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lowkeychenle · 2 days

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Some Things Can't Be Taught [ZCL] (M)

Description: In which you are failing college physics, and your childhood best friend offers up one of his friends as your tutor—except, there’s a little something he wants to learn from you in exchange.

Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst in some spots

Content Warnings: explicit, protected sex; awkward Chenle; reader is more experienced (Chenle is a virgin); reader and Chenle ridicule each other; use of pet name ‘baby’ (Chenle isn’t creative yet); oral sex (f & m receiving); alcohol consumption; explicit unprotected sex (reader on unnamed birth control lol); Chenle is somewhat of a fast learner

Word Count: 23,775

Taglist: @lostinneocity @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce @niinjo @once4sunrise @amyjipark @buns-inhiding @ti--red @defzcl @theboyz-jacob

Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (features Dreamies, aespa Karina & Giselle)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

“Come on. It’s either this or you’re gonna fail.” Your best friend, Jisung, crosses his arms over his chest. “You need help, and I already asked him for you. He said yes, so you’ll have to suck it up.”

“Ji, I’ve never even met him before. He’s a complete stranger to me, and I don’t really care all that much if I fail.”

“(Y/N), it’s the first semester of college. You need to try a little harder or you’re gonna start failing everything,” Jisung scolds you.

His front door opens, and both of your gazes go toward the sound. Without even seeing who it is yet, you know exactly what’s happening.

��Park Jisung, did you literally tell him to—”

As soon as Jisung’s friend comes into view, your words die lodged in your throat. You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing things correctly, and then glare at the man standing next to you. All he does is raise his eyebrows in response, a grin filtering onto his face.

“Who knows,” Jisung whispers, nudging your arm. “Maybe you’ll get more than a tutor.”

“Ew, Sungs, the last thing I need is you trying to find me dick. Please never say that again.”

Jisung’s friend is simply unlike any other man you’ve ever seen. He enters the kitchen, and despite running his fingers through his hair and sighing, he sends you a gentle smile before looking at Jisung.

“This is the girl who needs physics help?”

“And maybe physical edu—” Jisung wheezes as you backhand him in the stomach, nearly keeling him over. His friend bites back a laugh before returning his attention to you.

“Yes, I need help with physics. The class.”

“Is there any other kind of physics?”

You can’t get a read on him. Not really. His hair is neat, not a single strand out of place, and he’s wearing jeans with a button-down tucked into them. Glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, and he’s carrying two fairly large textbooks.

An instance of silence takes over the room, but both you and this other guy are at a complete loss on what to do next. And for some reason, you can’t stop looking at him. It must be because your analysis isn’t working. He intrigues you, but only in the sense that it’s rare for you to be unable to see into people’s souls.

“(Y/N), this is Chenle, Chenle, this is (Y/N).” Jisung gestures between the two of you once he finally catches his breath.

“Hi, Chenle. Great to meet you. Jisung, can I talk to you for a few minutes? Over there?” You violently point in the opposite direction, but send a somewhat small smile over to Chenle. “Sorry, we’ll just be a second.”

He nods and sets his textbooks down on the counter. You pull Jisung by his wrist.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“Now, I know you’ve got like, six girls in your phone you could’ve asked to help me with physics. Why him?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Okay, look. Hear me out all the way first before you punch me.” Jisung sighs and shifts on his feet. “Chenle is literally the smartest person I know. Yes, including you. And he’s really nice, too, and I think you’d…I don’t know, like him eventually if you gave him the chance. You haven’t really done that recently.”

“Sure, but I like being single, Sungs. If I wanted someone, I would’ve asked.”

“You can just let him tutor you then. I know both of you pretty well, alright? I think you two could be good for each other. By all means, don’t date him or try to date him. But for the love of God, let him tutor you. He’s gonna do it for free, and you fucking need it.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s right. There’s no denying it. Letting out a sigh, you finally agree, “Fine. I’ll let him tutor me.”

What you told Jisung wasn’t a lie—you did like being single. And part of keeping yourself single (and happy) has been avoiding any men who might change one or both of those things. You’d never met Chenle before today, but the second you saw him, you knew. He had the potential to ruin your life…if you let him.

So, no dating. But you’ll take tutoring, because if you face the facts, Jisung is right. The last thing you need to do is fail a college course.

You and Jisung walk back over to Chenle. He’d made himself busy with getting a water bottle out of the fridge. Once he tilts it back, you almost curse yourself for your reaction—why the fuck are you watching him swallow it? Imagining the liquid roll down his throat and—

“Well, she said she’d greatly appreciate your tutoring, Chenle.” Jisung sends a bright grin over to his friend. “And she happens to live right next door. I have a…friend coming over, so if you two wanna get started, I’ll be here.”

Jisung wants you dead, apparently.

Chenle’s cheeks get a slight pink hue to them. “Oh, I didn’t—you won’t be there, too?”

“The hell do I need physics help for? I’m a dance major.” Jisung shrugs. “You kids have fun.”

“I’m older than you.” Chenle narrows his eyes.

“Yeah, me too.” You cross your arms over your chest and glare at your friend.

“Besides the point. Now, you two go. I’ve got plans today.”

“I hope you know I’m gonna kill you. Bring a stranger into my house with no warning, what if it’s messy in there?”

“Maybe you should keep your place clean.” Jisung shrugs.

You sigh and face your new tutor. “Is that okay with you? We can reschedule for a different day if that works better for you.”

“No, no.” Chenle shakes his head. “We’re good. I guess I wasn’t expecting to—it doesn’t matter. Let’s go?”

His books are back under his arm, and he uses his other hand to tell you to go to the door first. You send one last glare at Jisung before you leave his apartment with Chenle in tow. You’ve met him all of three seconds, and now you’re bringing him into your house. Great.

“You go to the same school as Ji?” you ask as you step inside your own place.

He runs his fingers through his hair again but nods. “Yeah, but I met him over the summer. At—”

“You go to Jeju for the summer, too?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Not usually.”

“I didn’t see you there,” you say, and instantly, your face heats up. “Not that it’s weird, just an observation. I was only there for like, a week, and I would’ve remembered seeing you—”

You cut yourself off, scratching your forehead. He chuckles, the corner of his lips pulling upward slightly.

“I was only there for the last week Jisung was.” He pushes his glasses up and follows you into your kitchen. “He’s pretty cool.”

You snort. “He’s alright. I’ve known him my whole life, unfortunately.”

“Your parents are friends?”

“Best friends,” you tell him. “Not that anything has ever—or will ever happen between us. I legitimately want to knock him out. Maybe put him in a chokehold.”

“I was kinda surprised he didn’t have us stay over there,” Chenle mentions. “I thought he’d give us a little bit more of an introduction.”

“Ah, him bringing a friend over means he’s about to get laid, actually,” you say, going into your fridge to grab some snacks. “Don’t worry, we won’t hear anything. His room’s not against this wall.”

His eyes widen, and he blinks incredulously at you. “Are you serious?”

“Mhm.” You set the strawberries and the watermelon down on the counter and open the lids. “Surprised you didn’t pick up on that. Thought it was some guy-code talk.”

“I…” He pauses, scratching his forehead. “Maybe? I don’t really know.”

“Want some?” You slide the fruit over to him, and you almost laugh when you see how he seems to be floundering for words.

“Sure. Did…What did you want to study today?”

“To be honest, I don’t really want to at all.” You pop one of the strawberries in your mouth. “It might be better for us to get to know each other first. Because right now, you’re a strange man in my apartment. And I’m not very fond of strange men.”

Your satisfaction grows when the pink returns to his cheeks.

“Right, sorry. I’m Zhong Chenle, but I think Jisung told you that already. I’m a physics major, actually, and not to brag or anything, but I’m the top of my class. And I also…also really like music. Singing and writing it.” He purses his lips, and after a few moments, decides he’ll take you up on the offer of snacks.

“You’re insane for being a physics major, just so you know.” You lean forward on your counter, clasping your hands together. “Music is cool.”

His gaze dances all over your figure, but he hides it somewhat well. You barely notice.

“You?”

“Oh, I’m not all that interesting.” You chuckle. “I haven’t declared my major yet. Not really sure what I want to do.”

“I mean, I’m not sure what I’ll do with physics. I’ll probably have to get a Masters if I want to be anything useful.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, and you find the awkwardness of all of it…endearing, maybe. You’ll keep going a bit longer.

“I see.” Intentionally being awkward is your forte. You’ll see how much he can handle. How much he’ll give back.

“We should at least do one chapter today,” he says after almost an entire minute of silence. “I told Jisung I would help. And if you push it back, there’s no guarantee you’ll do it.”

“Hm. Jisung is the only reason you want to tutor me?” You can’t help the smirk on your face. Nor can you ignore the way his face hasn’t lost the pink since he stepped foot in your apartment.

“I—I mean, yeah. No. Originally, yeah. He asked me to h—” he cuts himself off, a scoff escaping his lips. “I’m trying to be nice. I honestly don’t have a whole lot of friends outside of Jisung, either, so I guess he thought we could be good together. As friends, of course.”

Oh, let the games begin. This man wants to be your friend, and here you are, eyeing him up and down like he’s your next meal. Getting him flustered has all but unlocked a new portion of you you had no idea existed. Every guy you’ve ever dated has been your stereotypical jock, and certainly, none of them would’ve ever been able to tutor you. But the lack of confidence on Chenle’s part should be studied—how does he look like that and have no confidence? It astounds you.

“Of course,” you agree, biting into a piece of watermelon. “Fine. One chapter, but then you have to come with me to a party tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow’s Tuesday.”

“Yeah, and?”

“We have school on Wednesday.” He blinks at you, pure confusion behind those pretty brown eyes.

“Chenle,” you deadpan. “Letting loose for one night won’t ruin your GPA. I wouldn’t let you drink enough to be hung over.”

“I’ve never been drunk before.” He clears his throat. “Or been to a party. That sounds like a bad idea.”

“And if I promise to stay with you the whole night? I promise, parties are fun. And Jisung will be there. We won’t let anything happen to you.” You stand up straight and cross your arms over your chest. “Not to mention parties are a great place to make friends.”

“I’m not…great at that.”

“Oh, come on.” You glare at him. “I let you tutor me in physics—”

“Let me?”

“Yes, let. And I’ll tutor you on how to make friends. How to get out of your shell a little bit. I can’t pay you money for school help, so let me do this. It’s a good exchange.”

“I literally didn’t ask for anything in exchange, though.”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Fine. But if I really don’t want to do something, you can’t make me.”

“Dear God, obviously.” You scrunch your nose up. “Fear not, Chenle, I find consent sexy.”

His lips part, but you’re pretty sure you see him gulp. You put the lids back on the containers and set them back in the fridge, sending a smile his way once you’ve let him flounder enough.

“First step of making friends, be confident.” You point at him. “You’re pretty nice to look at. Get rid of the awkwardness and you’ll have people all over you.”

“Oh, great.” Sarcasm twinges in his tone. “What is this? One of those makeover projects?”

“No, of course not. I’m not changing anything about you. I never understood why they always take the glasses off in those movies. They suit you.” You shrug and walk over to him to look at the books he has.

Your arm brushes his, and he blinks at you. When he doesn’t move away, you smirk. At the end of the day, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable…at least not in a bad sense. But teasing him? If it continues to be this easy to fluster him, then you’ll have a great time with it.

“Shall we?”

He nods. “Um, are we studying in here?”

“There’s not really anywhere to sit. We can go in my room.”

“Your—(Y/N), I—”

“Relax, I’m not luring you into a trap, you weirdo. I’ll be on my bed and you can use the desk.” You gesture toward your door. “We’ll even leave it open.”

“You don’t live alone?”

“Nope, my roommate is at class right now. Not too sure when she’ll be back though, she spends a lot of time at her boyfriend’s house.” You walk toward your room, and he follows behind you.

“We’ll have to share the book, though.” He sets it down on the desk.

Seeing him in your room is odd, to say the least. Mostly because you just met him today, but also because he seems to fit. You sit on the edge of your bed, and with the lamp in the corner not quite bright enough to light up the whole area, it casts shadows on his face. He looks even prettier like this, and you suddenly regret bringing him in here.

“And…the light?”

You point to the wall. “There.”

“Alright, sit at the desk. I’ll stand.” He flicks the switch on and watches you closely as you get up to do as he asks.

“Are you sure? I feel bad making you stand.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. “We can meet somewhere else next time. Or get another chair.”

And then he puts the book in front of you, opens it to the first chapter, and places his palm flat on it to keep it on that page. You’d attempt to ignore the way his hand looks, but the way the other one is placed behind you on the chair is a much more dangerous thought.

How Jisung knows exactly who would be your type is crazy. You hate him for it.

“Can you do a physics fun fact? Maybe it’ll make my life less miserable.” You look up at him and see the gentle smile on his face.

“Sure. We’ll do one every lesson. Let me think.” He ponders for a moment, pursing his lips. “Diamonds. They’re the hardest natural material on Earth, well, that we know of. But it has the lowest crystal packing fraction, meaning the atoms are the least densely packed.”

“That’s…physics?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

“Huh. Alright, then. I feel like I should write that down.” You grab a notebook from your drawer and scribble down what he just said.

“You have pretty handwriting,” he mentions, a hum escaping his throat.

Leave it to you to have warmth spreading to your cheeks from a compliment on your handwriting.

“Oh, thanks.” You clear your throat and slide the notebook to the side. “Should we…learn, I guess?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

It takes an hour to get through the first chapter, but Chenle thoroughly explains it in a way that suddenly has you understanding the very basics. As much as you hate to admit it, Jisung was right. Chenle’s a damn good tutor.

“You caught on fast.” He nudges your arm.

“Well, you didn’t explain it like a decrepit old man who speaks at one word per hour.” You chuckle. “You’re easy to listen to.”

“Wow, your poor professor.”

“No, poor me, alright? He also stands with his elbows permanently glued to his sides. He looks like a T-rex.”

He laughs out loud at that one, reaching up to massage his forehead. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know. Now you know why I suck at physics.”

“You don’t suck at it,” he defends you. “It takes time to learn. And…good teachers.”

It’s at this point that you realize he’ll be leaving. And that you’ve been making him stand for an hour, it’s almost dinner time, and he’s been incredibly kind (and not weird or impatient) the entire duration.

“Um, I’m really sorry about making you stand for so long. Can I buy you dinner? I feel bad for being a little bit of an ass earlier, too.” You push the chair back and climb to your feet. He’s close like this, and you still have to look up slightly to catch his gaze.

“Oh, I’m supposed to go somewhere with Jisung and our other friend, Mark. If you’re okay with it, you should come.” He must be more comfortable with you, too, because he hasn’t made a single move to back away from you.

“To be honest, new people kinda scare me. I have a max amount per day.”

He smiles. “That’s the most relatable thing you’ve said all day. No worries.”

“Rain check, though?”

“For sure. Did you want to set up another session?” he asks. “Whenever works for you, I can make it happen. I have class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, pretty much until 5pm, but other than that…depending on how much you need, I can do all the weekdays at like, 7pm, but I obviously wouldn’t stay super late. School’s important, and—”

“Seven is great. I’m gonna need a lot of help.” You stick your hands into your pockets. “And tomorrow? You’re still going?”

“A deal’s a deal.” He nods.

“Do you want to meet me here? Jisung’s going, too, so he can drive the three of us.”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright.”

“Yep.”

“Have a good time with your friends.”

“Have a good time…recharging.”

Silence cascades over the two of you once again, and this time, it’s broken by both of you cringing and laughing at yourselves. You walk him to your front door and then find yourself in a similar situation, only now you’re in the hallway of your apartment building.

It’s too awkward to say you want to hang out with him more, but it’s also too awkward to rush him out of the door.

“Oh,” you say, reaching into your pocket for your phone. “Do you want to exchange numbers? That way if there are any changes or something, we can reach each other.”

“For sure.”

You offer it to him with the contacts screen open, and he takes it from you. He quickly types his number in and hands it back to you. You start to say something, and then you notice Jisung out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you snap your mouth shut and take a large step back from the man in front of you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gives you a small smile before walking toward Jisung, and without another moment of hesitation, you close your door and groan to yourself. Jisung will never let you hear the end of this. Good thing Chenle will most likely get a barrage of teasing today, because it might get it out of Jisung’s system by the time he’s around you again.

You’re finishing up your makeup in your bathroom when Jisung stops mid-sentence, perturbed by the knock sounding on the door. With your lip gloss on, you turn to Jisung.

“I need to go change. Can you get that? It’s Chenle.”

“It’s…I’m sorry, did you just say Chenle’s here?”

“Wow, you can hear with those big ass ears. I’m surprised.” You feign shock. “Yes, please let him in. And don’t be weird. It’s not what you think at all, so if you make him awkward, I’ll kill you.”

“What is happening?” he mutters to himself as you close your bedroom door to change.

The party isn’t a huge one, so you planned on going in a more relaxed outfit than you originally thought. You settle for a crop top, jeans, and boots. After you look at yourself in the mirror six times to make sure it looks fine, you leave your room to find Jisung and Chenle have barely made it a few feet inside your apartment.

Jisung’s back is to you, but Chenle faces you. It seems like he stops mid-conversation at the sight of you, and after Jisung turns to you as well, you pretend not to notice the other man’s gaze lingering on you.

“Three years later. Did you cut the shirt yourself?” Jisung grumbles.

“You’re ridiculous. Are you guys ready?”

“Wait, Chenle’s going?” Jisung glances between the two of you. “Like, for real?”

“Obviously. Why else would he be here?”

“You…invited him to a party. And he…said yes.”

“Sorry, Chenle, sometimes I have to repeat things seven times for him to understand me. Can we go?”

Jisung’s at a loss, which makes both you and Chenle chuckle. The car ride to the party is fairly short, but you let Chenle take the front seat, and you sit in the middle in the back. Leaning forward, you rest your elbows on the center console as you talk to the two men.

“You guys are hanging out at this party together?” Jisung asks.

“Now you’re just making it weird,” the other man mentions, pushing his glasses up. “She invited me. I wasn’t gonna say no.”

“I invite you places all the time.”

“Well, Sungs.” You pat his shoulder. “Should I point out the obvious differences? I’m more charismatic than you. And cuter.”

You grin to yourself at the plastering of pink on Chenle’s cheeks, and he averts his gaze out the window to avoid Jisung seeing.

You walk in front of them, essentially leading them into this house. Your friend throws these all the time, and you and Jisung are always on the invite list. Mostly because you’re a package deal at this point, but also because you’re pretty sure your friend has a crush on him.

“I’m gonna get a drink.” You head toward the kitchen, and when you glance back, Chenle is following behind you.

“Jisung found a girl, I think,” he explains. “Is it okay if I—”

“You think I’d leave you by yourself? You don’t even really want to be here. Of course, you can hang out with me.” You pause and wait for him to catch up, and then loop your arm through his.

He’s surprised at first but allows you to guide him through the crowd of people. There are several of your friends in the kitchen—Karina, Jaemin, and Renjun. They all light up at the sight of you, but then immediately catch where you’re attached to Chenle.

“Sorry, there’s more than one new person here for you.” You look back at him quickly. “They’re all nice, don’t worry.”

“I think I’ve met that one,” Chenle says. “Renjun, right?”

You beam at him. “Right. That’s good then.”

Chenle stands next to you on the opposite side of the kitchen island as you animatedly talk to your friends. You introduce him to them, explain how he’s your new tutor (Jisung sponsored), and that you thought it’d be cool for him to hang out with everyone. Your group is immediately welcoming, and soon enough, Jaemin offers to pour you guys each a drink.

You glance at Chenle. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”

“I never have.” He shrugs. “First time for everything, right?”

“Rum and Coke,” you tell Jaemin. “Go easy on the rum, though. We don’t want to be dragged out of here.”

Once the drinks are poured into the red cups, Jaemin hands them to the two of you. You sip yours, watching Chenle closely as he lifts it to his lips. Just like with that fucking water bottle yesterday, you can’t help but stare as he swallows the liquid, and you know damn well your friends are clocking this whole thing.

“Not bad,” he says.

“There’s barely any alcohol in it,” you tease him. “Did you want to go sit down? Jaemin’s selective about who’s allowed in the living room, so the couch will be open.”

“Selective?”

“Well, one time, this random couple hooked up on his old couch. Like, in front of everyone. It was crazy. But he also replaced that couch, so no need to worry about it being gross.” You laugh as Chenle’s jaw drops.

“People just…do that at parties?”

“Not typically in the middle of the party, but sometimes, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you have to, so don’t freak out.” You grab his wrist and lead him toward the couch, glad to see that the only other people in there are Jeno, Giselle, Jisung, and a girl you don’t recognize sitting on his lap.

“This is already a lot better,” Chenle murmurs, his breath brushing your ear as he leans down to tell you.

“Good,” you reply.

“Well, well, well.” Jisung clicks his tongue. “You were supposed to be a good influence on her, not let her poorly influence you.”

“There’s like, half a shot of rum in there.” You sneer at your best friend.

“Whatever. Plan is working.”

You flip him off, and then you and Chenle take a seat opposite of everyone. He keeps a respectful distance from you and holds his cup with both hands, nervously glancing around.

“Don’t tell me you put Chenle in (Y/N)’s line of fire,” Giselle teases, grinning widely.

“You guys are gonna make him think I’m weird,” you complain. You touch Chenle’s arm. “I’m not evil, they’re just assholes.”

“I’m inclined to believe you, I think.” He shrugs. Attempting to hide the humorous gleam in his eyes, he takes another sip of his drink.

The night passes by somewhat quickly, and eventually, the whole group is in the living room, meaning no one is really paying attention to you and Chenle anymore. You’ve had enough to start feeling a buzz, and the way the pink on Chenle’s cheeks has become permanent tells you he might be a bit past that part himself.

“Maybe we should get some water,” you whisper to him. “Are you okay?”

He nods, and when he looks at you, you almost recoil at how close it makes you. Resting his head back on the cushion, he takes a deep breath. “This is nice. I’m not really stressed about anything right now.”

“Yeah, it happens like that.” You allow yourself a brief glance over the length of his throat, and the alcohol coursing through you has you wanting more than you’d ever admit out loud.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He lets out a sigh.

“If you want to, sure.” You nod.

“Think you’re really pretty.” He laughs, scrunching up his nose. “And talking to you is cool.”

“Well, if it helps at all, I think you’re pretty, too.” Your heart warms at the sight of him like this. You’ve known him just over twenty-four hours, but you knew he needed this—a way to relax and stop worrying about life. You’re not sure exactly what parts are stressing him out, but he needed to get away from them regardless.

“Thank you for not making that weird.” He scratches his forehead. “Maybe I should drink water.”

“Stay here, I’ll get it for you.” You set your cup down on the coffee table and go back into the kitchen.

As you’re grabbing two water bottles from the fridge, you’re joined by Jisung.

“You’re taking care of him now?”

“Relax. It’s a water bottle.” You shake your head. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure.”

“I’m surprised you came up for air. Breaking away from what’s-her-face must’ve been difficult.” You stop in the doorframe and sigh. “You were right, though. He’ll be a good friend.”

“That’s all I needed.” Jisung grins. “Both of you need more of those.”

“I take it back. We’re gonna fight outside.”

“I’d drop your ass and you know it,” your best friend jokes. “But try if you must.”

You make it back to Chenle, who gratefully accepts the bottle from you. When you sit, you don’t realize how much closer the two of you were from when you first sat down. There’d been a good foot of space between you guys, and now your thigh brushes his.

“Are you tired?” you ask him. “I can take you home.”

“Go…home. Like…with you?” His gaze drags over you, and your eyes widen.

“As in, I drop you off at your home, and then I go to mine.” You put your hand on his knee. “Are you alright?”

“I never told you the physics fun fact of the day.” He points at you. “The screens of smartphones work thanks to the electric charges leaving our fingers. But yours didn’t. ‘Cause you didn’t text me.”

“Did I leave you waiting?” You nudge him.

He nods. “Mhm. It’s not nice.”

“Alright, I’m sorry.” You bite back a smile. Who knew a somewhat tipsy man could be so fucking cute? “I’ll text you right now.”

You grab your phone and send him a message. It vibrates in his pocket.

“Oh, hold on. I think someone just texted me.” He grabs it and checks it, and then grins widely. “It was you.”

“It was me, yes.” You wave Jisung down, waiting until he’s close enough to hear you. “Can you take him home? It’s best if he’s done for tonight.”

“You’re staying?”

“For now, yeah. I had too much to drive him.”

“Sure. Is he coherent?” Jisung glances at the other man. “Hangover bets?”

“He won’t be hung over. He had like three drinks with barely any alcohol. Don’t tease him. Be nice and take him home. Make sure he actually makes it to his bed, okay?”

“Jeez, what are you, his mom?”

“My mom’s at home right now,” Chenle mutters.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

The next morning, you didn’t receive a message from Chenle. You were curious as to how he was feeling and if he’d been okay all night. And you thought about messaging him closer to seven when he was supposed to show up, but you decided not to. If he didn’t come at the scheduled time, you could do it then.

But he did.

He showed up with his textbooks in hand, and an apology for his actions on the tip of his tongue. You quickly brushed it under the rug—if anyone knows anything about drunk thoughts, it’s you. All discussion of the night before was done after that, and the two of you simply continued your tutoring.

