow separated from your friend group.

Once you’re outside, he presses your back to the brick of the building, kissing you in the midst of laughing. His hand latches onto the fabric of your shirt at the small of your back, and he works his lips on yours like magic.

How is he ever supposed to go back to normal after having you like this?

“Come on,” you tell him, grabbing his wrist and leading him away. “We’ve gotta find them.”

But he knows that no matter where you go, he’ll follow.

Day 20 | June 20th

He lost track of how many times his body has tangled with yours. How many times you’ve quietly, desperately called out his name while he takes you to new worlds you’ve never seen before.

He yearns to be grounded, to plant his feet back on Earth, but how does he do that when the universe that is you infiltrates his very being? All the stars and planets and milky ways and meteors float around in your dazed irises, and he caresses your face.

He loves you. He wants to tell you. He needs you to love him back.

Day 21 | June 21st

“Okay, this one is easy.” Donghyuck holds his hand up to reign in everyone’s excitement. “Never have I ever…kissed someone in the friend group.”

You glance at Chenle once, and he shrugs, so both of you lift your bottles. The point of this game? Get as drunk as possible. Every time someone says something you’ve done, you have to drink. Which means everyone is thoroughly surprised when every single person around the table sips from their cups.

“We’re the worst friend group,” Mark says, nearly hissing at the taste of the liquid burning down his throat. “We said ‘friends’ and turned it into an orgy.”

Heewon glares at him. “Dude.”

“Sorry.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

But soon enough, six pairs of eyes are on you and Chenle, and he immediately feels his face burning.

“You two want to explain?” Hyuck asks.

“Is everyone else explaining?” Chenle quirks an eyebrow, watching as Donghyuck purses his lips.

“No explanations unless you ask more questions,” you pipe up.

Chenle hopes that’ll divert the conversation from the two of you. His hand brushes over your knee under the table, and you send him a small smile.

“Fine,” Mark says. “Never have I ever kissed my best friend.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees you grab your bottle, so he doesn’t hesitate to do the same. He takes a fairly large drink, forcing the alcohol down his throat to make this night less painful.

Chaeyoung watches the two of you closely, and the rest of the group seems hyped up on adrenaline, like they’ve caught you and him in a lie of sorts. This news can’t be that shocking to them. Or maybe they’re all pining at the idea of being right.

But they’re not—you’re not in love with Chenle. Meaning, they’d be completely wrong.

Jaemin, who’s already had a bit too much from the hour of this game you’ve already been playing, laughs as he points at Chenle.

“I’ve got one.” He nods slowly, the smirk spreading across his face as he leans on Jeno’s shoulder. “Never have I ever had sex with my best friend.”

Your gasp is only audible to Chenle and Chaeyoung, who sits on the opposite side of you. Both you and Chenle are already holding your glasses, and you look at him, silently asking him if that’s something you should admit to the group.

You’re incredibly stiff, but Chenle watches as you slowly lift your hand. Before you get far, Chaeyoung smacks the back of Jaemin’s head.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” she hisses. “You can’t ask them things like that!”

Your cup lands back on the table louder than you planned. Chenle analyzes you, the stiffness of your back and the way you glance down at your lap instead of the rest of the group. His instinct makes him want to pull you away from them to somewhere you’ll be more comfortable.

“Oh, come on! They were about to admit to it.” Jaemin lets out a dramatic sigh. “Did you see the hesitation? They were seconds away from finally telling us if they’ve done it.”

Your hand lands on Chenle’s thigh, and he immediately knows what that means. A switch inside of him turns, and anger bubbles in his stomach. You’re his best friend, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else wants to know—the last thing he’ll let happen is any of them attempting to badger you into admitting something you don’t want the rest of the group to know.

“We’re all friends, why does it matter if we know or not?” Jeno agrees. “We’ve all been waiting for them to—”

“Knock it off,” Chenle deadpans, his voice dropping octaves. He leans forward, his arm crossing over you and his other hand gripping his bottle tighter. At the change in tone, everyone looks at him in shock, excitement fading into a nervous energy.

“Lighten up,” Donghyuck says. “They’re just joking—”

“Well, I’m not,” he replies, furrowing his eyebrows. “The hell’s wrong with you guys? You can’t tell when you’re making someone uncomfortable? Neither of us owe you anything, if you didn’t know that. You don’t need to know everything.”

“Okay,” Jaemin mumbles. “Didn’t know it was that big of a deal.”

“That’s because you don’t think, Jaemin. If anything happens between us that we want to share, we’ll share. But until then, mind your fucking business—”

“Lele,” you mutter to him, reaching forward to grasp his wrist in front of you. “Lele, it’s okay. They get it.”

He instantly relaxes at your words, running his tongue over his teeth as he rests back in his seat. You grasp his hand beneath the table and intertwine your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb against his skin.

“Sorry, (Y/N),” Jaemin says, fidgeting with his hands.

You give him an awkward smile and a nod. Chenle senses the atmosphere won’t return to the chaotic laughter it’d recently been filled with, so he wonders what’ll happen if he lets everyone know he’s taking you to bed.

When everyone resumes as much conversation as they can, Chenle leans in close to you to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go to bed?”

It’s well past midnight, and the alcohol is starting to settle in his system. He is tired. You run your fingers through your hair and nod. He doesn’t say anything to the rest of the group, but you mutter something to Chaeyoung, who gives you a sympathetic smile and a nod.

Although he refrains from physically leading you away, he feels everyone’s eyes on the two of you. It shouldn’t upset him as much as it does. Plus, he wouldn’t mind all that much if they knew, but seeing the way it bothered you suddenly had him on ten. There was no other solution other than to put them all in their place.

Once you’re in the confines of his room, he pulls you into a hug. You melt in his embrace, your body basically limp. He rubs up and down your back, wishing he could take that feeling away from you for good. You deserve the best, and he wants to give it to you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know why they’d fucking do that.”

You shake your head. “They’d know eventually, right? We wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret forever.”

“They should never push something like that. They’re supposed to be our friends, (Y/N). You were uncomfortable.”

“Le,” you say, pulling back to look at him. “As much as I appreciated you standing up for me, all I want right now is my best friend, okay? Just…be that guy, please.”

Both of you change into your pajamas, and then climb into bed. If you wanted him to be your best friend, he could do that. Hell, he’s spent his whole life basically doing it, so as he pulls you to his chest, it’s like muscle memory.

Everywhere Chenle is, you’re right there next to him. Never behind, never ahead, always beside.

“Chenle,” you whisper.

“Yeah, Sunshine?” He strokes your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I…Can you be my best friend and still kiss me?” you ask. “I don’t want anything else. Just kissing.”

He lifts your chin so you’re looking at him and gives you the faintest smile. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Your eyes swim with all sorts of emotions, and while he’d love to sit there and analyze each one of them, you allow them to flutter shut in anticipation of his kiss.

He can’t recall a time where he’s kissed you so gently, as if you might shatter beneath his touch. Placing his hand on the small of your back, he presses you flush against him while his mouth works so effortlessly on yours.

There’s no heat behind it. The only sounds are of the rustling of his sheets, the soft sighs, and his quiet compliments between breathing breaks. He allows himself to get lost in this, in the way it feels so different from every other kiss he’s shared with you.

Those kisses all lead to sex. They were a bridge to being physical, but now all he wants is to lie in this bed with you forever, connected in such a basic and innocent way.

“You make all of it better,” you murmur, inhaling deeply. “Everything I am is for you, Zhong Chenle.”

“And you’ve built me from the ground up,” he replies. “I was created for you. I don’t know who I am without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out.”

His heart runs rampant, doing all sorts of backflips in his chest. He starts to sweat even though he’s not physically exerting himself, and he desperately feels like he needs to grasp at something. If he doesn’t, he’ll fall…but can he even more than he already has?

Is falling in love something that happens gradually, continually, or is it all at once? Once you’ve fallen in love, can you still progress further into it, or is that feeling at its peak?

He thinks back to the first time he realized he wanted more from you. It’s been over a year since he admitted it to himself, and the person he was during that time never would believe that this is his life now.

“You promise?” Chenle’s nearly breathless, your words robbing him of the oxygen he needs to survive.

You smile ever so softly, nodding slowly. “I’m yours. Always.”

The promise sinks through his skin and into his bloodstream, flowing all the way through his body and infiltrating his brain. It means so much more to him than it means to you, he knows that, but he kisses you again anyway.

He kisses you over and over and over again. By the time the sun comes up in the morning, neither of you have slept, but your lips are swollen and your eyes are drooping.

No matter what, he’ll hold you to your word.

Day 22 | June 22nd

Two coffee cups steam from the table on Chenle’s patio. He sits, slumped, on the padded bench with you next to him, legs thrown over his lap. His thumb rubs your thigh. Exhaustion has yet to kick in, especially as he looks at you. Your hair is mussed, his T-shirt hanging off your shoulder and your shorts hiking up your thighs. Everything about this is domestic, and it makes his heart flutter.

He stayed up all night with you. The sunrise over the water leaves a calming wave cascading over him, and he gets an odd feeling that it’s all going to be okay.

He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.

You bring the coffee cup up to your lips, sighing at the taste. He made it for you. But not only that, he made it the way you’ve always loved it. You told him once, and he never forgot. Every detail he learns about you is immediately stored in his memory.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. “That way, they’ll leave us alone. And whatever we’re doing would get a little easier.”

“Would it?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“None of this is easy.” Chenle gulps, wishing he had the filter necessary to make him bite his tongue right now. “What we’re doing isn’t easy. We don’t even know what it is, so why would we try to explain it to other people?”

“Oh.” You drink more, tired gaze turning to the ocean in the distance.

“It’s not a bad thing. I’m just being honest.”

“Yeah, no, honesty is good,” you agree. “You’re right.”

“(Y/N), I—”

“No.” You hold up your hand. “We said the end of the summer, so I get it. I’d rather wait anyway.”

He wants to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, telling you all the things he loves about you and how badly he wants you to be his forever.

“I’m gonna need six more cups of coffee.” You swing your legs off of him, and leave him sitting by himself, caught up in the warm, summer breeze the same way he’s caught up in you.

Day 25 | June 25th

Going out to the bar was the worst idea ever. The more you drank, the more you wanted to be all over Chenle. He didn’t mind it, but the more he drank, the more he wanted to touch you in ways that would have every saint covering their eyes.

You turn to face him, flashing lights reflecting off your skin as you dance with him. His brain is so clouded, so foggy, but he remembers you kissing him. He groaned into your mouth, pulling you closer and doing his best to maintain a rhythm with you. For a moment, he forgets that all of your friends are here too, but he has high hopes they’ll be too drunk to recall.

You pull away, jaw dropped as you remove his grasp on your and quickly stumble toward the exit. He curses under his breath, knowing he can’t let you go alone in a state like this. The world is tilting around him as he follows you, but he refuses to let you out of his sight. The protective urges come forward.

“(Y/N)!” he calls out to you as the two of you make it outside. “Hey! Stop it.”

“Leave me alone, Chenle.” The thickness of your voice has every last bit of alcohol drying up from his system. He jogs to catch up to you, grabbing your wrist and whirling you around to look at him.

Your eyes are bloodshot, tears falling down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” he whispers, tugging you to his chest. “God, are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” you reply, but your body shudders in his grasp.

“Come on.” He scoffs. “I didn’t stop being your best friend just because we’re sleeping together.”

You put your palm on your forehead, cursing under your breath. “I just kissed you in there. In front of everyone.”

“Yeah.” Chenle shrugs. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It was supposed to be simple,” you murmur, tugging on your hair with your fingers. “We were supposed to have fun this summer, and everything’s fucking falling apart—”

He recoils. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re gonna leave me.” Your voice breaks, and his heart right along with it.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“It’s all just—” you cut yourself off, clutching Chenle’s shirt. “Too much. I want you so fucking bad all the time.”

“Me too, baby, you know that.” He cups your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, I’ll always be right next to you. Promise, Sunshine.”

His own eyes well at the sight, but he wonders what really brought all of this on. He presses his lips to your forehead, allowing them to linger there a moment too long. Pulling you close, his gaze turns toward the building, where Jaemin and Heewon stand. He gives them the best, watery glare he can, and they quickly shuffle back inside.

It’ll never be him who leaves you. If anyone were going to run away, it will absolutely be you.

And that crushes his heart even further. Beats it to a tiny pulp and straight up purees it until it’s mush.

He takes you home, puts you in bed, and spends half the night out on his patio, leaning on the wooden railing and watching the waves crash into the midnight shore.

The view from here gives him a glimpse of the driveway, and the rest of the group pulls in not even an hour later. He makes eye contact with Jaemin, and while the others head inside, Jaemin approaches him with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” Jaemin says softly. “You got a few minutes?”

Chenle looks inside at your sleeping form and gently closes the door with a sigh. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

“Look, man, we all get it.” Jaemin’s feet thud quietly on the creaky stairs as he makes his way up, stopping and leaning his back against the railing as he analyzes Chenle. “We love you guys. A lot. And something weird has been going on, and it’s not like we don’t notice.”

“A lot of weird has been going on,” Chenle says, chuckling to himself. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. It’s just us now.”

The other man purses his lips, taking a deep breath of salty air. “You love her, don’t you?”

“I wish it were as simple as that.” He clasps his hands together, wondering how much he should say.

“It can be,” Jaemin replies. “You think she doesn’t love you?”

“I know she doesn’t,” he insists. “You don’t know her like I do.”

His friend nods, as if he’s conceding with what Chenle’s saying. But he knows better—Jaemin is good at these things. Regardless of whatever happened a few nights back, Jaemin is insightful when it comes to relationships despite not having much experience in that department.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, okay? But I know something is. And I notice (Y/N) talking to Chae a lot, but you never talk to anyone about serious things except for her. It’s okay to be confused and to want to talk about things.”

“She didn’t want anyone to know.” Chenle lets out a defeated sigh, allowing his head to hang between his shoulders.

“To know what?”

“We…” Chenle considers biting his tongue. At the end of the day, he knows he can trust Jaemin, and that he’d never do anything to betray Chenle’s trust, but the words leaving his mouth feel like a betrayal to you. “We’ve been hooking up, I guess.”

“Oh, like…more than once.” Jaemin blinks his shock away.

“Yeah. Like, the whole summer so far.” He runs his hands down his face. “We’d never done anything before, and I honestly didn’t think it would be a possibility. And then we did. And it was fast and not at all what I wanted it to be and just—sorry, Jaem.”

“No, no.” He gestures for him to continue. “Let it out. It’s good for you to process these things.”

“I thought I really fucked up by doing that, you know? She didn’t stay in my room with me that night, she didn’t even talk to me until the next day. Which maybe doesn’t seem bad, but it is for us. But then she said she wanted to do it again, and I…well, I obviously didn’t say no. Maybe I should have.” He picks at his nails, fighting hard with the lump lodged in his throat.

“Honestly, I’m having trouble figuring out why you won’t tell her how you feel.”

“If I tell her and lose her because of it, I genuinely don’t know how I’d live without her. She’s been in my life forever, Jaem. It’s not her fault I can’t keep myself in check,” he says.

“If she doesn’t realize you’re in love with her, she’s really fucking dense.” Jaemin chuckles to himself. “And you’re equally as dense for thinking that she doesn’t love you.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it is.”

“How?”

“Chenle, you’ve spent every day with her this summer. And I’m not going to pretend to know your business, but I’m sure all the alone time you’ve had hasn’t been innocent. Nobody in their right mind starts sleeping with their best friend without at least a little bit of a worry that they’ll fall in love. Come on, you two are practically dating already anyway.”

“It’s hard, okay?” Chenle brushes the other man off. “We said we’d talk about it at the end of the summer, so I’m gonna save my heart for a few more days.”

“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” Jaemin taps the railing once more before he starts his descent down the stairs. “You won’t get what you want if you’re sitting around and watching it pass you by.”

Day 26 | June 26th

He told himself he would hold off on any more physical stuff before he was able to talk to you about what happened last night, but that was…apparently…short lived. Your chest presses against his, both of you on your sides as he gently massages your ass. You made it a point this morning to grind back against him until he was hard and aching. He’s not entirely sure how he’s avoided exactly this for so long.

He pulls your leg up on his waist, stretching you as he rubs his cock against your folds. You moan into his mouth as your slickness coats him, signaling to him that you’re more than ready to take everything he has to offer.

After a few moments of shifting, his tip enters you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he thrusts the head of his cock in and out. Chills already break out along his body, his palms sweaty as he teases you.

“Please,” you whimper. “I need more.”

“Greedy girl,” he scolds you, slowly pushing all the way in. “Pretty baby just wants to be full, huh?”

“Only you,” you mumble, nearly incoherently as you try to rock your hips. “Only greedy for you.”

Under normal circumstances, he’d care about the sound of the bed squeaking, or the way the headboard taps the wall with each of his thrusts, but all he’s thinking about is fucking good this position allows him to feel you.

After fucking you raw, the condom almost hinders the feeling of you clenching around him, but he tries to focus on giving you as much pleasure as he can.

“C’mon, tell me what you want.” Chenle bucks his hips hard, making you whine.

“Touch me. Wanna cum.” Your head lolls forward, forehead smacking into his chest.

“Touch you where, baby?” He pushes you further. “You’re already soaking my cock, what else could you need?”

“Lele, please—”

“I’ll stop,” he warns you. “Neither of us will finish if you don’t use your words.”

Dazed, you let out a frustrated moan, and he smirks at you.

“M-my clit,” you whisper. “Please touch me there.”

Your arousal squelches around him with each of his thrusts, and you squirm as you yearn for your orgasm that’s just out of reach. He considers teasing you more, but you look so fucking good like this, walls pulsing and begging for release, he can’t deny you.

His hand snakes down your body, and he kisses your jawline. “Don’t cum ‘til I say you can, okay? I’d hate to punish you when you’ve done so well so far.”

“If y—fuck.” You cut yourself off when his finger comes in contact with your swollen, aching bud, and your nails scratch down his back. He knows you won’t be able to hold back if he touches you in the right way.

“You gotta wait for me, baby, I’m almost there.” He thrusts harder, the creak of the bed becoming more prominent as he continues barely rubbing your clit.

“Lele.” You clench your eyes shut. “I c-can’t, oh my God.”

“But you’re so good.” He slams his hips against yours. “So fucking good, just a little longer.”

Your entire body shakes. He didn’t think he’d ever find something like this so arousing, but when you look at him and your eyes are welled with tears from your need, he curses, thrusts one more time, and cums hard into the condom when he’s buried deep inside you.

He can’t remember the last time he came this much, and he wishes he didn’t have this stupid fucking piece of rubber on. The idea of painting your insides white has him thrusting through his overstimulation to bring you to your peak.

He applies more pressure to your clit, pinching it, rubbing it until you bite down on his shoulder hard as your walls and body convulse in his grasp. Cursing at the jolt of pain he feels, he moans when he realizes how it adds to his pleasure.

“Holy shit,” he whispers as you let go of him.

“Asshole.” You laugh, attempting to catch your breath.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, scratching up and down your back. “It felt like you liked it.”

“Yeah, I hope that bite mark scars permanently.”

“Laying claim on me, are you?”

Oh, how he wishes you would.

Day 28 | June 28th

Today is arguably Chenle’s favorite day of the summer. Ironic, since it’s the second to last full day he has with all of his friends, but the tradition set is what makes him think this way.

A bonfire crackles in front of him, his arm over your shoulder as everyone stands around the climbing orange flame. The goal is each person writes all of their regrets down from the past year, and what they hope to accomplish over the next, and then they burn it. It’s an odd positivity ritual that none of them have ever skipped.

Chenle wrote his down the night before after you fell asleep.

Regrets:

I regret not telling (Y/N) I love her. Again.

I regret not seizing every opportunity that presents itself to me.

I regret wasting my life away while everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of my eyes.

I regret shutting down and allowing my friends to help me.

I regret not advancing in my chosen career path.

Hopes:

I hope I will be able to express myself thoroughly.

I hope I will be able to tell (Y/N) my feelings.

I hope those feelings will be reciprocated.

I hope, above all, that she’s happy.

He glances around, taking a look at everyone around him. Jaemin, Jeno, Heewon, Donghyuck, Mark, Chaeyoung, and even you. Each person has had such a fundamental hand in the making of the person he is today, and a lot of times, he takes that for granted.

“Okay, who wants to go first?” Mark asks.

“I will,” you say, stepping up.

Chenle watches you with adoration, wishing he could move forward with you, but knowing there are some times where you have to shine on your own.

“Another year.” You clear your throat. “All of you mean the world to me. You helped me when I was twelve and in desperate need of a confidence boost, and you help me now at twenty-three when sometimes all I need is a drink and a cookie.”

A chorus of laughter falls from everyone.

“Mark, thank you for all of the midday pep-talks and reality checks. Jeno, thank you for being the comedic relief right when I always need it. Jaemin, thank you for always knowing what to say, no matter the situation. Chae, thank you for saving me from myself more times than I can count. Hyuck, thank you for knowing exactly when I want ice cream and a rant session. Heewon, thank you for never judging me despite my shit decisions.”

You turn back to Chenle, the gleam in your eye reflecting the billions of stars from the sky above.

“Chenle, thank you for never underestimating me and for knowing me better than I know myself. For all of the years we’ve had, and all the ones we will have.”

“You’ve got all of mine,” Chenle says to you.

With a final grin, you take your folded up piece of paper out of your pocket and toss it into the fire, and everyone watches as it burns to ash. Once you’re satisfied, you move back to Chenle and hug him tightly.

He deflates in your grasp, cradling the back of your head and relishing in the weight of your words.

Mark goes next, then Hyuck, Chae, Heewon, Jaemin, and Jeno, leaving Chenle to be the last one. He purses his lips, twirling his own note in his fingers as he glances over his shoulder at you.

It takes him a while to think of what he wants to say despite the fact he’s been looking forward to this since the vacation started. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the smokiness of the air mixed with ocean salt, and really, truly thinks of how he’s made it as far as he has.

“Well, guys, another year down.” He shakes his head as he thinks of how fast time passes. “Life wouldn’t be the same without you guys. We get busy throughout the year, but I’m really happy we get to spend this time here and that we’re able to be together this entire month. Everyone has their unique roles in this friend group, and it’d be incredibly off if any one of us weren’t here. So, my thank you is for all of you, for being there for me and making this little bunch into a family. ‘Cause that’s what you guys are. You’re my family.”

He glances back at you much like you had done to him, and he’s met with your dazzling smile. His nerves calm at the sight, and he chews the inside of his cheek as he tosses his paper into the flame.

It’s like he physically feels the hurt, regret, and carelessness from the past year lift off his shoulders, intertwine with the smoke, and disappear. He feels lighter, like he can take on the world. And in this moment, when he sees you staring at him with such adoration, he knows that now is the moment.

No time will ever be the right time, and he’ll never have courage if he doesn’t push himself.

He walks back to you, hands in his pockets. “(Y/N), can I talk to you over there for a minute?”

You nod, and as he guides you a safe distance away, he meets Jaemin’s gaze. The grin of approval is all he needs, and the other man makes sure the friend group is paying attention to him instead of you and Chenle.

“What’s up?” you ask, tilting your head. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He pauses and reaches over to grab your hand. “I just…One of my regrets last year was not having courage, and not being able to ask for the things I want because I wasn’t…ready for them, I guess.”

You nod, urging him to continue.

“You’re my best friend. All of this stuff we’ve been through this summer, I need you to know that’ll never change no matter what. If I didn’t have you in my life, I think I’d be screwed.” He chuckles, the nerves gnawing away at his throat and making his voice shake. “This has been the best month of my life, honestly, but I shouldn’t have gone into something like this without being completely transparent.”

To that, you frown, but wait for him to continue.

He takes a moment to work up the strength to tell you, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His hands shake, and he feels faint, but he knows it’s now or never. He can’t let you leave this place for another year without knowing the truth.

“I…I’m in love with you. And I have been for so long, but I didn’t want to ruin this. When all of this started, I wanted to tell you no because I thought I’d end up getting hurt because of it all. And maybe I still will, but at least now you’ll know the truth.”

He’s not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t you starting to laugh. His gaze darts back up to yours, and your head is in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “If that’s not what you wanted, we can still be—”

“Zhong Chenle, you are far too dense for your own good.” You beam at him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss.