Weeks later, it was 7:30pm on a Thursday, and you were sitting on your bed, your back against the wall and your arm pressed against Chenle’s. The physics book was open across both laps, and his soft voice guided you through whichever lesson you were on now.

“So, the universe is still growing?” you ask.

“Oh, yeah. Every second it’s expanding. It has been for billions of years and will continue on for another billion years after we’re gone.” His eyes widen as he shifts to get a better look at you. “Think about it. All those stars out there, the planets. We’re still discovering new ones almost every new place we unlock. This is my favorite part of physics—learning why everything is the way it is. Real explanations, and not just…talk.”

Those same stars he’s talking about? You’re pretty sure they’re scattered in his gaze, staring right back at you as he allows his passion to shine through.

“Chenle,” you say, pausing briefly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You told me before you’ve never dated anyone. Why?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “I never really wanted to. I’m focused a lot on my schoolwork and stuff, I figured I wouldn’t have time. So, I just…didn’t. And let’s be honest here, it’s not like I had a whole lot of prospects, anyway.”

You stare at him with a raised brow before he returns the expression.

“What? I’m serious.”

“You’ve got to be joking. Like actually.”

“Come on, all I do is study. I don’t even really talk to anyone, so how would I have had any?” He sits up further and stretches, moving his glasses to rub his eyes.

“Well, now you do talk to people. Anyone you’ve been interested in?”

“I thought we were doing this to make me friends, not find me a girlfriend.” He presses his lips together. “Besides, I don’t have any time. I probably won’t until after I graduate.”

“Dude, you spend pretty much every night with me. That’s why you don’t have time. And being interested in someone doesn’t necessarily mean you have to date them.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Right, and so what does that interest even do, then?”

“I have to spell this out for you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I’m genuinely confused.”

“Hook up with someone. College is important, yeah, but have some fun.”

He laughs. “I don’t want that, either. We both know I don’t have the confidence for something like that, and it doesn’t sound all that appealing. Not that I judge people who do. I’m obviously friends with Jisung. And I genuinely wouldn’t have any clue how to handle that situation.”

“It’s very simple. You approach girl, flirt, make her laugh, dance a little, and then if she’s into you, you take her somewhere—”

“Not what I meant.”

Your jaw drops as realization hits you, and you slap your hand over your mouth. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think you’d—and now I’m being an asshole because I—dude.”

“Relax,” he says. “It’s not really a big deal. You didn’t mean anything by it, and if anything, it’s flattering you didn’t think that was a possibility.”

“Dear God, someone delete me from this Earth.” You glance up at the ceiling. “So, obviously, don’t hook up with random people if that’s not how you want to lose it. Is it one of those waiting til marriage things?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Just no opportunities have presented themselves that seemed worth it. In the past.”

“This is embarrassing. For me, not you.” You drop your head in your hands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have told you if that were the case. Let’s just stick to finding me friends for now, alright?”

“Of course, yeah. That makes sense.” You take a deep breath, pausing. “I’m getting hungry. Do you wanna go get some food?”

“Sure, sounds good. I’ll pay this time.”

“No, you won’t.” You poke his chest. “Nice try, though.”

You spring up from your bed, suddenly feeling as if the distance between him and your bedroom needs to be far greater than what it has been. Time to erase the last ten minutes from your memory and hope it doesn’t make absolutely everything weird between the two of you.

Everything was normal until the next Saturday. You don’t usually see Chenle on the weekends unless there’s a party you’re dragging him to. Today, you hoped to relax your brain and take a day for yourself, but the knock at your door decided otherwise.

You open it, and Chenle stands there, looking as if he’s about to be sick to his stomach. Recoiling, you step back to let him in, and he enters without a word.

“Are you okay?” you ask. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

You flounder for words, unsure of how to handle this situation. “I thought you wanted a real opportunity—”

“Opportunities are made, aren’t they?” He wets his lips. “How do I…I don’t want to be fucking awful when I do find someone, okay?”

“Chenle, that’s a wild way to think of it. If you want to be with someone you love, and you’re in a relationship long enough to get to that point, the other person should be understanding—”

“It’s not a big deal. Societal constructs or whatever.”

“I…Okay. I’ll help you find someone.” Your brain whirls at the sudden switch, and you shift on your feet. “Are you sure?”

There’s a moment of silence, accompanied with him looking up at the ceiling briefly, as if there are words locked in his throat he desperately wants to let out. He curses under his breath and shakes his head.

“I don’t want someone random.”

“You have someone in mind?”

“This is so fucking embarrassing.” He laughs at himself and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t be weirded out by this. But I need to be with someone I trust, and you…you’re the only girl I trust.”

The shock hits you so hard, you’re almost knocked off balance. You knew Chenle had gotten more comfortable with you, but this stretches a bit beyond that. And before you knew he was a virgin, you wouldn’t have said no to hooking up with him.

“Me.” You gulp. “You want…to have sex with me.”

“Okay, now it’s weird.” His fists clench at his sides and he avoids your gaze. “Forget I came by, okay? I’m sorry that was so weird, we can just never talk about it again, and I’ll keep…being me, and—”

“Slow down, please.” You card your fingers through your hair and try to force the shock away. “I didn’t even respond. Give me like three seconds to wrap my head around it.”

He nods in response, staring down at his feet.

“So, you…you trust me. And because of that, you want me to take your virginity?” You’re still not completely caught up.

“Yeah, it sounded better in my head, I think.”

“Is that the only reason you want me instead of someone else?” you ask.

“What do you mean by that?” He plays with the bottom hem of his T-shirt. “But you’re not—it’s not like that. I trust you. We both know I think you’re pretty. I’ve learned a lot of…things from you, and I thought that maybe we could—”

“You want sex lessons.”

“Can you—My God, please don’t say it like that.” He cringes.

“It’s not weird,” you reassure him. “I didn’t expect this. At all, clearly. Um, I need a little bit of time to think about it.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want things to change with us because you’re really a great person, and I…You know I won’t be mad at you or anything if you say no. I get it.”

“I didn’t think you would be.” You pause. “I’ll give you an answer tomorrow. I need to process a little more.”

“Of course. Thank you. Either way.”

More silence.

“Um, did you know that sound waves could heat up cold soup?”

The awkwardness swarming the two of you shatters as you laugh. “You’re ridiculous. Truly the only man I know that’ll proposition sex in one sentence and then move on to fucking physics.”

“Icebreakers. They work wonders.” He shrugs.

If it was possible for your brain to be on one topic for an entire twenty-four hours, that’s exactly what happened to you. When the topic first came up, Chenle seemed like he wanted someone special to share the moment with. Now, he wants to get it out of the way. And he wants your help. If he regrets it, there’s literally nothing you’ll be able to do to change that. And you’d undeniably been attracted to him from the moment you saw him, but that doesn’t mean this was the best way to go about this. He trusts you. He said that with his whole chest, and you’re not sure if that’s the entire reason. So you came up with some stipulations, and if any of them are a no for him, then you won’t do it. You’re about as nervous as he was when he came over to ask you, but you text him and tell him to come over. When he sits next to you on your couch, you fidget with your hands in your lap. You don’t know exactly how to just say it.

“Before I make my decision, there are a few things you’d have to be okay with.” You clear your throat, and you watch realization dawn on his face.

“Okay. What is it?” he asks.

“First, I’m clean and on birth control, so protection is up to you whether or not you want to use it. But it’s a good habit to start, obviously. For when you…eventually hook up with other people, too.”

He gulps. “That makes sense.”

“We don’t tell Jisung.”

“I think he’d kill me if he knew, anyway.” He grips his thighs tightly, fingers digging into the fabric of his jeans.

“If I do something or ask you to do something you don’t want to do, tell me. I would never get mad at you for telling me no, okay?”

“Same would go to you.”

“If you were to ever…find that you’re falling for me, or catching feelings, you have to tell me. And we’ll stop.” You analyze him closely, waiting for any change in his face.

He chews on his bottom lip, but ends up nodding.

“You still have to tutor me in physics. And if things get too awkward and I fail, I’ll kill you.”

That one makes him laugh, and his grip on his legs relaxes. “I won’t let you fail.”

“We’ll still be friends after this?” you inquire. “Like, we’re not gonna do this and then you’ll fall off the face of the Earth or anything?”

“It’s—”

“Don’t tell me it’s impossible. Just answer the question.”

He gives you a soft smile. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

With that, you stand up and hold out your hand. He stares blankly at you, lips slightly open as he tries to figure out what you’re trying to do.

“No better time than the present.”

“Oh, we…you…we’re gonna do this now?” He stands up.

“We don’t have to. Let’s see where it goes.” You grab his hand and tilt your head at him. “If you’re okay with that.”

“It’s just…I’d want to get condoms, and I didn’t bring any because I thought this was going in a completely different direction—”

“I have some.”

“You…” He wets his lips. “Okay, yeah. Let’s, um, see where it goes.”

Chenle allows you to guide him into your room, and then he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. Giving yourself one more mental pep talk, you straddle his lap, not quite sitting all the way down yet. His breath hitches, and his fists clench at his sides.

“Relax,” you whisper. “You know I’ll take care of you. You can touch me.”

He hesitantly lifts his hands up to find your waist, barely gripping you while refusing to break eye contact.

“Have you ever kissed someone before?” you ask, unable to hide how closely you’re staring at his parted lips.

“Not recently,” he responds. “Probably not one that counts.”

“Follow my lead, okay? And you can stop me at any point if you want to.”

You adjust yourself and sink down on his lap. He’s already half hard, the firmness of his length pressing into your core.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s…”

“Don’t apologize.” You chuckle, almost breathlessly. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”

He scoffs at you, his pointed look does well in breaking the awkward tension between the two of you. You cup his cheek, eyes trailing over his face as you trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

He watches you through a curious, almost hazy gaze. Like he’s admiring you with him like this. Swallowing the rest of your nerves, you lean forward and press your mouth to his. He inhales sharply, his fingers gripping your shirt. The movement is awkward, and he doesn’t reciprocate right away.

“Chenle,” you say. “I said follow my lead. You have to…move your lips a little.”

“Sorry, it’s new—”

“Stop apologizing. There’s nothing wrong with any of it. Just listen and learn.”

He nods, and you return to kiss him. This time, he matches your movements, and that’s when you realize just how fast of a learner he is. You reach up to weave your fingers into his hair. He gasps, pulling away to look at you. Your lip gloss shines on his lips, and you’re certain that a new part of yourself has been unlocked.

“You’re…so pretty.” His voice strains.

“What do you want?” you ask.

“You.” He gulps. “I-if that’s okay.”

“Have you thought about this before?” You trace along his jawline. “Me?”

He sucks in a breath. “I didn’t mean to. At first. And then you…we talked about hooking up with people, and all I could see was you.”

“What kind of thoughts, Chenle?” While all you want to do is keep kissing him, you move your lips down from his jaw to his neck.

“(Y/N), I—”

“If you want to do this, you have to stop being scared of saying the wrong thing,” you hum, and when you find his pulse thrumming beneath your lips, you gently bite down.

“Fuck,” he chokes out. “I-I’ve seen enough porn, okay? I don’t usually think about people I know like that, but I’ve imagined what you’d feel like.”

The desperate twinge to his voice has you wishing you could clench your thighs together. You don’t want to do too much right off the bat, but he’s fully hard beneath you now, pressing directly into your core. Despite your own slight embarrassment, you allow your lips to brush his ear.

“Do you touch yourself to those thoughts?”

His grip tightens again, and his pants nearly turn into whines. “Yes.”

“I think we should slow down,” you tell him. “Don’t wanna overwhelm you.”

He sighs when you lift yourself off his lap. You take your usual spot against the wall and pat the bed next to you, and he joins you without hesitation. When you lean in to kiss him, he quickly reciprocates. You’re surprised by how fast he caught on to the movement, because the kiss is nothing but enjoyable for you.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, tapping your fingers on his upper thigh.

He nods fervently, but quickly pulls you back into a kiss. You smile against his lips before popping the button on his jeans. He curses quietly at the sound of you pulling his zipper down. You push down on them, and he lifts his hips to assist you. Pausing the kiss, you look down at where he strains in his boxers.

“It’s not gonna take very long.” He lets out a weak laugh. “Don’t wanna make a mess.”

“Let me worry about that,” you tell him.

You pull back for a split second to look at his face, finding lust waltzing around in his irises. He either can’t hide it or doesn’t want to, but you have him wrapped around your finger. His lips are swollen from kissing you, and he’s never been more attractive to you. Your thighs clench together, and the warmth between them is undeniable.

“You sure?” you whisper.

He nods, and you go back for another kiss in an attempt to distract him from you pulling at the hem of his boxers. The sound that escapes from his mouth into yours sends a shiver up your spine. God, the things you’d do to him if it wouldn’t melt his brain. You trail your finger up his length, collecting some of the precum from his tip.

He curses but doesn’t break the kiss, his hand now tightly gripping your thigh. His touch sends sparks through you, and you wrap your hand around him.

You stroke him up and down, grinning into the kiss when you feel how he pulses against your palm. He struggles to keep his focus on kissing you the longer you slowly pump his cock. You sink your teeth into his bottom lip, gently tugging it as you rub your thumb across his tip. A long moan escapes his mouth, and his head thuds back against the wall, and within seconds strings of white pump from him.

You catch as much of it as you can in your hand and kiss him again to quiet him down. This exchange is softer, slower than your previous, and he all but melts into you as he attempts to calm his breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I—”

“Don’t apologize.” You slide away from him to grab a towel from your closet. “That was the whole reason I did it.”

You won’t tell him how weak your legs are and how bad you want his hands all over you, considering it’s very likely he wouldn’t know what to do with you anyway. As soon as your hand is cleaned off, you come back to find him zipping and buttoning his pants.

“Can I ask you something?” He chews the inside of his cheek.

“Chenle, my hand was just on your penis. Of course, you can ask me anything.” You chuckle at him.

“Did that…do anything to you? Are you turned on?”

Embarrassment replaces the heat already on your cheeks as you turn to him. “I mean, yeah. But that’s a good thing, obviously.”

“You don’t want me to help you?”

For the thousandth time this weekend, you’re floundering for words in his presence, but you can’t deny how much you do, indeed, want that. You figured he’d not even think about it, leave, and then you could just take care of yourself instead.

“I…”

“If not, that’s okay. But I didn’t want to learn how it felt for just me, you know.” He shifts to the edge of the bed and holds his hand out to you. “C’mon. Show me how to help you. Besides, I definitely owe you now.”

“Okay.” You step toward him and slide your palm on his, gasping when he tugs you into him.

He moves to place your back against the mattress, your head hitting the pillows. Hovering over you, he allows his gaze to travel down to your mouth. You spread your legs to accommodate him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh.

“You could say I’ve…studied this part a little.” He wets his lips. “But I don’t hold too much stock in that stuff being real, so…”

You chuckle. “That’s good. Porn is very unrealistic.”

“How do you want me to do this?” he asks. “Um, I can use my hand or if you want oral, that’s…yeah.”

“Let’s make sure you’re good with your hands first, alright?” You weave your fingers through his hair and rub your thumb against his scalp.

“I want you to feel good, too.” He furrows his eyebrows as if he’s trying to figure something out. When he leans down, he brushes his lips against your jawline, mimicking the way you kissed his neck earlier.

“Chenle,” you whisper, letting your head fall back against the pillow. “Come lay next to me.”

He listens to you quickly, making sure your back is flat against his chest. His arm is snug around your waist as he brushes your hair out of the way to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You skin buzzes everywhere he touches you.

“Don’t be afraid of me, okay?” you tell him. “Foreplay is the most important part of sex for a girl. It’s harder for us to finish, so you’ve gotta…be deliberate.”

“Mhm,” he hums, squeezing your hip.

“You can explore.”

“Show me where.” He most likely meant it to make sure he doesn’t do anything you don’t want him to, but as you place your hand over his to guide him, more warmth spreads between your thighs. You slide him beneath your shirt, slowly moving him over your skin.

“You’re so warm.” He kisses your shoulder. “Soft.”

You stop at your breasts, a soft moan escaping you as you have him squeeze. Your head falls against his chest, and you bite your lip as you move him beneath your bra. He whispers a curse, and you can’t stop yourself from squirming against him.

You move your hand away from his, and he moves to your other breast. His thumb brushes over your nipple, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. Sure, you told him what to do, but the feeling of his fucking hands on you has your fantasies running wild.

“Was that okay?” he asks.

You nod and tug on his wrist. “Now, when you really start, you have to make sure whoever you’re with is wet. If she’s really wet, it’ll feel better for both of you.”

“How will I know the difference between—”

“Touch me.” You push him toward the apex of your thighs. “That’s what really wet feels like.”

He slides his hand beneath your shorts. “(Y/N), I don’t…I don’t know how—”

“It’s okay,” you say, putting your palm on him again. “I’ll show you.”

He cups your core and gently rubs back and forth. “Doesn’t this ruin your panties?”

“Precisely why I try to take them off as quickly as possible in these situations, smart ass.” You scoff. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’ll get messy.”

“You caught my cum in your hand. It’s the least I can do.” He shifts down a bit and waits for you to look at him so he can kiss you. In the midst of the kiss, you move him beneath your panties. He lets out a shaky sigh when he feels the wetness against his skin.

“Few, um, key things going on here,” you tell him. You position his fingers over your clit. “This is the clit. Don’t ever forget that. It’s arguably the most important thing on my body. In…this case, I mean.”

“Mhm.” His breathing is uneven against your neck, but he listens intently.

You move further down to your entrance. “This is where you’re gonna put those pretty fingers to use, okay?”

“You’re so wet,” he comments, his forehead dropping on your shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

You pull him back to your clit. “Start here. Don’t be a psycho. Going slow is good until she tells you to hurry the fuck up.”

“Stop saying it like that,” he says, allowing you to move him in whatever way will make you feel good.

“Like what?” you ask, your hips unintentionally grinding down on his fingertips.

“She. I’m with you right now. Only wanna think about you.” He clicks his tongue. “I got it now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You move your hand away from his, sighing as he continues his circles. “When you put your fingers in, use your thumb to keep rubbing the clit.”

“Is it normal that I really feel like I might cum in my pants?” He chuckles.

“Considering this is your first time touching a real vagina, yes.”

He slides his fingers inside you, the length of them alone making your eyes roll back. When you moan, he lets out a similar sound, his hips pushing against your ass. You close your eyes, truly not expecting much out of him in the slightest. You’ll probably have to remind him—

His thumb finds your clit as he starts pumping his fingers inside you, and your back arches from the pleasure. You’re desperate to finish from getting him off earlier, and you start to believe he might just get you there.

“If it’s…it’s this tight with my fingers, how does…good fucking God, (Y/N), you’re fucking perfect.” He picks up his speed a little, and you feel that knot tying deep in your stomach.

“Whatever you do, don’t fucking change anything,” you practically whimper the words out, rocking your hips in time with his hand. Your walls clamp down on his fingers, and you let out a loud moan, your nails digging into his wrist as he continues his work between your legs.

Once overstimulation sets in, you close your thighs around him until he gets the hint that you’re done. He gently removes himself from your panties and settles your shorts back in the proper spot. You pant while he kisses your neck.

“I feel like everything makes sense now,” he mutters.

“What do you mean?”

“Why people are so obsessed with sex. I get it.”

“You haven’t even had sex yet.” You chuckle and turn toward him. “Um, you can stay if you want to, but don’t feel like you have to. I know you have class tomorrow.”

“I definitely would, but I for sure came in my pants. So I’ve gotta go home and change.” He pauses and wets his lips. “If you come with me, you could stay at mine.”

“Chenle, that…” you trail off with a sigh. “That sounds like we’d be crossing a friendship line, you know?”

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Don’t even worry about it, I don’t know what’s normal in these situations, so I’ll…just go home. And I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Normal time?” His cheeks are stained pink as he lifts himself off your mattress.

You nod, frowning to yourself—you don’t want him to leave. You want him to lay next to you all night, and no part of that sounds like a good idea.

“Have a good night, Chenle.” You clasp your hands together in your lap.

“You, too.” And then he’s gone, and you fall back against your mattress.

You won’t get him out of your brain any time soon, but at the very least, you hope it’s not going to make everything awkward between the two of you. He wanted lessons, plural, so you can only think that means he’ll want to have real sex. More than once.

You grab your pillow and put it over your face, screaming into it.

This, you fear, is only the beginning.

“Chenle, it’s been two hours. Please put the book down. I can’t think anymore today.” You rest your head back on the wall.

“You’ve got a test coming up,” he mentions as he gives you a pointed look. “If you don’t do well, that’s a direct reflection on me.”

“Mm, no. I think it’s a reflection of me not being able to shove all of this in my brain.” You drop your head in your hands.

He stops for a moment, and then ultimately decides to close the book. “Maybe I should come earlier tomorrow?”

Without another thought, you rest your head on his shoulder and sigh. He tenses for a brief second, but quickly relaxes. Neither of you are quite used to the physical affection aspect, but after last night, you’re not too sure you have to hold back anymore.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“My brain hurts.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too,” you reassure him. “If there was something wrong, I’d tell you.”

“C’mere.” He wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him, all before resting his head on top of yours.

You shouldn’t enjoy it. In fact, you should be encouraging him to do the exact opposite of this, but, for some reason, you crave his comfort. Your day was unnaturally long, and with a test coming up, you need all of the support you can get.

“I know I’m not Jisung, but you can talk to me about anything, you know.” His voice rumbles quietly, and he reaches up to play with your hair.

“We shouldn’t be this close right now,” you say.

“I know.” He sighs.

Your heart twists in your chest. Both of you are fully aware of what all of this could mean—of the risk you’re taking by opening up a connection like this—but at the same time, neither of you are moving to change it.

“And it’d…be wrong to kiss you, wouldn’t it?” Chenle taps his fingers on your arm. “Because we only do that during…I don’t know, whatever you want to call them. Lessons?”

Fuck, you want to kiss him, too.

“I…I think we make the rules.” You lift your head to lean toward him. “Besides, maybe you could use another lesson. Do you want that?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “But I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m doing here.”

You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. He puts his hand on the back of your head and sighs into your kiss. You shift closer to him. With your full attention on him, you drag you hand down his chest, down, down, down—

Your front door opening sends the two of you flying apart, and you curse under your breath. Chenle gets up from your bed, but not without kissing you one last time. You hate how fucking giddy it makes you feel.

“(Y/N), are you asleep with your lights on?” Jisung’s voice carries from the living room.

“It’s almost 10 o’clock,” Chenle mutters to you.

The two of you walk out together, and Jisung glances between you and Chenle, then down at his phone to look at the time.

“Chenle’s still here.”

“Yeah, we were studying. I have a test on Friday.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I think we fell asleep for a little bit.”

“Huh.”

“I was actually just leaving.” He almost reaches out to touch you, but opts against it and nods at you instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You watch Chenle leave, and you know you’re in for a long conversation with Jisung. Rubbing your eyes, you head into your kitchen to get some water, and as soon as you take a sip, of course, Jisung opens his mouth.

“I think he’s a virgin.”

You nearly spit out your water. “What the fuck, Sungs?”

“Just in case you were thinking about doing anything with him.”

“First of all, why would him being a virgin matter? And second of all, why are you even thinking of me thinking about wanting to do something with him?”

Jisung looks you up and down. “You fell asleep, huh?”

“What?”

“Dude, look at you. Your hair’s messy, it looks like you spent an hour biting his lips, be so for real right now.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Just be gentle with him when you break his heart. I like him.”

“I’m not—Jisung, for the love of God, I don’t plan on banging him.”

“You’re such a liar. I know you too well. But I’ll let you live in your land of delusion.”

When you passed your exam (with flying colors), you hadn’t expected Chenle to show up to your house that weekend. He showed up with Thai food, a bottle of wine, and a smile to rival the entire sky full of stars outside your window.

“You passed.”

“What’s all this for?” You chuckle as you close the door behind him before following him into your kitchen. “It was just a test.”

“Just a test,” he tsks, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’ve been studying for it for weeks.”

“If you’re gonna drink, I’m not letting you drive home,” you say.

He turns to your cabinet and grabs out a couple wine glasses. “Is that okay with you?”

You nod, opening the bag he brought. Somehow, he’d gotten so comfortable here in your apartment that he was aware where you kept things. He knew what kind of Thai food you like, and if you were to taste it right now, you’d be willing to bet he knew the exact spice level you liked. He hasn’t acted weird at all since last weekend, and you’re beginning to wonder if you’re the problem. If the only reason all of these things are ‘weird’ because you’re making them that way. He seems perfectly content living whatever way the two of you have been for months now.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he fills the glasses with red liquid.

“Yeah, of course.” You accept one from him and bring it up to your lips. “Are you—Did you know you know where everything is in my apartment?”

He chuckles and scrunches his nose. “I wouldn’t say I know where everything is. But we study here all the time, so I think it’s natural to learn those things. Plus, I’m a fast learner.”

His words take you right back to last week, to him being in your bed with you, and you know damn well he’s right. Fast learner, indeed.

“I…I didn’t ask if I could do all of this, though.” Realization dawns on him as he takes in everything sprawled out on the counter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve. Honestly, I was just proud of you for passing because you’ve been working so hard. I never would do something with the intention of—”

“You ramble when you’re nervous.” You tilt your head at him.