He’s in shock at first, but after a second, he’s pulling you as close to him as possible. You swallow his sigh of relief, and when he moves back, he sees the tear streaks down your face.

“Hey, none of that,” he whispers, wiping them away.

“I love you, Chenle,” you tell him. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so fucking long—”

You cut yourself off by connecting your lips to his again, giggles interrupting you every so often.

The rest of the group cheers and yells by the fire, clearly not one of them surprised by this outcome. He leads you back to them, fingers interlocked tightly and a permanent smile etched on his face.

For the rest of the night, he doesn’t let you go. He holds you close, kisses you all over your face, and squeezes you.

He loves you.

He’s in love with you, and you’re not going anywhere.

If this is the cruelest summer he ever has to endure, he’s more than ready for the rest of them.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct imagines #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #chenle smut #chenle fluff #chenle angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #chenle x reader #chenle imagine #chenle imagines

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aventurinemybeloved · 29 days

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Summary: Aventurine wouldn't mind being your personal mannequin forever if it meant having you this close to him

Fem!reader who's a popular fashion designer all throughout the universe, currently just "friends" with aventurine here, more like sugar daddy tho- very self indulgent because I have my oc in mind while writing this lol

"Not that I'm questioning your process when it comes to your craft, but aren't you tired?"

"Hm nope, not at all are you?"

"I've handled far worse than just standing for a few hours, don't mind me friend, continue"

While that wasn't exactly a lie, it has been a couple of hours since Aventurine was made to be a makeshift mannequin for you, this was supposed to be a day to relax and take both your mind off work.

But it seems that inspiration has struck the minute you laid eyes on a particular fabric store that just got a new stock on a handful of interesting designs, without a second thought you rushed in, your companion had looked away for one second and the next he sees that you've already made yourself comfortable shuffling through the many options to choose from.

As he made his way back to your side, the faint sound of you mumbling under your breath could be heard clearer and clearer, while he didn't quite catch all of it, he was able to piece some things, one of which you wishing you had your mannequin back at the boutique right about now.

"Hey, why not use me for a bit?"

While Aventurine obviously isn't a mannequin, he can sure act like one if you need it, and that you did so you agreed without putting much thought into it, making a mental note to make him a little something as thanks.

And now here you two were, in the middle of the store as you try to pin fabric with your hands on Aventurine's body, he expected this to happen after all he's not the type to willingly volunteer for something without it benefiting him in some way, but he was not prepared for how close you'd be.

Practically an inch away from him, chest against his as you maneuver the fabric in your hands all over him trying to come up with a design in mind, his nose catching a whiff of your shampoo as the top of your head was practically in his face, he's mastered the art of keeping a poker face but a couple hours of this, no one can blame the man for cracking as time goes on.

Luckily for him it seems you've finally finished whatever it was you were doing, he can't even remember even though you were talking about it earlier, his mind growing muddled with serotonin.

He managed to snap out of it as you call over a worker to place an order for your chosen items, and of course pay for it, Aventurine beat you to it though handing his card while softly smiling.

"It's on me"

"What? Aventurine I can pay for it myself, there's really no need to-"

"I insist, it's a treat for how much I enjoyed being your little helper"

Just as you were about to contradict him, insisting even more that you should be the one paying since he already helped you, the worker has already swiped his card handing it back to him and walked off to prepare your order.

You could only facepalm, this wasn't the first time that he has thwarted your attempts at paying for your own things, he's done it so many times you've lost count, and while it's a fact that all of it combined wouldn't make a dent in his wallet, you still couldn't hell but feel guilty.

Not for long though as you could feel a hand gently patting your head, peaking up at him you could see a soft smile on his face.

"You know the deal~" he said in a singsong way

You playfully rolled your eyes

"Yeah yeah, Just let me know when you're free and we'll hang out again"

It was weird to you at first how that was the only thing he wanted after spending so much on you, but overtime you've sorta started to understand it, and want it as much as he does as well.

#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #belle writes

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hangmanssunnies · 1 year

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Double Tap

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary: You were hesitant when your friends told you about their other friend who needed a roommate. Living with a man, let alone a Naval aviator, isn't your ideal living situation. However, you are desperate to get out of your current house. So, you will have to suck it up and make a deal with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Now you just wish he would stop doing things that make you fall in love with him.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 19k

AO3 LINK

Warnings: Abuse (Implied and mentioned), confrontation with Abuser, Child abuse (mentioned), Slow burn, Implied calorie counting, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, taxes, Neurodivergent coded! Hangman, Fiscally responsible!Hangman, Protective!Hangman. Please let me know if I missed any for this part, I know it is a long one.

Authors Note: This got so completely out of hand. It started as one scene and then grew a mind of its own. Part two is written, just not edited, I'm planning on having that done later this week. Hangman Coyote BFF supremacy. I apologize for writing the most hyper-specific!Jake you have probably ever read. 85% of his personality is just things I find attractive in men.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had been at your friend Marlee's house for almost an hour before she couldn't stop herself from confronting you. She had at least let you get settled and offered you a drink while pretending to be distracted by the lasagna she was making. She had spun towards you expectantly when it was in the oven, having reached her limit on waiting.

"What happened?" Marlee asks.

"It's nothing." You respond.

"It is something. I don't want to reread your texts back to you, babes."

"Marls," you sigh, briefly closing your eyes, trying to fight the exhaustion you feel.

"You can't live there anymore. We need to get you out."

"Yeah, let me just move and find a place to live. It's not that easy, Marlee."

She sighs heavily. "I know, babes, but at least stay here with Javy and me. If he touches you like that again."

"It was just a one-time thing," you quickly cut her off. But, from the pitying look in her eyes, she knows it hasn't been just this one time.

"If something happened."

"Nothing is going to happen." Marlee was too bright and too good of a friend. She knew something had already happened, and she knew things had been happening. Her frown and eyebrow raise say it all.

"I can't just crash here," you say.

"You are always, always welcome."

"You are," a voice pops up, and you both look over to the couch. You thought Marlee's husband, Javy, was thoroughly invested in the game he was playing on his Xbox, but it turns out he had an ear on your conversation.

It wasn't something that bothered you. You loved Javy, he had been an excellent partner to Marlee, and you considered him a friend. He was fun and easygoing, something you hadn't expected from a Navy man. You also weren't bothered because everyone knew they were the type of couple that told each other absolutely everything. So, Javy would have found out one way or another.

"I know that. Thanks, you two." You tell them, trying to get them off your back.

"Marlee is right. We can't have anything happening to you."

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Javy," you say, now trying to reassure them and stop this unnecessary worrying.

"You know. I have a friend who has actually been looking for a roommate." Javy says.

"You do?" you ask, surprised you hadn't heard about this sooner.

"Yeah, I mean, he can be a lot. But he is a good guy and a great roommate."

"Who ?" Marlee cuts in.

"Jake."

"Hangman?"

"Yeah, Hangman." The two of them stare at each other, and you can see that they are having one of those conversations of glances and small expressions you weren't entirely privy to understanding.

Marlee then shrugs, nodding, and looks back at you, "It would be a nice safe place."

"I mean, it's an option and would be a nicer place to stay than anything else you'll find. Plus, someone who is not a total stranger as a roommate." Javy tells you. He pulls off his headset and makes his way to the kitchen. He sets his hand on your shoulder and gives you a kind smile.

"I'm not sure about living with a man."

"If you don't want to live with Jake or you aren't interested, we will find somewhere else. Or you stay here with us, but you can't stay there anymore." The seriousness behind Javy's smile isn't lost on you. So you start to slowly nod.

"I guess I could at least chat with your friend if y'all think it's a decent option."

"Yeah, for sure," Javy said with a grin. "I'll ask him about it, then maybe y'all can meet this weekend. We are still having a big bonfire on the beach. I'm sure he will be there."

"Oh, I wasn't planning on going to the bonfire." You start to say, which makes both Javy and Marlee frown.

"Why aren't you coming to the bonfire?"

You tried to think of a valid excuse beyond that being in open public spaces was terrifying to you right now. An excuse past the fact that you knew your bruises wouldn't be gone by Saturday.

"I've just been stressed about finding a place to live, you know." You gave them both a weak smile, but neither of your friends seemed appeased.

"Well, now you have a reason to come," Marlee says.

"Yeah, exactly, and I'll talk to Jake." Javy presses a kiss to your forehead and then a lingering one to Marlee's lips. He returns to the couch, but not before looking at you seriously. "You know if you ever need anything, you call us?"

"Sir, yes sir," you tell him with a laugh, making Marlee giggle too.

Even with Javy's reassurances, you are unsure about this whole idea. However, whoever this friend Jake is, you know he had to be better than your current living situation. After dinner, Marlee and Javy both reiterate their feelings on the whole issue before you leave their house. You did your best to wave them off and tell them you would see them in a few days.

When Saturday rolls around, you head to the pin Marlee sent you for the bonfire. You are thankful it is a cooler day and will only be colder once the sun sets. It allows you to not look so out of place in your conservative clothes, ensuring all your bruises are covered.

You arrive purposefully late and park far from the beach. By the time you make it to the group of people, you have sufficiently hyped yourself up to interact with the others. You decide to ease yourself into the party. You walk around the different coolers, opening them and investigating the available drink options.

You are in the middle of shuffling through one when you hear a voice behind you.

"Anything specific I can help you find, sweetheart?" You turn around and are met with one of the most attractive men you have ever met. He is tall, with dirty blonde hair and a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose.

"I'm just browsing," You tell the man with a shrug, proud of yourself for being able to put together a sentence.

"I think I know what would be perfect for you, sweetheart.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," He says, flashing you a grin. His smile makes something in your stomach swoop a tiny bit.

"And, what would that be?" you say, raising an eyebrow.

"Me, of course."

You can't help the shocked laugh that falls out of your throat. Which just makes his handsome smile widen.

"I was thinking something a bit stronger, actually."

"I know I look like a tall glass of water but let me tell you, I won't disappoint you."

"Well, looks certainly can be deceptive."

"That's true. Are you really as sweet as you look?"

Before you can answer, you hear Javy's voice to your right. "Oh good, you two already met."

You turn your head to see Javy jogging over. He stops next to you with a smile on his face. You process his words and feel your stomach drop. The incredibly handsome man you were trying to flirt with was Javy's friend. Javy's friend he thought you could live with.

"There haven't been any formal introductions," you say.

"Jake Seresin," he says. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to shake it. You take his hand, give it a firm shake, and share your name. He repeated it softly, giving your hand an extra squeeze before letting go.

"Javy said you are looking to move," Jake says casually. Your voice seems stuck in your throat. You examine Jake's handsome face again and know you can't do this.

"Yeah, she is. Soon, too." Javy says after you haven't said anything leaving an awkward pause.

"I have lots of space."

"Oh well, you know." You say, trying to figure out what to say by saying nothing at all. Jake nods along with you, but his eyebrows pull close together while his eyes narrow.

"Plus, Jake is really clean," Javy adds.

"That is good to know. Maybe Jake and I can talk about it later?" You say, giving both of them a smile. You turn back to the coolers and grab the first drink you see.

"Yeah, we can talk about it later. Javy owes me a spike ball game anyways," Jake says. He flashes you another smile while grabbing a High Noon out of the cooler, gesturing for Javy to do the same. You leave them to find Marlee and chat with some other people at the party.

You are considering how to best say goodbye and leave the party while sitting next to the fire later. You stare into the flames hoping they might provide you answers.

"You would actually be doing me a huge favor by moving in, "Jake says to you casually. You are startled by his sudden presence, and you look over at him, quirking an eyebrow in response.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I haven't had a roommate for a while, and I would prefer someone who isn't in the military. I don't want to bring work and ranks home. You know?"

"Oh yeah, sure, that makes sense," you say, following his line of logic.

"Also, rent these days is," Jake doesn't finish the sentence, instead just whistling quietly.

"Yeah, rent is expensive," you laugh. You find it much easier to talk to Jake if you don't have to look directly out at him.

"You don't have to let me know right now, but I don't have any issues with it."

"We haven't talked about it much," you tell him, surprised he had decided so quickly.

"There is this saying that beggars can't be choosers."

"I would want a roommate contract. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that would be fine by me, Sugar."

"Okay, cool, but we should think about it."

"Tonight is a party, and we are supposed to be having fun. Not doing business. So, why don't you text me, and we will hash out the details this week. Plus you can see the place, which you would probably want. Maybe you could move in next weekend if we can work it all out?"

Part of you thought you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, so you decided to text Jake throughout the week to hash out the details. And the next thing you know, Javy, Marlee, and Jake are helping you move your stuff.

Living with Jake wasn't as hard as you worried it would be. In fact, it was much easier than you were anticipating. Jake led his life with strict regiment and routine. It was something that stretched beyond that he was in the military.

Jake would wake up in the mornings and go on a run before coming home, making breakfast, showering, and going to work. Then he would come home, change and go to the gym, come home, shower again because he needed to, and then eat dinner. Every night if you were home while he was cooking, Jake would always offer you some. That leads you to find out he is a phenomenal chef.

Then Jake would read in the large armchair in the living room and half-watch whatever you put on the TV to watch yourself. He only requested to use the TV when one of his sports teams was playing or on Wednesday nights, where he would spend an hour and a half playing Animal Crossing with his niece while they facetime.

You had told Jake that the TV was his, and he didn't have to ask you to use it. Jake just laughed and shrugged before telling you he wasn't the biggest TV guy. Jake had been telling the truth when he said that. You realized that Jake was more interested in his books. If he wasn't reading a book, he sat silently with one of his sudoku puzzles and country music playing on vinyl. Then Jake would go to bed after whatever chores he deemed he should do.

It was a strictly followed pattern, only differing on Fridays when he would sometimes go out to a bar with the guys or sometimes Saturdays. However, even on the weekends, he would follow the schedule closely. Regardless if he had gone to the bar, he would still wake up outrageously early in the morning, work out, do chores, and then go to the gym again. Sometimes Jake would venture out of the house to see his friends, but more often than not, he was reading or in the workshop in the garage with some project.

Marlee had not prepared you for how amazingly hot Jake was. When you moved in, he had been very polite, if a bit curt. Never venturing to flirt with you again like when you first met. As the weeks living with Jake passed, though, he definitely warmed up to you. But still never pushed the roommate line between you.

You worked hard to push your attraction for Jake to the side or shove it into a safe in the back of your mind. That was a challenging task to accomplish because, just like Javy said, Jake was very clean. It wasn't that he was a clean freak per se, but he was definitely an orderly and well-kept person. Everything in the house had a place it belonged.

Jake always did his dishes and tidied up after himself in your common areas. He also never leaves any of his laundry waiting around. You had watched in a mix of awe and horror the first time he pulled out clothes from the dryer within five minutes of the machine going off. Then Jake started folding, halfway through the laundry, stoping to pull out an iron and ironing board.

The sight was all so attractive that you had to excuse yourself upstairs. That was something that you often had to do. Anytime you felt heat build in you towards your roommate, you would quickly excuse yourself. You knew giving into your attraction for Jake in any shape or form would not lead anywhere good. You needed a place to live, and this place you had with Jake was way too good to risk anything.

Given his career choice, it was not entirely surprising how regimented Jake is. However, what did surprise you was when he started to incorporate you into his routines in small ways. Jake would automatically set out an extra plate for you when cooking, and picks up snacks you like from the store. One day you come home and find a second shoe rack by the door just for you. On the days you had to be up for work, you would find that Jake had already put your morning drink together for you when he returned from the gym and was making his own breakfast. You like the steady rhythm and consistency that living with Hangman provides you. It's seamless and easy to fall into step with him.

You had been living with Jake for a few months, and things were going really well, almost too well you sometimes felt like it was too good to be true. Your nightmares weren't as frequent. You get full nights sleep and feel comfortable here with Jake. The only times you don't feel content are the times that you think about how hot Jake is. Or when Jake does something that makes it hard not to try and smash your lips against his in a heated, passionate kiss.

Then one day, you get home from work, and worry suddenly sweeps over you as you glance at your phone and realize what time it is. The house is completely dark and quiet. Jake should have been home several hours ago and on his way to the gym already. In fact, right about now was when he should have been getting home from the gym.

You resist the urge to call Jake and check that he is okay. You know that action would be overstepping the roommate boundaries that exist clearly between you. You tell yourself it's silly to worry all because he wasn't following the schedule you made up for him in your head. It's not like Jake had ever written down his routine and given it to you. Maybe today was a special anniversary, or maybe he had after-work plans you didn't know about.

Your worry is eased about twenty minutes later when you hear Jake's truck pull into the driveway, followed by the garage door rumbling open. You find yourself easing further into the couch, some of the tension you weren't wholly conscious of easing out of your body.

Jake comes in, and you cut your eyes over to see him still in his flight suit. He doesn't say anything to you as he unlaces and kicks off his shoes. He passes you while walking to the stairs and manages a short but gruff hello. Then, without another word, he is gone. You stare after his back in shock. Something is definitely not right with Jake.

He left his shoes sprawled on the ground by the door. It was not a sight you had ever seen in the house, not even the times Jake had stumbled home drunk and giggly. Jake always pulled off his boots, neatly tucking the laces in and then setting them up on his small shoe rack by the door.

You get up from the couch and walk over to fix his shoes, tucking in the laces. You tell yourself it is so no one will trip over them, not for any other reason. Then you hear Jake's shower turn on, and the water runs much longer than the twenty-minute showers you are used to him taking. It all feels so odd and out of place. You decide to make some pasta for dinner, convinced Jake is planning on not eating at all with how far he is off his schedule.

You are just finishing dinner when the water in his bathroom finally shuts off. Then fifteen more minutes later, Jake comes downstairs in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thread-bare Annapolis shirt. He appears to be looking around downstairs, almost a bit dazed and lost.

"I made dinner. How about you have some?" You call out to him from the kitchen. Jake follows your voice to the kitchen and looks at the food you have made and dishes up. Hesitantly he sits down at the table.

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not. I know this may shock you since you normally cook, but I can do it too."

"I've never thought that you couldn't cook." Jake quickly responds.

"I know, Jake. I'm just teasing you. Now eat up."

Jake follows orders and takes a bite of the pasta, letting out a small groan. "So good," he mumbles before taking another bite.

"Do you want the macros?" You ask him conversationally after eating in silence for a few minutes.

"Oh. No, thank you. I appreciate you making something and sharing. No need for you to put in extra work. I will be fine not tracking my macros for one meal," Jake says.

"Okay," you say and give him the kindest smile you can think of. You don't want to push him on why he isn't okay. However, you can't stop yourself from sliding the piece of paper you wrote the macros on across the table to him anyways.

Jake stares at the note card for a long moment and then looks up at you. It's not a look you have ever seen on your roommate's face before. You aren't entirely sure how to decipher the way his green sea-glass eyes are gleaming back at you. He folds the paper once before putting it in his pocket.

Jake clears his throat, and the edges of his lips quirk up. "Thank you."

"Of course, anytime, Jake," you say back. He puts away his plate a few minutes later after finishing his food. Then packs up the leftovers into some tupperware.

"I'm going to bed," Jake tells you. Jake doesn't even stop to grab the current book he is in the middle of from where it is placed next to his chair in the living room.

The moment Jake disappears up the stairs, you are frowning again, considering his behavior. It bugged you, something clearly was off, but you weren't in the position to ask him what it was. As you start to settle down for the evening, you notice that Jake had put it in the laundry basket next to the washer that morning. Seeing that you knew he originally had every intention of starting it before going to the gym that night something that never happened.

You briefly considered that maybe it isn't normal how you have memorized his routine, but also maybe that was just part of living with Jake. You didn't even think before you were throwing his laundry in the washer for him. You stay up to put the clothes in the dryer. Then you find yourself folding items and hanging some of them, not confident that you could iron them correctly. About halfway through the chore, you stop realizing just what you are doing but finish it out, imagining the look on Jake's face when he sees his laundry done. You are in too deep to back out at this point.

🏡🧩🏡

You knew it wasn't the best idea that morning when you had left to go pick up some of your remaining stuff and random mail from where you used to live. However, you didn't expect it to go as badly as it had. You were still shaking from the interaction you had when you got home. Every moment of the interaction repeats over and over in your head. You hazardously throw your keys into your little key bowl, not caring to notice Jake's there as well.

You were still trying to take calming breaths and push away the tears streaming down your face. Standing at the entrance to the living room frozen, you aren't sure if you are actually at home or back there with him.

You startle and jump, letting out a small shriek, hearing a sound in the kitchen. You turn slowly, shocked to see Jake staring at you dressed in his NWUs instead of his flight suit. You are equally surprised by the sight of him home in the middle of the day, in a uniform you rarely see him wear.

The adrenaline of being scared forces your brain into letting go of the nerves and panic you had barely been keeping in check. Tears spring freely from your eyes as you take gasping breaths. J ake sets down the knife he is holding and takes long strides across the room to quickly reach your side. His hands hover near you but don't actually touch.

"What's wrong?" Jake asks in a deep voice.

You just shake your head at him, unable to respond, instead focusing on getting air into your lungs.

"Can I touch you?" Jake asks then, and that does seem okay, so you jerkily nod your head yes.

First, his hands settle lightly on your shoulders. Once it seems like you are okay and comfortable with that. Jake goes a step further and wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You press your face into the material of his shirt. Your hands come up to bunch it slightly on his chest as you find purchase to clutch him closer.

He makes gentle shushing noises but otherwise doesn't say anything while holding you. He is so warm, and his arms feel strong around you. Jake's hold on you doesn't waiver once while you cry. Only relaxing slightly when your sniffles and crying start to level out and you let go of his shirt.

You take one more deep breath of him. Jake smells of a pleasant mix of his body wash, y'all's fabric softener, and his cologne. Letting the calming effect of the smell flood your system before letting go of your hold on him completely, only then does Jake let his arms slip away.

Pulling away from the hug, you shyly look to see Jake's face. You find that he is already looking at you. For one of the first times since you met him, you don't like how Jake's face looks. There is a soft and sad demeanor that you see in his eyes. His eyebrows crease and his lips are pressed into a flat line. You feel embarrassment and shame flood you. The way that you just broke down and cried on your roommate, fully processing in your muddled tired head.

"You're home," you eventually say, trying to break the ice and put a brave face back on.

"Yeah, I'm not flying today. So, I had the time to come home for lunch."

"Sorry to interrupt." You say, looking down to examine your feet.

"You didn't interrupt anything," Jake reassures you. He goes back to the kitchen, and you watch as he continues to cut ingredients for his salad.

"Do you want me to make you anything?" He asks.

"No, thank you. "You say not feeling even a little hungry.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jake asks next.

"No, thank you," you say again and settle at the kitchen island to watch Jake cut the veggies and toss them in a big bowl.

"Okay," he says. You like that Jake doesn't push you for things. He respects the boundaries you set and doesn't even try to toe up against them.

"Am I allowed to know why you aren't flying today? I thought someone had broken in. Plus, I hardly recognize you out of a flight suit."

"You don't like these?" Jake asks, looking at the Navy camo print he is wearing as if this uniform suddenly offended him.

"I didn't say that," you tell him, giving a small laugh. Obviously, Jake could make anything look good, even things that shouldn't.

"Can't fly every day." He says with a shrug. "Also, I'm going through some maintenance stuff and checks with my sailors."

You hum, but otherwise, don't comment watching Jake wash the knife and cutting board he had been using then. Then, after he drys them and puts them away, he turns back to you.

"There isn't anything to be embarrassed about," he tries to venture lightly.

"You don't come home and cry on me," you say, frowning.

"You sure about that one?" He asks, shoving a mouthful of salad into his mouth.

"Pretty sure that I would remember such an occasion."

Jake just hums. One of those sounds that makes you feel like he doesn't actually agree. A few bites of his food later, he sets his bowl down. His green gaze is trialed on you, but then he glances at his watch, huffing in annoyance.

There is a slight caving feeling inside you. You feel bad. How much of Jake's lunch have you taken up? You had never actually seen him come home for lunch before, so he must not get a long time.

"I do all the time. Maybe just a bit less of the wet physical crying." Jake tells you, putting a container lid on his bowl.

"You could," you utter to him, a little embarrassed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, wouldn't bother me if you ever needed to. You know. I'm here for you."

"Thank you, Darlin," Jake says. Then glances at his watch again. "I got ten minutes before I have to go. What would you like to do?"

"I'm fine," you tell him. "You should use that time to eat."

"I'll munch while I'm doing some paperwork later."

That was a lie. You knew that Jake would never eat around paperwork. However, it was the kind of lie that settles warmly. It was one of those lies born with good intentions and made to be soothing. You could never be upset that he is even trying to comfort you at his own expense.

"I don't want to talk about it, Jake." You reiterate again.

"I know, and you don't have to. I won't ask again. However, if you ever decide that you do. I'm here for you too. Always."

"Thank you, Jake. You're a really good roommate."

"I hope you can consider me a friend too?"

"Of course, we are friends too," you reassure him. Jake's lips quirk upwards, his dimples flashing upon hearing that.

"Now, I can't go back to work without seeing at least one smile."

"That's a pretty tall order."

"Well, they don't call me the best for nothing."

"Do they really call you the best or is that something you just tell people?" You ask him, mostly joking. Jake pretends to take offense, pressing his hand dramatically to his chest.

"Ma'am, you wound me," Jake says, pouting.

"I don't know. I think it is a pretty legitimate question."

"I am the best."

"And how do they determine that exactly? Who the best is."

"Well, there are a lot of ways. Many different factors to consider."

"Oh really?"

"Yup. Also sorts of stuff, but they get us all together once a year, and we have a competition."

"What kind of competition?"

"Only the elite members of the Navy participate. We all take turns sliding."

"Sliding?"

"Yup," Jake confirms, sounding one hundred percent serious. "We set up a huge slip and slide on the carrier runway. You only get three tries, and then we add them for scoring. I may have ripped off all the skin on my chest last year, but it was worth it to win."

You can't help but let out a laugh. You picture Hangman competitively sliding down a yellow tarp that doesn't have enough water on it. It's such a silly concept you aren't sure where he came up with it.

"Ahh there she is," Jake says with a broad smile.

"I never would have thought that was a skill the Navy values."

"Yes, Ma'am. It's actually the second part of the Naval academy mission," Jake tells you, still maintaining a serious tone despite his smile. Then Jake stands up straight to his full height in parade rest.

"To develop Midshipmen morally, mentally and physically and to imbue them with the highest ideals of duty, honor and loyalty in order to graduate leaders who are dedicated to a career of naval service and have potential for future development in mind and character to assume the highest responsibilities of command, citizenship and government." Jake repeats dutifully and then adds. "In addition to putting these ideals to the test by hosting the world's most competitive slip and slide competition. Weirdly, people don't talk about that second part much."

You only laugh harder, shaking your head at him. "Yeah, an absolute mystery. I can't believe that isn't common knowledge."

Jake chuckles along with you. Then you two are interrupted by a timer going off from Jake's phone. He sighs and silents it.

"I'm sorry. I've got to go, sugar. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah. I promise I'm okay. Thank you, Jake."

He bites his lip and nods at you going to put in his shoes and lace them back up. "Are you going to be home later?"

"Yeah, I'll be home."

"We could do something if you're feeling up for it. Or I can pick up takeout."

"That's sweet, Jake, but you really don't have to."

"I want to," he says with a shrug. Then checks his reflection in the mirror, making sure he is presentable to go back to work. After that, he turns back to you.

"I'll think about it." You tell him before playfully shoving him out the door so he isn't late. You try not to melt when Jake gives you another hug. You catch his hand just before he is too out of reach.

"Thank you, Jake. For making me smile."

"It's the prettiest thing I've seen all day," Jake says, squeezing your hand with his own. His words muddle your brain a little bit. You don't get to say anything else before he heads off to his truck, waving at you one more time and driving off.

You also pretend you aren't screaming on the inside when Jake comes home from work that night with your favorite food and ice cream. The night feels easy and warm, sitting and eating with Jake. The events of that morning can't cross your mind while Jake tells you all about some of the weird contraband he found in the junior sailors' barracks that day. He is no less than spellbinding.

🏡🧩🏡

Jake is sitting at the kitchen table when you get home from work. He is surrounded by neatly organized papers spread all along the table in various piles. Jake is wearing a button-down, tie, and slacks that make you do a triple-take on him.

"Welcome home," he says, glancing up from his laptop that is open in front of him. That's when you see he also has a pair of glasses on.

"Thank you," you say, slowly making your way to the kitchen but still looking at him.

"What are you working on there?" You ask.

"Oh, I'm doing my taxes," Jake says while giving you one of his winning smiles.

"Taxes?"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"I guess that makes sense," you say while looking around the kitchen for a snack.

After a few minutes of silence, you decide to ask another question. "Do you have a date later?"

You knew Jake dated. A man who looks like that has to date. However, you had yet to see him ever bring someone home, which felt odd considering everything about Jake, and the persona he liked to put on as Hangman.

"No. What makes you ask that?" Jake asks you.

"Oh. I don't know. You're dressed like you are going on a date."

"No, I'm not," he says, looking down at himself.

You laugh at him and shrug. "If you say so."

"I would never wear this on a date," Jake mutters, clearly offended.

"Well, then, why are you wearing it?"

"I'm doing taxes," he says again.

"Yeah, we have covered that. What does that have to do with your clothes?"

"I'm dressed like an accountant," Jake tells you. You can't hold back your giggles at his phrasing and bring a hand up to your mouth to try and stifle them before giving up entirely.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Two things," you say, holding up two fingers, finally biting back your giggles.

"One, the fact that you got dressed up to do your taxes. The second is that being an accountant is a euphemism for being a sex worker." Jake chuckles at your explanation but shrugs.

"Well, Mrs. Celeste said I should always dress for the day. It helps you present your best self. If you dress the part, it helps you act that part." Jake says that like a well memorized and treasured quote. A saying he clearly remembered with much fondness.

"And today is my tax day, so I am dressing like a tax professional. I will have you know. Since I started doing them myself, I have never had one problem with my taxes."

You couldn't help but chuckle more at his explanation and give him a fond smile. Sometimes the way Jake was so perfectly built and attuned for the military was endearing. Of course, a career Naval man would think a uniform was essential for each different activity.

"So, are the glasses part of your tax uniform too?"

He made a show of pushing the said glasses further up his nose. "Yes, Ma'am. They also are blue light blocking, which helps prevent migraines."

You nod along to his explanation. You finish putting together your snack and lean against the kitchen counter while munching on it. "Who is Mrs. Celeste? A teacher?"

Jake's lips flatten slightly before the expression relaxes just as quickly. "No, Mrs. Celeste is my Babula."

"Your Grandmother?" You guess.

"Yeah, sorry. My grandma, but she was strictly Mrs. Celeste growing up, only Babula occasionally."

"I don't think I've met someone who calls their grandparent by their first name."

"Well, not really her first name. You have to be respectful and throw the Miss in there with it. She is a very particular lady."

"Is it a southern thing?"

"Yeah, maybe," he says with a small laugh. The edges of his lips quirk up, and you have to look away from Jake to distract yourself. It is easy to fall into the trap of how beautiful he is, with the sparkle he can get in his eyes. Or how even the smallest of his smiles makes you want to grin back.

"So, how are the taxes?"

"Oh, it's good. I'm almost finished up."

"Awesome, congrats Jake."

"Have you done yours?" He asks you.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at the idea. "No, I definitely haven't."

"But you got your W2s in the mail last week."

"Jake, are you snooping through my mail?"

He raises both his hands up in defense. "No, I'm not! W2s just have a very particular look."

"I'm just kidding. I know you wouldn't snoop through my mail. Yeah, I got them, but I've been busy. I guess I should make a Tax Masters appointment or something."

That crease in between Jake's eyebrows appears, the one that haunts you, that you pretend you don't obsess over. Followed by a small frown.

"Tax Master?" He asks, clearly appalled. You shrug back at him, not entirely seeing the issue.

"I could do them for you," Jake says, then quickly adds on. "I mean, I can help you do them. If you have the time. I'm already dressed for it, and I won't charge you or anything."

"Oh no, Jake, that is so sweet, but I can't ask you to do that."

"No, really, I wouldn't mind. I think it would be fun. Plus, then you will have it done, and you won't have to worry about it."

"Really, thank you so much, but it's fine."

Jake's frown deepens at your answer, and he seems almost genuinely upset at your denial of his help. The warm feeling in your chest likes to flip over and grow a little bit more each time he is too sweet in moments like these.

"You know Javy warned me that you were an asshole when I was going to move in. However, you have not once lived up to that. You could stand to be less nice to me, Jake." You tell him. You mean it to come off as almost flirty and a bit of a joke. However, it doesn't seem to land with him that way.

The change that comes over Jake isn't something entirely tangible. It is almost like a shift in the air around him rather than anything physical. The way Jake looks at you just feels heavier and more charged. The confidence he always exudes seems to double with how he sits up just the smallest bit straighter but then leans back against his chair casually.

"Go get your W2s." He tells you in a perfectly level tone, but it has a demanding edge.

"Jake," you start to say and roll your eyes at him.

"Nope," Jake says, popping the p. His voice takes on a lower candace, leaving no room for arguments. "I'm not giving you a choice. We are going to do your taxes."

"No, we aren't doing my taxes."

"Yes, I am. I can't be caught not living up to my reputation. So, I'm not going to be nice and accept that you don't want to. This is one of the few situations I won't take no for an answer."

"It was just a joke."

"No, it wasn't," Jake says, giving you a small shrug. You can't tell if he is actually hurt by how he is acting, but you suspect some part of him was twinged at his best friend's description.

"It really was, Jake. Javy adores and trusts you. I'm sure he never would have suggested me moving in with you if he actually thought you were an asshole."

"I know I'm an asshole. It's fine, sugar, don't worry. I'm not going to tattle on you telling me that to Coyote."

"You aren't an ass, though. That was my whole point."

Jake just shook his head at your answer. "I am one, and I don't want that to be a surprise when you inevitably witness it."

You aren't sure how to respond to that, so you are relieved when Jake changes the topic. "Now, get your tax stuff, so it doesn't take us all night."

"Okay," you sigh, giving in to defeat. Jake gives you a mega-watt smile, and looks back at his computer screen.

As you are walking up the stairs, you hear him yell across the house. "Dress like your best accountant self!"

"I won't be doing that," you yell back.

"Please! It's important." Jake yells back.

When you are in your room getting all your stuff and paperwork pilled together. You find yourself opening your closet and pulling out an outfit that you could imagine wearing if you were an accountant.

You also spend several minutes too long wondering what would happen if you went back downstairs in the most provocative lingerie you own. After all, Jake didn't specify which type of accountant to dress up as. You wondered if it would be tempting to Jake. Could you provoke him into falling into lust with you? Tempt him enough that he took you on the dining room table on top of all the Tax paperwork? Jake has expressed attraction to women before, so there must be at least some part of him that is at least a little attracted to you.

You smash down your thirsty thoughts and try to screw your head back on straight before it can drift too much off on track. When you get back downstairs, Jake is still at the table. You dump all your stuff on an empty spot there.

Jake looks up from his computer and smiles at you, quirking an eyebrow. Then, Jake speaks to you teasingly, "And here I thought you might dress up as the other type of accountant you were telling me about."

Your brain has no choice but to start short-circuiting, and you open and close your mouth twice. Jake starts shuffling through your paperwork, looking at what you have brought him.

"I ordered us some pizza too," he says before you get out a proper response or say anything teasing back to him.

"Yum. I'm excited," you tell him sliding into a seat and opening up your own laptop.

He stops his shuffling and examination of the papers to level you with a serious look. "Thank you for indulging me, by the way."

"Anything for you, Jake," you tell him and mean it. Unfortunately, the way you feel about your roommate is rapidly spiraling out of the tight control you tried to keep it in.

"I like when we do fun things like this together," Jake says to you, grinning.

"Me too," you tell him. Then add, "Only you would find taxes fun, though, Hangman."

"I am about to show you just how fun taxes can be and how you can get a great return," Jake says, taking your words in stride.

Jake does your taxes almost entirely by himself, only asking occasional questions. He also then organizes all of your paperwork in an extra accordion binder he has. The taxes aren't fun, but spending time with Jake is.

"Thank you," you say to Jake daring to press a soft, affectionate kiss to his cheek. You linger for a moment, the prickle of his end-of-day stubble ticking your lips, but you don't mind it. When you pull back to gauge his reaction, Jake looks almost pained and upset. You worry for a moment that even just a cheek kiss could make him react this way. You briefly thank god you didn't actually try to seduce him earlier.

"Always, anytime." He finally says. However, Jake is now glaring down at his keyboard and not looking at you.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble," you venture, confused by this mood shift.

"Sugar?"

"Yes, Jake?"

"I don't think you should pay so much rent."

"What?"

"Listen," he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it all out of sorts. "I just don't think it's fair for you to pay so much."

"Of course, it's fair. I live here," you explain.

"Yeah, but no. I get BAH, and I don't have any student loans from school. Plus, the Navy pays me plenty as an officer. I was paying for this place all alone before you moved in anyways."

"I'm not going to pay less rent because you saw my financials and feel bad." You tell Jake quietly, trying not to actively become upset.

"Please don't be so stubborn," he pleads with you.

You cross your arms over your chest, "Take your own advice."

"I'm the one being stubborn?"

"Yes! You are. You are the most stubborn man I have ever met."

Jake's frown deepens, and that sad look in his eyes at your words starts to break through to you. Then he responds, "I'm sorry. I guess I'll try and work on that."

Jake starts meticulously putting things away into different folders. He moves through each of his piles on the table and doesn't spare you a second glance. It leaves a crushing feeling in your chest.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"There is no need to apologize. I'm the one who is sorry." Jake says, shrugging off your apology.

"No, you don't need to apologize. I understand why you said what you did. I know you were trying to be sweet." You start to say but are cut off.

"I wasn't trying to be sweet."

"Oh my god. Okay, fine, trying to be nice, then," you say, rolling your eyes.

Jake sets down the folder he is currently holding, and it thumps a little bit on the table. The force and loud sound make you flinch.

"I'm not sweet, nice, good, or kind. Okay? I'm not any of those things. I call things how I see them. I look at facts, figures, and numbers. Then I run calculations and act accordingly."

"And how is it mathematically possible that me paying less rent possibly works out for you, Jake? You will be losing money." As he shakes his head, he huffs at your words a little bit like they are funny.

"You could do a lot and make a lot of gains if you paid less rent, and I don't mind picking up the extra amount. You might be one of the few people I haven't hated living with. I don't want you figuring out you need to live somewhere cheaper and moving out on me. So, I'm not being nice. I'm being a selfish asshole." Jake clenches his fists hard, and you see his knuckles start to turn paler. With a deep breath, he relaxes and shrugs. Loosening the tight coil of his muscles, Jake gives you a curt tight lipped smile with a nod. "I'm just a selfish asshole, okay?"

"Please stop. Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true," he says, rolling those beautiful eyes at you.

"It's not true. Also, I would prefer if you don't use the word selfish around me, please." You say in a surprisingly steady voice. You don't really want to get triggered right now, and you could only hope that you wouldn't have to explain triggers to Jake. It takes him one moment to think and another to process before he says anything.

"Oh fuck. I'm so sorry. I won't use it again." Jake promises, no questions asked. His words blow up a balloon in your diaphragm, making it feel like your breath is about to catch. Then he adds on, "If there are any other words…" He looks around and grabs a loose pen and one of his notebooks. Jake slides them across the table to you. "Write them down. Maybe? If you can."

The warmth Jake inspires in your chest is unparalleled and drowns out anything you can think of aside from how endearing he can be and how fond you are of him. Jake doesn't take the lack of response from you well.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again. You spring from where you had been sitting, walking slowly and deliberately toward him. You make sure to give him plenty of time to protest and say something.

Jake looks steadily back at you. However, he looks like he is preparing himself to be slapped or punished, holding perfectly still. Instead, though, you wrap Jake in a tight hug. He is stiff as a board beneath you. After a long moment, as you consider pulling away, Jake relaxes and wraps his arms around you. They are wrapped loosely at first but then tighten in small intervals until Jake is practically clinging to you.

"You are so good," you whisper to him, a little dazed. You are almost stunned by how desperately Jake tries to pretend otherwise.

"Don't say that," Jake whispers in a broken voice, hugging you a bit tighter.

"Too good." You left the words for me unsaid, but you felt them.

"I'm really not."

"It's okay if you don't see it. I see it for you. I'll make sure everyone else sees, too," you tell Jake curling your hands into a fist in his shirt.

He doesn't say anything but keeps holding you tightly. You don't know how long the two of you stay embraced like that until Jake finally eases his grip on you, and you reluctantly pull away from him as well.

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Please stop paying so much in rent," he requests again.

"That will not be happening, Hangman."

"So stubborn." He sighs. Jake kisses your forehead again. He leaves his lips lingering, and you start to count the breaths memorizing how warm his lips are. Three breaths later, he is pulling away. Jake grabs his laptop and a stack of folders heading upstairs without another word to you.

You stare after him for a while, trying to parse out the mystery Jake presents, and coming up a bit short, just like you always did. He is one of the most outwardly confident men you have ever met. Yet, other times, Jake is the first person to make a self-deprecating comment about himself. You swallow down how much you desire more from him, wishing for more, knowing you can't and shouldn't have it.

🏡🧩🏡

You and Jake were lounging on the couch. He was scrolling on his phone, avoiding going to the gym, half-heartedly trying to convince you to go with him. You were also scrolling your phone while deflecting Jake’s offers.

That was when your doorbell rang, followed by heavy knocking. You and Jake both look up at each other. He raises his eyebrows, and you just shrug, having no idea who could be at the door. Jake looks back to his phone, clearly ready to ignore it, when the doorbell rings twice more, and the pounding on the door gets louder. Jake sighs and gets up, walking across the house towards the noise.

“Hold your horses out there!” Jake yells towards the door before opening it.

You wait for a moment, trying to hear who it is, curious about who would be so rude and what they needed. However, you don’t hear anything from where you are on the couch. So you stand and follow Jake into the entry hallway.

“Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave.” You hear Jake say. He is standing at his full height in the door frame.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You hear from on the other side of the door.

Nervousness shoots through your whole body hearing that voice. Anxiety immediately pops up, and your stomach drops. You know that voice. You have heard it a thousand times before. Why was he here? How was he here?

“I asked you to leave, Sir.”

“Just tell that little bitch that —”

Jake steps further forward onto the front porch. “Now, we don’t speak about ladies like that where I am from. And I’m going to ask that you act accordingly while at my home, Sir.” Jake cuts him off with that well mannered southern military niceness.

“I don’t give a fuck where you are from.”

You flinch at his tone of voice, feeling bile rise up in your throat. You lean against the wall slapping your hand over your mouth, trying to prevent yourself from throwing up.

“I asked you politely to leave. I won’t ask again. I can call you a taxi or an uber. But don’t you dare take one more step on my front porch.” Jake says in a deep tone. You are hit with the sudden, horrifying realization that he is going to hurt Jake, and that is something you just won’t let happen.

You are trying to go through possibilities in your head. Anyway, this could shake out; it would be bad for Jake. Jake would either get hurt and get in trouble, or he would kick ass and gets in worse trouble. This would end badly; either way, Jake is going to get in trouble, and it would be your fault. You would be responsible because you caused this situation. Jake was going to pay the consequences all because he was trying to protect you. You were roommates, so Jake must think he has some obligation to protect you.

You feel swamped in stress knowing how easily Jake can escalate a situation and provoke someone; sometimes, all it takes for him is one well-placed smile. That stress is finally what unfreezes you, and you stumble towards the front door.

Jake’s large, broad form still mostly hides your view of the other side, but you cautiously approach and set your hand gently on the back of his shoulder. You feel how tense Jake’s muscles are under your hand and can see it in the line of the back of his neck.

“Sugar, I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Jake says in a deep voice. He doesn’t budge an inch or look back toward you. “But I would like to suggest that you go back inside. I have this handled.”

You want to cry. You want to cry for so many reasons: cry because you are in this situation, that you have to deal with this again, that you feel so small. However, you mostly want to cry because Jake “Hangman” Seresin is such a good man. It’s startling sometimes, not because it’s really unexpected, but rather that it is so completely and bluntly genuine.

Having Jake here defending you, trying to protect you from the person who has probably scared you most in your life, it feels so silly to pretend like you don’t have feelings for him, to pretend that you aren’t more in love with him than you ought to be.

The realization doesn’t really feel shocking; it is closer to acceptance. A given truth that is part of your life now. An empowering truth that swells in your bones like a swift tide, filling up the spaces that have been empty for so long.

You love Jake more than you are scared. The warmth of affection towards him is so hot it burns out the freezing ice in your veins and the numbness in your fingers. You love him, and you will be damned if you let Jake be hurt, touched, tainted, or affected by this man who has hurt you. It seems cliché that loving someone like this is enough for you to finally break through the barrier of fear you have lived your whole life in. However, now it just feels so simple.

Your heart is beating hard. The adrenaline is pumping through you so strongly that you can hear it echoing in your ears. Your hand slides up Jake’s back to his bicep, and you give him a gentle push. Jake shifts with the movement. He slides to the right so you can finally fully see the front porch. However, he doesn’t move enough that you are fully exposed. Jake’s body is still partially concealing you from view.

Then you hear your name, and your attention snaps away from its hyper-focus on Jake. You turn it forward and brace yourself. You drift your eyes to the ground, landing on the feet of your visitor, staying there for a minute before meeting his burning eyes.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Ah, so she is here,” your father says, throwing his hands up and glaring at Jake. You can smell the booze on him from the doorway. It makes your stomach turn. You resist the urge to wretch, squeezing your hand, which is still on Jake’s bicep. He flexes, and his bicep digs into his shirt as your nails also dig in. You don’t like those angry, hateful eyes on your Jake. Jake doesn’t budge an inch or react to your nails on his skin.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” You ask him. Your hold on Jake acting like an anchor point for you.

“You don’t bother to answer my texts or anyone else’s calls and texts. Just because you moved out doesn’t mean you get to be a selfish bitch” your dad spits out.

“I’ve been pretty busy,” you defend yourself in a small voice.

“Oh, I bet you have been so busy. What are you doing these days?” He growls at you. “You know it doesn’t really count as moving out if you are spreading your legs to pay for it.”

You flinch, your hand falling from Jake’s arm and balling into a tight fist at your side. You hate how easily he can make you feel small, even when you are angry.

“Watch your mouth,” Jake hisses, rejoining the conversation. You glance at him, and Hangman is shaking with contained rage. You know this is not a good situation; anytime, someone could blow up.

“You should go inside, Hangman,” you tell him gently.

“Absolutely not,” Jake responds instantly.

“So you are playing the part of a pathetic little whore wife for this pretty boy.” Your dad says, cutting in.

You grit your teeth as he continues on. “Come on. I thought you gave up pussies after our talk when you were in high school.”

With the reminder of just what he is referring to, You are overcome with anger, and you finally can’t take it anymore. You recognize his words for what they are, a direct bait at Jake and undercutting you. It makes you so angry you start shaking. Tears burst from your eyes, trying to let off some steam bubbling inside you. It boils up, so you can’t take it anymore, and you whisper, “Shut up.”

“What?” Your dad asks, clearly shocked. You take a step forward fueled by your anger.

“Shut the fuck up.” You pronounce each word slowly. Then continue on, “I’m tired of this. You don’t get to be mean to me and still expect a relationship with me. You don’t get to hit me, yell at me, and abuse me just to show up at my house on your bullshit. And you sure as fuck don’t get to say anything about Jake.” You suck in a rapid breath, the words fueling the fire in you. Your angerburning brighter with every word.

“You made me think that kind, decent men didn’t exist, Dad, but Jake is good. He isn’t a pretty boy. He is smart, sweet, strong, and kind. I will not hear you say one more thing about him. Ever.” You punctuate the sentence with a jab of your index finger at him. He looks like he might be cowed, and before you can even finish a prayer that he will be done, the fire in his eyes lits again.

“You could have at least found someone who stands up for you. A real man.” Your dad isn’t even looking at you when he says it. Instead, he is staring at Jake.