“Long story short, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you tell him, putting your hand on his. “It’s sweet. I appreciate it, really.”

The two of you share normal, everyday conversation while you eat, and thankfully, the awkwardness fades away. You two easily finish the bottle of wine, and once you’re both done, you’re exhausted.

“You can stay with me,” you tell him. “Unless you’d be more comfortable on the couch.”

He shakes his head and follows you into your bedroom. Considering how much time he spends in there, you expect it to feel more natural to crawl into bed with him. The gentle buzz of the wine in your veins calms you, but when he’s finally next to you and you’re curling into his chest, you fear even that can’t save you from the inherent danger of the situation you’re putting yourself in.

You’ll never forget the look on his face when he first sees you naked. Nor will you forget the power it sent raging through your bloodstream. You’re straddling his lap, your mouth gently working on his as his hands explore over your back.

“Are you sure?” you ask breathlessly. “This isn’t something you can take back, you know.”

“I trust you completely. I want you.” Chenle nods as he drags his nails gently along your bare skin.

You grab the condom wrapper next to you and open it, your heart pounding in your chest as you roll it on him. His breath catches in his throat as you grip him to line him up with your entrance.

“Okay. We’re gonna do this.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He grips your hips to stop you from moving. “Don’t do this if you’re gonna regret it, (Y/N).”

“Like I could ever regret anything I do with you.” Humor laces in your tone, but he seems to understand it’s not a joke.

“Okay,” he whispers, loosening his hold on you.

You sink down slowly so as to not overwhelm him. His lips part and his brows furrow as you take him deeper. You stop to give yourself a second to adjust. The look on his face has shivers running up and down your spine, and all you want to do is move.

“This is…” he trails off, gulping.

“What?” You’re finally completely seated on his lap, gasps escaping you as you fight every urge inside you. “What is this, Lele?”

You’re halfway certain you see his eyes roll.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he mutters and rubs up and down your thigh. “You…fuck, this feels…good.”

“I’m gonna start moving, okay?”

“Please.”

You watch closely as you lift up and slide back down, refusing to let your eyes flutter shut for even a moment. He inhales sharply through his teeth. It’s been a good amount of time since you’ve done this, and something about knowing the man beneath you is Chenle spurs you further.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip, digging his nails into you. “I—I can’t—”

“Don’t hold back for me,” you scold him. “It’s okay to cum first.”

“Too fast.” He shakes his head, his words practically slurred together. “You’re more important.”

“Do you know how unlikely it is that I’ll cum first in, like, the first few times—”

“You arguing is helping a little bit.” His gaze flicks up to the ceiling and then down to where the two of you are connected. “Or not. Fuck.”

“Worry about feeling it first before you think about stamina.” You roll your hips, smirking as he inhales sharply.

“I am…feeling a whole lot of things right now.” He allows his touch to trail down to your ass. When he squeezes, it causes you to lift up, and the friction has his head falling back against the wall with a thud.

“Good God, be careful,” you scold him.

“To be honest, I’m not too worried about this head.” He lets out a breathless laugh. “I’m good. You can move.”

“You can stop me if it’s too much,” you remind him.

He nods, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for you to continue. You’re almost embarrassed by the sounds of your wetness when you lift up, but seeing him clench his jaw and the slightest eye roll puts you on a little bit of a power trip. You set a steady but slow pace, biting back your own moans so you can pay attention to him. It’s like a whine leaves his mouth every time your walls take him completely.

You pull him back to you so your chest presses against his and you wrap your arms over his shoulders. He leans in to kiss you without hesitation, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, and his moan allows you entrance. That sound turns into a whine, and you know he’s close. He desperately reaches between the two of you, his thumb swiping over your clit. The shock from the move has your back arching, and your walls squeeze around his cock.

His hips jolt up, slamming his tip deep inside you as his face contorts in pleasure. With his nails digging into your thighs, he pants, chest heaving.

“God damn it,” he groans.

“I’ve never seen anyone so upset about cumming.”

“I feel like I’m already behind. The least I can do is be good at it.” He runs his hands down his face. “You didn’t even—”

“This isn’t about me,” you remind him.

He frowns. “Uh, yes it is. I’m literally inside you right now. That means it’s definitely about you, too.”

“Lele, relax. You’ll get better with time.” You press a kiss to his cheek and shakily lift yourself off him.

He catches you off guard by pulling you back, and the next thing you know, your back is against your mattress, and his fingers trace shapes on your thighs.

“Haven’t you learned how competitive I am yet?” He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Can I?”

You’re not a hundred percent sure exactly what he’s referring to, but you nod anyway. When he kisses you, it’s soft and sweet, almost distracting enough to make it hard for you to realize how close his fingers dance to your core.

“One day you’ll cum with me inside you,” he whispers into your mouth. “The fucking lengths I’d go to.”

He wastes no time in sliding two fingers in. Your back arches into him, and you hold the back of his head to keep his lips on yours. He didn’t lie when he said he was a fast learner—you told him how to make sure you feel good too one time and he fucking ran with it. With his thumb on your clit, he kisses down your neck. You have no idea what’s happening to you, but you’ve never been like this with anyone. Maybe it’s because you trust him, too.

His lips wrap around your nipple and the world comes crashing down around you as pleasure sparks over your skin. You gasp and dig your nails into his skin. When your senses come back, he’s pulling his fingers out of you and moving up to kiss you again, the softness of his movements making you sigh all over again.

“(Y/N), I think I—” he cuts himself off, wetting his lips.

Your heart stops in your chest when you hear his tone, and half of you wants to ask him to continue. The other knows damn well you shouldn’t.

“I…don’t really know what to do with the condom.”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing, but you tell him the proper disposal method. When he comes back, he pulls your comforter back and helps you under it before climbing in next to you.

“Is it okay if I stay?” he asks softly. “If it’s weird, I can go.”

“Don’t.” You shake your head, shuffling closer. “It feels right.”

“Yeah, it does.” His voice is so soft, you barely hear it. He presses his lips to the top of your head, leaving them there for a moment longer than necessary, and then he inhales deeply. You drift off to sleep before you fully feel him exhale.

Despite the obvious, you hadn’t expected Chenle to be completely normal in all other circumstances. He hasn’t touched you excessively in front of other people. When you’re focusing on studying, he doesn’t try to make a move on you. Over the course of two weeks, you’d spent most of those nights with him, teaching him all there is to know about female anatomy.

He didn’t lie about being a fast learner. You find yourself looking forward to the moments where you’re alone with him, where you get to be tangled up in sheets and forget the rest of the world exists.

There have been a few times where he’d gotten you close to finishing first, but much to his frustration, he still couldn’t hold back.

You’d convinced him to go to Jaemin’s party while he was in the middle of kissing your neck. And as a thank you, you’d shown him the wonders of a blowjob. By the time he’s ready for a relationship, you’re sure he’ll have nothing to worry about.

Except, you do. Because the thought of him dating someone else after spending this time with you has an unsettling feeling stirring in your stomach.

You ignore it the best way you know how—by talking to someone else you’ll pretend to entertain. Sitting between Jeno and Chenle’s friend Mark, you laugh along to whatever they’re talking about. Truth be told, you have no fucking clue what that may be, but they’re encouraged by you.

Chenle sits across from you, trying his best not to stare. He nurses his drink and talks to Jisung, but his attention is never truly off you. The second Jeno’s hand comes in contact with your thigh, Chenle abruptly stands from his seat and practically stomps out without a word to anyone.

You frown at Jisung, who shrugs. He’s not much help after he’s been drinking. With a sigh, you get up and follow him wherever he may have gone. You see the top of his head as he makes his way toward the door through the crowd.

He makes it outside and down the porch steps before you catch up to him and grab his wrist.

“Let me go.” His voice is colder than you’ve ever heard it.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snap.

He whirls around, eyes wide and full of something you can’t make out. “I get you can still do whatever—whoever—you want, but right in front of me? Do you have any idea how fucking—God, it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, now you’re embarrassed of me?” You scoff.

“Not for you. For me.” He most likely has no clue he’s shouting, but his breath leaves a frigid cloud in the air. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“Chenle, keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss.

He sucks in a shaky breath. “How? I—I don’t know how to handle any of this. We agreed it doesn’t…mean much, but doesn’t it fucking mean something?”

Your heart trembles in your chest, and you gulp. How do you respond to that? Of course, it means something, but what that is, you’re unsure of. How do you tell him that?

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he asks, exasperated.

You recoil, frowning as you take him in.

“Go ahead and fuck Jeno, (Y/N). It’s not my business, right? I have no reason to be upset. At the very least, just act like you care about me a little bit, alright? I don’t want to see you…want someone else.”

“I do care,” you say quickly, grabbing his wrist. “It’s not like that, okay?”

“So, what is it?” he breathes out, a short laugh escaping his throat. “Are you tired of teaching me? You want someone who’s better?”

“Stop.”

“What the hell else am I supposed to think? Will I ever be enough for you—”

“I said stop.” You don’t mean to yell, not really, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you slap a hand over it.

Chenle flinches, realization quickly dawning on his face. “I’m sorry. God, I don’t know what the fuck that was, and it’s definitely not my place to tell you—”

“Just stop,” you say weakly, blinking back the tears welling in your eyes. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Fuck, don’t cry. Please.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that shit. You don’t owe me anything, okay? We both know that and we both know you’re doing me a fucking favor, so I’m gonna be better, I promise. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“Maybe we should stop.” You wipe at your eyes.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me, Lele.” You sniffle. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“(Y/N), I—I’m drunk, for fuck’s sake. And, yeah, I’m a fucking idiot who tried to…control you and what you do with your body, and that’s so messed up. I’m really sorry for that. But honestly, it’s pride and ego. It felt like I wasn’t…like I don’t give you what you need, so you’ve gotta find it from someone else. That’s all.”

“I wanna go home.”

“Okay, we can go—”

“You need to go home, too.” You look down at your feet. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay with me tonight.”

“Don’t do this—”

“It’s one night. You need to respect what I’m asking for.”

He stares at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I think you should go back in there with Jisung, and he’ll make sure you get home in one piece.”

“(Y/N)...”

“Goodnight, Chenle.”

Being alone in your house makes you regret your decision to send him home. You barely drank at all, so you can’t blame any of your emotions on the alcohol content in your bloodstream. God, how do you describe what the fuck is going on inside you?

Chenle keeps his distance from you for a few days. You and Jisung are splitting some drinks in his apartment when he decides to bring it up, analyzing you for your reaction as he speaks.

“Did something happen with you and Chenle?”

“Why do you think that?” You take a giant sip of your drink, cringing at the taste.

“Don’t do that. I was being nice. I know something happened because I saw you guys argue outside the party, and he’s been a miserable lump for four days now.” Jisung crosses his arms over his chest. “You hurt his feelings.”

“I don’t want to talk about Chenle.”

“And what if you fail physics, dude?”

“Jisung, fuck physics.” You drop your head into your palms. “I invited you over to drink and not think about the real world. So if you’re going to bring him up, please just go home.”

“Oh.” Jisung pauses, slowly leaning forward until his elbows are braced on his knees. “(Y/N).”

“No, Jisung. No. I just…want peace, okay? I can’t do this right now.” You shake your head.

“Alright.” Jisung stands. “I’ll leave you alone. But we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

You don’t say a word as he leaves, but you do chug the rest of what’s in your can. Chenle hasn’t so much as texted you. Why would you want to talk about him? Doesn’t Jisung know how royally fucked everything is between the two of you. Instead of going to bed like you should, you sit on your couch and stare up at your ceiling, occasionally pausing to take a sip of the new drink you opened. By the time your door opens again, you think you’re dreaming. You see Chenle in front of you, and in your hazy mind, you want nothing more than to touch his ethereal, angelic face.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Are you okay?”

You groan, sniffling.

“C’mon, you gotta get some sleep.” His words make your head whirl even more.

“Lele?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re real?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m real.” His voice sinks into your skin, and you lean into him immediately.

“Help.” You hold your hands out to him.

He loops his arm around your waist and guides you into your bedroom. “How much did you drink?”

“Not a lot,” you mutter, your words slurring together. “I’ve had more.”

He scoffs. “You’re ridiculous.”

You flop into your bed, and you swear your sheets still smell like him. He should be tangled up with you every night, holding you close to him like you’re the only thing that matters. You should be. The only thing. Chenle hesitates before climbing in next to you.

“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper as his chest settles against your back. “We’re both fucking stupid if we want other people.”

“Sh.” He makes the gesture so softly, you almost miss it. “We’ll talk tomorrow, baby. Get some sleep.”

You wake to lips on your shoulder. Shuffling closer to Chenle, you groan at the brightness of the sun.

“Careful,” he mutters, squeezing his arm around your waist.

“What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“What?” You attempt to shoot up in bed, but you groan and slump back in your spot. “Fuck. Don’t we have class?”

“We had class, yeah.” Chenle tightens his grip around you and traces shapes on your hip. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

You remember Chenle telling you he’d never missed a class in his life. How he’d always known how important every single lesson was, and how he’d never miss for something unimportant.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him.

He frowns. “What for?”

“I did it on purpose. Well, not really. But I was trying to distance myself from you because we were…I don’t know, spending a lot of time together. It was fucking weird.”

“Do you not want that?” he asks.

“I do. And it’s weird that I do.” You bury yourself in his chest. “Can we forget everything today? I just want you.”

“Of course,” he whispers. “That sounds perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, a deep hum escaping him as he rests his head on top of yours. You breathe him in. You wonder what it’ll take to get through your own confusion, and if it’s even worth dragging him along with you. His fingertips comb through your hair. And for the first time in weeks, the only movement between the two of you is steady breathing.

A few more days pass, and the two of you haven’t resumed despite agreeing not to stop. You assume he’s too awkward to ask, and he’s awaiting your nudge to tell him it’s okay. But you realized that part of him gaining confidence is about letting him figure it out.

You’re sitting on your couch with his head in your lap, fingers sifting through his hair as the TV plays quietly in front of you. A lot of time spent with him feels oddly domestic. You’ve never let Jisung lay on you like this, so what exactly is the extent of what’s running through your mind?

He shifts on his back, grabbing your hand. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

He sits up and faces you, gaze traveling over you briefly. “Are we…You said you wanted to stop, and then you said you didn’t want to stop. And we never talked about it. So, please don’t think I’m trying to pressure you or anything, but I think it’s worth a conversation.”

“You’re right.” You cross your legs and turn toward him. “What the hell was all of that?”

“I really don’t know. Like, logically, you weren’t doing anything to spite me, but it just…felt like I’d never be good enough. Not just for you but for anyone. It wasn’t fair of me to take that out on you, and you’re obviously more than welcome to do whatever the hell you want with your body.”

“What part of you isn’t good enough?”

He sighs and clasps his hands together. “C’mon, (Y/N), I haven’t been able to make you finish first. And you can say whatever you want, but it’s gotta be frustrating—”

“Chenle.” You shuffle closer to him. “If it were frustrating, do you really think I’d keep going back for more? You still take the time to make sure I’m good, even if it’s not before you, which is more than what a lot of guys can say. Relax.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why that’s immediately where I went when I saw that guy touch you. To be honest, I’ve never…felt anything like that before. And it scared me, so I figured it’d be better to leave.” He picks at the seam of his jeans.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” you ask.

Chenle nods, glancing down at your lips. You give him a small smile before leaning in and pressing your mouth to his. He sighs as if he’s melting into you, and his hand moves to the back of your head.

“I missed this,” he murmurs.

“Me, too,” you admit.

No matter how much you want to, you don’t push further. You wait for him to make that decision. He pulls away briefly as if to analyze you, and then he moves back in with determination. Without a word, you allow him to guide you until your back is against the couch cushions.

You throw your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. With a gentle roll of his hips, his clothed length presses against you. He kisses down your neck, gently nipping at your skin. Finally, he lifts up to press his lips to your ear.

“You know, people radiate more thermally per volume than the sun.” His hand trails down your body, slipping into your shorts to cup your core over your panties. “And you’ve got me fucking addicted to you, for fuck’s sake.”

“Did you just tell me a physics fact right now?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

He grins. “Yeah, I did. It felt like it fit the situation.”

“It’s so fucking weird that I found that hot.” And then you pull him back into a kiss while you roll against his hand.

“Oh, good.” He moves your panties aside and slides his fingers along your entrance. “Can I go down on you?”

“Huh?” Your eyes shoot open and you grab his wrist.

“You’ve gone down on me, but I’ve never…” He gulps and nudges your clit with his fingertips. “Do you not want me to?”

“I’m just…shocked.” You let out a shaky breath as he circles you. “That you want to.”

“I want anything that’ll make you feel good.” He pulls at the hem of your panties, only to let them smack back against your skin.

“You know I’m not gonna say no.” You lift your hips to encourage him to undress you.

He smirks and removes his hand from your core. “I like to hear you want me.”

“Can you do me a favor?” You trace along his bottom lip, entranced in the thought of his head between your thighs.

“Anything.”

“Keep the glasses on when you do it.”

He raises an eyebrow, but you’re quickly distracted by the way he tugs your shorts and panties off in one movement. You’re not sure where the determination on his face comes from—or the confidence and knowledge—but he starts by pressing open mouthed kisses around your inner thigh.

“You’re so pretty everywhere,” he mutters, tongue running along your skin.

You let your head drop back against the couch and reach to card your fingers through his hair. He hums into you as he trails closer and closer to your core. You usually try to refrain from squirming too much or letting him know just how fucking needy you are, but the thought of his lips on you is driving you up the fucking wall.

“Lele, don’t tease me,” you whine, shifting so you can see him.

His gaze flicks up, a look within you’ve never seen before. You did something to him, and you’re more than ready to find out. He narrows his eyes slightly as he analyzes you before he dips his head back down. His tongue starts at your entrance, and he flattens it and moves upward until he takes your clit in his mouth.

You gasp, wanting nothing more than to throw your head back, but you refuse—you need to see him. He sucks on your bud and flicks it with his tongue, and you grip his hair.

“I didn’t fucking teach you that,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving.

He pulls away just long enough to say, “Porn isn’t completely useless now, is it?”

You’re dazed already, watching as he pleasures you. He moans against you, and the vibrations course through you. You’re not sure what made you ask him to keep the glasses on, but you’re appreciating it now more than ever—he’s between your legs with his face buried in the very apex of your thighs, and every time you squirm, you feel the thick frames of his glasses.

“Fingers,” you tell him. “Fuck, use your fingers.”

He doesn’t let up, immediately listening and thrusting two inside you. Your back arches as you moan and push him further against you. Everything becomes a blur, and when he curls his fingers just the way you taught him, you’re practically thrashing beneath him.

A strangely masculine scream robs your body of the high you were two seconds away from, and Chenle freezes and lifts himself to cover a bit more of you. Embarrassment floods through your body.

“What the fuck?” Jisung shouts, hands slapped over his eyes. “(Y/N), I sit on that couch!”

“That’s really what you’re worried about?” You scoff and grab the throw blanket from the back. Chenle helps you spread it out so he can safely move away from his spot. You cover him, too, considering the noticeable bulge in his pants.

“You should save all sexual activity for your bedroom—”

“Says the guy who was telling me how he fucked a girl on the kitchen counter,” you shoot back. “We’re covered.”

He drops his hands from his eyes and shivers like this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

“I’m gonna puke. Chenle, wipe your fucking mouth.” Jisung clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head. “What the fuck?”

Chenle’s ears turn pink, and he uses the blanket to remove what’s left of your arousal from his face. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you study him—

“My God, are you gonna eat him alive?” Jisung scolds you. “Right in front of me? I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me you’re together.”

You and Chenle exchange glances before you both look back at Jisung.

“No. No, no, no.” He drops his head into his hands. “You mean to tell me you’re not?”

“Can we do this later?” you ask.

“What?”

“I agree,” Chenle adds. “You should come back in like an hour. Or two. Because to be honest, I don’t really care if you’re here or not, I’m gonna fuck her.”

Everything inside you heats up again, and you gape at Chenle. Jisung lets out a dramatic scream and slams the door behind him.

“What the hell was that?” You push Chenle’s shoulder.

“The truth,” he says. “I want you so fucking bad right now.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up and put this extra time to good use.” You lean forward and kiss him hard, holding onto the back of his neck. He inhales sharply but wastes no time in reciprocating. With one quick movement, the blanket once covering you is tossed to the floor, and he’s between your legs.

While his mouth works against yours, he almost frantically moves his hands beneath your shirt and only breaks where you’re connected to pull it off. His urgency takes you off-guard, but you can’t deny the thrill running through your veins and the wetness rushing to your core.

You grab at his shirt, and he sits up on his knees to take it off. Practically lunging forward, you unbutton his pants. As soon as his zipper’s down, he grabs your wrist.

“Turn around.”

“Huh?” you ask.

“Turn around,” he repeats. “You know what I want.”

With anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how much his request turned you on. You flip over and lift yourself to your knees. You arch your back and let your head rest against the couch cushion, and his groan reverberates through your entire being.

His hands grip your ass, nails digging in as he squeezes hard. “Do you have any fucking idea how bad I wanted you to cum on my tongue?”

“Was pretty close.” You push back against him.

“Think he’s listening?” Chenle asks, tapping your hip before flattening his palm over your stomach. “Just a little curious about us, huh?”

His touch burns against you in the best ways, and after being as close as you were, you’re desperate for him to make you finish. You cry out when he puts two fingers on your clit and rubs slow circles. Gripping onto the cushion below you, you rock your hips in rhythm with him.

“You said you’re on birth control, right?” he murmurs, seemingly distracted by the way your arousal coats his skin.

You nod fervently.

“Is…” He pauses, cursing under his breath. “No condom is okay? I can, um, finish inside you?”

Your eyes roll back. “Fuck, of course, you can. I need you right now.”

He shuffles behind you, and you wish you could see what he was doing. His fingers slow, but your whine is cut short when he slides his length against you to collect the wetness.

“A-and there’s…no risk?” He gulps.

“C’mon, you little science nerd, you know there’s always a risk.” You chuckle airly. “That’s part of what makes it fun.”

He hums and removes his fingers from you, grabbing his cock and jerking himself off a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“You’re sure this is okay, baby?” Chenle’s free hand squeezes your ass again.

“For fuck’s sake, Lele, please—” You’re cut off by his tip ever so slowly stretching you to accommodate him. You gasp, immediately pushing back to take more of him. This angle has you seeing stars. Once he bottoms out, he lets out a long moan.

“So good,” he whines, just barely rocking his hips. “You’re so fucking good.”

He reaches around you again to circle your clit, and then he starts to thrust. Your eyes roll and your body melts, everything around you becoming blurry as he sets a steady pace that has your toes curling.

You attempt to assist him, every time he’s entering you, you push back to take him harder. One hand grips your hip, and the other frantically works between your legs. You can’t even think straight, moans pouring out in unison with his. A knot starts to form in your stomach, and you attempt to shut your thighs.

“‘M close.” You gasp, legs beginning to shake. “Fuck, ‘m gonna—”

You let out your loudest moan yet as you spasm around him, overwhelmed from the pleasure. Sensitivity sets in quickly, but you need him to cum inside you. He lets out a high pitched noise, and the next thing you know, he’s pressing his hips against you, burying himself as deep as he can to fill you with his load.

Both of you pant, unable to move for a moment. Once he regains some of his composure, he slowly pulls out of you, sighing at the feeling. He turns you on your back and kisses you slow, his lips working to part yours as he slides his tongue in.

You smile, unable to hold it back when you think of how much he’s learned in such a short period of time.

“You did it,” you tease him.

“That was the best fucking feeling in the world,” he tells you. “I’m never cumming first again.”

You laugh and push at his shoulder. “That’s not really something you get to just manifest into the universe.”

“Maybe not.” He shrugs, sheepishly grinning at you. “You want new clothes?”

“It’d be really great if you could grab me a towel, actually.”

“A towel?” He frowns.

“You see, Lele, when you fuck raw, messes occur.” You chuckle. “That’s a good thought for the future. Aftercare includes towels.”

“The future?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“I just meant—” Your face heats up. “Like, whoever you end up with. It’s important.”

“Right.” The playful gleam on his face fades, and as he leans back to get up and retrieve what you need, he stops to stare at the apex of your thighs. “It comes out.”

You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the abrupt laugh. “Yes, it does. What did you think happened? It magically gets absorbed into vagina land?”

“Well…yeah.” He shrugs, wetting his lips. “But this is so much hotter. I might get hard again.”

“You psycho, go get a towel.” You push at him, and he bursts into laughter as he tucks himself back in his boxers and jeans before heading toward your bathroom.

When he comes back, he helps you clean up. His touch is tender, gentle, and it makes you want to wrap him up in your blankets and stay in your bed all day with him. He grabs the throw blanket from the floor, lays down on top of you, and rests his head on your chest. You hum in content and run your fingers through his hair.

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that, but you find yourself drifting off to sleep. Just before you do, a phone vibrates on the coffee table. Chenle groans.

“Who’s is it?” you ask.

He lifts his head to look. “Mine. The one time it actually rings—should I just ignore it?”

“No, it’s okay.” You sigh and rub your eyes. “Answer.”