“That’s a rather rude thing to say about an active duty Naval Officer,” you hiss. Your dad takes a step back, his eyebrows raising, reexamining Jake. He shifts his weight between his feet nervously.

“You aren’t welcome at our home. So leave and crawl back into the bottle you drank before coming here. Don’t come back, Dad. I don’t want to see you.”

You try to force your body to relax, but the adrenaline is still pumping hard in your veins. So, you start to walk backward back into the house. Jake still hasn’t taken his eyes off your dad, and he makes no move to come with you back into the house.

“Jake?” You ask.

“Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I need to have a talk with your old man here and make sure that he makes it home.”

“I don’t want him near you.”

Your dad still looks blown away by this turn of events. Like he is scrambling to put words together. He keeps looking back and forth between you and Jake.

Jake breathes out heavily through his nose. He turns his head enough to glance at you. Whatever he sees on your face must break his resolve. Jake clenches his jaw, and you watch the muscle flex once, then twice. After that, he rolls his shoulders, and it’s like Hangman is physically able to just shrug the tension of the situation off.

“Get home safe, Sir. I suggest doing so soon. MAs are known to drive down our street.” Jake says it in a light, easygoing tone, border lining on cheery. Then, plastering that practiced, perfect smile on his face, Jake nods his head toward your dad and comes back into the house.

Jake closes the door but doesn’t move, staring out the frosted window on the front door. His body is tense again, standing rigidly at his full height. You are still shaking from anger. You slump against Jake’s back, letting your body weight shift into his. One of his arms bends backward a bit awkwardly, sitting on your waist. His large palm is burning hot. You can feel it through the fabric of your clothes. Then Jake’s fingers flex to give you a small squeeze of reassurance.

When Jake finally does move, it is just to turn away from the door and wrap you tightly in his arms. You enjoy the warmth of his strong embrace, feeling exhausted as the adrenaline starts to fade. Jake is still shaking, though.

“He’s gone,” Jake says into the crown of your head. You let a little sigh escape you, feeling a bit more of the tension release.

“Good,” you manage to tell him.

“I wanted to defend you. I wanted to slam his face so hard into the porch that he wouldn’t ever be able to open his mouth again. Wanted to tell him how you are—”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you cut Jake off before he can continue. You don’t want to know what he thinks about you right now. You can’t handle whatever words could spill out of his mouth next.

“I’ll make sure he never comes back here,” Jake says, his voice dropping, and you feel the rage contained in him, the subtle shake and heat coming from how tense he is.

“I don’t want him near you. If something happened to you because of him….” you trail off. Your hands wander the expanse of Jake’s back in an almost soothing motion. However, you don’t know who it is soothing more, you or him. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

He takes a deep breath and then releases it in a heavy sigh. “What if you just give me his full name and social security number? You wouldn’t have to know about anything else.”

“Jake,” you whisper in a tone that is almost reminiscent of amusement.

Jake sighs again. He draws back from your hug and cups your face. He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away the tears that have been lingering.

“You are the kindest, most compassionate person I have ever met,” Jake whispers. Considering how he is looking at you with a glimmer in his eyes, it’s clear the emotions of the situation are still running rampant. That look, paired with how he is holding you, makes you think Jake might be about to kiss you.

“No, No. Stop.” You don’t know if you are trying to ask him not to kiss you or to stop talking. Either way, you feel like you might explode if this interaction isn’t over soon.

“Yes,” Jake says. “Let me, please.”

His thumb is still tracing along your cheek, and you can’t help yourself from leaning a tiny bit into his palm. An action that momentarily freezes his thumb before it picks up steadily again. Not hearing an explicit no from you again, Jake continues on.

“That man has no say over you. Who you are is so stunning. You never deserved to be treated the way you were. I am so sorry you ever had to go through that. I am so sorry he showed up here. You don’t owe him a single second of your time or attention. You are valuable. You are amazing. He is trying to make you small because he sees how good you are.”

A shudder racks through your body, hearing Jake’s words, and fresh tears start to fall unprompted from your eyes. As soon as they do, though, Jake pushes them away. “I am so proud of you for getting away from him. You are so strong and brave. It makes me awed. I’m so glad that you moved in here. You are…” Jake doesn’t finish the sentence, he seems to lose his train of thought. His mouth parts a little bit, and his eyes flash down to glance at your lips.

Jake is going to kiss you, and it might possibly be the worst thing that could happen. If he kisses you right now because of your dad, you know you might break into a million different pieces. You don’t want Jake to kiss you for any reason but pure desire and affection. You don’t want him to kiss you in comfort, or pity, or convenience, or as an outlet. You don’t want him to kiss you just because emotions are running high from the incident that just happened. Most of all, you don’t want Jake to kiss you and not mean it. You don’t want him to kiss you without the intention of kissing you again.

So, even though you are desperate to feel his lips, and memorize their shape, how they feel against yours. Desperate to discover what he tastes like, curl your fingers in his hair and take comfort in the form of his body. You know you can’t, it has the power to break you, and you already feel so broken and exhausted.

You cover the hand Jake has on your face with your own and pull it away. However, you don’t immediately let go holding his large palm. Hangman takes your hint and steps backward, giving you a little space so that he is pressed against the door again. You decide to thread your fingers with his. Jake’s skin is still almost hot to the touch in your hand.

“Thank you, Jake,” You finally say, meeting his piercing green eyes again. You squeeze the hand you are holding. He gives you a tight nod and then tips his head upwards, so he is looking at the ceiling. Jake rests his head against the door as well and closes his eyes.

You observe him for a moment, then you go to release the hand you are holding. Jake stops you, though, his hand tightening as yours loosens, and you try to pull away. You give a little tug, and he tightens his fingers even more. Jake’s head is still tipped, and you hear him sucking in a deep breath before blowing it out.

“Please don’t let go,” he begs you. Jake’s eyes flash open again, and he is looking down his nose at you. “I just, I need you.”

You inhale sharply at his phrasing, and he sighs heavily. “I might do something terrible if you let go of me. If you don’t need me here, there won’t be anything to stop me.”

“You’re not going to do anything terrible,” You say, retangling your fingers with his. Jake’s hand flexes in yours, and he takes another big breath.

“I’ll make sure he loses our address and forgets it too. Make sure he doesn’t remember anything at all anymore. I’ll—”

“You’ll stay right here, Jake.”

He lifts his head so it isn’t tilted against the door anymore and stares down at you. He looks like he is holding on to every word you are saying to keep his sanity. His skin is flushed from anger, and his palm shakes slightly in yours. You were in awe he was able to hold back this reaction so long, remaining calm and collected throughout the entire encounter.

“You will stay here with me, Jake. I need you.”

“Yeah?” He asks shakily.

“Yeah. Need your help, Jake.”

There is a low rumble in his chest, almost resembling the hum it was probably supposed to be. You step closer to Jake, once again closing the gap between you.

“Tell me what you need.” It comes out as a demand, and he seems to realize that when he adds on a small quick “Please.”

You look at him then, trying to read his face and those eyes that haunt your dreams. You examine the creases and lines his face makes with the severe angry look he has plastered on. You take the time to observe how his hair is hazardously falling out of place for how many times he has run his hand through it. You don’t really find any of the answers you are looking for. You just find Jake. And Jake is an oh-so-wondrous thing to find.

You step closer to him and tug the hold he has on your hand again. His nose scrunches for a moment, and his frown tightens. His eyes lift upwards towards the ceiling again as his jaw clenches; he lets go of your hand. Jake’s hand falls heavily back until it hits the door making a smacking sound. You flinch at the sound but take another step forward, crowding Jake against the door. You lift your hand up to trace over his neck and then settle on his face, encouraging him to adjust his gaze back to you. He follows direction and leans into your hold, just like you leaned into his earlier.

“Need you to stay with me,” you start slowly, encouraged as Jake nods his head in a small jerk.

“I need you to leave the front door.”

He considers your words for a moment, then shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I’m sorry, sugar. I need to protect you.”

“There is no one in the world I feel safer with than you, Jake.” He squeezes his eyes tightly closed at those words and pulls in a ragged breath. “So, you can’t leave me alone here.”

He nods again but still has his eyes closed. “Ain’t leaving. You need me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Can I hold you?” Jake asks, then once again remembers his manners throwing out another small, please.

“Yes, please,” you whisper. Jake doesn’t waste a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you snuggly against him. The change of angle causes your hand to slip from his face, so you wrap it around his neck instead, your fingers drifting against the short hairs there. You go to wrap your other arm around his waist but instead awkwardly hit the front door. You hiss out a small breath at the momentary pain.

Jake responds to the sound. He starts walking forward, making you walk backward. Walking while he is wrapped around you proves to be difficult, and you stumble a little. That seems to be all Jake needs; he wraps his arms under your ass and lifts you.

You are terrified at the concept that Jake is going to try to carry you, and you open your mouth to protest. However, with only one small grunt that honestly sounded more like pure sex with how low and husky it is, Jake is carrying you down the hallway. You wrap your arm around his neck more securely, adding a second one for more leverage.

Jake doesn’t stop to set you on the couch like you had expected. Instead, he continues up the stairs and right into his room. He sets you on his bed gently, and you unwrap your arms from his neck, letting him pull away. Jake goes back to the door of his room, closes it, and clicks the lock into place. You raise an eyebrow at his action.

"That’s rather presumptuous, Hangman.”

“What?” He looks at you confused before he looks back at his door. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I wasn’t, I’m not.”

You shush him motioning towards yourself to try and get him to come closer again. “I know.”

Jake comes back to your side. Now that you have been given the temporary clearance to freely touch him, you cannot stop yourself. Jake sits next to you on the bed, and you are scooting closer so that your thighs are flush side by side. Jake throws an arm across your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him.

“Do you need to talk about it?” He asks you softly. You let a hollow dry laugh at his question, your laughter starts to devolve until it’s nearly hysteric giggling. Jake takes it in stride, holding you close and his thumb drawing small soothing back-and-forth shapes. After you are almost breathless and heaving, you finally start to recover.

“I don’t want to talk about it, but I definitely need to. Not with you, though, Jake.”

“Why not me?”

“Because it’s the kind of fucked you talk to a therapist about.”

“I’m a great listener.”

“I know you are, but this isn’t your baggage to pack around and deal with, Jake.”

“Baggage? Sugar, that’s why we have the attic. If that isn’t enough space, or you fill it up. I’ll build a shed in the backyard.”

“What if that’s not enough room?”

“Then we have the garage. We’ll just park in the driveway.”

“You would give up your shop?” You ask, thinking of Jake’s favorite place in the house.

“Yup,” Jake says without hesitating. “And after that, well, I’ve never been too fond of the extra guest room anyway.”

“If that’s all not enough?”

“Then we’ll move. Or we go through it until we find some we can let go of.” Jake says, his free hand crossing his body to settle warmly on your knee.

“It’s not physical baggage.”

“I know it’s not.”

The feeling of affection you feel for him grows even more. Every time you think that there is no way possible you can fall further in love with him, Jake turns around and proves you wrong. He does some kind, funny, sweet, unexpected thing that makes you fall a little harder.

You lift your head and look at him. Jake’s eyes meet your own, the severe stormy look in them a little less present. He is a bit more at ease, no longer shaking with anger. You let your eyes fall to his lips. You briefly think you love him so much it might be worth the risk to shift forward and kiss him. That maybe it wouldn’t lead to disaster like you’ve convinced yourself it would.

“What’s your favorite comfort movie?” Jake asks, breaking you from your trance. You shift a bit further away from him but not far before giving him an answer.

The two of you watch your favorite comfort movie. You are cuddled into Jake’s side the whole time. The two of you had shifted back into the bed, cuddled close while watching the wall-mounted TV in Jake’s room. Exhaustion hits you like a wall as the adrenaline leaves your system, accompanied by the heat radiating off of Jake, the way everything smells like him, and his Tempurpedic bed; you relax more than you have in a long time.

As you start to drift asleep against Jake’s chest, his heartbeat has a steady, soothing rhythm under your ear. You think out of all the times you have dreamed of falling asleep with Jake in his bed, none of those fantasies come even close to how good it actually feels. None of your dreams prepared you for how safe you would feel.

Your dreams also didn’t prepare you for sneaking back to your room at three in the morning when you woke up. Or pretending the next day that nothing had happened. After all, nothing had happened except some tense moments and Jake getting a glimpse of your past. You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t, either. You catch him watching you closer than he would typically for the next few days.

More time starts to pass, and you are thankful that nothing was risked or changed between you and Jake or has affected you as roommates. There are only the slightest moments when both of you are much more casual about physical affection. Hugging Jake was now a commonplace part of your day, and you occasionally catch yourself daydreaming about what it felt like to fall asleep in his bed.

🏡🧩🏡

You had started to pick up what the signs were when Jake wasn't okay, and something was bothering him pretty early into moving in. He had some pretty obvious tells. However, something had been really really bothering him for a while now. He didn't say anything to you, but he didn't have to; Jake's mannerisms gave him away. Jake wasn't following his routine and had started obsessively cleaning.

The other night, he knocked on your door, bursting open seconds after you told Jake he could come in. Then Hangman had all but begged you to let him deep clean your room. When you told Jake no, he gave you a look like you just insulted his Babula and stalked out of the room. Half an hour later, he was back in your doorway, asking the same question phrased slightly differently. You had finally given in after his second time double-checking. However, you insisted that you helped and supervised his cleaning. Once you agreed, Jake had done his happy dance. It was so cute it managed to cover the embarrassment that was crawling in you at letting someone else, let alone the man you loved your roommate, clean your room.

The next day Hangman decided to reorganize all the bookshelves. First by color, then by genre, and even one time by the number of pages. His last reorganization was to put them all back to by author's last name. This was only after Jake talked to you for over an hour about the pros and cons of the Dewey decimal system in modern library science.

After the books, you come home, and there is a puzzle on the table. A 2500-piece puzzle of the painting Meeting On The Turret Stairs. Jake works on it constantly. Only stopping to go to work and the gym. For three days, he doesn't read and doesn't do his sudoku. Jake doesn't sit with you in the living room at night. Instead, he just works on his puzzle, blowing past his typical bedtime every night. Then he stops going to the gym, and a day after that, he cancels his weekly call with his niece. That's when you know without a shadow of a doubt that whatever is bothering Jake must be significant.

Finally, you can't bite your tongue or try to keep your nose out of his business anymore. The concern you feel is too much to handle. You had gotten up at 3 am for some water, and Jake was still puzzling at the table.

"How's it going, Sport?"

"No, I'm Hangman," Jake answers in a quiet voice.

"What?" you ask him, confused.

"Not my callsign," Jake mumbles to you. You squint and try to piece together what he means in your still half-asleep brain.

"You know someone named Sport?"

Jake just shrugs his shoulders, engrossed in his task. "There are worse callsigns to have."

"Like Hangman?" You tease him. Jake finally looks up at you when you say that. Jake's eyes are bloodshot, and he has a hurt look. The small frown, paired with his glassy tired eyes, makes you feel like you just kicked a puppy.

"Hangman is cool," Jake protests.

"Hangman is very cool," you tell him placatingly, holding up your hands in surrender.

"You don't actually think it's cool," Jake whispers, his tired eyes falling back to his puzzle. Jake sounds so sad about it that your feet are moving before your brain, and you are sliding next to him on the bench for the long side of the table.

"Hangman is cool," You say and then nudge him affectionately with your shoulder. "You are cool."

His lips quirk upwards from his frown before falling again. “Well, I am the Hangman.”

"How is the puzzle going?"

"Fine, good. I like puzzling."

"You have done other puzzles?" You ask.

"Yeah, I have a whole box full."

You hum at his words, tiredly wiping your eyes. "You should have been Puzzleman."

Jake's eyes flash over to yours, slightly worried. "Do not ever say that around Coyote."

"Hangman, It's three AM." He looks surprised to hear the time, and you watch him turn his wrist to confirm the time on his watch.

"Go to bed," You add softly.

"I like when you call me Jake."

"Then why do you listen better when I call you Hangman?"

"Hmm, maybe because that's the name I hear most often. Maybe because it's easy to be Hangman."

"Is it hard to be Jake?" You ask him gently.

Jake is quiet for a long moment after your question. Before answering, he sets the piece he had been holding back in its color pile. All he gives you is a whispered, "Sometimes."

You aren't sure what to say, so instead, you put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it. "It's time for bed, Jake. It'll be here in the morning."

Jake nods his head, listening to you. You get the water you initially came downstairs for and wait until Jake starts up the stairs. Following behind him, you make sure he goes into his room. You aren't really eased about the situation when he shuts the door. However, you are glad he will at least get some sleep.

Before you go back to bed, you shoot your group chat with Marlee and Javy a text.

Have you ever seen Jake do a puzzle?

You wake up to texts from Javy and Marlee, both asking all kinds of questions like: what you meant? What kind of puzzle? With how many pieces? And, how long has Jake been working on it?

From the questions alone, you gather that your worries are correct and Jake puzzling is not a good thing. Getting out of bed, you make yourself presentable enough to venture out of your room and downstairs.

In the mid-morning light, you are once again greeted with the sight of Jake hunched over his puzzle. A steaming cup of tea sitting next to him, and Chris LeDoux playing from the record player.

"Good morning," you say.

"Morning, sugar," Jake says back. You are glad to get a response, but the worry is still gnawing at you. You start putting together your own morning drink, and your eyes keep drifting back to him.

"Jake, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He says, not looking away from the puzzle piece he is currently studying.

You stop leaning against the counter, taking your drink with you and walk over to his side. Jake is completing this puzzle concerningly fast; you notice examining his progress this morning alone. He keeps staring at the piece in his hand, unblinking even as you approach. You watch him for a few more moments before deciding it's time for you to intervene.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You pose cautiously. His eyebrows crease, and he still doesn't look away from the puzzle.

"About the puzzle?" he asks you in a hopeful tone.

"No, Jake. About what's bothering you."

He finally does spare you a glance, and you don't like how dull his green sea glass eyes are. The normally vibrant, mischievous glint isn't present, and they are slightly bloodshot and red, even after you forced him to get some sleep.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just work stuff. I've got to finish this puzzle." He tells you, then looks away.

You frown at Jake's answer. Puzzles are supposed to be fun, and you don't think this is actually a healthy, cathartic activity for Jake anymore. You almost preferred his book reorganization or when he went to every door and oiled the hinges, the top and bottom hinges twice but the middle ones only once. When you asked why not the middle one twice? Jake had told you something about middle children that had made you laugh.

While Jake normally released stress through organization, order, and control. The frenzy and energy he has with this puzzle is different. This wasn't like the month after you moved in, and he decided to rearrange his shop in the garage. Jake had reorganized his tools, labeling where they all went. After that, he made you a booklet of where everything in the garage was located, just in case you wanted to use something. Jake was very genuine about it, too. As if he really believed you were about to start borrowing his screwdrivers, saws, wrenches, lathe, and various other tools.

Your frown deepens, and you pull out your phone, shooting a text to your group chat with Marlee and Javy. Answering some of their questions from the morning and shooting back a request of your own.

After texting with them for a few minutes, you set your phone down on the table, taking the spot next to Jake. He gives you another short look but doesn't say anything. You take a moment to look at the piece he has been staring at for over five minutes at this point.

Taking it gently from his grasp, you examine it yourself. A moment later, you place the puzzle piece into the correct spot. Jake ghosts over the piece you just placed and taps it twice as your hand retreats.

"You got to tap it into place," he tells you softly. Then Jake is back digging through his piles, looking for the next piece.

You help Jake with his puzzle for a little bit, pleasantly surprised at the textured surface of the pieces, enjoying how tactile they are. You know this must be a very expensive and nice puzzle. Any time you place a piece, you make sure to tap it twice for Jake. Each time you do, Jake gives a small nod of approval. The one time you forget, his fingers quickly find the piece again and tap it twice with a small annoyed huff. You don't try and coax Jake into a conversation again, simply enjoying just being with him.

Y'all's work is broken a while later by the doorbell ringing. The sound startles Jake, and he jumps in his seat and his head snapping towards the door. You place a hand on his shoulder again to try and ease the sudden tension.

"It's okay," you tell him quietly, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. "I'll go get it."

"No, I can get it," Jake says, starting to stand up. You know he doesn't like you to answer the front door anymore. He hasn't ever since your dad showed up unannounced. Jake has never explicitly told you he doesn't want you to answer the door. However, you have picked up on it because he has not let you answer the door once since the incident. One time Jake had even sprinted across the house to beat you to the door.

"Don't worry. I know who it is," you say. Jake gives you a concerned look but then nods a little bit. His eyes trail after you as you make your way to the entry hall.

You open the door to Javy's tall form and are immediately wrapped in a tight warm hug. You lean into his embrace, enjoying the comfort for a moment.

"Is it really bad?" Javy asks you in a low voice when you pull away from his hug.

You shrug but then follow it up with a nod. "Yeah. I mean, I don't know. Maybe not? But it's the worst I have ever seen."

Javy gives you another reassuring squeeze before he saunters into the house towards the living area. Jake's eyes are trained on the hallway, clearly waiting for you to come back. However, when he sees Javy, he blanches, dropping his eyes back to the puzzle. Jake's shoulders hunching tight almost up to his ears.

"Hey, Hangman," Javy hums.

"Machado," Jake says gruffly, fiddling with a piece.

Javy shocks you by not immediately going over to Jake. Instead, he meanders over to your TV. He shocks you even more by opening a drawer in the entertainment center and pulling out an Xbox. Javy starts hooking up the console, and you shift your eyes to Jake again.

He is still sitting there digging through his puzzle pieces. You aren't sure what to do. If you should leave the two of them alone, join Javy in the living room, or go back to the table with Jake. So instead, you end up in a weird middle ground lingering in the hallway. Finally, when Javy has everything set up, and the Xbox booted on, he goes over to Jake. Coyote sets his hands down so hard on Jake's shoulders that it jostles the blond a bit.

"Wow, buddy, this is a nice puzzle," Javy says casually.

Jake just hums in response, placing a puzzle piece and tapping it twice. Only answering once he picks up another piece. "It's a watercolor by Frederic William Burton. He painted it in — "

"It's time for a break, Hangman," Coyote says, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Naw, you see this section," Jake gestures generally towards the entire surface area of the puzzle. "It's almost done."

"Nope, it's break time," Javy repeats more firmly.

Jake's shoulders hang, and it looks like it takes him physical effort to stand up from the table. Jake's joints and back audibly pop from the action, and he raises his hands above his head to fully stretch.

You try to root yourself in concern, not thinking of the flash of skin you saw where Jake's shirt rode up a bit. Jake blinks a few times, and when he finishes stretching, he turns to fully look at Javy.

"How long are you staying?" Jake asks, daring to glance back down at the puzzle. Javy snaps his fingers in front of Jake's face twice and then points aggressively toward the couch.

"As long as I want to," Javy responds with an upbeat tone and a wide grin. He gives a light shove, and Jake shuffles over to the couch. Jake looks at you as he walks, and you can tell that he feels betrayed.

"I'll leave you to it," you say, ready to retreat into your room.

Jake looks away from you then, and you don't like the flash of embarrassment on his face as he does. It's been odd seeing Jake so completely out of his element and uncomfortable in his skin the last few days. Embarrassed wasn't a look that fits well on Jake. It made you want to rush in and remedy the situation.

"You don't gotta go," Jake calls to you.

"Javy came over to hang out with you, Jake." You say plainly. You want to give them space to talk and hang out.

"Yeah, bro, feeling the love," Javy says jokingly. It earns him a sharp jab to his side from Jake. The action just makes Javy laugh, though. "Don't worry so much, Hang. Marlee is coming by later with dinner, and then all four of us will kick back, but right now, it's me, you, and the Master Chief."

"You'll hang out with us later, though? Or are you doing something tonight?" Jake asks, ignoring Javy.

"There is nothing I would rather do tonight than hang out with you," you tell him. Jake's eyes snap up from where they had drifted to the left, lowered just enough not to meet yours. The burning bright color in them is startling after the dull, distant look he has supported the last few days. You can't stop the words you say next, needing to try and back peddle. It takes a long beat before you say, "and Marls and Javy. I don't know if you've ever had Marlee's green chile enchiladas, but they are to die for."