He kisses your forehead before getting up. After he has the blanket on you again, he reaches for his phone and answers it.

“Yeah?”

As soon as the other person speaks, he tenses and sits straight up.

“That was today? Are you still there? I’m so sorry, I can be there in fifteen minutes if that works.” He pauses and massages his forehead. “Yeah, I understand. It won’t happen again.”

After a few more moments of listening, Chenle hangs up the phone. He curses and reaches down to grab his shirt from the floor. When he turns to you, you’re watching him with a concerned look on your face.

“One of my professors assigned a group project, and we were supposed to present today. Like…twenty minutes ago. It’s literally twenty percent of my fucking grade.” Despite his anxious energy, he gives you a gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry, babe, I’ll come back later, okay?”

You don’t have time to answer, because he grabs his wallet and keys and bolts out the door. Not that you would’ve been able to anyway—shock courses through you at the pet name. Sure, he says things during sex, but the two of you have never…nicknamed each other outside of that.

You sit up in confusion and scratch the top of your head. What the fuck is going on with you and Chenle?

After you shower and get dressed, you go over to Jisung’s. You’re glad Chenle won’t have to sit through this. When you’re on Jisung’s couch with a bowl of popcorn, he begins his in-depth interview.

“You’re not dating?”

“Nope.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Jisung,” you deadpan. “I think it’s pretty obvious. He’s helping me with physics, and I’m helping him—”

“Did he say you had to—”

“Park Jisung, this is Chenle you’re talking about. You really think he’s capable of something like that?” You put another handful of popcorn in your mouth.

“Fine. Then tell me how it started. I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me. Your best friend. I tell you when I hook up with people.” He frowns at you.

“Well, one day, we were doing physics homework.”

“Wow, so sexy.”

“Shut up.” You send a glare his way. “Anyway, he was telling me about the ever-expanding universe or whatever, and…like, when he gets super passionate about something, he’s attractive. Like more than usual, you know? So, I asked him why he hadn’t ever dated anyone before.”

“And then you banged him?” Jisung purses his lips. “That’s…well, to be fair, I kind of expected that portion of it.”

You flip him off. “No, that’s not how it happened. Just listen, would you?”

“Fine, fine.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“He said he didn’t have any prospects so obviously I was like…be for real, dude. He’s…attractive, you know? And then he said he was busy, and then I asked what about hooking up with people? Because you can still hook up and not date.”

“That kinda sounds like he was making excuses for not wanting to date.”

“Yeah, maybe. But he was also a virgin.”

“What?” Jisung’s jaw drops, and he drags his hands down his face. “(Y/N), are you insane? He’s probably unhealthily obsessed with you—”

“He showed up the next day and asked me to…teach him how to have sex. And I’d been dickless for…shit, months at least, so of course, I said yes.” You purse your lips and stare down at your lap. “He’s still learning.”

“When was this?”

“Um…” you hesitate, fidgeting with your fingers. “Remember that party where you said you saw us all angry and stuff?”

“Yeah?”

“Like, a few weeks before that.”

“Holy fucking shit, (Y/N), you’ve been fucking him for that long?” Your best friend lets out an exasperated sigh. “You realize he’s in love with you, right?”

Your head shoots up and you stare at the man on the couch. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, but no dude like him is gonna be able to stop himself from falling in love with a girl he’s been fucking for months. Guys are really oddly attached to their firsts, you know. And that reaction at the party. He’s been missing classes. It’s like you’ve taken over his whole life.”

The rose-colored glasses shatter, and you recall what happened just hours before. He’d missed the presentation of his project. Your throat closes in on itself and you slap a hand to your forehead. Sure, you asked him to tell you if he was starting to catch feelings, but you should’ve known better than to think he’d even realize it before it was too late.

“If you don’t even have a smidge of feelings for him, you’ve gotta stop all of this. For his sake.” Jisung moves over to you so he can give you a supportive hug. “You know he deserves someone who will love him.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you say quickly. “I’ll prove it to you. You’ll see at the party this weekend. He’ll pull some random girl.”

“Sure…” he trails off. “We’ll see, I guess.”

You don’t want to stop.

That’s the only thing whirling through your head when Chenle tells you he’s on his way back to you. Your nerves churn until you’re sick to your stomach, but there’s not a damn thing you can do to change it. He’d never tell you if he got feelings for you. You should’ve known better than to expect that from him. After all, you guys spend nearly every day together, and you don’t have sex all of those days. Or learn physics. Sometimes, the two of you just lay on your bed together, your head buried in his neck, legs tangled until you don’t know which ones are yours anymore.

If he doesn’t put up a fight, it means Jisung was wrong. And that also means you don’t have to distance yourself. If he does…

“(Y/N)?” His voice carries from your living room.

“In here,” you call out to him.

Chenle’s footsteps are barely audible as he makes his way over to you. His form takes up the door frame, where he pauses to study you. He lets his backpack fall from his shoulder, and then he’s climbing onto your bed. With a long sigh, he finds his spot next to you and wraps his arm around your middle.

“That bad?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe I forgot that.”

You pause for a moment, and the two of you are cascaded into a blanket of silence. He must sense the awkwardness in the air, given the way he gulps and his heart rate speeds up. You lean back to get a good view of his face.

“Why did you?” you ask quietly.

“What?”

“Forget. Why did you forget?”

He blinks, lips parting while he searches for something to say. “I…I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve never done something like that before. I’m glad the teacher still let me present, otherwise I would’ve lost my top spot. And I think that’s the only reason why she did.”

“And you were…okay with that?” You recoil.

“At the time, it really freaked me out.” He frowns. “But even if I lost the top spot, I’d still be in the top ten, so…(Y/N)?”

You roll away from him and out of his grasp, planting your feet on the floor. An overwhelming guilt floods you as you bury your head in your hands. The man in your bed just a couple months ago would’ve dropped dead at a statement like that. He could’ve gone on for hours about how important that spot was to him, and what the hell’s he willing to give that up for?

“Are you okay?” Chenle sits up behind you, fingertips brushing your arm.

“We have to stop.” It was supposed to come out much stronger than it did, but at least you didn’t have to look at him.

“Wha—how did that even—why?” He adjusts to sit next to you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” you snap. “What the fuck is top ten to someone like you? School has been everything to you, and you’re forgetting projects like it means nothing. Have you even been doing your work? You’re with me all the time, and the only thing you’ve been doing school wise is helping me with physics.”

“It was one time, (Y/N), okay?”

“Now you’re lying to me,” you groan in exasperation.

“I…” He gulps and turns his head away from you.

“I told you to tell me if you ever caught feelings, Chenle.” You blink back tears and chew the inside of your cheek while you await his response.

But no matter how much you wait, it doesn’t come. His hands are clasped together in his lap, and he stares down at them, inhaling shaky breaths.

“My God, you’re not even denying it.” You stand up, unable to stop yourself from pacing around the room. “This is what’s making you all complacent about school? Seriously? This is the exact reason you said you didn’t want to date. Or find someone to sleep with, because you didn’t have time—”

“I actually said it was because I hadn’t found anyone worth it,” he finally speaks up, gaze finally lifting to meet yours. “What did you expect would happen? You really thought the virgin would be able to stop himself from falling for you after everything we’ve done? I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted, or if you wanted me to tell you, but by the time I actually realized what was happening, it was too late. I’d lose you. In all aspects, not just…whatever the hell this is.”

“You need to go.”

“After all of this, you don’t even…not even a little bit?”

You do. How do you tell him no and lie right to his face?

“I just put everything out there. The least you can do at this point is tell me if all of this only meant something to me.” Desperation tugs on his features, and he takes a step closer to you. “Did you spend every night with me and still not…”

“Stop,” you shout. “What the hell are you thinking? What is it that you want me to say? It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t have feelings for you, because I would never—”

“Date me?” he interrupts you. “Love me? What’s so bad about either of those things? I’m trying my best out here.”

“Would you let me finish?” You run your fingers through your hair. “I was going to say I would never let you give up your number one spot for any girl. Not just me. Because that’s fucking stupid. And you’re not stupid, Chenle, so you need to remember what’s actually important.”

“(Y/N), please. I can’t go back to how things were. Not when I know what all of this is like.”

“Then maybe we just don’t talk at all.” You clench your fists at your side. The idea breaks your own heart. “It’s not like we have any classes together. The only time we see each other is here anyway.”

“You haven’t denied it, either.” He’s directly in front of you now, watery eyes staring into yours. “You made a big deal of me not denying it, but you haven’t either.”

“Get out.” You point toward your door. “Leave me alone. Just go.”

Now he’s speechless, and the hurt on his face plays out right in front of you. You want to yell and scream because you’re the one causing this. You should’ve seen this coming. When he first approached you and asked you for this, you should’ve said no. If you had turned him away, things would be normal. He wouldn’t have turned complacent about the thing he once cared the most about. But what did that mean? Was it you he was willing to give it up for, or was it the freedom and new experiences you provided?

“You…what about your exam? It’s only a couple weeks before the end of the semester.”

“Don’t worry about me or my grades when you’re not even thinking of your own. Please, Chenle, just go. I’ll bring Jisung here if I have to.” You sniffle, rolling your eyes.

His jaw tightens as he glances up at the ceiling. “Fine. I…Clearly, nothing I say is gonna—yeah. I guess I’ll see you around.”

He grabs his backpack from the floor and slings it over his shoulder, and as soon as he closes the door behind him, you climb into your bed, grab the pillow he always uses, and cradle it to your chest. You don’t mean to let yourself cry, but once you start, you can’t stop.

You barely even remembered telling Jisung that Chenle would go to the party that weekend. To be honest, you’d told him about it, but hope that he won’t come gnaws at the edges of your heart. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to go. And if your best friend hadn’t practically forced you out of bed and to get dressed, you wouldn’t have.

You and Jisung went separate ways once you arrived at Jaemin’s house. Absent-mindedly, you find yourself in the kitchen, mixing a drink. The only way you’ll get through the night is with liquor. Once you walk back towards the living room, you see Jisung standing at the corner. He grins when he notices you.

“Dude, I so thought you were fucking with me. I’ll give it to you though, I guess you were right. You must be a good tutor.” Jisung lets out an obnoxious laugh. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“What are you talking about?” You frown.

He nods his head in the opposite direction, and when you follow his gaze, you immediately tense. Of course, Chenle did show up. Not only that, but he’s in full-on conversation with a girl you don’t recognize. Your throat tightens, but you swiftly attempt to ignore it with a quick sip of your drink.

“Never thought he’d get there,” Jisung evaluates him. “She looks like she’s into him.”

“Great.” You try your best not to sound sarcastic.

Jisung side eyes you, but he doesn’t say anything else. He crosses his arms over his chest and proceeds to watch Chenle, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to look in his direction. Your desire to be at this party has significantly decreased, and all you want to do is walk out and forget you ever saw him here. But it doesn’t matter either way—you sent him away. You have no right to be jealous or upset that he’s doing exactly what you taught him to do. If he wants to find a girlfriend or a fling, that’s up to him. And neither option should make you upset, no matter how much you can’t deny that it very much does.

“Oh, shit,” Jisung mutters, a chuckle escaping him.

Your head shoots in Chenle’s direction, and you bristle at the sight. He whispers something in the girl’s ear, and she laughs. Your chest tightens, somewhat desperate to know what he said to her—if it was any of the things he’s ever said to you. Maybe it was something you taught him. He leans away from her, but not all the way. The smile drops from her face, and you know immediately what’s about to happen. You push your cup against Jisung’s chest until he takes it from you.

“I can’t do this.” You shake your head and bolt in the opposite direction, toward the front door. Tears well in your eyes, but they only serve to piss you off. You shouldn’t care—you told him you didn’t.

Jisung drove you, so there’s nowhere for you to go except the front porch. You sit down on the top step, head buried in your palms. Taking a deep breath, you look up in time to see Karina walking out of the house with her keys.

“Are you going home?” you ask.

“Yeah, tonight’s kinda lame.” She scans over you and purses her lips. “You want a ride? I didn’t drink.”

“Fuck, yes. Please.” You launch up and follow Karina to her car.

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask you any questions on the way to your place. As you thank her and step out of the car, she grabs your wrist.

“I think I know what’s going on.” She pauses. “If there’s something you want, (Y/N), you shouldn’t let it go. Because you’ll regret it, okay?”

You nod and gulp. “Thanks, Rina.”

She lets you go and smiles. You close the car door behind you and head up to your apartment, questioning how you let yourself get into this predicament. Why the you from a few months ago didn’t have any clue how easy it would be to fall for someone like Chenle—a man with a kind heart, who cares for you and your wellbeing. You stare at your phone like it’ll light up from his text message, but you put a decent wedge between the two of you with your last conversation. Would he even look at his phone if you texted him? Maybe he’s already taking that girl home. He may learn it wasn’t even you he fell for, but the sex. And when he has sex with another girl, he’ll figure out you’re not special, and—

“God fucking damn it,” you groan, angrily wiping at your tears. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Your phone vibrates, but it’s a call from Jisung. You sniffle and clear your throat before answering.

“Yeah?”

“Where the hell did you go?” he snaps.

“I’m at home,” you tell him. “Rina drove me home.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” Jisung’s annoyance creeps through. “You just stormed out, but I figured you’d at least tell me if you were leaving the area.”

“Sungs, I’m not really in the mood to be yelled at right now.” You can’t hide the crack in your voice.

“Are you okay?” His voice instantly softens. “Is this about—”

“Don’t. I don’t want anyone else you’re with to know. It’s humiliating, isn’t it? Teaching a man everything you know for him to use it other places.” You chuckle, staring up at your ceiling.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Jisung sighs. “Because you clearly didn’t want him talking to that girl.”

“You’re making me sound pathetic.”

“Uh.”

“Fuck you, Park Jisung.” You roll your eyes. “You’re not helping.”

“Do you want me to come over?” he asks.

“Stay at the party. I’ll be okay.” You grab Chenle’s pillow and pull it to your chest. “Is he…did he leave?”

“He’s not with her, if that’s what you’re asking. He left. By himself. After I figured out you were gone, I kinda freaked out and there was like…a search party. He didn’t care much about her after that.”

“He’s so annoying,” you huff out. “Why couldn’t he have just…fucked that girl or something?”

“Like you wouldn’t have crumbled to dust at the literal thought of that.” Jisung scoffs. “I know you, (Y/N), and no matter what you say, there’s no way you feel absolutely nothing for him. You’re both suffering because of the denial, you know.”

“What if it’s not really me he wants? Like…what if he just likes the sex and doesn’t realize it yet?” You shake your head.

Jisung lets out a long sigh. “He’s not a child, okay? Just because he hasn’t had sex before or dated anyone doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what that feels like, dude.”

Before you answer, the knock on your front door takes you off guard. You sit up and throw the blanket off your body. Jisung mutters something in the background, but you can’t focus on what he’s saying. When you open the door, you almost stop breathing. You put the phone back up to your ear. “Jisung, let me call you back.”

He doesn’t even have time to respond before you hang up and toss it over to the side. Through the dark, Chenle stares back at you. His fists clench and unclench as he stands there in silence, clearly unsure what to say.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“I can’t fucking do this,” he replies. “I need you, okay? Don’t try and lie to me and say you have no feelings for me, because I saw you today. When I acted that way about you and Jeno, you asked me if I had feelings for you. Is that ‘cause you have them, too?”

“Yes.”

“Can you just be honest with—huh?” His brows furrow and his eyes narrow.

“You want the truth, Chenle? Yes. Yes, I like you, but I’m not letting you jeopardize your schooling for any of this. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I’ll be better,” he says. “I was just…distracted. It felt like every moment with you was fleeting, and I had to get every second I could before you disappeared.” He steps inside your apartment and closes the door.

“Lele, that’s such a big risk.” You feel like you’re shrinking in on yourself. How do you tell yourself it’s okay to be selfish this time if he doesn’t have to give anything up to be with you?

“And I get that. I do. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. And I don’t want to let you go just because we’re still in school. We can have something real. Honestly, we’ve had that this whole time, and you trying to say we didn’t is doing us both a disservice.”

“What happened with that girl today?” you ask.

“You know what that was. A whole lot of fucking nothing.” He runs his fingers through his hair and wets his lips. “I didn’t even kiss her, by the way. I couldn’t. Seriously, I wanted to because I needed to know if these…feelings I have for you are real. Maybe that’s an awful way to do it, but I figured if I kissed someone else and it felt the same, then I’d be okay without you.”

You don’t say a word. His eyebrows furrow.

“I wanted to kiss her because I thought it’d give me the answer I desperately needed, not because I wanted her specifically. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first fucking day I met you. And I couldn’t kiss her because she wasn’t you. Nobody will ever be you, and—”

“I love you.”

“—I wish there was a way I could—huh?”

You step closer to him. “You’re right. I love you. From the moment you had stars in your eyes just from talking about them.”

His jaw drops, and relief floods his features, but he flounders for words.

“If you don’t say it back, I might die of embarrassment.”

“God, of course, I fucking love you.” He scoffs, reaching forward to cup your cheeks and pull you to him.

Your lips meet so abruptly, you gasp. Without any hesitation, you wrap your arms around him and weave your fingers through his hair. His chest presses against yours, and whatever battle you’d been trying to fight until this point has been lost.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He punctuates each word with another kiss, and he begins to walk you backwards. You cling on to him but allow him to guide you.

“You have to promise you won’t let school fall behind,” you say breathlessly, placing your palms on his chest once you make it to your door frame. “That you won’t lose yourself because of me.”

“I hadn’t known myself until I met you, (Y/N). I’m only me if I’m with you.” Chenle gives you a soft smile. “If you’re mine, I won’t be worried about fleeting moments.”

You nod slowly, pulling him back to you. “I need you.”

He groans against your mouth, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist and walking you back until you’re by the edge of your bed. Without breaking the kiss, he follows you down to the mattress, his weight pressing you into it. You spread your legs to accommodate him, sliding your hands beneath the hem of his shirt to pull it off. He assists you, and as soon as it’s thrown across the room, you reach for him desperately to minimize the amount of time without the two of you connected.

“Say you love me again,” he mutters. “Please.”

“I love you,” you repeat easily, letting out a shaky breath as he reaches beneath your shirt to squeeze your breasts. His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you moan quietly.

“Me, too, baby.” He pulls your shirt off and interrupts the kiss to drag his lips down your neck. “There’s one thing you still haven’t taught me.”

“What’s that?”

“Show me how to make love to you.” He moves down further and takes your nipple in his mouth.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, gasping at the sensation. “Come here, Lele.”

When he’s face to face with you again, the darkness in his eyes has wetness spreading between your legs. He edges closer to you, unable to resist the urge of kissing you again. When he’s barely centimeters away, you lift your hand and trace his bottom lip, entranced by everything he is.

“Some things can’t be taught,” you whisper. “Sometimes, they just have to be felt.”

A ghost of a smile forms beneath your touch, and he nods. While his urgency is still there, he slows down, giving his hands freedom to explore you. Your back arches as his palm slides along your side. He grinds against you, shuddering breaths escaping. You lift up to match him, and you moan when you feel his hard length against your thinly covered core. The lust in his gaze has changed to adoration, a gentle gleam reflecting the moonlight outside as he removes your shorts and panties. His palm sends warmth through your abdomen, and he slowly moves lower.

“Can I?” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Please.”

He kisses you as a distraction, and you whine when his fingertips press against your clit. Humming in his own form of pleasure, he rubs uniform circles.

“Relax,” he tells you. “You’re so tense, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You immediately melt. “More.”

He parts your lips with his tongue, and as soon as it enters your mouth, his fingers slip inside. You moan, eyes rolling back as you rock your hips. The noises pouring from you can’t be controlled. You break the kiss and gasp when he curls his fingers and hits your spot.

“Fuck, again.” You dig your nails into his shoulders.

He repeats the motion, the tip of his nose brushing along your cheek. In your ear, he says, “I love you. So fucking much.”

A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. You tilt your head back. “I’m close, fuck.”

He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and tugs, eliciting a cry from the back of your throat. Your walls clamp down wildly on his fingers, but he knows you more than you’d care to admit at this point. Right before you crumble before his eyes, he removes his fingers from you. Before you can protest, he silences you with a kiss.

“Condom?” he asks.

“Up to you,” you reply.

He pushes his pants off and to the floor, and you have a brief moment to admire the bulge straining in his boxers before those are thrown, too. Wrapping his hand around his cock, he inhales sharply as he jerks himself off a couple times.

“Ready, baby?” He climbs over you again, nudging your sensitive clit with his tip.

You nod, tugging him closer. “Hurry up.”

Chenle trails down to line up with your entrance, and he groans when he coats himself in your arousal. “You’re so wet.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he pushes inside of you at the same time. A loud moan escapes instead, making you slap your own hand over your mouth as your walls stretch to accommodate Chenle.

“God, do you know what you fucking do to me?” He drops his head on your shoulder as he bottoms out deep inside you.

Both of you are impatient today, apparently, because he wastes no time in moving his hips. He only leaves the tip in, just to push his hips forward. His moans join yours, the sound enough to make your walls flutter around him.

“So good.” You match his movements, lifting up every time he thrusts.

He speeds up, making sure to press flush against you every time he bottoms out. The sight of him alone is enough to have you trembling, but seeing him entranced by where your bodies are connected has you clenching around him.

He lets out a long moan, and you join him in looking between the two of you. His skin slaps yours, and sounds of your arousal fill the room. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he reaches between the two of you to find your clit. The first contact makes you jolt and whine.

You wrap your legs around his waist, smashing your lips to his. He smirks against your mouth, the steady pace of his thumb on your sensitive bud sending spasms down your spine. Your stomach ties in knots, and you squirm beneath him.

“Lele, ‘m gonna cum.” You barely get the words out through your pleasured haze, and he nods, burying his head in your neck and thrusting into you harder. Your legs shake as you tighten them around him, and your entire being ascends as your orgasm slams into you. You moan so loudly, he kisses you to keep you quiet.

“Feels so good.” His voice cracks as he fucks you through your high.

You kiss him hard, and use your legs to flip the two of you over so you’re on top. His jaw drops at the sight of you, hands immediately trailing up your body to your breasts. You give him a second to admire before you start your steady pace. You lean back and brace your palms on his thighs, slowly rolling your hips as you sink down on his cock. He uses the position to put his thumb on your clit again. You jolt, cursing again as you speed up. The sensitivity has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but the feeling of him snug inside you, rubbing against your walls, has you approaching a second orgasm.

You’re not expecting it, but you hope he lasts long enough to finish you off a second time. Your brain is clouded with pleasure, and one look at him tells you he’s teetering close to the edge. His jaw is clenched, face contorted in pleasure as he stares at you bouncing on top of him. You’re seconds away. Your orgasm builds deep inside you, and your hips falter. He thrusts up, moaning loudly. Legs quaking, your second orgasm hits you hard, back arching. Chenle sits up to catch you crumbling into his chest, rocking his hips. He wraps his arms around you and holds you to him tightly as one last thrust has him spilling deep inside you. Both of you are covered in sweat, panting in the aftermath of the pleasure.

“Fuck.” He pants, burying his head in your neck and kissing where it joins with your shoulder. “‘M never gonna get used to that.”

When you chuckle, he squirms and gasps.

“Did you know you like, clench when you laugh?” He squeezes your hips. “We’ve been doing this for months, and I’m still learning.”

“The human body is wonderful,” you tease him. “Maybe you’ll switch from physics to anatomy.”

“The only anatomy I’m curious about is yours.” He holds you close and turns you on your back. Placing one last kiss on your forehead, he pulls out of you slowly. A lazy smile graces his face as he sees the sticky mess between your legs.

“You weirdo.” You nudge him with your foot.

He grabs your ankle and yanks you down closer to him. Hovering over you, he narrows his eyes. “Me being a weirdo is solely your fault, you know.”

“I suppose you’ve earned it.” You pretend to think about it. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to lean down and press his lips to yours, the movement softer and slower than before. You don’t mean to let out a long sigh of pleasure, but his breath shudders against your mouth. “Don’t do that,” he whines. “I’ll get hard again.”

“Why don’t we go shower together?” You twirl his hair.

“Mm, you gonna let me wash your hair?” He presses soft kisses up your neck. “I’ll take any excuse to touch you, baby.”

“You’re getting good at this.” You laugh and rest your head back on the pillow. “You never would’ve talked like that before. It’s sexy.”

He hums and nips your skin. “That’s your magic.”

After a few more moments of him doting on you, the two of you get in the shower. The two of you stand under the water, relaxing in the hot steam and each other’s embrace. His hands trail over your body until he’s eventually cupping your breasts.

“Hear me out,” he mutters. “How about we both just drop out and stay exactly like this forever.”

“Sounds great in theory, Lele, but you made a promise.”

He groans. “I made a few promises tonight. Don’t worry, I meant all of them.”

His thumbs brush your nipples until they harden beneath his touch. He pins you to his chest with his arm, continuing his work on your breast as his other hand trails down your body. Apparently, you’ve turned him into something insatiable, but you definitely benefit from it. He stops with his hand on your hip.

“Need something, baby?”

The tone of his voice sends a chill down your spine, and mixed with hot water cascading over you, you moan. You clench your thighs together, desperate for friction.

He adjusts to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. “Feel good?”