"They are so good," Jake agrees enthusiastically and looks down at the controller he is holding for the first time. Javy then shoots you a smile with a thumbs up, and you are reassured enough that you head upstairs and into your room.

You hear Javy's voice behind you, "You know Marlee only cooks for two reasons."

You close your door before hearing Jake's answer and resist the urge to eavesdrop. A few hours later, you hear loud yelling and laughter from the living room. Then get a text from Marlee to send the boys to help her get the food out of her car.

The rest of the night is mostly light, and Jake almost passes for his normal self. He jokes with Coyote, eats two helpings of Marlee's enchiladas, and with you... well, with you, he is hot and cold. One moment Jake will be flirting with you in a heavy bravado, then the next, he falls into a quiet, contemplative silence. Javy has to herd Jake away from his puzzle three separate times. It gets easier to draw Jake back in every time; the last time only took a question directed toward Jake to draw him back to you guys.

It is a good night, and everyone seems happy at the end. Jake hugs Javy and Marlee goodbye and leaves you to walk your friends out. You let out a small sigh of relief, seeing Jake walk up the stairs and not back to the dining room table.

You talk with the couple for a few more minutes on the front porch, then hug them goodbye. You are thankful for them, to have such good friends who are willing to be a support system, for you, for Jake, and for their other friends too. It warms your heart, and it feels a lot like family.

Jake's puzzling is less frenzied after that night, and he starts to reign back in. He has full conversations with you again and goes to the gym after work as well. He follows Javy's rules that had been texted to you both and doesn't puzzle by alone again.

For the next week or so, Javy and Marlee end up in your living room in the evenings. Keeping Jake from becoming too obsessed, you also notice that he won't let Javy or Marlee touch his puzzle pieces. But when Jake does work on the puzzle, and you are home, he always invites you to join him.

Jake makes an effort to converse with you while working too. The conversations you two get into range from academic to childhood memories, favorites — books, movies, foods, bands, animals— funny stories, and anything else that would pop in your heads. Of course, each puzzle piece must still be double tapped into place, and you are meticulous about following that rule.

Puzzling in the evenings with Jake surprisingly becomes one of your favorite times of the day. Sometimes you would even just sit there at the table with Jake, scrolling on your phone while he works on the puzzle.

Hangman's presence is a comforting steady grounding force, so much so that you can only hope you provide half of that for him. You knew you were roommates, and Jake may not carry the same romantic feelings you do. However, you couldn't deny the plain platonic affection that poured from him, so much you sometimes think M aybe . Maybe he does feel more.

When you enter the kitchen, you see the puzzle is finished. You go to examine it and realize two pieces are missing. You feel a bit of worry creeping up in you, not sure how Jake will react to having lost pieces and being unable to complete the puzzle.

You start to look around, checking every chair and bench to make sure a piece hasn't fallen. You shine a light under the couch in case they slipped under there. Then you are flipping up the edge of the rug in the living room and trying to think of any other feasible place the pieces could have disappeared.

"What are you doing?" you hear, and you snap your head to see Jake standing on the other side of the couch, looking at you bemused.

"Sorry, I was just looking for your missing pieces," you say, straightening up and fixing the rug.

Jake quirks an eyebrow then he follows your gaze to the table where his puzzle is. Jake's mouth drops open, lips barely parted, and a soft "Oh." falls out like he didn't even make the sound intentionally.

"No luck so far, though. I'm sorry. I'm sure they will turn up. Only so many places they could have gone," You say, making sure to project an upbeat, positive tone and attitude.

Jake looks between you and the puzzle twice before suddenly you are graced with the rarest of Jake Seresin's smiles. It is one you have only seen a handful of times. It's different than his smirk and his confident panty dropping smile. It's not the smile that he gets when he laughs, and his eyes crinkle around the edges or the mouth wide open smile. It's not his practiced perfect smile he uses for pictures.

No, this smile is closed-mouthed, those pearly whites hidden from view. It's a quirk of his lips like Jake is trying to hold it back from showing it on his face but he isn't entirely successful. His bottom lip is tucked a little bit between his teeth as if he is physically trying to bite back the expression, none of which prevents Jake's dimples from popping up.

It's a smile that always leaves you a little stunned, and this is no exception. Not that there are many things about Jake that don't leave you feeling that way. This smile, paired with the soft look in his eyes, makes you want to melt into the floor.

"I have the pieces," Jake tells you then. It takes you a few moments to process his words.

"Oh, you do?"

"Yeah, I do," he says and pulls out a ziplock baggie from his pocket with the two pieces in it.

"That's great!"

"They weren't lost. I was saving them, actually."

"Saving them for what?"

"For you. Well, for us."

You don't think you are able to hide your surprise at his words. "For us?"

"Yeah. You know, so we can finish this puzzle together. We worked on it together. So, we should finish it together. Few things match the feeling of putting the final piece of a puzzle into place."

God, you want to kiss him. You want to grab his face and smash your lips against his. You want to taste him and thread your fingers in his short dirty blonde hair. The little fantasy starting to form in your brain is cut off by Jake walking over to the table.

You follow him there, and Jake sets the last two pieces on the table, letting you pick which one you want. Once you make your selection, Jake grabs the other one.

"Okay, on three," he tells you with a grin. At his countdown, you both place the pieces of the puzzle. Automatically you double tap your piece into place. Jake was right; it is an extremely satisfying feeling finishing the puzzle and seeing it whole for the first time.

Your gaze drifts over the puzzle, and you look up to see Jake staring at you instead of the finished piece. After a moment, you realize what is wrong. Your hand reaches across and gently nudges Jake's to the side. Then you tap Jake's piece twice, realizing that for the very first time, he seemed to have missed that compulsion of his. However, you knew it would bother Jake when he realized he had forgotten, so you make sure to complete the ritual.

Jake's gaze snaps down to the piece you had tapped for him. Then his knuckles purposely brush against the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.

"Thank you," spills from both of your mouths at the same time, which makes you laugh.

"Jinx," Jakes says in a rushed voice, making you laugh harder. That odd tension in the air between you two disappears.

You walk into the kitchen and grab a white claw from the fridge, bringing it back for Jake, handing it to him. Jake is a strict enforcer of the jinx soda pop rule. The two of you look at the puzzle for a few more minutes. Taking in the stunning painting, the yearning and sadness of it never fails to impact you.

While the two of you had been working on the puzzle, Jake had told you many different facts about The Meeting On The Turret Stairs. How it was a watercolor painting by Frederic William Burton, the poem it was based on, the era it was painted in, and its place in Irish art.

When you asked Jake more, he surprised you by knowing hyper-specific details and answers off the top of his head. Intrigued, you learned how he had double majored at Annapolis in Aerospace Engineering and History. However, because Jake was golden boy Midshipman Seresin, he had gotten away with his final history thesis being art focused. Hangman more than understood how to be charming when he needed to be.

"What now?" You ask him.

"What do you mean?" Jake asks, confused.

"What do we do with the puzzle?" you ask. It sounds much better than what you wanted to say. What now between the two of you? What were you going to do to keep spending time together?

"We take it apart." Jake shrugs.

"No," you gasp, horrified thinking of all the time you had put into the puzzle just to undo it and throw it back in the box.

"What else would we do?" Jake asks you. You think for a moment before smiling at your own idea.

"Let's Mod Podge it, and then we can hang it up. We have some pretty bare walls in the house, and it is a stunning piece of art," you suggest.

Jake doesn't even take a moment to think it over before saying, "I love that idea."

So, you two are driving to the craft store to get cardboard and Mod Podge. A week later, the puzzle has been cemented and hung on the wall in between your and Jake's rooms upstairs. After the puzzle is finished, Jake is back into his sudoku and his various other reading books. He still lingers near you in the evenings, waiting longer than he used to before retreating to his room for bed.

One night almost a month after you two had finished the puzzle, Jake brings the subject up again. You two are lounging on the couch, he had just gotten home from watching the Army-Navy game at a bar with some of his friends, and he is definitely a little bit tipsy.

"I am going to build us a puzzle table," is the first thing he had loudly declared, walking in the door.

You were instantly worried about why Jake might want to start a new puzzle. "Is everything okay?"

Jake doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues on. "A really nice one that opens and closes with velvet or something so we don't have to worry about losing pieces, and maybe I can even make it an adjustable height?" He is talking to himself more than to you.

You watch as he grabs a notepad and pencil out of a drawer. Then he slumps on the couch. Before you know what's happening or can stop it, Jake has his head on your lap and is sketching design ideas, potential measurements, and materials.

"How are you doing?" you ask him again, staring down at his face, unable to contain your enamored smile. Jake just nods his head and keeps sketching while mumbling.

You run a hand through his soft hair tentatively. It is a bit longer than usual right now, almost out of regulation. He will need to get a haircut this week, but the strands are so soft, and you can't help but enjoy that there is a bit more there to run your fingers through. His eyes instantly close, and he hums contently at your touch.

"Hangman?" you ask him almost teasingly, halting your movements.

"Yes, sugar?"

"Are you okay?"

He blinks his eyes open and looks at you. Their gleaming sea glass green color is a little glazed over and so very soft. His mirth is open and obvious to you. "I'm so great. Navy won."

"That's great. Go Navy." A wide grin splits his face wide, and Jake's eyes actually crinkle closed, hiding their unique color from you again.

"That's right, Honey. Ooh ahh!" Jake responds automatically, making you both laugh, and maybe you had been drinking a little bit of wine before he came home; perhaps you were warm from that, or maybe Jake was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Your eyes lock with his, and your hands pull out of his hair. You let one drift trace his face helping him relax the furrow in his eyebrows.

"Why do you want to start a new puzzle?" You ask.

"No new puzzle. A new table." He corrects you. Jake taps his pencil on the notepad pointedly.

"For a new puzzle?"

"You liked doing a puzzle with me, right? Well, after the first bit, you liked it?"

"I loved it." The words slip out of your mouth before you can amend the sentiment to come off less forward.

"Me too,"Jake says and trails off for a moment. Then he continues asking, "So you would be open to doing another one with me? Just for fun this time, not my mental health." Jake doesn't say the last sentence with any bit of shame or embarrassment, which you admire. However, the vulnerability is obvious and glaring.

"Yeah," you confirm, once again having to run your fingers over his brow to relax his face.

"Perfect. I'm building the table, then. You can pick the puzzle this time."

You can't help but let your hands slip back into Jake's hair, and he returns to sketching on his notepad. It was a moment of quiet peace you knew you didn't ever want to let go of.

"Javy said that you don't like to do puzzles with other people, and that's what helps you pull out of the pit."

Jake's eyes don't leave his notepad, and he turns the page. You watch Jake start to scrawl the pros of a dovetail joint versus a dowel joint before he starts to draw it out as well. You almost don't think he will say anything back by the time he finally does.

"You aren't other people," Jake tells you, as he starts drawing in shading, which is completely unnecessary for anything beyond aesthetic. He bends the lines from a basic blueprint to a detailed drawing of a realistic table joint. It was distracting watching the engineer in him flow into the unexpected artist.

The idea that you ever had thought his talent for art and engineering were such radically different things was a bit funny. Now that you see him dance between the lines back and forth so elegantly that you understand it wasn't two competing sides of Jake. It was just him. It was how he worked and operated.

It was how he was Hangman and also Jake. It was how he could fill out sudoku then go to bed at 9 pm and how he could shoot pool until closing with the squad. It was how he was a cowboy and a pilot. It was how you wanted to cry a little bit, knowing he enjoyed you there, knowing you weren't like other people.

And you are struck with the thought that you don't ever want Jake to do a puzzle with anyone but you. You never want to see him sitting alone at three am with bloodshot eyes putting pieces into place again. And you don't even want to consider him explaining animatedly why he believes a piece goes in one color pile and not the one it was originally sorted to anyone but you.

You want to be selfish with Jake. You want to have him, and you want to keep him close, never letting go. Surely you could convince Jake to be yours. It was a selfish act that could be forgiven if you promised to cherish him. After all, there were worse things in the world than loving someone, so entirely the fact they might not love you to the same degree didn't hurt so much.

Jake flips to the next page in the notepad and starts to sketch out the living room. As he works, the living room table starts to look significantly different than your current one.

"Oh. It's for the living room?" You ask him.

At first, he just hums in response, but when he finishes rounding out a line, Jake lifts his pencil from the paper. It pauses there, poised and frozen, as he asks, "Do you want the dining table instead?"

"No." As you continue, the pencil falls back to the page, "It just wasn't what I was originally thinking."

"I could do a dining room table too. They could even be made of the same wood." Jake says. His green eyes broke from the page to glance up at your face for the first time in a while. He searches your face trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.

"Two puzzle tables?"

"Think of all the possibilities. We could do two puzzles at once." Jake gasps. You kind of hate the excited timbre that Jake's voice picks up at the idea, but you actually mostly love it.

"Just one puzzle at a time, please." You say, giving his hair a teasing gentle tug, ignoring the sharp inhale of his breath that immediately follows. You refuse to give away the unexpected thrill sent straight through your body that settles at your core. You have to consciously make sure your words do not fall out rushed, "I think it would be nice to have out here, comfier."

"I thought the exact same thing."

"Oh really?" You ask, amused.

"Yes, Ma'am. I've got two words for you, puzzle naps."

You huff a small laugh at him and bite your lower lip. He flips back to his first page of notes, where he had a small list of wood. He adds cherry to his list after oak.

"Juniper is really pretty," you suggest. He immediately starts to write down your suggestion with a little heart next to it. When Jake starts to shade in the heart, you feel like the one in your chest might actually burst out. Something very similar to butterflies was fluttering around in you, but it is much less nervous and rather born of pure fondness.

"Sounds beautiful. I'm sure it's perfect," Jake tells you.

"Let's pick one together, though. It should be our choice."

"No," Jake says, drawing an elegant oval around juniper. Then he goes back and strikes a straight line through the other options. "No one else has ever remembered to double tap."

Jake spends a few more minutes detailing the design before his eyes start to get sleepy, and his pencil marks become light and halting. It doesn't take much from you to encourage him to go to bed, just a whispered suggestion.

He stumbles up from the couch and places a kiss on your forehead. Jake puts his notebook on the counter in the kitchen. After that, Jake circles back to press a second lingering kiss to your forehead. You watch him go all the way around the house to double check the locks, the front door, the garage, and the back door. Finally, after sending you two finger guns, Jake drags himself up the stairs, humming Anchors Aweigh.

"Until we meet once more, here's wishing you a happy voyage home!" You loudly hear him sing. You listen to Jake as he hums his fight song while randomly peppering in other lyrics. When you finally hear him close his door, your mind makes a decision on the war it's been having.

You are going to do whatever it takes for Jake Seresin to agree to be yours. Potential consequences be damned; Jake is worth the risk.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #Hangman imagine #Slow burn #Roley Coley's writing #part 1 #Double tap #Hangman x you #house we share

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lastchancestardomm · 2 months

Text

Weirdos

League Of Villains x Child!Reader

Word Count - 1.7K

Warnings: References to past child abuse. One mild swear word. Found Family League Of Villains. OC-insert. Italics.

Status - Not Beta Read

A/N: Enjoy... *vaguely gestures* ...this. I've fallen back into an obsession, and this is the only way I cope. Asami Gumi, our protagonist, had a mom who fucking killed her dad (but shh that's sensitive). I love the League so much, and I've been rooting for them since they were introduced, so I thought I might publish this after getting back into My Hero. Anyway, some kind of snippet is coming up so watch for that ig.

Just as she stepped into the base, all eyes snapped to her. Their silence was exactly what Asami expected, and she wanted nothing more than to disappear. She tried tilting the baseball cap upon her head down, so that they couldn't see her face, as she meekly placed the plastic bag on the table.

"Sorry I'm so late, here's the– the food. I'm going to go wash–"

A heavy hand came down onto her white mop of hair and she gulped, tears already welling in her eyes.

A grave voice. "What happened to your face?"

Dabi's voice lowering a whole octave is the scariest thing in the world. Asami was left defenseless, silently begging him not to hit her. Because if he hit her, she will cry.

She hiccuped. "N-nothing..."

"That's also not the jacket you left with earlier! Don't you lie to us." Twice adds from across the room. She's not a liar; why would she lie?

Asami hadn't been staying here for too long, and she didn't believe they cared about her other than when she would go get their food.

"Asami," Kurogiri crosses his arms over his chest with a stern look. "Take the jacket and the hat off. Now."

She can't refuse them when they're all piercing her with their murderous gazes like that. They've been nice enough to keep her here, but they're still villains. Still bad people. She couldn't say they didn't scare her in the slightest. Asami was deathly afraid of what they might do when they see what happened to her.

She slowly, and quite carefully, removed the jacket first. Please don't hit me. The action revealed a few scabbed-over cuts and some bruises on her arms, and the small, circular burn scars on the top of her hands. Those were old. Those weren't important.

When met with silence, she took off the cap too; scrunching her eyes shut and preparing for the worst. More tears came to her eyes yet didn't fall.

"What. Happened?"

Asami flinched at Dabi's harsh question. She avoided his eyes, hands fidgeting idly. No! Don't hit me!

"Answer me, kid."

She picked at a scratch on her palm. "I– I got caught in a– in an attack with Heroes. I got a bit–"

"A bit what!?" Twice slams his hand down on the table as Asa jolts. "Your face has a giant sore! What had hit you?"

"Or who?" Dabi questions, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Asami backs away, defensive about the whole situation. You're gonna hit me, aren't you? "It– it wasn't on purpose! Something... uh– hit the ground and went flying at me–"

"You could've gotten hurt worse than that!" Dabi booms at her, stepping closer. "Why didn't you block it in time? Or at least get out of the way?"

She felt herself getting smaller and smaller by the second. Don't yell. It's bad. "I was running, and I heard someone screaming behind me and I wasn't– wasn't paying attention."

"Aw, Dabi, you don't have to be so harsh," Toga prances up behind Asami, and gingerly wraps her arms around Asa's quivering shoulders. "You're being scary again, tone it down a notch." Yeah. Scary.

"Yeah, stupid. You're going to OP on the yelling. No one wants to hear your mouth," Shigaraki pipes up, seemingly unbothered by the whole ordeal and instead choosing to focus all his attention on his handheld console.

Dabi whirls to face him. "What'd you say, Vaseline? How about you say that with your chest?"

Shigaraki stands up angrily, yet minding the console he held, "I wonder what burnt chicken ashes tastes like–"

Shut up! I said you're scary when you yell! Shut up!–

"Enough, you two!" Kurogiri booms out, "There are more important matters than your pointless bickering."

"Yeah! Our poor birdy Asa got hurt," Toga coos, rubbing over the purple-pink mark on Asami's face. She winces when Toga's fingers brush over the sore spot, yet Asami can't bring herself to push her away. She's too afraid of what the consequences might be. "Daww... that's gonna leave a huge bruise for weeks." As if it wasn't already bruising.

"I'm gonna destroy whichever Hero who caused it," Dabi turns back to her. "Who was it? Was it Endeavor? Best Jeanist? Mirko? One of them U.A kids??"

"I– I don't know. I didn't see them clearly," she squeaks. He's really going to kill her now.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T SEE THEM?!" Blue embers spark from his palms.

NO! DON'T HIT ME! PLEASE!

Asami recoils, scarred hands flying up to protect her face. Although, she stumbled back onto Toga, who catches her with a tiny hum of empathy. For a second, it seemed Dabi's rigid expression softened.

"Hey, hey, take it down a few notches," Twice wraps an arm around Dabi's shoulder. "No need to be so abrasive."

"I'm s-sorry I got hurt, I– I'll try to be more careful next time," All the tears that had built up behind her eyes dribbled down her face. She's mortified. She doesn't want to know what happens if they see her crying.

"Aw, look what you did," Twice exasperatedly motions towards Asami's bowed head. "This is what happens when you're such a tsundere– hiding your feelings all the time."

"Come here, Asami," Kurogiri motions to the empty barstool next to Shigaraki. "Let me take care of your wounds."

"But," she blinks back to clear her vision, "I deserved it, didn't I?" Shouldn't I be in trouble? Why didn't you hit me yet?

"Oh shut up, stop being an emo," Toga pushes Asa towards the chair.

She ends up seated at the bar, finally realizing that her ears and non-injured parts of her face were hot with embarrassment. She continues constricting herself inwards, uncomfortable with her surroundings. Not to mention how perplexed she is.

Shigaraki spares Asami a sideways glance, before mashing his buttons nonchalantly. "That's one hell of a bruise, you're gonna look worse than me for a while."

She can't tell from his tone if he's insulting her, trying to make a joke, or failing miserably at an action of comfort. But someone's tone usually always flew over her head.

Kurogiri places a first aid kit on the counter. "I'll do your face first," he pulls out a few cotton swabs and some kind of disinfectant solution. "It may burn," he gently warns.

Twice leans his arm on the other side of her, "What's with that face, Asami? You look worried."

She paused for a moment, looking down at her feet. You guys are going to hit me. But you haven't yet. I'm scared you'll hit me when I'm not looking and make me cry.

"I'm waiting for you guys to do something to me."

The entire room freezes, sent into stunned silence. The air gets tense, sending her into another heart-racing mini panic. You're gonna hit me now! Don't hit me! I'm sorry!

Twice is the first to interrupt the silence. Even the soft hand he places on Asa's shoulder causes her to jump. "I don't know how things were before you met us, or if that's the kind of impression we give," he shoots a look at Dabi, who simply crosses his arms and looks away, "But that's not how we do things. It was an honest mistake. How could you have known that would happen? We're just worried about something bad happening to you."

So you won't hit me? I don't trust that. People always hit me.

She hesitantly looks up. "You– you guys– you won't?–" Asami starts quivering again, getting nervous. She can't believe them. Her mom told her that, too, but still hit her. She should just shut up.

"We promise. No one is allowed to hurt you under our protection." Kurogiri comforts, swirling a cotton swab in the disinfectant.

She perked up at his words. She still was a tad reticent, but spoke. "You mean, I'm not just some kid you have running around doing your chores? I- I'm not annoying?"

"You make it sounds like you're a stray cat or something," Shigaraki comments. "Though, you are usually quiet, and do require a moderate amount of attention..."

"Of course you're not just 'some kid', silly! You're one of us!" Toga's sweater-pawed hands envelop Asami's torso in a hug. "Dabi's just being a meanie because he doesn't know how to show affection. He should still really apologize though,"

"Yeah, Dabi!" Twice adds with a flourish. "Come and apologize to my poor child!" He grabs Asa's head and forcefully pushes it into his hard chest.

Dabi sighs heavily, like a child forced to apologize; rubbing the back of his neck as the two look at him expectantly. "I shouldn't've yelled at you, kid. I didn't know you'd be scared like that."

Toga quirks her brow smugly at him, and Dabi groans. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," It's weird being smothered by a group of housemates who might as well be strangers, isn't it? But somehow, it blooms some warmth into Asami's chest. Silently, a few more unshed tears fall down her face, but no one is worried. She's not worried.

"Alright, you get the first bite of grub," Twice eagerly opens up the bags of food and rips open one of the containers, pulling out some disposable chopsticks to feed Asami.

Kurogiri gently blots at her face with his first aid supplies. "Toga, stop wiggling, you're moving Asami!"

Toga's grip around Asa's waist doesn't loosen at all, in fact tightening, as her face snuggles into Asa's back. "Ey, Twice, it's no fair you get to feed Asami first, I wanna do it!"

It's at this moment when she feels like Dabi and Shigaraki are the most normal out of all of them, until they start bickering over a container of noodles and begin destroying things so Kurogiri needs to reprimand them again. Eventually, the others who were off somewhere else return and the chaos kicks up. Even so, among all the prodding, poking, squeezing, fighting, pulling, bickering, and smothering; Asami wonders if this is what family is supposed to feel like. What a real family is supposed to feel like.

A secret smile only she can see tugs at her lips. Nah, they're just a bunch of weirdos.

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madamvanrouge · 7 months

Text

Lilia Vanrouge X Reader

✿Briar's Secret [Part 8]✿

Note: THIS IS THE FINAL PART! Angst, fluff, love reunion stuff, cute kissing scene alert, cute banter scene alert, Meleanor's little sister!au, present twst era.

Mentions of my twst OC Midnight.

"You broke up with Riddle? Why?" Lilia questioned as [Y/N] sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. Lilia's heart clenched in both joy and sorrow.