“Touch me,” you whine, grabbing at his wrist to push him between your legs.

“If it were socially acceptable, I’d be touching you at all times.” His fingertips find your clit. “You’re so fucking warm, and those little sounds you make…”

“Faster,” you say as you arch your back.

“But you’re so sensitive,” he whispers. “I’m having fun like this.”

“Lele, please.” You drop your head back. “I need you.”

“Music to my fucking ears.” He sinks two fingers inside you, his palm smacking against your clit every time he thrusts them in.

Your arousal gushes over him, and he bites down on his bottom lip to keep any sounds at bay. He stops working your nipple, too focused on the way your walls clamp on his fingers. You whine at the loss, putting your hand over his to tell him to keep playing with you.

He pulls his fingers out, trailing the wetness along your thighs. Right when he pinches your nipple, he does the same to your clit. You jolt and cry out, rolling your hips to get more stimulation.

“I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” he groans. “You always look so fucking pretty when you want me like this.”

“I can take it,” you tell him as you squeeze your thighs together. “Anything you give me, I’ll take it.”

A deep moan escapes him, and the next thing you know, he’s pulling you back so he can bend you over.

“Hands on the wall,” he instructs.

Once you’re fully bent over, you push back against him, desperate for him to fill you. He strokes his cock, gaze stuck directly on your core. He reaches around your body, squeezing your breasts again.

He releases you and lines himself up with your entrance. Right when you think he’ll push inside, he rubs his tip on your clit. Without warning, he slides completely inside, his tip resting snug against your spot from this angle. You scream, already pushing your hips back.

Neither of you have time to breathe before he’s thrusting hard, nails digging into your skin as he pulls you back with every forward movement. Your hands slip down the wall, the squeak of the tile doing nothing but adding to the pleasure of him inside you. The water amplifies the clapping sounds of his body against yours, and your eyes roll back from all of the overwhelming feelings.

“Lele,” you whine. “S-spread my legs a little more.”

He does as you ask, still thrusting at a slower pace.

“Now keep going how you were.” You push back until he’s buried deep inside you.

He seems to understand your motive without you explaining it, and you thank everything you can think of that he’s so fucking smart. When he resumes his unrelenting pace, it’s joined with his balls smacking into your clit. Every thrust has your walls fluttering around him, and each hit on your sensitive bud brings you closer to your much needed orgasm.

“Just like that.” You can barely speak at this point, fucking yourself back on his cock to match his pace.

A knot ties in your stomach, and you’re left delirious as you chase the unraveling of it. You let out your loudest moan yet, letting all of the sensations around you drive you over the edge. Chenle curses behind you as your walls clamp down on him, but he keeps moving. It doesn’t take long for your pleasure to turn into overstimulation from him rubbing against your walls.

As soon as an unfamiliar cry leaves you, he stops immediately.

“Are you okay?” he asks, panting.

“I–I can’t keep—fuck, I’m sorry.” You clench your fists together.

“No, baby, it’s okay.” He carefully pulls out of you and guides you back to your feet. “Don’t be sorry. You’d never be mad at me for something like that.”

“But you—”

“The fact you even let me in at all still baffles me.” He chuckles, pulling you in for a short kiss. His cheeks are bright red, and while he’s brushing your hair out of your face, an idea comes to mind.

“Let me fix it.” You kiss his cheek.

Before he has the opportunity to ask what you’re talking about, you’re guiding him until his back is against the wall. The chill of the tile makes his cock twitch, and you wish you could take him again. Instead, you lower yourself down onto your knees.

“You’re—the tile’s gonna hurt your—”

“Do you want to cum in my mouth or on my face?”

He gulps. “You don’t have to—”

“Answer the question.” You glare up at him, and he curses.

“Your face. If that’s okay.”

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”

“It kinda—it sounds so hot but I don’t want you to think it’s demeaning or anyth—oh, fuck.” His head drops against the wall when you take him in your mouth. You sink further and further until he’s snug down your throat, your nose pressed to his pelvis.

You hollow your cheeks as you pull away from him. He slides out with a pop, and when you look up at him, his jaw is dropped.

“First of all, if I was worried about you looking down on me, we would not be having sex at all. Second, don’t be shy. Grab my hair. Fuck my throat, I don’t care.”

His eyes widen, and like you’ve awoken something inside him, he grabs the back of your head and pushes you forward. You grin smugly before wrapping your lips around his tip. Running your tongue along to gather his precum, you grab onto his thighs to keep you steady.

“C’mon, baby, take it.” He inhales sharply as he pushes his cock into your mouth. You let him take full control, humming around him.

The vibrations make his hips jerk, and his tip slams into the back of your throat. You whimper, tears welling in your eyes.

“‘M sorry,” he groans, thrusting at a steady pace. “Just feels so fucking good. Smack me if you need to stop.”

You give him the best nod you can and brace yourself against him. It doesn’t take long for his orgasm to approach after he has your confirmation. He holds your head firmly, letting out a high pitched moan as you gag and your throat constricts around him.

He mutters something incoherent, and you pull away from him and stroke him with your hand instead. As soon as his hips buck, you open your mouth. Strings of white shoot from his tip, and you close your eyes as it coats your face. You swallow what lands on your tongue, panting as you look up at him.

“Oh,” he murmurs, the tips of his fingers lifting your chin up.

His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and before he can rinse away his release, you lean forward and wrap your lips around him.

“My fucking God, you’re dangerous.” He kisses you, guiding you back beneath the water to rinse you off. You sigh into his kiss, finally letting the warmth relax you completely.

“We should get out soon,” you tell him.

“I don’t ever want to be away from you.” He shakes his head. “Let me at least wash your hair like I said I would.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re the one who got sidetracked, by the way.”

“And you love me for it. You said it yourself.” He beams at you, grabbing your shampoo from the shelf.

“That is the truth.” You wrap your arms around him and allow him to work his fingers through your hair.

After your hair is washed, the two of you get out of the shower. Both of you are beyond exhausted, so you end up right back in bed together, you curled into him like he’s a body pillow. He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“Think Jisung’ll kill us?” he asks, sleep weighing down his voice.

“Who cares?” You listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat. “We’re happy.”

Chenle pulls you impossibly closer and presses his lips to the top of your head. If anyone told you when you first met him that this is how it was going to work out with Chenle, you would’ve laughed in their faces.

But life works in mysterious ways, and not only are you happier with Chenle in your life, but you’re a bit smarter, too.

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miley1442111 · 3 days

Text

all alone-s.reid

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summary: spencer doesn't want to get hurt, too bad it hurts you in the process

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

warnings: spencer's a dick in this, reader puts him in his place :)

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You were the new office genius. You’d just joined straight out of the academy, but with your genius, and your experience, you’d been brought straight to the BAU.

What experience, you may ask?

Your psychiatry and psychology degrees, oh, and the eidetic memory, IQ of 190, and Hyperthymesia you had.

And the experience you’d had with a certain serial killer. Your father, Jason O’Neill, had been caught a few months ago, and after that you’d been given a full-time position. You got on well with the team, though one clearly didn’t like you. Dr. Spencer Reid. Apparently he was your equal in intelligence, though you never knew, he refused to speak to you. You probably had a more bubbly personality than the BAU regularly hired, but that had been disproven upon meeting Penelope, the Technical Analyst.

He just didn’t like you. Oh well. It wasn’t going to ruin your life. You didn’t really give a shit.

He gave a shit. He cared far too much.

“Spencer, I’ve got your coffee, extra sugar,” you smiled as you handed out the drinks you’d brought the team from the cafe down the road from the small police station. You handed it to him, not waiting for an answer, he never gave one.

Emily kicked him under the table. “What’s with you two?”

Spencer rolled his eyes and went back to his book. “Nothing.”

“She’s the nicest person on this team Spencer, yet you treat her like she’s just there for decoration.”

“She’s only good for two things, getting coffee, and keeping quiet,” he snapped, not realising you were behind him. You frowned, then hit him over the head with your bag as you were walking past, not sparing him a glance.

Honestly, Spencer was practically in love with you since the second he’d met you. You were perfect, gorgeous smile, always something kind to say, always an interesting fact on your beautiful lips. He thought he could listen to you talk forever. Your voice made his day. Your eyes on his made him feel things he never thought he’d be lucky enough to feel.

But he’d never let his guard down again. Not after Maeve. Never again.

He’d rather be alone, though everyday you became more tempting.

Everyday he wished he could be with you.

Everyday, just like today.

-------------------------

“Doctor,” Your voice rang through the precinct. “Aaron wants you.”

In recent weeks you’d adopted calling him ‘Doctor’, rather than Spencer. His name from your lips often went straight to his heart, he was a romantic, after all. Now ‘Doctor’ sounded clinical and impersonal. It was maddening.

He didn’t answer, he just stared at his book, making his stand.

“Doctor Reid, Aaron wants you,” You stated, standing beside him. “Reid-”

“Say my name,” he deadpanned, staring at his book, but not reading the words.

“I just did,” you scoffed. “We aren’t school children, go to Aaron.’

You called everyone else by their first name, why not him? He knew the answer of course, but it still didn’t take away from his curiosity. Why had it affected you so much?

“Can you stop being a huge asshole for one day and just treat me like I’m a person and not just something here for you to fuck with? I deserve a spot on this team just like you do,” you boomed, smacking his book out of his hands.

“I don’t think you do,” he said, standing up to his full height.

“Well I guess it’s your lucky day because I’m leaving in a week,” you snarled back, then walked off to go back to the rest of the team.

What? You were leaving?

Spencer caught up to you in 4 quick steps and he pulled you to the side of the corridor, shading you both from prying eyes in a broom closet. “You’re leaving?”

His eyes were frantic and… scared? You’d never seen him look at you with anything other than indifference, so this was quite the change.

“Yes.”

“Why?” He pleaded.

“Why? You are seriously asking why I’m leaving?” you sarcastically sighed. “Gosh, I guess it was that the coffee’s shit, or maybe it was the fact that I work in a hostile working environment!”

“That’s corporate bullshit-”

“No. It’s your bullshit. I have been nothing but kind to you in my few months here and every day it’s the same blank stare and shitty comments. Go fuck yourself Doctor Reid.”

You tried to pry out of the grip he had on your shoulders, but you couldn’t. He stood there, shocked and shameful at his actions.

“I-I’m sorry,” he sighed, letting go of you to run his hands through his hair. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“I’m in love with you,” he admitted.

“Pardon?” You squeaked, jaw-dropped.

“I’m in love with you… a-and I didn’t think it was a good idea because the last time I was involved with someone like that-”

“Spencer, I don’t care. I’m leaving the BAU. For good.”

Spencer’s stomach sank. He was too late. You waited for a minute as he just stared at you. He was trying to process it, realise his mistakes,and find a way to make you stay in a 15 second window.

“Bye Spencer,” you sighed and left him in that broom closet.

All alone.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #bau team #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 day

Note

I’ve been rereading you Royal Consort au and haven’t stopped thinking about it. I just know social media during that entire au was fucking insane

Dash Baxter opened his phone one school morning in his senior year after oversleeping for an hour—he may have worked out a little too hard, or he really did have a cold, like his mother claims—and was overwhelmed with messages from his friends.

They all say the same thing.

Have you seen this!?

Is it true?!

I can't believe this is happening!

Will we go to jail? I can't go to jail!

He scrolls through them with heavy confusion until, eventually, he clicks on the link Kwan sent him since the mention of jail seemed like a higher level of importance than whatever new gossip was going about.

Someone was likely pregnant. That was always what Pauline gossip the most about.

His best friend tended to catastrophize, so he figured it was better to help him calm down first.

The link takes him to a news clip showing a crowd of people surrounding a very familiar house. It wasn't the first time the Fentons had been on the news, but they were usually covered by local stations, and it was generally due to the damage the inventors had caused.

Dash knew they were only talked about when things were slow and a fluff story needed to be thrown in. Oh, back in freshman year, when ghosts first appeared, the Fentons were much more important, but now ghosts are a part of everyday life, and sometimes Dash forgot other cities didn't have the same issue.

Nothing the Fentons did was noteworthy, especially to have the Lois Lane covering their story. Yet, here in the palm of his hands, on the morning of a regular school day, he watched as Lois Lane did just that.

"Reporting live from Amity Park outside the residence of the Royal Consort to the Infinite Realms, I'm Lois Lane. Only a few minutes ago, the Justice League members- Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman- had entered the building hoping to speak to the Consort on a diplomatic mission. The tension between humans and the Realms has been at an all-time high since the Anti-Ecto Acts were passed. Although they were overturned in the last United Nations session, there has still been no comment from King Phantom and no guarantee that a war is not on the horizon." The woman says, holding her mic close to her face while the cameraman pans over the crowd of people outside of Fenton Works.

Dash feels like someone dumped iced water on him and then slapped him with a rubber fish. He is scared, confused, and a little offended. Still, the video continues as Ms. Lane explains the Realms, the political backlash the USA put the rest of the world in, and a brief overview of the humans' chances of winning if a war did break out (not high).

She then admits that their team had gotten a tip, claiming that the Consort has been married to King Phantom for the last three years, and despite not publicly announcing his title, he had all the power of his status.

He.

There were only two "he"s in the Fenton household and Dash knew for a fact Mr. Fenton would never cheat on his wife. Which left only one.

Oh gods.

As Ms.Lane speaks, the door to the house opens behind her, and the three high heroes of Earth outstep.

Along with Danny Fenton, who is squished between Wonder Woman and Superman with a flabbergasted expression, the crowd goes wild as Ms. Lane loudly shouts, "The Royal Consort, Daniel Fenton, husband to King Phantom, is being escorted by some of the most important members of the Justice League to a secondary location for peace negotiations. There is hope for humanity yet."

The clip ends with a close-up of Fenton's wide-eyed stare, which shows him looking terrified—the same expression he used whenever Dash cornered him to vent some of his frustrations.

Dash is left sitting in utter silence and rapidly growing horror. He had been mocking a royal, physically harming a royal, and, worst of all, he had been attacking Danny Phantom's husband, the same being who had been his personal hero for the last three years.

"I'm going to jail." He whispers "I'm so going to jail. Or I'm going to be executed. That happens to people who almost start wars right? Oh, gods."

The rest of the A-listers are panicking all over the city but not nearly as Dash Baxter, who was wondering how much time Fenton would give him for a head start.

It didn't help that Wes messaged Everyone on the basketball team with a gif of a dancing cat wearing sunglasses and the words "I TOLD YOU" in bright, bold colors.

He had repeatedly told them to leave Fenton alone. If they didn't, Phantom would retaliate, but no one had taken his word for it since the boy had originally claimed Phantom and Fenton were the same person.

Dash put his phone down and stared at the wall of his room. He liked that wall. It was covered in posters, pictures of his friends, memories of his best games, and now, with the floating shelves, his teddy bear collections.

He would likely never see it again.

"Oh gods"

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #The royal consort #Part 1.5 #This takes place between part 1 and part 2 #Dash is having a crisis #He overslept and missed the news break #Wes is just doing the dancing cat meme because HE WAS RIGHT #Dash pov of the situation

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mlmarint · 15 hours

Text

so here’s my thoughts about the “daddy issues” thing with the whole anti tommy shit

you guys are such fucking hypocrites

i would be totally on board with someone bringing that it’s not okay to sexualize someone’s trauma if that was the case. but guess whaaaaaaat???? THATS NOT THE CASE. and it’s not “terrible dialogue” either, there’s so many scenes with terrible dialogue in this show, but some of you should really stop and ask yourselfs WHY you didn’t like this one.

if eddie was the one to make a comment like that some of you’d be OVER THE MOON. i’ve NEVER seen ANYONE in this fandom talk about how a LOT of the buddie explicit fanfics have a daddy kink on it. and before any more comments, i REALLY HATE buddie fics with daddy kink because it always reminds me of christopher and do NOT want to think about christopher in that moment.

“that’s not the problem. the problem is that once again buck it’s with someone who doesn’t care about his trauma” oh grow the fuck up.

tommy LITERALLY decided to not date buck because he thought buck wasn’t ready for it, he gave buck his space, he at first didn’t want to go to maddie and chimney wedding with buck because he thought buck was acting on impulse and wanted him to take his time to be okay with who he is, and after he was sure he tried his best to be on time to his date.

and also!!!! buck is a little “freak” in bed guys, he was a literal sex addict in season 1. every now and then the show reminds us this (like the ring cutter scene), also this is the second buck’s relationship with someone who’s like older than him. i wouldn’t be surprised if buck has a canon daddy kink because GUESS WHAAAAAT some people who have daddy issues??? THEY HAVE DADDY KINKS!!!!!

but you guys wanna know what i truly think?

i think that some of you (these tommy antis) are only here for buddie. you’re not here for the show, you’re here for buck and eddie. you’re not here for all these amazing characters!!! you’re not here for the fact that buck being a bisexual man discovering that side of him in his 30s its one of the most important things that happened in this show when we’re talking about lgbt+ characters and the importance of having something like that to be on media.

you’re not here for bi buck, you’re only here if this means that eddie will be with him. you’ll won’t be here if they decide to give a eddie queer discover story non related to buck on season 8 (and i truly think we’re going that way).

you only liked buck and tommy when you could sexualize two man kissing.

if you want to talk about something that is not okay that tommy did why don’t you rewatch the older episodes he’s in? he wasn’t a nice person back then and honestly i would like for them to bring that up!!! for them to show how a person can change and grow out of their prejudice and realize that they don’t need to be an ass and be okay with who they truly are. in fact why don’t we talk about how they hinted the fact that tommy didn’t like who he was when he was working with gerard? that he doesn’t like gerard and that he was a toxic person and that tommy grow up with a racist, homophobic and sexist dad???? that’s why he wasn’t a nice person back than but he’s different now and he’s a proud gay man and that once again that’s a nice thing to have on media because it shows how it’s NEVER too late to come in terms with who you are and change the way your are for better????

tommy isn’t perfect (and no one that he hurt before seems to actually care about it cause he did truly changed), but that doesn’t mean you need to cancel the guy FOR ONE SINGLE comment!!!! part of the 911 team made fun of buck for being sexually assaulted by his therapist but no one canceled them for it, did they?

honestly i am so fucking tired with fandoms in general.

at this point i hope we don’t get buddie being canon FOR A LONG TIME cause i want you guys to suffer with tommy and buck being in a happy relationship.

just remember: eddies it’s not canonical queer yet, there’s hints of it and they probably are going on that road with the whole thing they’re saying on interviews, BUT buck IS BISEXUAL and HE IS dating TOMMY you like it or not and it’s by far the most healthy relationship he EVER had in this show, can’t you be happy for him????

you can be a buddie shipper and still enjoy bucktommy because what we should truly want more than anything it’s buck and eddie to be happy with who they are.

and I SAY ALL THIS BEING A BUDDIE SHIPPER FOR YEARS

#tommy kinard they could never make me hate you #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 show #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buddie #bucktommy

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littlerosetrove · 18 hours

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Full acknowledgement that this is a first initial reaction, and I am in my Feelings about it. I may change my mind on some of this later, as I’m allowed, but as it stands right now? …..Do these writers even like Eddie? A bit of hyperbole, but hear me out.

What. Was the POINT. of Eddie cheating with a doppelgänger of his dead wife when, I’m sorry, but it amounted to nothing. Not for Eddie at least. I THOUGHT the point of this soap opera stuff was that Eddie was going to start learning and healing from his trauma surrounding Shannon, but after this episode? That’s not what we got, not that I could tell. Honestly, I feel like Eddie is in the same place with his issues with Shannon if not potentially worse. Like jfc will these writers not allow Eddie, after five years, to move on from Shannon in any way?

This is TV land, not reality. Things will not play out as they do in the real world. As a viewer this is super frustrating to see this issue be dragged out for five seasons, and what will now be beyond that. I’m sorry, but I’m So Tired of Shannon and Eddie being perpetually on this hamster wheel with her. Unless I’m sorely mistaken, but Eddie has learned nothing and dealt with nothing when it comes to Shannon, and now this show is going to drag it out into a SIXTH season of this particular issue.

The ONLY thing we got from the doppelgänger stuff was a traumatized Chris who, frankly, while he’s allowed to be upset, didn’t talk about WHY he’s even upset, not really. He at the very least said to Buck that he thought his mom was back, but she wasn’t. That’s something, but even that was not relayed to Eddie from Buck.

So Chris is mad and called his grandparents and is going to stay with them indefinitely??? The writers had No One really communicating when it came to Chris, Eddie, his parents, or even Buck. There was some acknowledgment that Chris needs space, but idk…. Right now this feels like drama for drama's sake. I could have understood Chris wanting space for the summer, but there being no timeline to this??? That’s just unnecessarily cruel to Eddie.

Bringing Eddie’s parents into this. I’ve seen people say “but Eddie has worked on rebuilding things with his parents, and now it’s all regressing.” That’s only partly true. Eddie has never started to work on his issues with his mom. He only worked on rebuilding something with his dad in season 5. There has been zero work to reconcile with his mom. So Helena was in character for being perfectly fine (happy) to take Chris. She may have not meant it cruelly, but her saying “if Chris forgets anything we’ll buy it for him or replace it” was mean. To me anyway.

The two good things for Eddie this season have been his new friendship with Tommy, and a consistent and strong relationship/friendship with Buck. Other that that this season has just: → made Eddie feel like he’s perpetually failing as a father → Eddie has been given no real closure or growth when it comes to Shannon, not that I could tell → continual mother issues, because Helena was happy to take Chris away from Eddie for an undisclosed amount of time

To break it all down even further, this season gave Eddie a relationship with a woman that, let’s be so for real, was pointless. Marisol was never a character. Eddie may at the very beginning gone into this relationship looking for the “magic” he had with Shannon, but that fizzled real fucking quick. There was nothing to this relationship. More than once Eddie “joked” about breaking up with Marisol, and he clearly showed disinterest in her early on. Then she was kept around to In The Background be cheated on. To tie it up the nothing burger of a relationship, there was a less than 10 second mention of an off screen breakup. Marisol had no weight in all this. Was the point of Marisol to show Chris, again, that “people don’t stick around”? Chris’s commitment issues come from his mom. Perhaps Ana leaving didn’t help matters (although we never got any insight into what Chris felt about that), but so what. We needed a third woman to leave to just compound Chris’s abandonment/commitment issues?? Nah. Just like Buck’s abandonment issues always come back to his parents, so do Chris’s (his mom). That’s the root of the issue, which means that Chris needs to go to therapy about it and Talk to his dad (although Eddie needs a ton of his own therapy first, since Eddie has Still not dealt with his Shannon issues).

We got Chris in 7x1 maybe starting to work through his issues with his mom. Then we jump to the last episode where now Chris is angry and traumatized at seeing a clone of his mom…. For what purpose? Really. Eddie doesn’t seem to have gotten anything remotely positive out of the doppelgänger stuff, and clearly neither has Chris. So… So what was the point? To just create a rift between Eddie and Chris? To make Chris not trust his dad? Idk, pick a different method, ‘cause this was not it for me.

When it comes to Eddie the only thing that the mess of the doppelgänger stuff has, apparently, taught Eddie is that when he does anything for himself, it will hurt Chris. Eddie, as far as I can tell, didn’t really get any kind of closure when it comes to Shannon, not based on this episode (7x10). No, instead we just have the recurring theme of Eddie feeling like he’s a failure of a father, and that all he does is hurt Chris. That’s what we’ve been given is Eddie feeling really fucking low, feeling like all his worst fears about himself are true, and now his son is gone for an indefinite amount of time.

Eddie is left miserable, and for what? Well it damn well better be to build him back up in season 8. I know this is a drama, but come on. Season 8 better give Eddie the time and respect he deserves. He has so many unresolved issues to work on and work through. - His issues with Shannon because apparently this show is still not fucking done with it. At this point I may accept season 8 starting with Eddie saying he went to therapy (off screen) and has worked through his Shannon issues just so that can be finally put to rest. - Eddie’s massive self worth issues especially when it comes to him being a father. His constant thought - compounded by his mom who has only ever seen Eddie as a failure - that he’s failing as a dad. - Eddie and his mom issues. Will those ever be addressed? - Eddie and Chris will need to rebuild a bridge together and heal. - Eddie is having an identity crisis because he does not even know what he wants (brought up in 7x9). He’s never been given the time or space to think about who he, just Eddie, even is. - Here’s to hoping this show sticks with the hints they’ve given, and that is Eddie going on his own queer journey. It clearly won’t be as smooth sailing as Buck because nothing is ever easy for Eddie.

EDIT: Some will miss this because it's been reblogged, but in short? Um. Eddie had no growth this season... Superb.

#911 spoilers #911 discourse #9-1-1 #Eddie Diaz #I hope this all made sense #my thoughts #long post

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marvelmusing · 1 day

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Thirst Tweets

part of the Q&A Universe

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (Actors AU)

Summary: With Aleksander and Alina by your side, you suffer through the mortifying ordeal of reading thirst tweets to promote your new film.

Warnings [18+]: discussions of sex, thirst tweets, mentions of filming intimate scenes, hair pulling

Part One • My Masterlist

“So, in front of each of you is a pot filled with tweets about one of your costars,” the producer explains as the people behind the camera make their final preparations before starting filming.

“Who’ve I got…?” you muse, spinning the pot so that you can see the label on the front of it. “Oh, Aleksander.” Frowning, you lean to look at the other two pots on either side of you. “Who has me?”

Alina turns her pot and the two of you lean closer to read the label.

“I do.”

“Then Sasha has Alina’s,” you conclude as Alina settles back in her chair.

He tilts his pot slightly, eyes narrowing as he checks his own label. Then he nods.

“Yes,” he confirms.

“Okay,” the producer says with a smile. “Once we start filming, there’ll be just a quick introduction and then we’ll jump right into it.”

“Quick question,” you say, which has both Aleksander and Alina turning to look at you. “Are these tweets the dirty kind or the weird kind?”

The producer blinks at you, tilting her head aside in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, I’ve seen these sort of videos before, and sometimes they’re more funny than filthy, and I was just wondering what kind of video ours is going to be.”

“I think we should just find out,” Alina remarks with a grin, already peering down into her pot filled with tweets about you.

“I’d prefer to be prepared,” you reason.

“As would I,” Aleksander agrees. Alina huffs, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Why don’t I go first and test the waters for you?”

You nod.

“Alright.”

The producer retreats behind the camera, giving you a small countdown before filming begins. Clearing your throat, you straighten in your seat, smoothing down your clothes to ensure you’re presentable. Aleksander nudges his elbow against yours, bringing your eyes to his, and he gives you a soft reassuring smile.

Then filming begins.

“I’m Alina Starkova.”

She tilts her head at you, prompting you to introduce yourself as well. Once you do, you turn to Aleksander.

“I’m Aleksander Morozov, and today we are reading thirst tweets.”

Alina wastes no time, rummaging through the pieces of card in the pot in front of her. Knowing she’s about to read something about you out loud has you tapping your foot nervously. Aleksander loops his pinkie around yours, giving it a gentle squeeze which makes you smile at him.

“It’s this photo of you,” Alina announces, once she’s made her selection.

She turns the piece of card around so that you and Aleksander can see. The image is a screen-cap from the film, where your character is sitting on a window seat wearing her nightdress, the early morning sun glowing behind her. When Alina turns the card back around, her brows scrunch together as she reads the rest of the tweet.

“Just me on my knees for this goddess.”

“That’s not too bad,” you reason, looking at Aleksander for his opinion. He nods, leaning further onto his elbow on the arm of his chair - the one closest to you.

“Quite the compliment really,” he adds in agreement. Alina laughs.

“Let me finish reading.” She reaches over to swat at your knee - bare due to the skirt you’re wearing - which makes you pout, feigning offence at her show of violence to ignore how your skin tingles at her touch. “Just me on my knees for this goddess. Let me get between those thighs, I want to drink her like a sweet summer wine.”

“Um, okay.”

She laughs again, raising a brow at your reaction.

“Okay?”

“Well what am I supposed to say?” You direct your gaze towards the camera. “Thank you.” Quickly, you turn to your left. “Aleksander, your turn now.”

He sighs. Reaching into his pot, he pulls out the first card he can get hold of. There’s a moment of anticipation, as his eyes scour over the words printed there. Then he says in the calmest, most neutral tone you’ve heard from him,

“I would do the most depraved things imaginable to have Alina Starkova’s tits in my mouth.”

A startled laugh gets caught in your throat as you clasp your hands over your face, your cheeks heating at the sound of Aleksander saying such things so casually. Alina laughs uncontrollably, her face flushed giddily as she slides down in her chair.

“I hope that goes in the video,” she says through her laughter. “Because I will immediately be setting that as my ringtone.”

“You along with half the people watching this,” you remark quietly.

Aleksander lowers the card, shooting a scandalised look at you both.

“You know you love us,” Alina teases, wiggling her fingers at him. Aleksander shakes his head with a soft laugh, attempting to hide his smile with faux disapproval.

“Brats, both of you.” He nudges your knee with his. “Your turn now.”

A pout puckers at your lips, and your features crinkling petulantly at the humiliating thought of reading out something horrifically dirty regarding Aleksander. Sensing your reluctance, Alina holds out her hand for you to take.

“I’ll hold your hand, baby.”

Her rings are cool against your skin as she curls her fingers around yours, and she presses her lips chastely to your knuckles, making an affectionate kiss sound as she does so. With your other hand, you reach for a card from the pot.

“It’s just this photo of you…” Turning the card around, you show them a candid image of Aleksander on set. “…and then it says-”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head.

“Go on,” Alina encourages you.

“I know his dick is big.”

Alina takes the card from you, examining the photo with an extreme level of focus which makes your cheeks burn even hotter. When you risk a glance at Aleksander, you find the tips of his ears are flushed pink despite the neutral expression he is maintaining on his face. His eyes meet yours and you look away quickly.

The weight of Aleksander’s hand on the back of your chair is the only thing you can focus on, alongside the blood rushing in your ears, as Alina picks up another card from the pot in front of her.

For the next half an hour, the three of you read out tweets until you’ve experienced enough embarrassment to keep you flustered for the rest of the afternoon. As you reach the end of filming, there are three cards left. The producer had explained earlier that all three of you would be the subject of these final tweets.

After some encouragement from the two of them, you go first.

“This just says that we’re the definition of bi panic.” That makes Alina laugh, reaching for her own card.

“I want all three of them to rearrange my insides.” Alina looks up at the camera with a coy smile. “Name a time and a place, sweetheart.”

She winks and Aleksander laughs softly, which makes your stomach flip. He picks up his own card, the final one for the video. He turns it over slowly, crossing his ankle over his knee as he reads.

His eyes remain fixed on the words there, reading them several times with flushed cheeks and parted lips, as he attempts to find his voice. He glances at you momentarily and the look on his face makes you squirm in your seat. When he catches Alina’s eye, she grins.

“This tweet is from Alina.”

That makes your jaw drop, your stomach plummeting simultaneously.

“What?”

“Go on Sasha,” she teases in a sing-song voice.

“I-” He falters, before he groans quietly through gritted teeth. “Alya,” he sighs. “This afternoon, I spent three hours in bed, between the two hottest people I’ve ever met. I get paid to lick her pretty thighs while he kisses her senseless. I have the best job in the world, argue with the wall.”

Alina laughs, clapping her hands together in gleeful applause while you and Aleksander you look at one another rather bashfully. Memories of filming with them both play over in your mind. The summer had been hot. The three of you had practiced one of the main intimacy scenes in the comfort of Aleksander’s trailer, with the chill of his air conditioning pebbling your nipples.

But there had been no such luxury during filming, when you were in costume - lace hemmed bloomers and a half undone corset. Sweat rolling down Alina’s calf, along Aleksander’s collarbone, glossing over your chest. The remembered heat of her mouth and his hands makes you ache even now.

Once filming is finished, the camera crew and producers exchange pleasantries with the three of you, before clearing out of the room and leaving you in peace.

Alina retrieves her bag from the side of the room, which had been placed out of sight of the cameras, setting it down on her chair. She pops her compact mirror open, checking over her makeup and you watch as she reapplies her lip gloss.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Aleksander concedes with a sigh. He rubs the back of his neck, tilting his head from side to side.

“I found it quite enjoyable,” Alina remarks teasingly, flashing you a smile that makes your stomach flip.

“Of course you did,” you argue, stretching your legs out as you cross your arms. “This was all your idea.”

“I think you enjoyed it too.” She smiles, leaning over to tap the end of your nose which makes you duck your head bashfully.

“No comment.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The next morning, you’re tackling a few interviews on your own. It feels strange without Aleksander or Alina by your side.

“This is your first film with any sort of intimate scenes,” the interviewer states.

“It is, yeah.”

“And I’d say some of the scenes are rather… intense. How was that?”

Her question makes you smile, thinking about how much work you and Aleksander put into your scenes. The memory of his hand in your hair, pulling your head back to reveal your throat for him makes you shift in your seat.

“Well, I was extremely lucky to have such incredible costars. Aleksander in particular was meticulous when it came to preparations. We would run through our lines together, and then walk through the scene, trying out different positions and reactions to see what worked best for us both. He knows the safest methods to pull hair which...” Heat spreads across your cheeks despite the smirk tugging at your lips. “…certainly came in handy for a few scenes.”

The interviewer smiles widely.

“I can imagine.”

Ducking your head slightly, you glance down at your painted fingernails as you smooth your hands over your trousers. It still makes you flustered, talking about the scenes you filmed with Aleksander and Alina.

“The film is based on a book,” she says.

You nod.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve recently been involved in recording a new version of the audiobook.”

That makes you smile.

“I have. I narrate the story and voice my character. Aleksander and Alina also voiced their own characters from the film, and I think Aleksander did a few background characters as well.”

“What was it like working with them again?”

“The whole experience was completely different from anything I’ve ever done before,” you admit. “The three of us were recording in the same room, so there was a really natural overlap between our voices in our scenes - which I love.”

Being in the recording booth with Aleksander and Alina was so much fun. At times, the sexual tension between your characters had made you squirm.

“I love full cast audiobooks, I think they’re so immersive and fun. We included some of the soundtrack from the film as well which adds a whole other layer to it. I feel like we’ve made something really special together.”

“Have you listened to it yet?”

The thought of listening to the audiobook, now fully edited with your voice describing the intimate scenes between your characters, while Aleksander and Alina moan and whisper sweet nothings and dirty promises through your headphones, makes you bite down on your lip to suppress a nervous laugh.

“Not yet, no. And I wouldn’t recommend listening to it in public. Especially chapter nineteen.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says with a small laugh. “Are you looking forward to the premiere? It’s your first one in a starring role.”

“It is, yeah. I’m excited - most definitely nervous as well - but at least I won’t be walking the red carpet alone.”

She raises a brow at you.

“Oh? Are you bringing a date?”

Heat rushes down through your body at the misunderstanding.

“Oh no, I meant Aleksander and Alina will be there too.”

She smiles.

“Will the premiere be the first time you see the film?”

“It will. I’ve seen a couple of clips and the trailer, but apart from that I’m going in blind.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21 Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @acehyacinth BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla @the-desilittle-bird @kksbookstuff

#darklina x reader #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #darklina au #modern au #actors au #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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vidavalor · 2 days

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I don’t see the alleged handholding on the bus. I don’t. I’m sorry. I’ve watched it so many times. I want to see it. I see Aziraphale’s hand going towards Crowley, but I don’t see any motion from Crowley that suggests he’s holding Aziraphale’s hand.

Are we really, really, REALLY sure they’re holding hands?

Hi there. 💕 Yep. Well, I am, anyway, and I'm happy to share why. I have watermelon salad to share tonight. Ahhh, summer... 🍉

I don't want to assume anything but I've seen the "Crowley doesn't react so they aren't holding hands" comment places before and what I think keeps people from seeing it is the idea that they think that Crowley should have some kind of big reaction because they think this is new. It's not. We aren't watching the very first time that they ever hold hands; we're watching a long-time couple familiar with doing so.

If this were the very first time Aziraphale had ever taken Crowley's hand then I could see why you're saying there should be some kind of reaction. We'd expect him to glance over or for his arm to be seen moving a bit from what of it we could see. On the other hand, if you look at the scene with a different perspective-- one assuming that they're already in a place where holding hands is not unfamiliar territory-- then the whole moment is really set up to reinforce that through showing how comfortable Crowley is with what's happening.

Crowley doesn't have to turn to Aziraphale right away in surprise and we don't need to see his head or arm move because all that's really likely happening is that Crowley is letting Aziraphale hold his hand right where it is resting on his thigh. Maybe he's turned his hand a little to thread their fingers together. Maybe he's just rubbing a thumb over Aziraphale's. We wouldn't see that from our angle because it would just be movement from his wrist down... and that seems to me to be the point of how the scene was shot. The outside view of the bus at this moment exactly? An angle designed to intimate to us that hands are being held and that it is not a rare or new event.

Think about it this way: if they never had held hands before, is Aziraphale just going to take his hand on this bus out of nowhere? Probably not. Is Crowley just going to sit there if Aziraphale did? Probably not. We get two or so seconds after Aziraphale takes his hand before the bus finishes moving out of the frame wherein we could have been shown Crowley having a more surprised reaction if that was what the scene was trying to say but we didn't see one because it seems like that is not what is being said with the scene.

Aziraphale's movements are familiar; he already knows he's permitted to take Crowley's hand whenever he likes and that they both find it comforting. Not only have they just been through all sorts of exhausting craziness over the last few days but Aziraphale was discorporated. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get his body back or how and this is basically the first moment they are alone enough to touch since Adam gave Aziraphale back his body. The hand holding then is a way of showing that Aziraphale needs to both feel grounded in his own body and to touch Crowley (not totally separate things, really...). That speaks to long-time coupledom to me more than it does to something new. If you look at the scene from the perspective that they're already together (just as if you look at most of the series from that perspective), you'll see a lot of subtle things just like this scene that reinforce the idea.

I wrote some stuff awhile back that you can find here about the connections between this scene and the flashback one on the bus earlier in S1 that also might help show how that they're sitting together and holding hands in this scene is set up by the earlier scene, should you be interested in that. Also: the "magic hands" massage joke would also suggest that holding hands in S1's present wouldn't be considered unusual. I think that if they've been making love since ancient Rome, as I wrote about the show suggesting here, liking to hold hands isn't too surprising but I understand from where your doubts are coming. Hope this helps. 💕

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens meta #good omens theory #crowley x aziraphale

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lavenderspence · 9 hours

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To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fam!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other.

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started.

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds.

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost.

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain.

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go.

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair.

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true.

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list.

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone.

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment.

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?”

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him.

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest.

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home.

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico.

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to.

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other.

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped.

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking.

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes.

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been.

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside.

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore.

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud.

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did.

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you.

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him.

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her.

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough.

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier.

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking.

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt.

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more.

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again.

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say.

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight.

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight.

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him.

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive.

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends.

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in.

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take?

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared.

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you.

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote.

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num.

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same.

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card.

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again.

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused.

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different.

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit.

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy.

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years.

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt.

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown.

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place.

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly.

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one.

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth.

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness.

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine.

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both.

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt.

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled.

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him.

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed.

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that.

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time.

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out.

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure.

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn.

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly.

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over.

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did.

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see.

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over.

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out.

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them.

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms.

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation.

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now.

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned.

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth.

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet.

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face.

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry.

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined.

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to.

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him.

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment.

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of.

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes.

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own.

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much.

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline.

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head.

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him.

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you.

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other.

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand.

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent.

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in.

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again.

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice.

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it.

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto.

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head.

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering.

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to.

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became.

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace.

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it.

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real.

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple.

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?”

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you.

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss.

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time.

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy.

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process.

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices.

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived.

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours.

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go.

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching.

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together.

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered.

“I love you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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sweetteainthesummerx · 2 days

Text

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (11)

In which the Europe trip starts

series masterlist

Note: this is kind of a filler chapter, but I'll keep updating! If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know. Enjoy :)

aubreyyang posted on their story

caption: ready for the next two weeks :)

dior.n.goodjohn replied

GONNA MISS U AND U BETTER COME BACK W A MAN

aubreyyang

gonna pretend I only heard the first part ILL MY U TOO

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang looking for a London boy

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

liked by swift_009, alexandrasaintmleux and 99,003 others

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taylorswift love

-- aubreyyang OH MOTHER

alexandrasaintmleux hâte pour l'europe avec ma belle 💞

-- aubreyyang YAY je peux pas attendre!!

user1 damn she getting brave

user2 someone tell her ollie is from essex

charlesleclerc did u just steal my girlfriend

-- aubreyyang I got tired of third wheeling

olliebearman posted on their story

caption: in London today 🇬🇧

landonorris replied to your story

U ARE NOT SLICK

olliebearman

alexandrasaintmleux posted on their story

alexandrasaintmleux with my boyfriend, his son and my girlfriend

tagged: olliebearman, aubreyyang, charlesleclerc

aubreyyang replied to your story

WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME

alexandrasaintmleux

pls just kiss the tension is wild

Sighing, Aubrey slipped her phone back into her pocket. Alex and Charles meant well, but…Ollie meant too much to her to ever risk ruining their friendship. When he crashed, she remembered halting the scene they were blocking because of the sheer amount of notifications she was getting. Her phone dropped out of her hand when she read the first headline, one of the assistants catching it and placing it back into her shaky grip. She felt tears welling up at the photo of the mutilated car. Finally, when he picked up, the relief had hit her like a tsunami. She was afraid of what this sweet boy could make her feel.

“I’ve got it.” Ollie came up behind her in the aisle, chest pressed up against her back, long arms looping around to hoist her (very heavy) luggage easily into the over head storage.

The last time they'd seen each other in person was the club in London. Even then, when they'd only known each other for a little bit, he had given her a hug, guided her where to go, held her drink for her...

And she realized that he was such a touchy feely person and she loved it.

She flashed him a grateful smile in thanks, and tucked herself into the window seat. She watched as he put his much smaller luggage up and helped the elderly woman behind him too.

As she watched him, she realized something. Obviously, he was tall. His mom, Terri, as the older woman insisted Aubrey call her, had shown her some photos of his teenage years, lanky and stretched, with big hands and feet like a huge puppy. But he was one of the tallest on the grid now, the growth spurts of youth still seemingly present. But she hadn’t noticed how broad he’d gotten. Sure, he’d been toned when they met, and she’d been very taken by his arms, but his shoulders looked so wide in his blue sweatshirt and his neck so thick. His chest was maybe four of her hands outstretched. She wanted to check. For science, of course.

He sidled back to her, long legs stretching put and bumping hers.

“Excited?” He grinned, and she had to smile herself.

“It’s a two hour flight, Bearman.”

“Yeah, so we have lots of time. What’s your favourite colour?”

“What?” She laughed, a little shocked.

“No, I’m serious.” He poked her arm, “We hardly talk about this stuff. I want to know you better.”

“Red. I think I really like red.”

charles_leclerc posted

charles_leclerc bread. beer. bon.

liked by charl_locklerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and 990,226 others

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charl_locklerc yo who took that photo of him and Alex

aubreyyang never eating a pretzel again

-- charles_leclerc this is why you pace yourself

-- aubreyyang you would know

-- user1 THE SHADE BAJAJA

-- user2 CONFIRMED SHES WITH THEM IN GERMANU HIEFJIEK

olliebearman don't tell them about the beer

--bearheartxx WHAEJOT HES WITH THEM TOO HIM AND AUBREY HAVE TO BE DATING RIGHT RIGHT

aubreyyang posted to their story

caption: pretty view 🏞️

olliebearman replied to your story

pretty girl more like

aubreyyang

I had a very handsome photographer

dallas_liu replied to your story

BRING ME BACK BREAD PLS

olliebearman posted on their story

caption: actually pretty wild

f1wagsupdate posted

clip one: a video taken from afar on a grainy iPhone camera, four figures walking out of a club in Berlin, Germany. It zooms in, and we see that it is two renowned Ferrari drivers, Leclerc and Bearman. Walking between them with linked arms are Saint Mleux and Yang.

f1wagsupdate during the f1 summer break, Ferrari drivers Leclerc and Bearman are seen with girlfriend and potential girlfriend partying in Germany.

liked by f1girlypop, user1 and 8620 others

f1girlypop YES WERE ABOUT TO GET SUCH GOOD CONTENT

user1 manifesting this is real PLS

user2 stop the hand placement 😫 Ollies hand on her back

cutiesgrid24 the height difference is everything my cousin was there and she said right after that video he picked her up and carried her because her heel broke

-- user1 WIEHFIJOE I just went into cardiac arrest THATS SO CUTEE

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls @destinyg237

#f1 drivers #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #ollie bearman x female reader #Ollie Bearman x female character #mutual pining #social media au #formula 2 #friends to lovers #celebrity!reader #actress!reader #director!reader

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nuumbie · 2 days

Text

BRIGHT STAR

Prompt: And so live—ever or else swoon to death. Dain, what does that strand of hair mean to you? Someone you must kill? Or an object of your penitence?

Author’s Note: The Road Not Taken Trailer stuck with me. Abyss Prince/Princess ! Reader. Something overtook me while writing this… I wrote this so I’ve officially have proof of writing for all three fandoms this blog writes for… but at what cost… ( my sanity )

Trigger Warnings: Depression and not being mentally good is pretty heavy handed, the idea of “missing” someone, grief and loss, just generally upsetting mental concepts. And of course. Genshin Spoilers…

Codependency, babes!

Cursed to live as an immortal. His life no longer belonged to only him. For every life which could no longer speak-- he would live in their place. Until his body had decayed. Until he could no longer move.

And that day would never come. It would haunt him forever until he’s become so numb to everything.

When he meets you all he's managed to save is the sky. The sky to the world which has taken everything from him. He wondered if his brethren would be happy to continue the shared existence of this world even after they’re gone. To care for the soil which they once lived.

Yes, he was a traveler back then — directionless and without a purpose. Without meaning. A wanderer without a home to return to.

Such different lives. Yet you met at the same road at the same time. Khaenri'a Land. He remembers the destruction, the screaming, all the lives lost.

You share those memories. Why was it. That fate chose to let you both live? Was it destiny’s cruel game? That you both found yourselves in the same world with the same matching wounds.

He wonders when you changed paths?

The world moves on while you both stand there. Firmly rooted in that place and time. Perhaps, he could have stayed there forever.

He remembers— you’re the one who broke the silence. The memory grows farther and farther. But his time with you is something he’s yet to let go.

“The Gods.” you walk next to him, you’ve already seen to found your answer as you tilt your head up towards him. You’re the first pair of eyes in a long time who’s peered into him to acknowledge his existence. He hasn’t communicated in awhile. He can’t remember how long. “Are the worst.”

He stares out at the fallen rubble before meeting your gaze. There’s a burning light. “They are.”

“The Gods look down at the people all the same, yet they meddle with their lives and twist them so.” you laugh. “It’s just not fair. Why is it out of my control?”

Dainsleif’s eyes catch the bodies underneath the rubble. “It’s not fair. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re traveling too, right? I know you are.” You glance over the fallen wreckage as if that’s proof enough that he’s looking for somewhere to go. “I’m a traveler too… I’m looking for my sibling.”

He can hear the yearning in your tone. You have faith unlike him. He acknowledges. You still have a chance.

Your voice says you believe that so firmly with all of your heart. Dainsleif glances at the gathered proof there’s nothing left for him at his feet.

“…”

“Come with me.” You finally say. “Travel with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m lonely.” Is your only reply. You don’t look at him. A life-long regret. He’ll never have gotten to known what you were thinking. Not really. “You seemed lonely, too.”

Did he?

He hadn’t noticed.

He thinks about it.

And he has nothing else to do but to live.

“500 mora.”

“Huh?” You squint your eyes. “I— that’s too cheap. Why? Is this a weekly payment or something?”

“In a way it is.” He sighs. “500 mora every week.”

“It should around as much money needed to buy the ingredients for sticky honey roast.”

You give him the stink eye.

But you’re lonely enough to begrudgingly take the mora out into his hands.

And so you both go on a journey. People change lives. You’ve changed the impact of his.

Your first stop is Mondstadt. He’s buying the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. He has a bit extra change to spare. Mondstadt’s prices are cheap.

It’ll get harder to save when you reach the other nations. So, it’s better to save up now.

He realizes you’ve escaped his side a little too late. He looks around— when he isn’t looking you’re already a distance away from him. Even though you’re the one who asked him to walk this path with you.

You’re staring at the Mondstadt Fountain. In hindsight. It’s a very pretty fountain. But you’re staring at the water a bit too closely. He walks up from behind you and stares at his own reflection which looks back at him.

You both do look strange in comparison to the locals. People have been giving you both odd-stares. He makes a face at the water and tries to smile.

He doesn’t look very accommodating nor welcoming at all. His smile drops. And he’s glad that your eyes are always directed everywhere but him.

Glancing towards you. You don’t look at the water like it’s a reflection of yourself but something else.

You finally notice his staring though it’s far too late. You jump up a little — but you pretend like you weren’t so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed him sneak up on you. Like always. He doesn’t tell you he knows. You’ve fallen into a pattern like that.

“Do you have a coin?” You glance at him and try to change topics quickly. “Dain.“

“Ah.” He looks at you and blinks as he realizes what’s going through your head. Though, he wonders if it’s something else. You were staring at your own face. “Oh, that is a Mondstadt Custom. Making wishes… I see.”

He takes out the coin. The leftovers. It’s a meaningless gesture. But, you stare at him like it’s what matters most in this world.

The borough keeper does not have anything to wish for. He realizes rather quickly. He glances down at the coin.

His hand grows a little shaky at that thought. Nothing to wish for. So, he instead directs it towards you.

“You should do it, then.” He offers the coin to you. “You’re the one who has a wish. So, why should I?”

Dumbly, you take it. “Huh? Seriously…?”

“Fine… I guess I will then…”

You think— it doesn’t take that long.

Not nearly as long. You’ve already have your mind up. You glance at the water. “I’ll have to make it come true myself in the end. I’m still going to work as hard.”

“Then, what’s the point of the wish?” Dainsleif asks.

“It’s insurance.” You sigh. “It’s comforting. You seriously have no trace of romance in your heart.”

“What did you wish for?” Dainsleif looks at the coin sunken at the bottom of the fountain.