"I have been having these strange dreams. I keep on meeting this person- He always pulls me towards the sunset sky and gazes at it with me till it becomes exactly midnight. And every time, the dream ends when it turns midnight. When he's about to tell me something. Its been happening for a month. And then Riddle got angry when I couldn't do some stuff for him because the dreams have been weirding and stressing me out, so we got into a pretty nasty argument where he broke up with me." [Y/N] sighed yet again, nuzzling Lilia's shoulder.

Lilia almost felt his heart do flips at the news. She was remembering. There was no mistake. A person leaving exactly at midnight. It had to be Midnight. It frustrated him to think she'd dreamed of Midnight instead of Lilia but it was a start. He should feel bad for Riddle, but he couldn't help the seams of happiness bursting in his essence.

"What does he look like?" Lilia asked patiently, though in truth, he was far from patient. He tapped the bench they were sitting on impatiently, hoping she wouldn't notice his quiet fidgeting.

"There's actually two people. They sound only slightly different and look a bit different. The one who appears at dusk has a soft voice and short hair. The one who appears at midnight at the end of the dream has long black hair. Thats all I remember." She pressed a hand to her forehead.

Ah. So thats how it was. Inside her, [Y/N] had always seen Lilia and Midnight as important people. She'd associated them as friends. Lilia wondered, would she hate him once she knew what he'd done to Midnight? Once she knew of how he never apologized to Midnight till after his death?

"I am sure its not much. But sometimes, dreams may bring about to your notice a gleam familiar as if you may have seen it once before. It is good to keep in mind that dreams sometimes encapsulate memories. Khehehe." Lilia chuckled. [Y/N] only snuggled into him further, seeking his comfort. Something he was more than happy to give.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

It was after Malleus' overblot when [Y/N] tried to leave Twisted Wonderland that she finally remembered of her past self. Of Princess [Y/N] Draconia. She rushed as fast as her legs could carry her, to the giant double doors beyond which lay the lounge of Diasomnia dorm. Rushing in, she hurried up the flight of stairs, ignoring the students' stares as she knocked fervently on Lilia's door.

He opened the door, clearly stressed and dishevelled, his complexion pale as if he had not eaten for quite a while. His beautiful crimson eyes widened on seeing her, as he tilted his head questioningly. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him, her hand gently stroking his soft, smooth hair as she held him gently.

"I remember." were all the words needed to get Lilia's grip to tighten around her figure. [Y/N] felt her shoulder turn damp as her beloved fae General wept on her soundlessly, his shoulders trembling from having carried burdens heavier than he could handle for centuries, all alone.

"I'm home, Lilia." [Y/N] squeezed him. "My cute little flower." she used the silly nickname she'd come up with for him as a child, since his name referred to a flower.

"Welcome home, princess." Lilia wiped away his tears, getting down on one knee as he kissed the back of her soft, delicate hand. A faint blush covered the fae's cheeks as his lips touched her skin.

[Y/N] pulled him up forcefully, grabbing his chin as she did in the past, making him look her in the eye. "Oh look at you. So adorable when you're blushing."

"Khehe. Perhaps I could show you more." Lilia leant in to her lips. His gaze was fixated on her lips, on how they would taste. He wondered if a monster, a sinner like him even deserved this. But for now, he wished he could do as his heart wanted. He couldn't hold himself back anymore. He needed her.

"When did you learn to talk back?" [Y/N] chuckled as she caressed his cheek. "You were as meek as a village girl before. And had the temper to match your short height." She brought him in closer to her lips.

"Oh please." Lilia snickered, his warm breath fanning her lips. "Thankfully I have an advantage over you now."

"Hmm, jerk." she chuckled.

"I love you as well." Lilia grinned, his fang poking out.

"Oh, you cheeky little thing." [Y/N] grinned as her lips brushed his. "I love you."

"As do I, my dear princess." Lilia's lips met hers in a passionate kiss, his arms encircling her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer, loving her, loving her, and loving her as he'd always wanted to. He would protect her this time, with his life, he swore.

His treasure.

His perfect half.

His deepest, loveliest secret.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

[ＦＩＮ]

NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK!

A.N.: Hope everyone enjoyed, hehe.

#malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #diasomnia x reader #diasomnia

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the-whispers-of-death · 4 months

Text

Let me preface this by saying this not a usual Reader Drabble, this is for my OC "Stone" who is a Fleet Marine Corpsman in the U.S. Navy who is lent to the Task Force 141 to be their medic as a gesture of goodwill between the U.S. and the UK. And all of 17 of you know of him from "Save Me from Myself (Chapter 1)" and I most likely will not be updating that any time soon because I have not finished writing a work since late 2022-early 2023 and I just keep looking at the unfinished chapter two of "Save Me from Myself" and wanting to curl up in a ball because I'm not motivated. But I do have little bits of brain rot for Stone, so here it is. Okay, so Stone is cold and stoic, right? He's not one for making friends and he's freakishly tall (at 6'8") so he's an intimidating man when combined with his lack of friendliness. But still, he's too good of a Corpsman for the Task Force to turn him away. So they just deal with his behavior, grimacing whenever he patches them up efficiently but roughly because the man has no proper bedside manner.

But interactions with him can get... weird, almost. Especially with regarding his masala chai that he makes every morning for himself.

He'll glare at Ghost if Ghost comes around the stove while Stone's making the chai and maybe he'll growl beneath his muzzle-like mask if Ghost pushes his luck by asking for a cup (or cuppa as the British people say). But then one day, Ghost looks particularly weary, in body language alone of course, and all of a sudden, a cup of chai is pushed into his hands and before he even realizes it, Stone is walking down the hallway like he didn't just give Ghost a cup of chai.

After a particularly rough day of working and just being basically holed up in his office doing so much paperwork, Price comes to his barracks for the night and there it is. A lone, hot cup of chai on his nightstand, waiting for Price to drink it so that he could relax enough to sleep. There's no Stone in sight, because that would've been so creepy, but Price knows it's from the tall, cold Corpsman because he can smell the Indian spices when he picks the cup up to drink. And the trend continues whenever Price is feeling absolutely exhausted but also has his mind racing too much to sleep.

Gaz knows better than to try and drink Stone's chai, he's seen how Stone reacted to Ghost asking for a cup. So he most likely just tries his best to be out of the recreational room in the mornings so that he's out of the woods of interacting with Stone while Stone's making the chai. But one day, he woke up after one of the worst nightmares he's had in a while and he stumbles into the recreational room and there Stone is, making his chai. And Gaz, like a total sweetheart, just says good morning and even though he's eyeing that hot chai that would totally soothe him and his racing heart, he forces himself to go to the fridge and take out some food for breakfast. Only for Stone to slide over a cup of chai over to him after a few minutes, looking anywhere except Gaz like he hadn't just done something. (Yes, I think Stone would like Gaz more than the rest, enough that he'd be around Gaz after giving him some chai.)

Soap getting a cup of chai is the funniest, because he doesn't like tea. He's the only one who doesn't eye Stone's cups of chai, but he too cannot escape Stone giving him a cup. It happens when Soap gets sick, the Sergeant having gotten a cold after a previous mission in a rather colder climate and he hadn't been properly covered up fully. He's sort of still in a sickly haze, but he's able to be up and about, kinda. He was straight up just stumbling a bit as he moved along the base hallways, when all of a sudden he just gets pulled into the recreational room and to the couch. He gets sat down and a cup of chai is placed in his hands, Stone's heavy footsteps walking out of the room the only indication Soap has that it was in fact Stone who pulled him into the room. And he's so tempted not to drink the chai, hates the way tea tastes and he doesn't think Stone's will be any better, but his sore throat begs him to, so he eventually drinks it. And lo and behold, he actually likes it better than any of the teas Ghost, Price, and Gaz make.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

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jm-2406 · 25 days

Text

Just a ring.

Pairing - Tommy Shelby X reader; Male OC x reader.

Summary - “he has asked me to marry him but I had to come here first. I need to know if you feel anything… anything at all for me.”

Word count - 2.1k (longest I ever wrote)

Note - flashback in italics.

Warnings - infidelity.

Cursive words made their way across the document as he led the pen from left to right, every movement a study in perfection. A famous business man like Thomas Shelby who hid his real business behind that of gin production and bookmaking, couldn't afford anything less than perfection. He pursed his lips as he focused on getting his signature just right, reading the already typed composition. Mergers, especially one as important as this one needed to be dealt with utmost care, and a very carefully crafted ‘brown nosing’ letter never hurt anyone.

He was feeling very pleased with his efforts when a loud noise from outside his office startled him. Throwing an angry glare towards the closed door, he cursed the person who disturbed him.

“You can't go in there Miss. He's very busy.” His secretary's voice reached his ears. “To hell with his schedule. I don't care.” The other voice responded sharply and he knew who that other person was. He mentally prepared himself for the upcoming drama, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

“I'm sorry Mr. Shelby, this—this Woman refused to make an appointment. Should I escort her out?”

Tommy eyed the girl in front of him; she stared back defiantly, challenging him. He wouldn't throw her out but that didn't mean that he couldn't make her sweat. The young woman in front of him started to fidget nervously the longer Tommy kept staring at her without a word. “It's okay George. You're excused.” The woman heaved a sigh of relief at his words.

Tommy turned to her and said coldly. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure? What is it, [Y/L/N]? Say your piece and spare me. I am too busy right now.”

[Y/N] scoffed, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to protect herself from his coldness. “Wow. So you can speak more than three words at a time and just my luck that you use them to dismiss me. ‘[Y/L/N]’, ‘my piece’... You are so intolerable Tommy.”

“Then why are you here, love?” He retorted flippantly but her next words made him stop his work.

“He knows…”

“Who knows what, [Y/N]?”

“Robert… he found your waistcoat under the bed… the one you forgot to put on because of some ‘important’ business.” She confessed, her voice shaky. She paused and then opened her mouth to continue, her voice cracking. “He didn't even ask who it belonged to. He said that it didn't matter. He blamed himself, you know…For being gone so often.”

Tommy kept staring at the papers on his desk, completely still. He didn't know what kind of response she was expecting but his mind went blank. He was about to say something when she dropped the final bomb. “He's asked me to marry him.”

Her eyes finally rose up from the floor. He could feel her willing him to look back at her; willing him to show any emotion. But the man kept staring at his desk, forcing himself to pick up the document and continue his letter.

“I haven't answered him yet.” She admitted, “I had to come here first. I had to see you, but you've been avoiding me and… I just need to know if you feel anything, anything at all for me.” She waited for him to respond, waited for any sign from him but he was as cold as ice and just as frozen as he signed his name at the end of his letter.

He continued his work robotically and took a breath only after hearing her footsteps shuffling closer to the door. “I meant what I said that night… I still do.” She whispered and then she was gone, missing the look that crossed his face.

After crying her heart out, [Y/N] kept staring at the end of the room blankly, her mind still stuck on everything that has happened in her life recently. “I am stronger than this.” She whispered to herself. Her head fell against the back of the couch, and she curled a leg up beside her, wrapping her arms around it as she glanced out the window.

It never should have happened, she knew that now, but she still couldn't bring herself to regret that it had. It had all started about six months ago, she and Robert had been having a lot of arguments around that time.

“You promised!” She raised her voice, fed up with his attitude.

“I know babe but this is urgent.” Robert said softly, trying to pacify her but it made her angrier instead.

“Fine. Go wherever you want to. Do whatever you want. But I am not going to keep changing my plans according to you every time. I am going to attend the Christmas Eve party… with or without you.”

“No. You can't do that [Y/N]. What will they say? My reputation will be thrashed.”

“Oh I can and I will. If you care about your ‘reputation’ then come to the event with me.” She asked one last time but only got a shake of head in return as Robert took his briefcase and left.

There at the party, [Y/N] found herself in the company of none other than Thomas Shelby, the Birmingham gangster turned businessman turned politician. Though she didn't trust him, she couldn't disagree that the man was charming. A few drinks later, she found herself up against a wall in one of the vast deserted hallways, moaning and thoroughly enjoying herself with a man that most definitely was not her boyfriend. That was how it all started.

Secret correspondence and casual meetings followed. Every time she would receive one of his notes or calls, she would hesitate and every time she gave in. She couldn't stop herself; he made her feel passionate, naughty, and desirable. It was everything she never felt with Robert thus she became addicted.

Over time, their Pattern seemed to change. It started with simple words after they were intimate and soon she found herself spending nights in his house. It went to a point where she would see Robert maybe once in two or three weeks for a date and spend almost every other day with Tommy.

After sometime she realized that her feelings for the two men had begun to change. Tommy had become her confidant and lover. On the other hand she found herself forgetting about the dates with Robert, arriving late when he called her, zoning out when he talked to her. She was figuring out what to do when the unexpected happened.

They were lying in his bed, quietly content after a night full of activity when her lips, engaged by a sleepy mind, betrayed her. “I think… I am falling for you.” Time froze. In one swift movement, her lover had stood from the bed and had placed his robe around his shoulders. He turned his back to her, making it clear that he didn't want to talk.

She remembered how she had sat there; hurt and humiliated beyond belief. It had taken all the strength and courage that she could muster to get dressed and leave that night. That was two weeks ago.

Truth to be told, when Robert had found Tommy's waistcoat under her bed, she felt relieved. Everything would be out in the open, she could move on but once again reality turned out to be quite different than her thoughts. Robert opened up to her about his behaviour and promised to work less, be with her more and that he wanted to marry her. Before she could blink, he was down on his knee, proposing to her.

“I… I need time, Robert.”

Now here she was, lamenting unrequited love and cursing her fate.

A week later -

[Y/N] pushed open the door of her flat with a tired sigh. She tossed her shoes into their space in her coat closet with one hand as she released the clip that held her hair with the other. Moving towards the kitchen cabinet, she uncorked the wine bottle and took a sip directly from the bottle.

“Long day?” A deep voice asked her.

She turned on her feet and observed the man in front of her. Tommy was sitting on the couch as if he owned the place. “What. Do. You. Want?” She asked slowly, proud of the bitterness in her voice. “Tommy…”

He didn't verbally respond; calling her to him with a gesture of his hands. She wanted to shout at him but she couldn't. He made her weak. He reached up with his fingers for her left hand, his thumb brushing over the diamond that sat there.

“I'm engaged…” She tried to stop the teasing fingertips from continuing their journey of exploring her body.

“Well… you're not married yet. It's just a ring.” He whispered, holding her face to make her look at him. She felt the pads of his fingertips gripping the ring on her third finger and slowly sliding it off. A metallic clink resonated in her ears as the ring fell to the floor.

The fight drained out of her as she sunk into her lover's arms. Her knees folding under her as his lips joined with hers. She knew that this night would be their final goodbye.

“Where is your engagement ring?”

“I… I must have forgotten it.”

“Forgotten it? On the night of our engagement party?” Robert questioned incredulously. They were interrupted by some other guests and they easily fell into the conversation, saving [Y/N] from trying to come up with more lies.

“How are you doing, Walker?” another voice interrupted the couple. Robert cursed seeing the person who disturbed his conversation with his fiancèe.

“How did you even enter Shelby? This is an invitation only party so kindly leave.”

Thomas smirked, raising his closed fist over [Y/N]'s glass of champagne. One by one he uncurled his fingers, dropping something small and shiny. Robert had a look of confusion and shock on his features as he realized that in the glass was [Y/N]'s engagement ring.

“I know I wasn't invited Walker, but I am here to collect what's mine… don't look so shocked. She hasn't been yours for a while.”

Before she could think, Robert punched Thomas, hard… and a fight started between the two. Robert's parents changed the topic and sent the guests on their way to save their image of respectful people. It wasn't until [Y/N] physically pulled Tommy back that he stopped. Even though Robert was a few centimetres taller than Tommy, he was no match for his muscles and strength.

“When did this… this thing start? Tell me everything, [Y/N]… honestly this time.” Robert pleaded.

“Six months ago. I was angry at you and I know it is wrong but… when I did go to the party, alone, no one paid any attention to me. Didn't even greet me with a simple ‘hello’. I felt as though I was only someone if I was with you. I felt so worthless. Tommy was at the party. He annoyed me and I took my anger out on him… I don't know how but the next thing I remember is kissing him; one thing lead to another and here we are… I am sorry Robert. I don't deserve you.”

Robert scoffed. He left immediately after throwing the ring down. His mouth did not say a word but his eyes conveyed the anger and hurt he was feeling.

[Y/N] turned to Tommy. “Well. It was a long day. Thank you for ruining my engagement party. Now I think we should go.” She stood from her chair but Tommy pulled her back by her wrist, making her sit on his lap. “What is it?” She asked him.

“You asked me that day, if I feel anything at all for you. The answer is, I don't. I feel everything for you, Miss [Y/N] [Y/L/N].” He said cupping her face in his hands and pressed his lips on hers.

She smiled in their kiss knowing for sure that the man whom she gave her heart to would do everything in his power to keep her safe and happy now that he finally realised what she meant to him.

THE END.

Find the Theo version here.

#tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfiction #𝐣 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

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sturniolowhore · 4 months

Note

blushing at my screen over your series of chris and venus.. how many more parts are there gonna be 🤭🤭

☁️ BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND #4

summary ⎯ venus has had her eyes on her brother's best friend chris for as long as she can remember but she is far too scared that's all she is to him, his best friend's little sister. what happens when she realises he sees her in a different light and how will she and chris keep it hidden from her brother who has always told his friends never to meddle about with his sister.

part one! ♯ part two! ♯ part three! part five! ♯

part six!

warnings ⎯ suggestive and sexual, eventual smut, chris x fem!oc, fluff, cursing, kind of angst (?)

A/N ⎯ finally working on something with parts to it so i'm excited!! as a reminder, leo and venus do not exist irl, i just chose any random names for the sake of the story.

A/N FOR CHAPTER ⎯ thank you so much first of all and i think they'll be two more part after this 😊 i'm sorry this is so short but lil moment at the end 😇

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

chris 🤍

leo told me he's out for the day

saturn 🪐

yeah he is?

chris 🤍

sounds like the perfect time for me to come over again :)

saturn 🪐

that could happen

chris 🤍

saturn come on i know you want me just as much as i want you

saturn 🪐

it sounds like a really good idea

chris 🤍

that's what i thought

saturn 🪐

lilo misses you

chris 🤍

lilo misses me or you miss me?

saturn 🪐

maybe a bit of both?

chris 🤍

i'll be over in fifteen😇

saturn 🪐

already undressing

chris 🤍

venus.

saturn 🪐

relax i'm joking ... or am i

chris 🤍

you have to follow through with that now or it's just disrespectful

saturn 🪐

the doors unlocked

chris 🤍

good fucking girl

saturn 🪐

mhm 😊

things between chris and venus have been good, very good actually. it's been a little while since their confessions in the kitchen and they've managed to sneak around perfectly undetected and see one another as they desire. of course it's a little hard when they can't just reach out and touch one another for the sake of it when others are around but they know their reasoning so they tolerate it. plus, it makes the moments they actually spend together that much more special, that much more craved.

chris drives with a smile on his face, his hands clutching the wheel and images of venus flashing in his head. she's always been a resident in his mind but ever since he found out his feelings for her were reciprocated, it's as though she lives in his head permanently. he's not complaining though; he'd think about her forever if he could and he's not even exaggerating.

maybe it's the small mounts of traffic in contrast to usual or maybe it's just the fact that he really wants to see her, whatever it is, he swears he makes it to her house in no time. he parks the car in the driveway, carefree because leo isn't home, and then approaches the door. his smile grows when he twists the handle and, true to venus' words, the door is unlocked and welcoming him flawlessly with open arms.

he makes a beeline straight for her room and the sight before him when he steps inside quite literally makes his jaw drop. he's in complete and utter awe. he's fucking speechless. venus is sitting on her bed in a navy blue set that makes her brown skin stand out like never before and hugs her curves perfectly. she's looking at her phone and biting at her lip and chris wants to replace her teeth with his immediately.

she doesn't even notice him at first, too busy looking at her phone, until he speaks up, "holy fucking shit saturn."

her eyes shoot up as soon as the words leave his mouth and she gives him a sheepish grin, shutting her phone and tossing it aside, "you like it?"

"like it? i fucking love it; god you're so sexy," he mumbles, already getting turned on at the mere sight of her.

he wastes no time in joining her on her bed, his hand quick to wrap itself around her throat whilst his lips fight with hers. a groan falls from his lips as she slides her tongue into his mouth and he lets her do all the work for a brief moment before his tongue takes over, swirling inside her mouth and then swiping over her teeth. his teeth sink into her bottom lip and she whines at the contact, her hands gripping his t-shirt desperately.

"i missed you," he hums into her lips and she smiles so beautifully, he wants to repeat his words for an eternity.

"i missed you too," she responds and then throws her head back when his mouth attaches to her neck eagerly, sucking and grazing the skin not so gently.

"chris⎯ don't leave marks," she manages to breathe out and he knows they both deep down really want him to but they ultimately can't because how is she going to explain that to her brother?

he licks a stripe at her collarbone, "one day i'm gonna mark you up all over and you're going to say nothing about it."

"i can mark you up right now darling and no one would know except me," she tells him and he moves away from her throat, looking up into her eyes with the most lustful expression clouding his features.

"go on then, i'm not stopping you," his voice is low and she has no fucking choice but to oblige and so she instantly begins sucking at his skin, her hands holding his hair firmly and tugging at it making the prettiest whines slip out of him.

"need to be inside of you," he whispers and she connects their lips as he begins to remove his pants and boxers, the sight making her salivate instantly.

"take this off," she fiddles with his t-shirt but all he does is smirk in response.

"you do it ma," is all he needs to say for her to listen quickly, tugging the material over his head before reaching out her fingers and sliding paterns across his torso easily.

he takes the waistband of her thong in between his fingers, "as much as i love this, i'm gonna need it off so i can ruin you as much as i want."

it's off within seconds and he almost moans at how easily she complies, how evident her want is from her actions and the way she can't keep her hands off him for even a brief second.

his fingers move to her entrance and she moans but before he can dip them inside, she shakes her head, "please i just want you."

"don't want me to stretch you out a little?" he asks hesitantly but all she does is shake her head again in response.

he cannot complain in the slightest. he lines himself up at her entrance and stays there teasingly. she huffs out a frustrated breath before she decides to move herself and sinks down onto him. he moans at the sudden contact and his hands move to either side of her waist to steady her body.

"oh fuck, someone's a little desperate," he teases and she whines when he begins thrusting into her at a a slow rate.

"please chris," her words are said breathlessly as she moves against him.

he thrusts again but softly, "what is it ma? 'm gonna need you to use your words."

"please go faster," she whispers and he grins, increasing his pace and watching as her body jolts in delight and she throws her head back in pure ecstacy.

moans and whimpers fall out of her easily as he works his way inside of her, moaning himself at the tightness and the way the two of them slot together so perfectly. her hands stay in his hair as she bites at his earlobe, swirling her tongue across the skin and moaning directly into his ears.

his hands on the other end are quick to find her bra and he uses his fingers to remove it and throw it some place in the room. he attaches his mouth to her boobs and she sounds so beautiful with her noises, he can't help but make his pace merciless. he feels her walls clench around him and he knows she's close, just like he is. he slaps at her ass and she falls into his chest, breathing heavily and grinding onto him to her help her get closer to her release.

"you feel so fucking good around me," he whispers into her ears as he shifts, hitting that spot and causing her to release a string of curses at the feeling.

"chris 'm so close," she tells him and her needy voice alone could make him cum on the spot.

"c'mon ma, cum with me," and that she does, clinging onto him and panting as they cum together and meet in the middle.

her eyes flutter shut and she falls into his chest with him still inside of her. he strokes his hand through her hair and she hums contently at the gentle comfort.

"you okay?" he asks softly and she nods eagerly, lifting her head to kiss him gently and smiling against his lips.

he can't help but smile in return. he's just so happy he gets to have her after years of wanting to have her. to be frank, it's a surreal experience mangled with the best emotions he's ever felt in his life. he just enjoys existing with her and times like these make him consider how thankful he is that they actually were able to communicate and display what they wanted.

when they're all cleaned up and clothed, laying beside one another in bed with a movie playing from the television, he watches her discretely. her eyes are glued to the screen and there's a slight crinkle in between her eyebrows due to her concentration. there's something so effortless about the way she carries herself and he finds himself mesmerised whenever he so much as looks at her or even thinks of her.