“If I say it then it won’t come true. You’re meant to keep it a secret, Dain. That’s how wishes work.”

Is that so?

He knows what you wished for. But he doesn’t say it.

Some things are better kept never never said.

He's growing older.

You travel to a Liyuan Village, Quingce. It's the perfect day. You’ve both arrived at perfect timing. They’re holding a small festival to celebrate the living.

The joy they experience is vibrant. In comparison. The both of you stand out. Throughout the laughter, the joy, you both sit there in relative silence. Two unhappy people painted against a happy scene.

The sky being dyed in such unnatural colors reminds him of memories that are turned into reasons. He wonders what those colors mean to you? He wonders what goes on in your head.

You're whispering. Do you expect him not to hear? The sound of the fireworks is loud. Each with a loud pop. He wouldn't expect you to be paying attention to him instead of the loud bursts of light.

"We don't belong in this world." Is the words that leave your mouth. He doesn't respond. You repeat it quieter. "We don't belong here."

You’re looking at the children.

You’re curled up in fetal position. Your knees pressed against your chest. It looks painful. You stand at a ten foot distance to him.

You don’t say anything else and continue to watch the fireworks.

When you walk back to your hotel room your voice is weak and you’re clutching tightly to your own shirt.

“Dain.” You make conversation. “Do you think we could be happy?”

He doesn’t know.

“There’s still a long way ahead. Don’t lose hope.”

“I know I can’t.” You sigh. “I know that.”

“It’s just hard sometimes.” You look outside. “They don’t know a thing.”

“It’s just unfair.” You laugh. “Why can’t I live like that?”

“But that’s how it is.”

“…”

There’s a silence which lasts only a little. It seems you don’t wish to continue down this line of thought. You give.

“Guess so.” Your eyes meet his and you smile sheepishly. “I’m glad I know you. I’m not alone.”

But you are. That’s why you asked. Because you felt there was nobody who could understand.

And, perhaps, he still doesn’t know you either. No. He’s sure he doesn’t.

When you bring a topic up. It’s very likely you never bring it up again.

He doesn’t usher it out of you. The next morning you wave the children goodbye— wishing them happy lives.

They’re younger than you both yet you’ll both grow to outlive them. You’re fundamentally different. Dainsleif presumes that’s the same case with you both as well.

In Inazuma you take a quick resting stop. You plan on camping that night. You seem enraptured that night. You’ve gone into the slow flowing river. It seemed clear. So, he hadn’t stopped you.

You reach your hands towards a bright sky.

You’re in a far off place. He wonders if he could reach you if he really tried.

He doesn’t bother. He sits there and watches your distant figure watch the stars.

He watches after you. Some days. He feels like a bystander in your life.

You stay like that for awhile before you finally return to him. You’re holding your shoes in your hand— you drop them before awkwardly plopping yourself next to him.

“They told me if I was ever lost. All I needed to do was look up to the stars because we’d be looking up at the same sky.”

"I wonder what they'd think if they saw it. The stars are beautiful here. Even though the sky itself is the cause of all my problems. I still love the stars. They won’t ruin it for me.”

“Dain, what do you think?”

You’re not really asking him.

“It’s nice.” He responds. “I think they’re beautiful, too.”

You rarely talk about yourself he notices. You rarely think about yourself.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

“I do. But it hurts. Does that make sense, Dain?”

“It does.” He replies and he hopes that gives you some ounce of peace.

You smile a little. He wishes it could last.

You’re someplace far away. He looks down at you— and, making a move, for the first time he offers you his hand.

You take it and fall asleep against his shoulder.

He clings to your warmth and holds you.

When he wakes up you’re already gone.

You revert back to your normal and neither of you bring it up. But even if it’s left unspoken.

It’s already been said.

In Sumeru while exploring the wilderness you’ve sunken to your knees. The sight of something has caught your attention.

It's rare to see you stray from your goal.

You gaze down at the white flowers for a few seconds. Most often your eyes dance around. It's very rare that something strikes you enough to linger on. To hold still for just a moment in time.

It's rare that you let anything hold you back. Each nation. You grow a little faster. A little more distant.

You glance up at him, wordlessly as you go to kneel to clutch the flower between your palms, it's often that you do things just like this. Ask him to speak up on the matter and info-dump so you can understand the world better. It's the little conversation you both have.

“Dain, what is this?”

"It's a flower native to Kharenri'ah." His heart winces a little at the word. It appears that the wound has not mended itself. It won't ever. He's made peace with that. He merely wonders when he'll learn to live with that truth. "It's called the Intreyvat. It has 2-weeks before it wilts. It's aligned with elemental energy as for why it glows. Elemental Energy isn't edible nor does it taste very good for those who've tried it. So please do not eat it."

You don't respond. So he continues with other facts assuming you're not satisfied. "It's called the wanderer's flower for it's properties which--"

"I'm not going to eat it, idiot. I'm not insane to eat flowers. You're my emergency food rations." Contradiction. He thinks that cannibalism is more insane than eating flora. But, he chocks it up to either sarcasm or a testament to your oddness. It's likely the former. Your face warmed up. Embarrassed that he’d even imply it. Melanin rushing straight to your face to the tips of your ears. you whisper, hushed, as you cradle the flower delicately in your arms. Like it can hear your argument. It can't. It’s not alive in that sense. a fact he would point out. But he knows it’s not the time for that. He opts for silence as he usually does. "They just grew these back home. My actual home. Before it got destroyed."

You have a deep longing in your eyes. All-consuming devotion. "Some things remain constant through different worlds. There's likely another you somewhere on one of the many worlds that exist."

"I saw these with my sibling when I first arrived at Teyvat. The flower were the first thing we saw. A field of them." you churn out. your grip on the flower grows tighter. it's petals crush beneath your fingers at how tight you hold it. you don't seem to notice. " All things meet similar fates. So, of course these flowers were meant to fade away in this world too."

"It’s okay. These aren’t actually my homeland’s flowers. It’s not mine.” You laugh as you let go of the flower. leaving the crushed white petals lay dirtily discarded on the floor. "It was never mine. But the sight of it regardless bought me joy."

It's left in the dirt. You stand on wobbly knees. He thinks to mention it but you have enough to worry about already.

Dainsleif knows it’s better not to linger as well. So he chases after you. At some point it changed from him walking meaninglessly.

He drifts after your footsteps. Behind you.

You’re always changing. Slowly, bit by bit, the person he met so long ago becomes a stranger distant in his mind.

Time is passing. He doesn’t keep track. Do you?

When you’re at Fontaine you finally let yourself break.

So maybe you are. It explains why you finally go mad. The process of traveling place to place.

It must have been draining.

His hand curls around your face. You’re both doing an odd-job for money to travel so often from place to place.

You’ve both finished killing another hilichurl camp which stood in the way. Wiping the splattered blood from your cheek. A little too closely but you don’t seem to mind. “Is it yours or theirs?”

You don’t answer. Which does nothing to ease his worries. He goes to wipe the rest of the blood to see if you have any injuries. This isn’t like either of you. To dote on another like this. These moments are sparse, few and far between in your own words until you’re at a certain breaking point — nothing more than travel companions until you need someone to catch you before you fall. That’s why you called for him.

Because you were alone. Because he was alone.

It’s transactional.

It should be, anyway. You tremble and bite your lip hard enough that it bleeds. What you have feels heavier than that.

“I don’t want to ever kill another hilichurl again.”

Ah.

“We’ll never have to kill another one again.” He tries to soothe you. “We can stop taking requests like this.”

It must be bad. You’re holding still. Barely reacting to the feather-light touch. He squeezes your face.

You react at that. Your eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He lets go once he sees that’s enough to rouse you out of your own head.

“We should take a break.” He finally says. “We haven’t had one in awhile-“

“I don’t want to stop.” You reply back. “It gets worse when we stop.”

You‘ve been tired for a long time.

Wiping the rest of the blood on his cape. He doesn’t struggle. But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely indifferent to the process. But he never struggles against you. So he doesn’t even budge. He just looks at you with that prey animal stare reserved for only you. “Ah.”

“My cape.” He holds the tassel and flops it around. As subdued and subpar as it is. “Isn’t a napkin.”

“We’re both dirty, now.” That brings an odd joy he’ll have to worry about later. You ramble as you use it to wipe your tears away as well. “Now we both need showers and…”

“…”

“Dain.” You ask quietly. “Why do you stay with me?”

Oh.

You’re not yourself. You’ll regret this later. He comforts you now and answers regardless.

“I care about you even if it doesn’t seem that way at times.”

You stare at him like his words are hard to believe. Your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Who would expect that? He can see the thoughts racing behind your eyes. But, what you settle on is— “You’re so stupid.”

You don’t seem entirely unhappy with his answer despite the words that you say considering you’re laughing. It’s an oddly sad laugh.

He tries to ignore the pink color that rises to his cheeks.

“So stupid.” You cry a little harder.

He knows you wish someone else could hold you.

He knows that it isn’t the same nor will it ever live up to the real thing.

You both never purposefully kill a Hilichurl again.

He does his best to avoid them on the roads. Whenever you see one — a deep sadness falls over you. So, he does his best to stifle that grief and ease that burden,

You haven’t asked as much questions lately since arriving at Natlan. You’ve quit speaking entirely at some points in time.

Your light has dimmed. This world is killing you.

“Dain?”

“Why do you travel at all?”

He stares at you through a mouthful of mushroom-chicken skewers.

You’ve never asked before. You’ve asked all sorts of questions. But never that.

“It was sort of implied at the fountain that you didn’t know.”

“Did you figure it out, Dain?”

…

Maybe he did.

He thinks about keeping it to himself. Holding on to that answer just this once.

But maybe it’s something worth saying.

No, maybe it’s something…

He just wants to admit. To say out loud. Just once.

Even though he knows you know.

“I want to see your journey to its end.”

You instantaneously groan.

“I’d thought you’d answer that.” You pout. “When did you grow so obsessed with me?”

He doesn’t know himself. He doesn’t know why or how.

“You should live for yourself.” Hypocrite. “Beyond Khaenri'ah and beyond me.”

Dainsleif sighs and…

He continues. Despite the voice in his head. Telling him it likely isn’t right.

“I really like you.”

Time stops.

He’s a little surprised the words actually came out of his mouth. But they did.

He can’t take it back now that it’s been said. That’s how it works.

“Huh?”

He could pretend that his words had a different meaning. He could create some lie. And you could just eat it up.

But he chooses not to. Why is that?

“I like you. That’s why I wish to see it through with you. I wish to see you happy. Typically. You wish to be with the people you like.” He repeats. Louder. So you can’t misinterpret it or pretend you’ve heard him wrong, He chews on the mushroom skewer. Feeling his face heat up. Some days. He wished his mask covered the entirety of his face.

He feigns how okay he is with these words leaving his mouth. Pretends like he isn’t pouring a deep part of himself out to you. “Don’t mind where. I just wish to be by your side.”

“You’ve been my reason for awhile now.“

“I want to see you achieve your own happiness. If I could be there till your end. I would.”

And he continues. A little too much. He realizes. He stops and looks at you to use as measure for how much he’s talked.

Quite a lot. You stare at him in horror.

“I— don’t repeat it!” You yell and look around like somebody can hear you both. There’s nobody for miles. In the end. It’s always you both alone. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You asked.” Dainsleif points out and bites down on the shame. “I answered.”

“..-!?”

“It wouldn’t work.” You stumble. “You and me—“

“It doesn’t have to be as lovers. My… current goal… the… reason I’m traveling with you… what I want most is just… to see you be okay.“

“Your terminology was confusing! It’s not my fault—“

“But if you want to entertain the idea… of… us being partners and such. I wouldn’t mind traveling with you. To see other worlds. If you could bring me.” He can’t bear to look at you. “Though, I have a task as a Borough Keeper… I…”

“You wish for me to live for myself. Is that not proof I am? Willing to find a reason to live past that role?”

“T-Travel with me…” the room grows hotter. “Wait, that’s not the point!”

“It still doesn’t work!” You yelp. “Just…”

“…”

“Maybe at the end of the road when I reunite with my...” You mumble. “I… no…”

“No… I don’t think… you… we should.”

…

“We shouldn’t.”

You don’t explain why.

Dainsleif flushes… and looks away. Understanding. He tries to be understanding.

Even if he’s not very good at it.

“I understand… I told you. I just… wish for your happiness.”

“You shouldn’t.“

…

And you don’t elaborate. You never really do.

He doesn’t understand how bad it gets until it’s too late.

Because you were right.

Thinking about it now, it was an omen, a warning more than anything. You likely should have thrown him loose a long time ago.

Did you not think about that? Or was it now when everything’s finally proved that this was where your path must lead? Were you hoping that there was another option?

Was this your last choice?

Well, it’s already history. You must have known that. That’s why you were so insistent on it. To limit the heart-ache. The tragedy. If you held on even tighter. Then, the pain of separation would hurt even more.

You’re already painfully familiar.

You should have never offered your hand to him at all. But it was this journey it was knowing which made you into this, wasn’t it?

He was there to witness your unraveling. And he didn’t do a thing to stop it.

The sword has pierced through his stomach. He’ll survive. That’s what he was cursed to do. To eternally grieve. You know that. You aren’t actually trying to kill him. You’re sparing him. And that’s even more painful.

There’s no light in your eyes. You’ve chosen the road ahead. It’s a road you cannot travel back from. You will die. You will destroy everything. And you will repeat the endless cycle of bloodshed.

This is the second time his reason for living was entirely stolen. How fun. How grand. How sick. But he should have known, too. Even if you’re immortal as well—

The things he loved were bound to get torn from him. His life will forever be a game of give and take.

“There’s nothing else.” You glance out into the darkness. “For me to see. I’ve seen it all. And it’s driven me mad.”

“I understand now. You don’t have to follow me anymore. You’ve done your job of seeing me through to the end. And I thank you for that. You’ve been a good guide. I’ve cherished this time together.”

Like this isn’t it. As if you aren’t severing your paths entirely. You dig the sword deeply into his stomach like you’re cutting whatever has connected you both all this time to each other.

But it did matter. Everything mattered. It mattered so much to the point where you’ve come down to this. He holds the sword and tries to push it out.

You’ve detached. When was it when you pulled yourself away from him entirely? He never noticed the gap between you had grown so deep.

“Dain.”

“You’re not joining me are you?”

“I’m not.” He responds from the floor. He chokes on his own blood. It isn’t the first. Nor will it be the last time. He can see his future from here. Because life refuses to let him live languid life. He could never agree with the tragedy you intend to cause. The world you wish to ruin— still belongs to him. “You’re right. I can’t agree. I could never agree.”

And more than that, you’re likening yourself to a monster. This path. Paved in blood. If you walk it you will be no better than them. You’re making a mistake. You’re so much more than this. And he knows. Because he was there for you for so long.

“If this is the path you plan to take. I will oppose for eternity.” He spits.

For some reason that gets you to share with him a rare smile.

The way you smile at him then still haunts his dreams.

“I knew you could do it.”

It is your hands which he trusted so which push him into the abyss. The hands which he had done his best to have lovingly held. It is his first betrayal.

And yet he still tries to have faith.

Your paths diverge…

But regardless of that.

You’re not out of reach.

He can still save you.

Is this how you’ve felt all this time? With a flickering inch of hope? Given so little yet still believing in that faint chance of reunion?

He’ll force your paths back together himself.

Mondstadt.

He’s begun to try to count the time.

He just measures it against the day which took everything.

500 years.

He's come here before. The bar called Dawn Winery’s-- it's peaceful in comparison to the other worlds. Though so dreadfully close to Celestia. You’re close. He knows you are. Thus why he’s here to begin with.

The bartender has changed again since he was last here. He’s witnessed many faces since that time so long ago. He almost got mistaken. It seems it’s the previous incarnation’s son? He wears his father's skin, has his bright crimson hair, the only thing lacking is the life in his eyes. He must not be have taken the loss well.

Dainsleif's taste buds have faded with time. But the wine goes down as easily as he remembers. He relies on his sight to enjoy it. It’s changed over the years. The bottle itself. The liquid’s color isn’t as he remembers and it never is the same—

Footsteps.

A familiar voice.

He can feel time pause.

“Hi… I’m an adventurer from the adventure’s guild!”

He doesn’t respond.

The voice is insistent despite him clearly ignoring them.

“How do you do… I’m an honorary member of the Knights of Favonius!”

If he turns around, if he wants so deeply, then it feels as if it’ll be even farther. If the very act of wanting will make it so Celestia tears it away from him.

But the voice continues. A different one. There’s another. There’s two?

“Wow… he has no intention of paying us any mind.”

“So… uh… I’m a traveler.”

Two people, one pair of footsteps. This isn’t an ordinary person.

…

Dainsleif doesn’t look back but he repeats a question. A question from a long time ago.

“A traveler you say. Why do you travel?”

He can feel the awkward smile tugging on the other party’s lips. There’s a light. Unending. Unendurable.

“Well… looking for my lost relative… could it be possible that you’ve seen them?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #🗑️ trash writes #x reader #finally the holy trinity is completed #i’m sorry this is all based on the line where he talks about saving #dainsleif canonically goes ‘i can fix them’. he can’t. 😭😭😭#technically can be read as Dain Aether or Dain lumi #but they’re self inserts for a reason… let me project #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader

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sharpbutsoft · 3 days

Text

You Should Fear What You Already Know

7.10 Spec / T+ / 1k / Author Chose Not To Use Warnings

Buck’s always hated hospitals. The sickly smell of bleach and illness, the squeaky floors and buzzing fluorescent lights, the fact that he could never tell which was worse; being the victim or the victim’s family. He thinks he’s made up his mind about that last one today.

Sitting by Bobby’s hospital bed, Buck’s mind keeps getting stuck on how small he looks, how young. Objectively he knows Bobby’s not old, per se, but he’s always seemed so solid, so sure of himself and his place in this world. Like steel, or concrete.

Unyielding.

But Buck knows what repeated application of stress can do to steel, to concrete, to strong men. He’s seen it first hand; never needed to see it again.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says, taking Bobby’s pale, fragile hand in his own. It’s warm to the touch, calloused like Buck’s own, but smaller, and that feels wrong. Nothing about Bobby should be smaller than Buck. “Every coma is different, you know? But I’m gonna believe you can until proven otherwise.”

Chim hadn’t heard anything. Buck had heard some things; not everything. But Bobby’s heart stopped, and Buck’s heart stopped, and maybe that’s the common denominator, the link between them. It’s a little hope, but it’s the only one he’s got.

“You- you said the other day, after I made lunch, that your work here is done. And at the time I- I was excited ‘cause I really tried, you know?

“I put everything into that meal, just like you do, and it must have worked. You looked so happy, after just one bite. And I was so proud of myself-“ Buck sniffs, wipes at his face with the back of his hand. “I was proud, ‘cause I’d impressed you.

“But I’ve changed my mind. You’re not, okay? Your work can’t be done, Bobby, ‘cause I made your lasagne for Tommy today and I don’t know what happened but the sauce, it was too thin, you know? I need you to show me again.”

Buck squeezes his hand again, then relaxes it. The last thing Bobby needs is a bruised hand if… when he wakes up.

“I know you can hear me, okay? Because I heard you. After the lightning, in my coma dream. I heard you praying for me and- and I came back to you. So now it’s your turn, Bobby. I’ve seen what a world without you looks like and I can’t go back there. I won’t.”

Bobby’s heart monitor continues to beep, steady as a funeral march, not a stutter in its pace to indicate he’s heard anything Buck’s said. The low wheeze of the vent accompanies it, a nightmarish harmony. Buck wants to wake up.

He wants to wake up and see Bobby, whole and well and smiling and alive. But Buck is awake and Bobby might never be again and it’s the most unimaginable pain he’s ever felt.

Worse than the radiation scare in the tunnel - at least then Buck could talk to Bobby. Could wave off his concerns with gentle - and not so gentle - words. Could walk and talk and make them breakfast and smile.

Could call Buck overprotective with an eye roll, and a warm hand on his shoulder.

“I lied to you, then,” Buck admits between clenched teeth. “You weren’t the same, in my coma dream. You- you were dead.” He whispers the word, like speaking it aloud could invite the possibility of it into the room. “You were dead, because you relapsed.

And the team never noticed how bad it was getting, because I wasn’t there to provoke you, I guess. After the plane went down.”

Buck laughs humorlessly as he remembers how even in his own head, the thought of Bobby not being there nearly killed him too.

“I think my brain might have over-inflated my importance in your life, honestly, but it- it devastated me. And I still- I can’t-“ The tears come rushing back from somewhere so deep, so dark that Buck’s not sure they’ll ever stop once they spill. “I won’t live without you, okay? You know better than anyone how stubborn I am, Bobby. So you better come back to us.

“Your work here’s not done, and it’s never going to be done. Athena needs her husband. The 118 needs their captain. May and Harry need their dad, and I-“

That’s the thing, isn’t it? That precious, unspoken line they’ve never crossed.

Because no one’s ever cared for him like Bobby has. No one’s worried about him, and protected him, and loved him with exasperation and anger and fear and joy so big and bold that Buck’s always been scared to look at it too close, let alone reach out and claim it.

Now he might be too late.

But if there’s any part of Bobby that can hear him through the haze, then Buck’s going to be brave, gonna take the chance. He’d give all his blood, his plasma, his marrow. Any organ they could wrench from him he’d give to Bobby in a heartbeat, in the space between them.

Seems only fair to give him the title that goes with it.

“I need my dad, too. So, wherever you are, come back?” Please?”

Title is from Plastic Flowers by The Front Bottoms, don’t listen to it unless you wanna cry

I’ll post it to Ao3 later once I have it edited ✌️

#911 spec fic #911 spoilers #evan buckley #bobby nash #911 abc #911 #author is choosing Not to include warnings but uhhh dm me if you wanna check anything specific that’s no problem:)#my fic

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itsabouttimex2 · 24 hours

Text

A Brand New Journey:

Part Six

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

(Got requested to make a Shadowpeach bot, thought I’d drop it here. And speaking of bot requests, drop yours here!)

“C’mon, kiddo. It’s a simple question. I’m not gonna get mad, I promise.”

You take a moment to think. There’s… a lot to say, isn’t there? Having known the monkey for just over a year now, there’s not much of yourself that’s been unshared. How many times did you bare your heart to this man?

…and would one more really hurt?

Swallowing the last bit of a white chocolate and caramel mooncake, you set down the stained napkin it was held in and throw the pastry back with a sip of tea. Deep breaths, now.

You’ve been meaning to say it for a while now, anyways.

“…you’re the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man’s heart crack before.

But there’s an eventual moment there, after the initial jerk of his body, after the instinctive clench of his hand, after the flinch spurred by the mooncake’s insides spilling onto his lap… that Macaque softens.

“…I am?” Is the first question, and his voice is soft, feathery and wavering. This isn’t what he expected. This isn’t what he prepared for.

What you’ve said slides far past the realm of all his schemes and carefully curated words, all his fastidious planning.

How could he have expected this?

You were supposed to respect him! Fear him!

But what you feel for him is- is a word he hasn’t said for a very long time. It’s a word he hasn’t even thought of.

Hotter than hatred. Deeper than despair.

Love.

The word leaves his chest empty, his breath spent. God, it hurts.

When was the last time he was loved? When, without hesitation he was adored? When he was Wanted?

“…kid. C’mere.”

Macaque doesn’t wait for a response- he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you flush, the thrum of his heart speeding up at the closeness.

You’re one of the only good things he has. He’s lost or destroyed or driven away the rest, all that was or could have been. Macaque doesn’t like to think of his sins- it’s easier to play the victim card.

If he thinks of Sun Wukong as the bad guy, it’s easier to live with what he’s done. To live with manipulating and betraying and stealing and trying to kill. If he throws all the blame onto the Monkey King, then Macaque can pretend to be a good person.

Paint himself white. Paint Wukong black. Ignore the unevenly gray reality.

And he can live with hurting innocent people and destroying their homes and stealing their powers and trying to take their lives.

(But something deep down knows and burns with the knowledge that he’s more monster than man, that he lost all right to be loved with the worst of his unrepentant actions.)

(It aches a little more that uncaring and unregretted deception is what led you to him.)

(He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve anyone. And he knows that it’s wrong to utilize shrouds and veils to keep you in the dark, that it’s wrong to manipulate you, that it’s wrong to groom you into being his shadowy successor, into inheriting his selfish hatred.)

(But when has a villain ever cared about being wrong?)

Macaque rather quickly shoves you away , jumping to his feet with a fanged and glittering grin.

“Stay here, kid. I’m gonna grab you something I’ve been putting together, okay?”

With a curt nod you settle into place, taking the opportunity to stretch and yawn. You had been getting tired, and take this opportunity to reach for the lotus paste mooncake you had been nibbling on- only to find it gone.

Funny. You don’t remember finishing it.

And… there’s a blanket around your shoulders. Did Macaque put it there? You certainly don’t remember something like that happening.

Maybe things had just gotten so cozy that you drifted off for a minute or two, and he had left to fetch you the black and purple quilt.

That was probably it, yeah.

You shrug the weighty comforter from your shoulders, hoping to shake the supposed sleep from your eyes. In hopes of waking up a little further, you stride to the potted plants that had become a fixture in Macaque’s house.