"what are you looking at?" her voice interrupts him and he smiles sheepishly at being caught flat out staring.

still, when he answers though, he isn't embarrassed in the slightest, "you're so cute."

"shut up," she shakes her head at him but the words are contradicted when he sees the way her eyes light up and he notices how the distance between them decreases even more, if possible that is.

their embrace is thoroughly tight and he feels safe in it and he knows she does too. he doesn't want to escape it. he could die intertwined with her and die a happy man.

lilo walks into the room and settles in the small space between them, half of her on either of them as they continue to watch the screen. chris honestly admires venus the entire time and the question lingering on his mind gets closer and closer to being said aloud whenever she smiles.

"venus..." he says into the air and she turns to look at him with the most adoring look in her eyes, he swears he's never felt more seen.

"i like it when you call me venus," she swipes her fingers across his hand and how can chris possibly turn back on the thoughts in his mind when she says something like that so casually?

"wanna hear it more?" he ponders and she raises her brows in amusement, leaving him to continue with whatever he's saying.

"look i know it sucks that we have to keep this a secret but i really like you venus," he pauses and the pureness in her eyes makes him want to never stop talking, "i'd really like to be your boyfriend."

he thinks his breathing short circuits in the silence of the room until she beams at him, pulling him into one of her infamous kisses that makes him feel like he's above every other thing in the universe. he feels like he's on fire whenever they're together and instead of trying to put the fire out, he's jumping into it feet first because he knows venus is burning with him and that makes it all worth it. he's lighting up in flames and his insides are hot but he's glowing with affection and that's exactly what he desires so he doesn't quite mind.

"i'd really like to be your girlfriend too," her voice is so fucking sweet, he feels like he's watching the pour of honey before his very eyes.

"and with lee, we'll tell him soon okay?" he just knows exactly what to say because he's aware venus is worrying about his reaction.

the longer they leave it a secret, the madder he'll inevitably be. it's not as though leo doesn't want venus and chris to be happy, he just doesn't want to ever get between them. chris is his best friend and has been for as long as he can remember and venus is his sister, the person he'd die for without hesitation. the idea of something happening between them to the point it strains his own relationships with them scares him. that's why he tells his friends venus is off limits, because he can't handle having to watch the people he loves the most not love one another or end up hurting one another.

"it's going to be okay," he reiterates and she believes him without another word because it's him.

but then it's like her world flips upside down and the universe is mocking her when she hears footsteps outside of her room. her heart fucking plummets and the sound of a fist tapping at her door is enough to drive her to insanity.

"vee, can i come in? did chris leave his car here or something?" leo asks from the other side of the door.

shit. shit. holy fucking shit.

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starcrossedxwriter · 11 months

Text

Built for Love Part 6 (MBJ x Famous OC)

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of past experience with DV

A/N: I'm really excited about this one because… we are getting some fluff and smut with minimal to no angst lol love that for them! Enjoy!

“So how’s shit with Charlotte going?” Calliet asked, the loud crack of the pool table filling the air as Michael took his first shot.

“You mean, Els, get that shit right nigga,” Stello interjected, snickering lightly as Michael rolled his eyes at him. If there was one thing his friends were always going to do, it was make fun of his romantic side.

Michael let out a low chuckle, choosing to let his best friend’s comment pass him by without a retort. “We’re good. She’s… she’s good.”

“You sure? Cause you don’t seem sure.” His friends immediately picked up on the pause in his words.

“Nah, she is good. Great actually. I’m gonna sound crazy sayin’ this but she’s the one.”

“Nigga, it’s been three months. Relax, my guy.”

Michael shrugged. “When you know, you know. And I know that shit. It’s just…” Michael scratched his head. He had not told his friends about Charlotte’s past yet. He questioned whether it was his place to do so, to share details of her life she did not offer up herself. It seemed that only her family and closest friends knew the truth and he did not want to spread it around. However, he could not deny that he could use a sounding board as he navigated such murky waters. And he was not a man who was afraid to talk with his boys about his problems and be vulnerable. He decided he would just keep it vague, the details were Charlotte’s story to tell. “Things really are good. It’s just this shit from her past that comes up occasionally. Her ex was abusive.”

“Oh shit. For real?”

“Fuck.”

“He hit her?”

Michael shook his head. “Yea. The couple things she told me were fuckin’ insane. And I don’t think I’ve heard the worst of it. If I ever see that nigga…” He let out a deep exhale as he clenched his fists. Michael was far from a violent person, he could not even tell you the last time he even had a desire to get into a fight with anyone. Everyone in his orbit, including himself, would describe him as the calming force in a room, he always had the ability to keep his emotions in check. However, if he thought too long or too hard about Shaun Parker, all he could feel was rage. And the only action he could think of was ripping him limb from limb.

“Damn, that’s tough. How is she doin’?”

“Most of the time, she’s great. She’s herself. You know she’s shy and reserved in front of other people but once she’s comfortable, she’s so energetic and fun to be around. She’s charming but still has that cute awkward shit goin’ on that keeps her real and honest, fuckin’ hilarious. But the rest… I’ll say or do somethin’ that triggers her and she seems terrified of me but doesn’t know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like it’s not a conscious thing but I can feel it wafting off of her sometimes. The first time, she broke a wine glass at my place by accident, got red wine on the rug. She’s clumsy as fuck. But I don’t care. It’s actually kinda cute. And shit happens. It’s just a fuckin’ rug. By the time she came over again, I had a new one already. She looked like she had seen a ghost, pale and freaked out. She apologized a hundred times. Her hands were shakin’ so hard, she couldn’t even pick up the glass. A couple weeks ago, she forgot we made dinner plans, same thing. And it wasn’t a big deal at all. I actually preferred it cause I was tired as hell. We ordered in and just talked. But I could feel her whole body tense like she was waiting for me to lash out at her. We were out last week, she was chatting with the waiter while I took a call. She was like an entirely different person when I got back to the table. And I wasn’t thinkin’ twice about who the fuck she talked to. But in her mind, she committed a crime or some shit.”

“That shit’s heavy,” Calliet offered as he rounded the pool table for his shot. “Seems like small shit to us but to her, it means a whole other thing. How you dealing’ with it? I know that shit bothers you.”

Michael scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink. “Of course it fuckin’ bothers me. To have the woman I love seem terrified of me, terrified I would even consider hurting her like that? Shit is frustrating. But I dunno. I did all this research on how to be supportive and been slowly tryin’ to add that in. But I dunno. Just worried it isn’t enough.”

“Want my two cents?” Steelo offered. Michael was usually weary of taking relationship advice from his best friend. Steelo’s longest committed relationship amounted to months. But he also never pretended he wanted anything else, he was more than happy living the single bachelor life. Michael decided to just hear him out. If it was bad, which it was likely to be, he would just ignore it.

“Hit me.”

“I know I was anti-Charlotte after everything went down in Philly but this the happiest I’ve ever seen you. I think you gotta just keep showing up and maybe, actually talk to her? Research is great, google is your best friend. And you can do all that. But you also gotta know what she needs and the only person who can tell you that is her. Ask her, give her time to figure out what she needs from you, and then do those things in addition to the other shit. And I know it sounds crazy but maybe she also just has to hear you say that shit. You know… assurances and all that… women love that shit.”

Michael glanced at Calliet who merely shrugged. “Hey, I agree with him. Broken clock is right twice a day.”

The men laughed a bit at Michael’s friend’s expense before the only married man in the group added, “Nah but forreal. The kid is right. Talk to her. Ask her how you can make her more comfortable and go from there.”

“That might be the first solid dating advice you’ve given me.”

“Check back in another decade, I might have more.”

***

“Dinner was delicious, babe. You know when you said you could cook, I definitely thought you were lying.”

Michael chuckled. “My momma taught me a thing or two. Said she wasn’t raisin’ niggas who couldn’t throw down in the kitchen.”

She nodded. “Well, shout out to your mom. The women of the world, particularly this one,” she pointed at herself. “Thank her.”

He brought her a plate with a piece of chocolate cake on it, his favorite. He smiled as she did a little happy dance in her seat. His girl most certainly had a sweet tooth.

“Don’t tell me you made this too? Cause then I might have to marry you,” she joked.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby,” he winked at her and smirked, causing her to roll her eyes. “But nah, my sister would kill me if I took credit for that. She’s the baker. I’m hopeless with desserts. It’s my favorite thing of hers. ”

“Then we are a perfect pair. You can cook and I’ll make dessert.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he kissed the top of her head before settling back in his seat.

He watched her eat for a few minutes, enjoying her facial expressions and small but distinct sounds of delight with every bite. She was clearly in heaven. But tonight had not just been about showing his girl a fun time and cooking for her, it was also about broaching a difficult conversation and putting his friends’ advice into action.

“Hey, Els.”

“What’s up?”

He held out his hand for hers, his thumb going to rub the inside of her wrist. He started doing it more often after their dinner date fiasco, realizing that she seemed to respond well to it. It was a small and gentle touch, but every time he did, her body visibly relaxed and seemed more at ease instinctually.

“What do you need from me to feel more comfortable and safe?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow in confusion, her spoon gently clattering against the slide of her plate as she sat it down. “What prompted that question, Mr. Jordan?”

“Well, I just know this is your first relationship since everything. There are triggers and shit that are gonna come up. And that’s ok, I know it all takes time. I just… I want to assure you that I ain’t him. And I would never hurt you. And whatever you need me to do to help you believe that and feel you know, more at ease, I’ll do it.”

Charlotte’s heart melted for a moment before her own guilt set in. She tried not to think much about her triggers. They happened far too often. And each time, she would curse herself for it, profusely remind herself that Michael was not her ex, and swear to herself that it wouldn’t happen again. However, it always did and it felt like by the time she saw it coming, it was too late to stop it. However, what she never wanted to do was make him believe she thought he was like Shaun. She knew that was not the case in her heart, mind, and soul. However, she knew, as the famous book and her therapist constantly reminded her, the body kept a different score, kept a laundry list of every beating, every humiliating and degrading moment. She may have pushed the memories out of her mind but every single one was still etched in her bones. And she could not force that out of herself, it would only take time.

She clenched her eyes shut for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry, Bakari. I-I never want you to feel like I think you’d hurt me or something. I know… I know that isn’t you.”

He shook his head. “Hey. Don’t apologize. I didn’t bring it up to blame you. Your past is part of you and I know it ain’t shit you can just turn on and off when it’s convenient. That’s why I want to know how I can help?”

Charlotte stood up, abandoning her cake to join him across the table, sitting on his lap. Her hand settled against his cheek, her fingers playing with his coarse facial hair.

“There is nothing you need to change, Michael. A-and I’m not just saying that. You’re everything I could hope for. And you treat me better than I could’ve dreamed for myself. I guess…” She paused. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be trying to be in a relationship again. I’m not afraid of you. But when you live in constant fear for so long, it sort of becomes part of you. It guided every decision, every choice, every action… every second of every day. And I think, sometimes, even though I know in my soul you aren’t him, that fear is still there in my bones. And when it hits, I don’t even realize it until it feels like I’m drowning in it. A-and I’m sorry for that because I know it’s not fair to you. I’m trying really, I promise.” She clenched her eyes shut for a moment, afraid of where this conversation might actually be headed. “B-But if it’s too much for you, I u-understand. I c-can’t expect you to stick around forever while I figure o-out my -”

“Love, stop. Breathe. That’s not what this is at all. I’m here until you get sick of me, baby girl.” He peppered her face with pecks causing her to laugh. “And don’t apologize to me cause I don’t need it or want it. I just want you to be ok and happy with me, not worried when some other shoe is gonna drop. If there’s nothing, great. But if there is, I just want to know it. We don’t gotta discuss it tonight. I have a whole surprise waiting for you downstairs. Ain’t tryin’ ruin it. But just promise me, if you ever feel like you do need something from me to feel safer o-or I’m doing something that makes you feel unsafe, promise me you’ll tell me.”

She pressed her lips to his. She appreciated that he was not shying away from her reality, that he was jumping in to address the hard things. She would not have blamed him if he wanted to end things but he was still here, still loving her and wanting to work through the kinks of their relationship. If he was willing to have hard conversations, she had to be willing too. She could not just will all of this away, she had to actively work on it.

“I promise.”

“Aight, good. Now we got the hard stuff outta the way, wanna follow me to the basement?”

“Are you gonna tell me what the surprise is? I thought you cooking for me and the food not killing me was the surprise?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. And nah, I’m beginning to think you really don’t know what surprise means.”

“I know what it means, I just like to be in the know.”

“Alright, close your eyes.”

“Bakari…” she whined.

“Just do it, Els. Damn, you never listen to a nigga,” he mumbled.

She winked at him before acquiescing to his wishes and closing her eyes.

One hand held onto hers while his free hand settled on her hip as he led her downstairs and around a corner to his movie room.

“Ok, open.”

She opened her eyes to find the room completely different from the last time she came down there. Giant cozy pillows and blankets draped like a tent covered the floor, a whole set up of popcorn and other snacks and two cocktail glasses waiting for them.

“I know you’re kind of a homebody so a more creative spin on dinner and a movie?” He offered with a shrug.

“You did all this??”

“Yea, I remember you mentioned once on set that you and your siblings used to have movie nights and make forts in your basement.”

She giggled as he led her to the perfectly constructed tent in his basement. He essentially turned his downstairs into a campground, with soft lightening and cushy blankets and pillows littering the floor around his flat screen tv.

“This is far better than any fort we made.”

It clearly had taken him and perhaps a team of people time to set it all up. It was beautiful. She leaned over and picked up a pack of gummy bears, her favorite. “You didn’t have to do all this for me,” she whispered. “It’s too much.”

Michael shook his head. “Nothing is ever too much for you. Besides, press tour is in what, two weeks? We’re gonna be busy so we gotta enjoy the time together while we can.”

Michael went to the bar to pull out a pitcher of mojitos before he got situated in their fort next to her.

“Not gonna lie. I’m kinda looking forward to it. It’ll be my first real press tour.”

“I’m about to be all your work firsts, then?”

Charlotte nodded as she took a sip of the cocktail Michael made for her.

“Yea and some personal ones, I’m sure,” she muttered under her breath, thinking back to the conversation with her friends.

“What’s that mean?”

She let out a nervous laugh and shook her head. “Nothing, nothing at all.” She turned the gummy bears toward him, allowing him to take a handful before she snuggled into his side.

The pair snuggled and joked as they watched Bad Boys, a movie that made it onto both of their top five movies lists. Their banter carried them through most of the film, the pair analyzing and offering their two cents as if they were experts on thwarting criminals. The pair made their way through an obscene amount of snacks and a pitcher of mojitos as they watched the first movie and its sequel.

“Those drinks were so good,” she muttered as she examined the now-empty pitcher, a small pout on her features. “If this whole acting thing doesn’t work out, you could be a bartender for sure.”

Michael laughed and rubbed her thigh. “You wanna just crash here? You shouldn’t drive home after all that. And it’s already late as hell,” he remarked, glancing at his watch to find it was almost 1 am.

She shrugged and winked at him. “Jokes on you… that was alllllll part of the plan. Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

“Damn, you just usin’ a nigga for a comfortable bed??”

“Not just the bed… Comfortable bed, free meals, cuddly oversized sweatshirts,” she listed on her fingers with a sly smile.

“You know I’m good for other things too,” he whispered with a smirk on his face, his fingers drawing featherlike patterns on her exposed thigh that sent chills down her spine. She knew exactly what he was suggesting and she did not know if it was the liquor or just the overall effect he had on her body, but she wanted to know what those things were. She wanted more. More of him, more of his touch, more of his love. And she did not want to wait a single moment longer.

And she did not want the night to end, their last true moment of solitude before life picked up again. They would be traveling and exhausted for a month. Though she was excited to spend her first press run with him, she knew it would not be true alone time. It would be work and since they were not a public couple yet, they would have to exercise some discretion.

She threw caution to the wind and straddled his hips, ignoring his surprised look as she took charge of the moment. She kissed him before nibbling on his ear and whispering, “Why don’t you show me?”

Usually, those words would have had Michael ripping a woman’s clothes off within milliseconds. However, despite the lust coursing through him, he forced himself to pause and confirm her wishes. Once he knew Charlotte wanted to take it slow, he always made sure to pump the brakes before things got too hot and heavy between them. No matter how hard it was - and it was excruciatingly hard - it was one of his many attempts to show Charlotte that he understood and respected her boundaries and subtly remind her she had agency in their relationship. He never wanted her to feel pressured to do something she did not want to do because she was conditioned never to say no. He wanted her to know she was steering the ship and he was fine with whatever speed she chose.

Admittedly, this was the longest he ever waited for a woman to sleep with him. They were well into month three and had not progressed past heated make out sessions. However, Michael, honestly, did not mind. He longed to bury himself inside her, to taste her, to show her pleasure she had never known before. But he knew it would be more enjoyable for both of them if she was truly ready for it.

Michael’s eyes grew wide with surprise as her statement settled in his brain matter. He leaned back over her, his soft hand cupped her cheek and held her eyes to his.

“You sure? We don’t gotta do anything you aren’t ready for, Els. And we been drinkin’ and shit. I’ll wait as long as you want, love.”

Charlotte offered him a soft smile. “I know. And it’s very sweet and it makes me love you even more if that’s even fucking possible,” she let out a nervous laugh. “I trust you a-and I want you. That’s all I need. So I am very ready for you to break my back like you promised.”

Michael chuckled and kissed her on the neck softly.

“You sure?”

Charlotte knew she would not find the words to describe how desperately she needed him. It was no longer a want that could be diminished by her anxieties and fears, it was a need. A need that felt as fundamental to her survival as oxygen to her lungs and sustenance to her body. His willingness to take it slow and respect her boundaries, the ways he went out of his way to make her feel safe and desired daily only increased her lust. So she decided to show him through action.

“Yes…” she reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it over her shoulders, thankful she decided to wear a matching bra and panty set. She had no intention, originally, of their date night taking this specific turn but she was grateful nonetheless. She felt empowered and assured in her decision as she watched his reaction, pure lust and desire taking over his features.

He licked his lips before he captured hers again. She moaned as his hands enjoyed free reign of her body, softly kneading and gripping her ass and thighs. She could feel the desire pooling between her legs, the movie playing on the tv long forgotten. She did not stop him as he flipped her onto her back, his chest pressed against hers as he sucked on the soft skin of her neck.

Michael took his time as he kissed her, paying close attention to every moan and groan, his ears perking up when he hit a sweet spot. He wanted to know every intricacy of what she liked and just how she liked it. His path of kisses and gentle nips down her body was deliberate and slow, he savored how her whimpers became needier as he went. But he did not speed up. He was determined, desired to see her come undone piece by piece, and that was a process he could not rush.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as his lips lingered against one of her scars, knowing they made her insecure about her appearance.

By the time he reached her lower stomach, her whimpers had turned to pants of need. Charlotte had never experienced foreplay like this before. She did not understand how he was already so attentive, the way he seemed to immediately respond to her body, picking up on cues Charlotte would not have been able to articulate herself. If her body was an instrument, Michael seemed to already be a savant, hitting the right notes with every caress and touch. It was a slow march and Charlotte was feigning for the main event, feigning for him to fill her.

Michael finally detached his lips from her body and made quick work of removing her thong.

“All this for me?” He whispered as he licked his lips as he admired the wetness between her thighs.

He spread her legs and licked his lips before kissing her inner thighs. Charlotte almost saw God when he added in a gentle bite, sending sparks of pleasure through her. With every passing second, his lips got closer and closer to the treasure between her thighs, a coveted meal Michael had been waiting months to taste.

However, realizing his intention, Charlotte immediately felt the first wave of anxiety and insecurity hit her, pulling her out of the moment and mind-numbing fog of pleasure.

“W-what are you doing?” She breathed out, stopping his path toward her core.

“About to get a taste,” he muttered as he continued kissing her inner thighs.

Charlotte squirmed for a moment before quietly offering. “Y-You don’t have to do that… if you don’t want to.”

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. There was literally nothing he wanted more in this world at this moment. “I definitely want to. What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just never…” She scratched her forehead and kept her eyes trained on the ceiling. It was embarrassing and she did not really want to say it out loud. Similar to her lack of an orgasm, she had also never revealed to anyone that her sexual experience was severely lacking in terms of receiving pleasure. Giving? She was good at it and enjoyed it occasionally. But she had always been the giver and now could not even fathom what receiving felt like. She knew, based on conversations with her girlfriends, that she was missing something spectacular and life changing. But the mental block was there and she found it hard to want it. “Never mind, it’s embarrassing.”

Michael chuckled. “Aint shit to be embarrassed about with me, baby.” He kissed her softly on the lips.

“No one’s ever given me…”

Her words died in her throat but Michael did not need her to finish the sentence. He knew exactly what she was trying to say and shocked was an understatement. He had jerked himself off more times than he would ever admit dreaming of her paradise, what she tasted like, and what sounds she would make when he finally found himself in that promised land. And to think that no one had ever taken the time or care to give her that pleasure angered him more than it should have. He supposed he should be happy he was the first one to give her that experience but he hated that her sex life prior to him had been so lacking.

“You trust me?”

She nodded immediately. “Of course.”

“Ok, then just lay back and relax for me, aight? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. But I don’t think you’re gonna want me to stop.” He offered her a knowing wink.

Michael was not a man who begrudgingly engaged in foreplay simply because it was required. The build up was his favorite part of the experience, knowing he was giving his partner exactly what they needed and wanted, worshiping her body like the queen she was. He would bask in every moment of proving to her that he wanted to do this task more than anything else.

“Always so cocky,” she muttered with a smile.

“And you love that shit,” he shot back as they traded playful jabs. “Now relax… and let me take care of you.”

Michael’s hands pushed open Charlotte’s legs, her pussy glistening with need.

Not wanting to waste another second, he leaned in and enveloped her clit into his mouth, sucking gently.

Charlotte let out a deep moan, a moan so visceral and carnal, she did not even know she could produce such a sound. But she didn't even know her body could feel pleasure like this and he was only just getting started.

It seemed Michael was right about one thing, she most certainly did not want him to stop.

Michael poured his whole soul into his ministrations, pulling out every trick he knew to send Charlotte over the edge. He licked and sucked, spelling out all his love and adoration with every caress of his tongue. He savored every moan and groan, every plea for him to go faster.

“Fuck… B-Bakari… p-please don’t stop.”

Unnecessary directions, in his opinion, he could do this all night.

Charlotte’s eyes clenched shut as she grabbed one of the plush pillows on the floor and moaned into it, suddenly remembering that Michael’s parents lived with him.

“Put the pillow down,” he emerged from her legs to demand. “Room’s soundproof, I promise. I wanna hear you.”

She immediately tossed it to the side as she rode the waves of pure passion and ecstasy his mouth provided. She was not sure where to concentrate as every pleasure sensor in her body felt like it was on fire. She was overwhelmed and yet, she wanted more. She wanted to drown in it, drown in this feeling that seemed to never end. Every time, she felt as if she must be reaching its peak, he pushed her higher and higher.

His eyes never left her face as he devoured what would now be classified as his favorite meal. The moment she came, he wanted to see it. Every sound she made only spurred him on as he inched her closer and closer to her mountain top.

Charlotte felt her world go dark, everything in her snapped as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She felt as if she was in fog, Michael’s voice distant and quiet as she experienced her first orgasm. She felt as if he had just altered the course of her life at that moment. She wondered if this was what rebirth felt like and how she had ever lived without this unfiltered… bliss. She let out a stream of curse words as she rode out her orgasm, Michael offering her praise that she could barely register.

“That’s it, Els. Cum for me.”

He emerged from between her legs and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself.

“You taste so good, baby. So sweet,” he offered as he gave her a few moments to settle down. .

“T-that was…” She struggled to find the words as her already slightly hoarse voice filled the space.

“You liked that, baby?” He asked, his deep voice sending jolts of pleasure down her body. His finger entered her, immediately curling into her g-spot causing her to gasp.

This man… was going to be the death of her, she decided.

“Y-Yes,” she whispered.