Beneath the brilliantly blooming tansies and dahlias, red roses have begun to sprout and bud, colorful petals peeking from underneath their green sheathes.

Stuffing in a few spikes of fertilizer, you sprinkle the soil with a light dousing of water.

The thing that breaks you from the quaint task is the telltale chime of your phone, an old song playing loudly. But it doesn’t play very long- it seems your calls don’t hold for very long anymore.

———————————————————————-

Rumble and Savage don’t know much about the world yet. There’s a lot to catch up on, in this new world of neon and metal.

Little glittering rectangles that beam light through black screens and send sound miles away in an instant.

“Phones,” Macaque had called them, dangling yours by the bejeweled strap. Both items had been a gift from Mei, a girl you were well on track to becoming friends with. “Hit this button if it starts making noise. I don’t want anything taking the kid’s attention away.”

Seeing no reason to argue with their creator, both had wholeheartedly agreed to keep vigil over your electric-filled “phone” and hit the de-activating lever when it sounded.

Like this moment right now.

Together, they scrabble to unlock the phone, clawed fingers moving just out of sync as the two simians work to punch in your passcode.

Once it’s open, Savage rips the phone from his younger brother’s hands, boosting himself into your bed to put some distance between him and his junior shadow.

As Rumble tries to climb the bed himself in opposition to his brother’s lashing tail, Savage takes note of a little red dot in the bottom right corner of your screen.

An incoming call. From MK.

The elder of the two goes still for a moment, then snaps his claw against the power button harshly enough to leave a scratch through the metal nub. Angered by the mere sight of an enemy’s name, Savage slings the phone down and snags his little brother by the hair, dragging him into the shadows as Rumble squeals and struggles.

———————————————————————-

Right when you go to figure out what happened with your phone in the guest room, Mavaque rounds the corner with a bundle of neatly folded cloth.

“Running off already?” The simian lightheartedly asks, using his tail to snag your wrist. He doesn’t hesitate to drag you closer, pushing the outfit into your arms.

“Go get changed,” is the command he gives, before you can start asking questions. “Bathroom is that way, remember? Hurry it up!”

A push to the north, and you’re stumbling into the tiled room before realizing what’s happening. It seems sometimes as though your hands move of their own will and volition when Macaque gives you a command.

The garb is easy to put on, a black and yellow ru. Though you fumble the sash, the bandana comes easily around your throat. Black boots with gold brim. Red pants.

You look like a little “Mini Macaque”, or a very seasoned cosplayer.

“C’mon, kid! Hurry it up and come here!”

You stumble from the bathroom and into the living room once more, unsteady with the new gear. Macaque snags you close again and rights the sash, then flops back down onto his cushion.

He never been this excited before.

Something’s up.

“I want to tell you a little tale- come and sit with me, kiddo.”

Macaque pats the cushion nearest to his own, looking almost soft again. He’s already got the blanket in his hands, ready to unfold and drape it around your shoulders.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Macaque #Yandere Rumble #Yandere Savage #Choose Your Own Adventure #A Brand New Journey

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magnificentstrawberryomen · 1 day

Text

Indisposed (Noah Sebastian fanfiction) chapter six

18+

Autors note: hello, this chapter maybe is a bit shorter than usual, but i really wanted to update for u guys so hope yall still enjoy it :)

chapter six

A few hours have passed, and me and the rest of the crew have been busy planning everything and working our plans out after. I begin getting all the outfits ready for the band members and in my free moments between that, my eyes grow big every time I have a chance to walk through the big venue, standing with on the stage with the other crew members now and then, talking about how amazing this venue and the chance to work here is.

Jolly is the last person before Noah to get dressed and ready by me, and we sit in silence when I put a little powder on his face, my mood is a little less joyful now because I have to think about the comments he and Nick made in the breakfast cafe. I really hope this moment with Jolly goes over fast, because as usual, Noah is the last person for me to dress up, and the thought gives me all kinds of butterflies.

‘Go ahead and walk towards the dressing room already, I’m almost done with Jolly,’ I text Noah.

‘You know,’ Jolly begins when I button up his blouse, him now looking down at me. ‘I’ve never quite seen Noah like this before. At least not in a very long time.’

I furrow my eyebrows, trying to stay focused on his blouse. ‘What do you mean, exactly?’

‘Well… Ever since you guys, y’know,’ he mumbles, and I feel my cheeks heat up, making Jolly clear his throat. ‘Ever since that moment, Noah has some kind of spark in his eyes, that he has lost for so long. Like… he is in his element again. Of course this show tonight is a big deal for all of us… but you really make him dare to put out his true emotions again. Trust me-he has been jumping up and down like a little kid five times today just by seeing the stage,’ he chuckles, and I laugh along for a moment, picturing that perfectly in my head.

But then I deeply sigh after. ‘Yeah, sadly we have to stop doing the things we’re… doing, I fear,’ I mumble.

Jolly then shrugs. ‘I mean… Why would you two? I mean-I’m sure we can figure something out with our management. With the way he is so bright again right now, it sure as hell is worth doing that. You two got me and the rest of the guys’ full support,’ he softly smiles, and I smile right back at him.

We get interrupted by the footsteps of Noah in the hallway coming closer to the dressing room, making Jolly wink at me, whispering ‘good luck’ before quickly squeezing my shoulder. Noah and Jolly greet each other quietly by patting each other on the back before Jolly leaves the room, leaving Noah’s face standing confused for a few moments by the way he is gone so quickly. I just shake my head at him in reassurance, and Noah’s confusion already quickly gets replaced by a big grin.

‘Hey you,’ he softly greets me, wrapping his arms around my waist and squeezing my hips gently.

‘Hi,’ I smile, and just as the words have left my mouth Noah already places his own on mine, getting a deep kiss as a greeting as well, which makes me smile in between of it.

‘Before you can even think of it-we have a time schedule,’ I interrupt him when his hands slide in the jeans pockets of my behind, making him deeply chuckle.

‘Alright, alright,’ he says while playfully rolling his eyes, making me smirk when I let him sit down on the makeup chair.

He just watches me doing my thing in silence, just as he always does, making my heart pound a little faster and the butterflies in my stomach fly around at the same pace. When I help him with his first outfit, I can’t help but blush now and then when I see him half naked and dress in front of me, of course a goddamn cheeky smile appears on his face whenever he notices. But he stays quiet and doesn't give me any flirty or teasing comments, he just shakes his head sometimes whilst trying to bite back a grin.

But when he stands in front of his dressing mirror again, a slight nervous sigh escaping his lips as he gently runs a hand through his hair, his silence makes sense. He looks himself up and down for a moment-his hair is perfectly styled and neat by me, and he has a long black jacket on, matching with his dark grey pants underneath and black comfortable yet fashionable shoes. He runs his hand through his hair again, taking another deep breath as he looks at the black ski mask he is holding in his hands.

I wrap my hands around his neck as he sits down on the makeup chair again, looking at both of us in the reflection of the mirror. ‘Hey… you got this,’ I say, kissing his cheek.

Noah immediately smiles as my arms loop around his neck from behind, his hands resting over my arms by his chest, tilting his head slightly to the side to look at the reflection of the two of us together in the mirror.

‘I know,’ he says with a chuckle, leaning the back of his head gently against my forehead.

‘Also… I kinda want to talk to you about something,’ I nervously say, and I sit down on the makeup table right in front of him, so my legs can nervously dangle.

Noah’s eyebrows slightly furrow, and he looks at me for a moment with a look of worry as he suddenly stands up straight with his hands now gently resting on my thighs, almost standing in between my legs. ‘What is it?’

‘Well… me and Jolly have been talking,’ I say while biting my lip, and I notice Noah's jaw clenching by the mention of his name, so I quickly place one of my hands on top of his. ‘A good talk, don’t worry,’ I say with a small, nervous smile, making Noah look more relaxed again.

‘And… he basically said that we got the rest of the band’s full support. As in… if we want to-I don’t know-’ my eyes trail to my feet, getting a little shy. ‘-ever want to get together or something,’ I quickly finish my sentence while mumbling it, my legs now nervously swinging even faster.

Noah’s jaw slightly drops, as if he needs to progress what I’m saying for a moment, but quickly recovers himself when a small and surprised smile begins to form on his face. ‘Are you serious?’ he quietly asks, and he lifts one of his hands to gently touch my chin, tilting my face upwards to look at him.

‘Yeah,’ I say as a soft smile also begins to appear on my face by the twinkle in his eyes alone. ‘So… Jolly encouraged us to talk to management about it… if it would get more serious, or we want to date, and all that stuff,’ I say, getting a little shy again.

Noah’s eyes light up the moment he hears me saying that, a bright smile spreading across his face that he seems to not be able to hide. ‘Yeah… I’d love that. I mean, we should talk about it with them soon,’ he says with a warm smile, gently stroking his thumb along my cheek as he looks down at me, looking a little flustered himself.

A warm and hopeful feeling starts to spread across my chest, my heart racing because of him confirming he has the same wish as me. But then suddenly my phone begins to ring, getting both me and Noah to look at it with confusion. Who would call me this late?

‘Should you… answer that?’ Noah asks, his voice sounding a little worried.

‘I think so,’ I quietly say, and then pick up the phone. ‘Hello?’ I answer the phone, putting it on speaker for Noah so he can listen along.

‘Good evening, is this Hailey Clark I’m speaking to?’ an older sounding female voice answers through the phone.

‘Yeah… that’s me,’ I say, seeing Noah’s eyebrows getting furrowed, but also with curiosity.

‘Great! I’m Clare Johnson you’re speaking with, creative director of Vogue Magazine. This month’s issue is all about the Social Media Awards. Ever heard of that?’

As Noah listens with me, his eyes widen when he hears the woman mention the Social Media Awards, but I still feel a little confused.

‘Yeah… I’ve heard of that before.’

‘Well Hailey, we have great news for you. You have been nominated!’ the woman on the phone beams, and my eyebrows raise in surprise.

‘Nominated…?’

‘Yeah! Because of your Instagram account, posting about your work and backstage content and all. The audience really seem to enjoy it,’ Clare explains.

A wide smile spreads across my face, and I excitedly look at Noah now, who looks at me with an excited and proud twinkle in his eyes. ‘Wow, that’s so cool, really,’ I beam.

Clare laughs through the phone. ‘Right? Well, my question is, if we can interview you this week, and have a little photoshoot for inside the magazine and all. Each candidate gets their own personal issue.’

My eyes widen, still looking at Noah with excitement and shock while the woman talks to me through the phone. ‘Yeah, yeah of course! The band I work for has a show tonight, after that we are free for a couple of days. I’m sure I can fit the interview in between that.’

Noah leans down to wrap his arms around me tightly, giving me a tight but also excited hug while his eyes are still slightly widened with shock and disbelief.

‘I’m so proud of you,’ he whispers in my ear with a big and bright proud smile on his face, leaning down to give me a brief but tender kiss just as much as a response to my excited tone as an expression of his own excitement. I smile back at him as a thank you, feeling touched and warm because of his congratulations.

‘Great! If you email me the days and times you are available, I’ll make sure my assistant makes an appointment with you through there,’ Clare answers me back.

‘Wow… thanks so much again, I really am grateful for this,’ I smile.

‘Of course! Have a great evening and my best of luck.’

‘Thank you so much! Bye!’ I say and hang up, still sitting on the makeup table with a little disbelief.

A huge smile is still growing on Noah’s face as I end the phone call. ‘This is so amazing,’ he says quietly, gently stroking his thumb over my waist as he still gently holds his arms around me, the genuine proud and excited smile still on his lips.

‘Right? A whole interview and photoshoot, what the hell,’ I exclaim, still grinning widely. ‘I am so glad my work and everything I share gets appreciated,’ I then say, almost getting a little emotional over it.

‘And because I share backstage content of silly people like you,’ I say, now wrapping my around his waist as well while I look up to his face with a small smirk.

A small and happy chuckle leaves Noah’s lips, his expression seeming completely overtaken by how proud he is and how happy he is for me. He gently dips down and presses his lips against mine in a loving, tender kiss that he holds me in for a while, giving me absolute warmth and butterflies not only in my stomach but in my whole body it seems, before gently pulling away again to look into my eyes again with that still warm smile on his lips.

‘Speaking of…’ I begin, grabbing my phone again, opening the camera app. ‘I’ve shot some pictures of the venue today, also for my Instagram page. If you could just pose a little for me, the post will be perfect,’ I playfully say with a wink.

Noah returns it with a small and thoughtful grin, nodding while he suddenly lifts himself up to jump on the table and sit down behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder as he then flips the camera on selfie mode, wrapping his legs around mine. I blush heavily because I did not expect him to pose with me-especially with him being quite a private person and all-so when I take the picture of us together you can most clearly tell that I am getting all shy and flustered if you'd look it back, a twinkle of love for Noah being visible in my eyes.

Noah seems to notice it and chuckles quietly to himself, and he gently plants tender kisses against my neck while his chin is still on my shoulder, his eyes then fixated on the phone's camera screen. I can’t help but giggle at the same moment as my phone takes another picture, so when I then open my camera roll to look back at the pictures, you can see me slightly squeezing my eyes shut in a happy manner while Noah kisses my neck. I get more than butterflies in my stomach, it feels like a whole damn zoo at this point.

When Noah climbs off the table I just stare a little longer at our pictures, lost in thoughts and feelings, and I then notice Noah leaning down towards my face again for another brief kiss while gently stroking his fingers over my hip.

‘That’s just the picture I needed,’ he says with a slight smirk on his lips as I look up to him, his eyes still looking excited and proud.

‘Besides being hot, you can also be very adorable,’ I grin while I stand on the tip of my toes to kiss him again.

He chuckles quietly against my lips as he feels them pressing against his. ‘Yeah? That's the only way to describe me now?’ he teases with another chuckle and a smirk, gently placing the top of his index finger under my chin to hold my head in place while his lips hover over mine with a teasing look on his face.

‘Careful now, I’ve dressed you up so nicely, you don’t want to mess up my work do you?’ I jokingly pout.

‘Maybe I do. Maybe I like looking like a mess,’ he answers with another smirk, teasingly trailing a finger across my neck for a moment and tilting my head to the side a little more, to then lean down and plant a trail of kisses along the side of my neck.

My eyes flutter shut, feeling heated by his touch, but gently pushing him off after as I chuckle a little. ‘Ah ah ah, Sebastian. Focus, you have to get on stage in about half an hour.’

Noah lets out a light sigh at the moment he feels me push him off, and his eyes linger on his reflection in the mirror for a moment before reluctantly nodding and sighing out once more.

‘You’re right…’ he then says with an almost annoyed yet somewhat amused laugh, his eyes trailing over everything about his appearance for a moment as he makes sure everything is still in place and styles just right, his hair included.

I can’t help but stare at his reflection as well, he is just so attractive like that. His broad shoulders and arms in his jacket, his dark messy yet styled hair, the way the slightly tight clothes underneath fit his body so well… I swallow while I turn around quickly, pretending to look for something in my bag. I’m down bad I fear.

After a few moments I can hear him sigh one more time, walking up behind me and then wrapping his arms around my waist. ‘See something you like little mouse? ’he whispers into my ear and I can feel the smirk curling around his lips.

I bite my lip as I grin, still feeling his lips pressed against my ear. ‘Yeah, you look quite good in this outfit,’ I say, turning around to pull at his jacket so I can lean him in for a kiss.

‘I have such a good dressing style to compliment your great looks of course,’ I then joke after. Noah seems like he can’t help but smirk himself as I keep complimenting him.

‘Mweh, a little cocky today, aren’t we?’ he says as he gently grabs my hips, spinning around the two of us as he presses me up against the wall behind the mirror, his smirk now turning mischievous as he presses his body fully up against mine.

I raise my eyebrows at him with a playful grin. ‘Cocky? Me?’ I pretend to be offended. ‘I got this job for a reason, ay.’

He chuckles quietly once more once he hears how sarcastic I am, his eyes glinting with mischief as he looks down at me with a teasing smirk on his face at my words, bringing the tip of his index finger up to gently push up the tip of my chin again, so my head is raised to meet his eyes with that same teasing look. ‘Good to see that you’re so confident in your skills and who you are,’ he quietly says. ‘I like it.’

‘Have to admit, you have helped me quite a lot with that throughout the time I have been working for you and the band,’ I now smile, with a little blush on my cheeks as well.

‘Now that’s good to hear, little mouse,’ he chuckles quietly at my words as he still has his hips pressed against mine, his goddamn smirk of course widening again as he sees the blush on my cheeks. He gently caresses his thumb over my chin in a slow and gentle gesture, letting his eyes trail over me for a moment as it seems like he thinks about what he’s about to say next.

‘You know you’re not only a damn good makeup artist,’ I then hear him quietly murmur to himself, and I grin widely.

‘Oh? What else am I then?'

Noah’s eyes flicker down to my lips for a moment before lifting them to meet mine again. ‘Let's just say…’ he quietly starts, moving his face down until his lips are mere inches apart from mine. ‘you’d be way more than just a girlfriend.’

‘Girlfriend? Don’t you have to take me on a nice date first, hm?’ I tease him, tucking a strand of hair behind both his ears, while I can feel my heartbeat quicken in my own.

‘Well then…’ he murmurs with a smirk as his eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips, his voice being all low and deep of a sudden, the sound of his voice like it is now almost causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin at how sexy he sounds in this moment. ‘I guess you’ll have to start considering tonight already the first date then.’

My whole body is set on fire by his gaze and voice alone, and I swallow quietly, my eyes now also gazing over his lips. ‘Tonight? How are you gonna do that with your show and all?’

‘Leave that to me, baby,’ he mutters quietly, leaning down to close the gap between us again and start up another kiss. He presses his lips against mine once again, this time more passionately and with much more intent and desire in the kiss, as his other hand on my hip slowly travels up my waist to press his body fully up against mine.

My mouth slowly opens to let his tongue slip in, and we stand against the wall from the dressing room kissing each other with heath and lust for a minute, but I then gently push him off me again with a sigh.

‘Go focus on your show now, mhm?’ I say, stroking his jacket neat with my hands as his eyes trail over me. ‘You got this. You’re gonna give them a night they won’t remember.’ And I then add with a corny smirk: ‘Cause you’re just so good at that.’

‘Damn, you’re right,’ he murmurs, his eyes now looking down at me with a mixture of desire and I guess I also see a little admiration.

I chuckle and then gently move him away so I can grab my phone to check the time. The show now starts in less than 20 minutes, and I know he has to leave any moment now to get behind the stage already. I then open my instagram app to post the pictures I took of the venue, and I smile broadly when Noah stands behind me again to tick on the picture of us together on my screen for the last photo slide, mumbling into my ear: ‘Can’t forget that one.’

‘You have to go backstage to get ready any minute now,’ I say when I turn around to face him again, and it looks like my voice snaps him out of a deep thought, making him blink a little.

‘Yeah, yeah I have to get ready, right…’ Noah says, almost sounding a little disappointed out of a sudden, his eyebrows furrowed deep in thought again.

‘Whatsup?’

He looks slightly surprised all of a sudden, as if he didn’t expect me to notice the sudden change of his mood-but I know him long enough now for that. He lets out a short chuckle, shaking his head in a dismissive way.

‘Oh, it’s nothing really… just the nerves of having the whole venue staring right at me in a few minutes,’ he says with another, but slightly more nervous sounding chuckle and a sigh right after, trying to act as nonchalant as he can.

I nod. ‘I get that. That’s… very nerve racking indeed. But, all the people that are in the crowd tonight absolutely adore you and the band-you have nothing to worry about. You nail every show,’ I assure him, squeezing his hand.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Noah whispers, the sound of it making it clear that he knows how loved the band is and how well they perform. He gently squeezes my hand, while watching my eyes with a now almost pleadingly look on his face. ‘And that’s why I want to be sure we put on the best show ever tonight. For the fans. For us. And for…’

His last words are almost being whispered, as if he is scared to finish his sentence. ‘...For you.’

My heart melts when he says that, a soft and warm smile spreading on my face as I caress his cheek softly and slowly. ‘You’re so sweet, Noah. But you can’t disappoint me, I’m always proud of you.’

Noah’s mind seems to go completely still as I give him my gentle and sweet gesture, and I hope he can feel how much I care about him through it. He quietly sighs once more, closing his eyes while he speaks.

‘You’re right. I shouldn’t worry this much at all… I got this.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ I wink, and after that a crewmember comes up to us, calling Noah to go backstage. Another smile already grows on his lips and I am thankful that he smiles again, and his shoulders seem a lot less tense now than before.

‘Alright then, baby. See you in a bit,’ he says while shooting me one last smile and quick wink before walking away to follow the crewmember. My heart fills with warmth, pride and happiness as he does so. God… my feelings for him only grow bigger by the moment, I fear.

I am allowed to stand by the side of the stage again along with some other crew members, to watch the show. As it is about to start, I can hear the crowd go absolutely nuts. The lights start to dim slowly, making way for the lights on stage to light up the darkness of the venue. I can faintly hear the members of the band mumble towards each other backstage, their voices getting swallowed up by the sound of the crowd cheering again as their intro starts playing on the screen. And as the intro ends and the band comes up on stage one by one, the crowd loses it again. I smile proudly and widely whilst taking it all in, it’s so insane and amazing to see it all. Bryan photographs a lot of the moment, and I take some pictures of it on my own phone as well, just to remember it and to capture the huge crowd being amazed by the band.

As soon as the first song starts up, it’s almost as if a switch is flicked in Noah and he completely forgets about anything else except for the show and his performance. Even his nerves from before seem completely forgotten, as he jumps right in with the music, his voice filing through the lyrics.

The show is amazing, and I love how the crowd welcomes the band with their enthusiastic energy and love, going crazy on the music. Sometimes I can’t help but laugh a little when the mosh pits turn absolutely insane and people really go nuts, but in a funny, energetic and wholesome way.

I have to admit, sometimes seeing Noah performing and him singing lyrics about being in love and intimate, even when it’s not even about me or us… still gets me feeling some type of way, getting flashes of our own intimate and romantic thoughts playing in my head. And whenever Noah’s eyes seem to gaze on me too, I can’t help but feel a little flustered as well.

The concert is an absolute success, and when I open my Twitter app to see if their concert is trending underneath a music topic by any chance, I smile proudly when they indeed are. But my smile is quickly replaced with a confusing frown when I see my own name being a trending topic as well, so out of curiosity, I click on it.

''Oh my god y’all, it happened, Hailey and Noah posted a picture together!'' a tweet says, and when I begin to scroll, it’s basically people talking about just that. Some are sweet and supportive, some are… well, let’s say not very nice. That makes me lock my phone again and concentrate on the concert again, trying to focus on the people being nice online and the band only.

After the last song is finished, an encore and a lot of applause and shouting of the fans, the band exit the stage again. I almost run towards Noah when I’m backstage again once I spot them, cheering when I see them looking proud and happy of themselves. ‘You guys were so amazing!’ I exclaim.

Noah smiles widely as he hears my voice in front of him. ‘Ah, we weren’t even good tonight,’ he jests, the words causing the others to laugh around him as he takes a step towards me.

‘But what matters is that you liked it. So that’s good enough for me,’ he then tells me, a wide amused smile on his face. I return a just as big smile, and shake my head while laughing.

‘Oh shut up, you all were amazing and you know it,’ I say while jokingly poking his side, and when the band members look at me and Noah with an happy yet adoring look, I blush a little.

‘Alright alright, whatever you say,’ he murmurs, his cheeks slightly flustered as he notices the other members’ expressions as well. He then sighs quietly, as if he knows what they’re thinking right now.

‘You guys, don’t start…’ he whispers quietly to the other members, causing them all to start laughing, some of them shooting him a smirk and wink.

‘Don’t worry mate, I packed my earplugs with me this time, I’ll probably be fine,’ Nick jokes, making Jolly snort and Nicholas roll with his eyes, but with still a hint of amusement on his face.

‘Jesus,’ I mumble under my breath, but I can’t help but laugh a little as well. Noah throws back his head and groans, causing the others to snort and chuckle again.

‘Man, screw you guys,’ Noah curses as the corner of his mouth curls up a little, the other band members still looking amused by their obvious remarks.

‘I think you should screw her instead,’ Nick now laughs out loud and I roll my eyes at him.

‘Nick, you really have no chill, do you?’ I say while my cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and Jolly just shakes his head while taking a sip of his water bottle as he chuckles.

‘Maybe you’ll complain less when you get a girl yourself,’ I remark at Nick after with a smirk, making Jolly spit out a little of his water as he laughs out loud. At both my remark and Jolly’s reaction to it Noah starts laughing wholeheartedly as well, the other band members now all chuckling and laughing at the little exchange.

‘Damn,’ Noah mutters quietly, shaking his head with laughter in amazement while looking at me, the little smirk on his face being an obvious sign to me that he appreciates my sharp and willy remarks at his friends.

‘Very funny,’ Nick mocks after my joke, but has a small smile on his face as well. ‘But alright, enough now-let’s get fucking wasted now, shall we?’ he then beams with a wide grin after.

‘Well that’s what I said! Let’s go,’ Noah agrees, now putting on his usual mischievous and playful smile as well, as he starts leading the way towards the area of the venue where everyone is going to get a drink to celebrate the success of the evening.

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