“You want more, Els?”

She nodded fervently. Michael pushed himself off the floor and quickly stripped down, his manhood standing at attention for the woman he loved.

Her breath hitched slightly as she took in his length and girth. He settled himself between her legs before starting to push inside her.

She let out a groan of pain that made him pause, his eyes immediately filling with concern. He started to pull out when she wrapped her legs around his hips to stop him.

“N-No, don’t. I-it’s just been a couple years. That’s all. I’m good, promise.”

His forehead fell against hers as he slowly pushed inside her. His eyes did not leave hers, pausing his movements every time he saw an iota of discomfort or pain on her face. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, professed his love and adoration for her, told her how good she felt around him as he waited for her to adjust.

And once she gave him the ok, he started his slow and steady strokes into her.

“You feel so fucking good, baby” he muttered as the soft slapping sounds of their hips meeting filled his basement.

His dick curved right into her g-spot, forcing words of adoration and love from the depths of her soul at the end of every stroke. Her soft pants morphed into moans and screams of pleasure as she felt jolts of pleasure throughout her body.

“F-fuck, I l-love you,” she panted out. “Harder,” she demanded, Michel more than happy to oblige.

He increased his pace, relentlessly fucking her. She was thankful this portion of the house was soundproof, his basement soaking up the loud symphony of their collective moans. .

She could feel all of the love and adoration he held for her in every stroke, every affirmation he whispered into her ear as he sent her soul to another plane. All she could do was pant and cry out in pleasure as he promised to love her until his last day.

Michael’s physical fitness and stamina meant that they were just getting started. Michael and Charlotte moved around his basement, fucking on any and all surfaces that they saw fit. He transitioned between positions like an experienced dancer and pulled countless orgasms from the depth of her soul.

“Fuck. Just like that baby. Ride this dick,” he moaned. He let out a low growl as she rode him, he was in heaven as he buried his face in her chest, his mouth enveloping her nipple. He was surprised at how much she responded to it, her head falling back in pleasure, her mouth agape. She cried out in pleasure as he gently bit down on the swell of her breasts. He switched between the two, making sure to give each equal attention.

“You look so sexy riding my dick,” he praised her, causing her to increase her pace.

She ignored the burn in her thighs as she continued, her thoughts only focused on giving him the same pleasure he gave her. She loved this position. It made her feel emboldened and in charge. And so she decided to enjoy that feeling and switch it up, giving him another view to enjoy. She slid off of him, both of them groaning lightly at the feeling of emptiness while she repositioned herself in reverse cow girl and slid back onto his dick.

Michael smirked at the satisfied moan that escaped her lips as he filled her again. He grabbed her hips, thrusting into her rapidly as he enjoyed the view of her ass bouncing against his hips. He had let her control the pace before but now? It was his turn again. She yelped lightly as his hand spanked her. It was unexpected but not too rough, clearly to test the waters. She moaned, letting him know that she enjoyed it, the edge of roughness and small jolts of pain mixed in with his gentle touches.

“You like that, baby?” He asked as he spanked her again, his strong arms lifting her body up and down as if she weighed nothing.

“Y-Yes! I love it,” She panted out, breathless and exhausted as he fucked her. “I’m g-gonna cum!”

Her hands pressed against his stomach to hold herself up as she rode the length of her orgasm, her body barely staying up right. When she calmed down, he lifted her off of him and instructed her to get on all fours.

He positioned himself behind her and massaged her ass for a moment, admiring the perfect view.

“Arch your back for me, baby. That’s it, good girl.”

Charlotte could’ve cum right then, hearing him praise her.

Good girl, she wanted to hear that every day for the rest of her life.

She groaned as he entered her again, this position allowing him to get even deeper than before. Charlotte’s screams grew to new heights as he fucked her senseless from behind, taking her directive to break her back extremely serious. She was thankful that the strength of his thrusts naturally buried her face in the pillows of their now destroyed fort; she did not think even a soundproof room could contain her at this point.

In this moment, she realized exactly what Jazz meant: this was life-changing and fun. For the first time, she was not waiting for it to all be over, she was enjoying it, actively meeting his thrusts to increase her pleasure. And when his fingers dug into her hips to hammer into her at his own pace, like a man possessed, she was more than willing to surrender her entire being to him and let him give her exactly what he believed she needed. Because he actually knew, every action was meticulous and measured, attuned to needs she did not even know she had. But he did and she loved him for it. So she surrendered, surrendered to bliss, knew she would forever happily hand over the reins of her pleasure to him because she desperately wanted what he had to give.

“Why you running, baby?” He asked as he fucked her, her body instinctively shying away from the intense pleasure of another orgasm building too fast.

“I-I… I-it’s too much…” she breathed out, unable to form coherent sentences.

“You want me to stop?” He asked as he continued fucking relentlessly.

“N-no,” she whimpered, and it was true. Her body felt as if it may die if he stopped but also that another orgasm might kill her. In a split second decision, dying from pleasure seemed like the better way to go.

“Good girl. You’re taking me so well, love. Cum for me one more time, baby.”

As he felt her pussy snapping around his dick and her screams grew louder, he knew she was close. He reached around and rubbed her clit to give her the extra push she needed.

Charlotte let out a breathless scream, her vision going black as the most powerful orgasm of her life ran through her. She didn't even get to feel him cum inside her as he finally reached his own peak.

When she finally opened her eyes again, Michael was sitting watching her intently.

“Welcome back, almost had me worried for a minute. You ok?”

All she could do was nod, not understanding how he looked completely unruffled while she felt as if she had done a triathlon.

He held out his hand to help her up and slide his robe around her. She was surprised to find him already in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

“H-How long was I out?”

He laughed, kissing the top of her head. “Just a couple minutes. Come on, I’ll start a bath upstairs.”

She groaned as she tried to move her legs. “M-My legs don’t work, babe. N-Not gonna make it upstairs.”

He laughed and swooped her up into his arms. “Good thing you have me then.”

Charlotte snuggled into his chest as he carried her to his suite. He made quick work of filling the tub with hot water and helping her into the tub, the smell of eucalyptus, her favorite, filling her nose.

“This is sweet,” she said, her voice raspy from their activities. “T-thank you.” She settled into the bathtub, her head lulling back as her eyes fell closed. The warm water felt like heaven on her aching muscles.

“You feel ok? Was afraid I was too rough at the end?”

She let her head fall lazily in his direction, a content smile on her face. “No, it was great. Though I think you might've thought I was a gymnast at one point, really pushed the limits of my flexibility. And I now feel like I need to go to yoga classes so I don’t need to soak my muscles every time we have sex,” she laughed. “But it was perfect. You’re perfect.”

They shared a sweet kiss before silence fell over them. Charlotte did not stay in the tub long, her desire to be in Michael’s arms again overwhelming. Once she was done, Michael gave her clothes to throw on and they climbed into bed.

Michael’s head rested on her chest, both of them muttering soft I love you’s before they drifted off to sleep.

***

“Charlie!”

Charlotte's eyes gravitated toward a familiar voice, finally landing on Chris who had commandeered a corner booth toward the back and was waving at her.

“How are you??” Her voice took on a sing-songy tone as she hugged him before sitting across from him. “It’s been way too fucking long.”

“I know, I know. It’s tough. I’m rarely out here and you’re never in NYC anymore.” His voice was filled with teasing accusations as he referenced her disappearing act. “But I’m glad you were able to fit me in.”

The pair spent over a half hour catching up, Chris sharing gossip from the NYC theater scene that Charlotte was no longer in touch with. She considered Chris MacDonald to be one of her closest friends. He had been her mentor when she was at a school, he was a recent graduate working on his musical and worked with students in his free time. He was easily the most talented songwriter she had ever heard, his first musical becoming a staple on Broadway within months. Every song he touched turned to gold and money. They transcended the usual mentor-mentee relationship quickly, becoming good friends. Chris always vowed to make her his leading lady in one of his shows one day.

“So what are the next few months looking like for you?”

“We’re starting press for Creed out here next week. Then the premieres here and press and a premiere in Philly. We have a couple of events and things once it hits theaters and then I should get a break right before Christmas. Thankfully, since it is the first one, the press schedule isn’t insane. But it's still a lot.”

“So I gotta know, do you miss the stage at all?”

“All the time,” Charlotte moaned, her shoulders collapsing a bit. Chris was the type of person who knew the answer to his question before he asked it. So she knew there was no use in lying. “All. The. Time.” She emphasized. “Movies are great, don’t get me wrong. Can’t say anything too bad about them, after all, my first major film led me to Michael. Who you have to meet by the way. But it’s just not the same. It doesn’t… make my soul happy the way theater did? Money’s better,” Chris immediately nodded in agreement. “But that’s about it. Just doesn’t really fulfill me the same way.”

“Would you want to go back?”

An antenna in Charlotte’s mind went up as she heard his tone, his voice taking on the tenor of someone who was dipping a toe in to test the waters.

“Ummm yea, I mean I’d love to go back. But… the practicalities of it. Just don’t think it is in the cards for me.” She shook her head gently and picked up her coffee. The mug hid the sad smile she had on her face, a realization that her choices meant her dreams weren’t a possibility anymore. “Besides, there isn’t a theater director who knows my name who’d give me another chance.” She simply shrugged. “It’s cool though. My life’s out here now, new relationship’s out here, friends, family. It’s better this way.”

Chris nodded. “What if you were looking at a writer and producer who wanted you to be in their next show?”

Charlotte laughed, “Very funny, Chris.” She had heard about his next project through the grapevine, which just completed an off-Broadway run in Massachusetts and was picked up to perform on Broadway in the new year. His musical, The Lighthouse, followed the closing shift of a dive bar during a winter’s storm. It was one of those shows where the entire play takes place in a singular room, following four characters, the owner of the bar and his wife, and the main character, Ashley, and her ex, who is a bartender. Charlotte had only read reviews of it but every review praised Chris for his poignant examination of relationships, human connection, and the innate desire to fight for the things and one you love, even when the fight seems foolish and you are outnumbered.

“I’m being dead serious, Charlie. I know you’re about to start promo for the film so you wouldn’t get that break you’re looking forward to. But it premieres on Broadway in March. We are casting new folks since the off broadway cast is transitioning to other roles. And for the lead, I started with your name but didn’t think you’d want to come back. And after scouring my brain for months and chatting with other writers like Lin and all roads lead back to you. You’re perfect for it. Your voice, your skills… you would knock it out of the park.”

Charlotte shook her head, “Oh Chris… thank you but I can’t. It’s just not for me anymore.”

“The stage was made for you, girl. Look, I wasn’t trying to come here and beg you but I will if I have to. I want you, Charlie. Not some random girl no one has ever heard of… You, the woman who made me cry the first time I heard her sing, the woman with perfect pitch, a woman who's been through shit and knows how to bring that pain and vulnerability and channel it into a performance. Look, I could get any recent graduate from Juilliard or Yale and throw them in this show and it would be good. But I don’t want ‘good’. I want excellent and you are excellence. Just give me a year. One year. Not even a year,” he corrected himself as she shook her head. “Six months. Six months and you’ll be nominated for a Tony in 2017, maybe even 2016 depending on when they cut off the season. ”

At the sound of the coveted award Charlotte had dreamed of her entire life, Charlotte perked up. “How do you know it’s Tony worthy?”

“Because I wouldn’t have flown across the country to grovel at the feet of one of the greatest actresses and singers I’ve ever seen for anything less than a Tony-winning role. Six months to a year, max. Give me six months of your life, Charlie and I swear - you’re Grammy and Tony nominated at worst… two steps closer to an EGOT at best. Come on, don’t tell me you forgot? This was on the vision board you showed me when you were a plucky, annoying freshman. This is it, this is the opportunity to make that vision board come true.”

Just as Charlotte opened her mouth to rebut him, he stopped her. “Look, I gotta jet to another meeting. But don’t say no just yet, please? I promised the team I would have my Ashley by the time I got back home on Monday. I’ll send you the tracks, the video of the workshop, talk it over… pray on it, and get back to me in a few days. Just promise me you’ll think about it, Charlie. Please?”

Charlotte nodded weakly. “Fine… I’ll think about it.”

She knew logically there was nothing to think about. The mere idea went beyond playing with fire, it was playing with a raging inferno to move back there. For all she knew, Shaun was a mere powder keg waiting for the right spark to explode and she would be handing it to him on a silver platter. However, her soul and her ambition, well those parts of her were thinking… and they were thinking hard.

She said her goodbyes to Chris and paid for her coffee. And before she could even make it outside to her car, she heard the ding of several emails, all from Chris with the music tracks. She slid into her car and hooked it up as she drove to Michael’s. Since they broke through the physical intimacy barrier, she essentially lived at his place. After spending almost every night there, he cleared out a drawer and gave her space in his closet. Now she rarely went to her own spot.

Since his house was a bit farther out, she made it through Act 1 of the show before she pulled into his driveway. However, she did not immediately turn it off to get out of the car. She was so enthralled that she just sat there in his driveway with her eyes closed, falling deeper in love with the music with every passing chord.

“That fucking bastard,” she muttered to herself as her head thudded back against the seat. “The great Chris MacDonald strikes again.”

It was always a running joke among the Broadway community that no one ever said no to Chris. If he wanted you, he would always find a way to convince you to work for him. Whether it was the strength of the piece itself or his persuasive abilities, no was not a word he heard.

And she hated that it was working on her. This was award worthy. It was more than that, it was a game changer. It would take more than a year to pick up steam but when it did, it would become a household name. She could feel it in her bones. And the main character, Ashley, was perfect for her. Her ballad, which closed out Act I, was giving Defying Gravity levels of emotion. It was climatic and she could just picture herself singing it on stage. And while the show was filled with drama and emotion, it struck the perfect balance of being funny and relatable. It was the type of show you left and talked about for hours with your friends, examining each character and their decisions with a fine tooth comb.

She sat in her car and typed out notes on her phone as she worked her way through Act II, noting things she picked up on and wanted to discuss further with Chris. She did not even realize how long she sat out there until she heard a knock on her car window.

“Shit!” She jumped almost clean out of her skin as she turned to find Michael staring at her with a quizzical look on his face. She took a deep breath before opening the door. “You scared me.”

“My bad. I saw you pull up 30 minutes ago. Wanted to make sure you were good. You on the phone or somethin’?”

“30 minutes?? Sorry, baby. I was just listening to these songs Chris sent me.”

She pulled herself and her bag out of the car and followed Michael into the house. The house smelled delicious, Michael immediately returning to the oven to check on his Bolognese sauce.

“How was coffee?”

“Um… intriguing, that’s for sure.” Charlotte threw her bag down on one of the bar stools and immediately grabbed the loaf of bread and other materials that were sitting out to help Michael finish dinner.

“Ok, elaborate.”

Charlotte sighed. “Well, it wasn’t a friendly catch up like I thought. He has a role for me… in his new show.”

“Ok… and?”

“It’s really fuckin’ good, Bakari. Like game changing good. Like household name good. He said he just wanted six months out of me, which is more than enough to be nominated this year or next.”

Michael nodded. “Ok… I’m hearing all the good things… sounds like good shit. But you’re hesitating. What’s stopping you?”

She turned to face him, leaning against the counter. “Well first, my life is here with you. Not in New York. We’ve only been dating for three months. I don’t want to lose what we have.” Michael glanced at her, waiting for her to say more. “A-and I left New York in such a weird way. I don’t even know how people feel about me now. A-and 8 shows a week??” She ranted, taking her frustration out on the helpless loaf of Italian bread in front of her. “Don’t even know if I can physically do that shit anymore. I’m not that good of a dancer… I mean when would we have time to see each other if I’m doing 8 shows a week? I could kiss my current career goodbye. I feel like I started down this road, don’t know if I should backtrack?”

Michael turned her away from the cutting board and took the knife out of her hands. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer and closer to him.

“What’s really wrong, Els? Cause it ain’t any of the dumb shit you just mentioned.”

Charlotte immediately felt offended, her body attempting and failing to twist out of his firm but still gentle grip. “Excuse me?? Those are legit concerns, thank you very much.”

“No they aren’t. You’re never gonna lose me cause you’re pursuing a dream. New York is a plane ride away, I’ll come to you when I’m not filming. Long distance relationships work and thrive every day, Els.” He started to list off, dismissing her concerns one by one. “You left to save your life. Fuck anyone who doesn’t understand that or sympathize with that shit. Besides, who even gives a fuck what they think? You got Chris in your corner and more people than you think, that’s enough. You can dance just fine. And you run like 6 miles every single day so physically, you can do anything including sing and dance for 2 hrs 8 times a week. And it’s not backtracking. You started in the theater, took a break and are going back. People do that shit literally all the time. I think you’re scared. And if you want to say no for all those practical reasons to Chris, fine. But at least be honest with me. Why are you really hesitating?”

She picked at her nails, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. She hated that she had to consider him, this dark cloud that hung over her head and still indirectly affected her decisions. She hated that he still had this much power

“I left New York for a reason, Bakari. A-and that reason is still walking and talking and… I don’t think I can ignore that just because Chris dangles a shiny Tony in front of my face.”

“Do you really think he’d try something?”

“I… I dunno. But I also don’t know if I want to test that theory. I gave it all up then because I couldn’t stay alive and keep it. I tried that and it didn’t work. All I got was a break in and three days in the ER. How’s this time gonna be any different? Seems dumb to walk right back into the lion’s den.”

“Are you walking back into the lion’s den or following your dreams? Was he a Broadway enthusiast or somethin?”

Charlotte let out a humorless laugh. “Hell no. He hated musicals… and joy… and laughter… and me,” she added under her breath with a humorless chuckle. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because who's to say he will even know you’re there? Even in the most popular shows, the everyday person doesn’t follow news about it. And this is a new show, not like that rap one everyone I know keeps going to see about the dead white people?”

“Hamilton?” Her judgment of his lack of theater knowledge showed in her laughter.. “‘That musical with the dead white people’” she chuckled. “It’s the hottest ticket of the year, babe.”

“See,” he emphasized, ignoring the tone of shade in her voice. “I’m an actor and still don’t know this shit.”

“Bakari… be serious, please.”

“I am!” He laughed. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is even the most popular shows, the non-broadway goer doesn’t know whose in them. You’re a rising star and the benefit of a rising star is that you can still keep a low profile when you want. For all that nigga knows, you’re still in LA. Talk to Chris about promo and maybe keeping a lower profile for the first couple months and all that and secure your dream, babe.”

“But I already proved I can’t have both, Bakari,” she repeated.

He shook his head. “No, you couldn’t have both then. It’s been a couple years, you’re different. And who knows, that nigga could’ve moved to another state or be in a new relationship or anything. A lot can change in two years, right?”

She scratched her head. The things Michael said made total sense but there was still this wall standing in her way.

“Els, baby. Look at me.” His finger lifted her chin to look him in the eye. “I think you should do it. It’s six months until you come back here. Ever since I’ve known you, being the lead of a show has been your dream. And you miss it. And now someone is handing you the opportunity on a silver platter. Why miss it a second time? And if it makes you feel safer, I’ll move with you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Baby, I can’t ask you to move across the country for me. Your family, your friends… your life is here.”

He shrugged. “And in six months, my life will still be here. My future is wherever you are. And I told you a couple weeks ago that I’d do whatever you needed to make you feel safe.”

“Yes, with you. Not out in the world. I can’t ask you to upend your entire life for me. We haven’t been together that long.”

“Semantics. I told you I’d do whatever you needed. This counts in my book. Don’t think about the length of time we’ve been together or where it is or any of that shit. Would it help and make you feel more comfortable if I went with you? At least for a couple months?”

Charlotte studied him for a moment, realizing he was truly being sincere. She found it hard to ask for such a thing but she could not deny that it would help her. Even just knowing that she could come home to someone each night and be safe in their arms felt like it would change everything.

“Y-Yea, it would help a lot. But you really don’t have to, babe.”

“Ok then it’s settled. If you take it, I’ll go with you. I know we’re jumping ahead and skipping some steps but I’m in if you are.”

“You don’t want to think about it?”

He shrugged as he moved to put the garlic bread in the oven. “What’s there to think about? It’s like moving for a role. It doesn’t really change much. When would you have to be there?”

“Top of January, the show is supposed to premiere on March 1.”

He nodded. “Ok so if you decide to do it, we can move right after Christmas to make sure you’re there in time.”

Charlotte chuckled. “Yea while you’re planning our move, I actually need to decide whether to do it.”

Michael leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “I’m removing obstacles so you can make the best decision for you. Not for me or because of that nigga. For you. If you want this, we’ll do whatever we gotta do to make sure you’re safe while you do it, ok?”

Her arms went around his shoulders, their bodies flush against each other. “How’d I get so lucky to find you?”

“I’m the lucky one, honeybee.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “Honeybee? That’s a new one. Where’d that come from?”

“Cause you taste sweet, like honey.”

“‘I taste sweet, what do- ohhhhh,” the memory of him saying that during the first time he gave her head came back to her mind causing her to laugh a bit. “Thought I’d try it out. It has a cute ring to it. You don’t like it?”

“I like any nickname you give me, love. But… let’s make this the only one inspired by our sex life, ok?”

“Deal.”

The pair ate dinner before retreating to his bedroom. They did not talk about Chris’s offer again until they were settled in bed, Charlotte laying on Michael’s chest.

“I think… I think I want to do it. You’re right, it’s my dream and I might not get another shot like this again,” she offered in the quiet and darkness. She knew he was not asleep yet.

Michael did not even take a beat before he responded, “I guess we’re moving to New York then.”

Charlotte sat up, leaning on his chest. “You knew I was gonna take it the whole evening didn’t you?”

He shrugged, before shifting so she was laying back down. He placed a kiss on the top of her forehead and merely smiled. “Yea… when are you gonna learn? I’m always right, baby,” he joked. "You gonna call Chris?

She bit down the joke that bubbled to the surface and merely settled back into his arms with a smile.

“Yes you are, baby. And in the morning, it's after midnight."

"Yea and you said he flew all the way out here for you. That man is probably waiting by the phone for you. Call him, if he's asleep, you can try again in the morning. Besides, knowing you, you'll find some way to talk yourself out of it by morning." He reached over to her side and grabbed her phone. "Call him, babe."

"Touché." She slid out of his bed and paced, one hand fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt she had on while her feet dragged across his soft plush carpet.

She waited for a few moments with bated breath until she heard his voice fill her ears.

"Hey, Chris! Sorry if this is too late to call? Hope I didn't wake you."

"Oh no, I was just up working and praying your name would cross my phone sometime before the night was over. Please tell me you called me this late with bad news."

Charlotte chuckled and glanced at Michael who gave her an encouraging smile and thumbs up.

"No, no. Just calling to tell you that you can tell the team you found your new Ashley."

She had to hold the phone away from her ear as his screams of delight threatened to bust her ear drums.

"God, I fucking love you, Charlotte Bennett. I could literally kiss you."

"I think my boyfriend would have something to say about that," she chuckled. "But yea I'm in."

"Amazing. I'll send over details to you and your team tomorrow and we can talk more then. Seriously, Charlie, you won't regret it. I promise."

"I know, thank you, Chris. Seriously. Ok, talk tomorrow. Bye."

She hung up the phone and turned to Michael, the realization hitting her.

"I'm gonna be leading a show on Broadway." She ran back to the bed and jumped on it, her previous exhaustion long forgotten as her excitement took over.

Michael enveloped her in a tight hug before they both settled back into bed.

"This is gonna be good, Els. I can feel it."

She placed a quick kiss on his bare chest. "I feel it too. Thank you. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing this without you."

"I gotchu, Els. Always."

Tags: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings

A/N: As always, thanks for reading! We finally got some smut (woohoo). Tbh smut is like really hard for me to write lol so I hope y'all liked it? I really wanted it to be intimate and showcase how close they've gotten in a short time. They could be sexy and honest and vulnerable and playful with each other and it not ruin the moment, it only enhances it for them. Next chapter, we'll get some fluff with their first public outing as a couple and press tour cuteness (think Tom/Zendaya and Corey/India from Queen Charlotte level cuteness). I'm gonna try to get a one-shot out this week too before I'm off on vacation. We'll see if I can actually get it done :)

Leave a comment on what you thought of the chapter and let me know if you want to be tagged!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

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