#pls reblog if u can to help spread the word!!

[kimdokjas]

wait wait, what’s the change tumblr did to the reblog chains ? 🥲🥲🥲 I’m so lost

okay so basically, let's say you see a post on your dash

before the update, if you clicked on a url, you could do 3 things:

view that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A)

view the previous reblog on the blog A reblogged it from (B)

view the original post on op's blog (C)

however, staff recently implemented an update where clicking on a url no longer takes you to that specific post. now, clicking on a url just takes you to the blog itself.

this means that you now get 5 things:

view ONLY that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A) -> changed location near header. also, you will now ONLY see that post and nothing else

view ONLY the original post on op's blog (C) -> changed location near header. you will only see that post and nothing else. and ONLY if the op hasn't deleted it, otherwise it just shows an error

view the blog of the person you follow (D)

view the blog of the person D reblogged it from (F) -> option B no longer exists

view the blog of the op (E)

you might be thinking: "cool! i get more options so that's good, right?" well, no.

there are SEVERAL things wrong with this and it goes beyond the prev tags issue

1) first of all, it's counterintuitive that A and C changed locations to the area near the header, especially if your userbase was already used to the previous functions. it just seems like horrible UX design to me but let's put that aside for now.

2) as you can see, option B which allowed you to see the previous reblog of a post no longer exists.

now, if you click on the previous url, you will just be taken to their entire blog. you can no longer view the post itself.

someone asked staff about this, and they replied in this post that the change was INTENTIONAL and if you want to view the previous reblog you would have to "go through the notes view".

to borrow what someone else said:

basically, this update just killed the prev tags culture in one fell swoop.

(sure, you can still use it to reply directly to the person you're reblogging from, but it's now literally useless to use "prev tags" for everyone else involved. sure, you can choose to copy tags or peer review them, but again, if people will have to copy them then the less people are likely to use them, and not every prev lends itself to peer-reviewing imo)

now, listen. i know not everyone likes the prev tags culture, but it just seems like such a poorly-thought decision to kill a culture that like... half of your entire userbase uses (see this poll as a quick reference) and that's UNIQUE to your site and sets you apart from other social media.

but it's also not even just prev tags. let's say you want to remove an annoying addition on a post's reblog chain? you can no longer do that.

however, i feel like this is the most important point:

regardless of how you may feel about the prev tags culture, the pure UI aspect of it should remain

what i mean by this is: even if you don't like prev tags, simply 1) being able to access the reblog chain, and 2) clicking on a post and actually have it take you to their BLOG (and not just a page with that one single post) is literally essential navigation.

this update threatens to drive down user engagement (which is already critically low) by making it harder to navigate. which is actually another point:

3) even if you click on A and C now to view those specific posts, it's NOT the same as it used to be.

before, you could view the reblog directly on the blog. so you could just scroll down and see the other posts leading up to it. now, you will be taken to a page where you will ONLY see that post and nothing else.

but also, you can no longer easily navigate other people's blogs.

you know how sometimes you would see like 50 notifications of someone going through an entire tag on your blog? that's going to happen a lot less, i'm afraid.

let's suppose you want to go to op's blog because they're an artist and you want to see more of their art. so you click on C and see that the tag they use for posts with their art is "#my art"

cool! before, you could just click on that tag and immediately view ALL of their art as long as the posts have that tag.

but now, if you click on that tag, it will take you to the ENTIRE tumblr tag with literally all the posts that everyone in the history of time has tagged with that specific tag.

now, to do the same thing that just took 2 clicks before, you would have to: click on C to view the post -> look for the tag you want to navigate -> click E to view their whole blog -> scroll and look for a post that just so happens to have that tag (the search function is literally useless) and hope to god that there's a recent one or you'll have to scroll for ages or simply give up -> if you happen to find it, click on that tag to navigate their posts.

you see how this is counterproductive, right? you see how this can literally drive down engagement with content creators, right?

if you make people's blogs harder to navigate, you will literally drive down the number of likes and reblogs on their posts, which have already been steadily declining for years now.

4) options D and E to view the blogs and not the posts are literally useless because you could already access other people's blogs before. you just had to click on their url to view their blogs starting from that specific post AND you could choose to just refresh it to view their newest posts.

either way, the change just seems completely unnecessary. and again, it's not just about the prev tags culture but about basic UI.

so what can we do about it?

i normally don't advocate for flooding staff with messages but i do feel like this is one of the worst updates staff has ever done (and that's saying something) and something needs to change.

even if they don't retcon the entire update, that's fine, but staff could at least add the option to view the reblog chain as a different feature (maybe even opt-in) for example. there are better ways to go about this than just axing an entire existing feature.

also, this same issue that makes it harder to navigate blogs needs to change. i feel like content creators will be especially affected by this unless this changes because you can no longer easily navigate their tags, so it will inevitably drive down engagement.

so please, contact staff and let them know we want a change.

you can contact support here!

here's a template for a possible message you could send, but feel free to edit it. (under category you can choose "Feedback")

Hi, I would like to politely request a change to the recent update that affects the reblog chain of posts. Regardless of the "prev tags" culture itself, the UI aspect of being able to view the reblog chain of a post is essential for navigation on this website. Even adding it as a separate, opt-in feature would be a huge help. Additionally, clicking on a post and then on one of the tags now takes you to the entire tumblr tag instead of the tag on that blog, which makes it harder to navigate blogs. Both of these issues have the potential to drive down user engagement by actively making it harder to navigate Tumblr, but especially for content creators. I hope you can do something to address these issues as soon as possible. Thanks in advance and have a nice day.

also, if you can and/or want, reblogs are appreciated to help spread the word!

that's pretty much the gist of the issue from what i've seen, but if anyone else has anything to add or a different way we could contact staff to make ourselves heard, please feel free to let me know!

TLDR: it's not just about prev tags, this update affects basic functionality and content creators as well

#pls reblog if u can to help spread the word!! #@anon this turned out a lot longer than i expected omg #i hope u don't mind me hijacking this ask to make a general informative post about this issue!! #ask #anonymous #tumblr #tumblr update #prev tags #signal boost #supportcontentcreators #evansyhelp #staff #long post for ts #196

[thatdeadaquarius]

Genshin Impact Sagau/Isekai:

You still have acces to characters! ...by possessing them. 👻

PART 2 (you're here!) / Part 1

All art by me! :] leave me a iced coffee?? :0

HEY!! REALLY QUICK PLEASE READ!

STOP tagging my posts as "Yandere Sagau", "Sagau Cult AU", "Sagau Imposter AU" or other related dark content tags.

I'm sick of seeing reblogs that tag my work as dark content, when I'm specifically trying to LIGHTEN UP THE SAGAU TAG 😭😭??

Please be more respectful of this. Actually read the work before you just tag it incorrectly. Tags do matter.

/nm /gen

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Misc. Genshin AUs

Orbit: Headcanons, Scenarios

Stars: Tighnari ft. Cyno, Alhaitham, Collei

Comets & Meteors:

Content Warnings: Mild violence (bandit attacks/non-graphic), Reader/you possess people non-consent (mild/consent given eventually)

& Trigger Warnings: Reader/"you" possess people non-consenually for short times, but given consent eventually.

(pls comment if any more!)

Edit 9/7/23: 1,000+ NOTES?? WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY- THANK YOU???

Edit 12/24/23 + 4/5/24:

☆

My goofy ass forgot to put this here .-.

Anyway this is a full length fanfic now ;)

…mistakes were made.

bad decisions were had, and okay, mayyybbbeee you could’ve taken more precautions against people finding out you were “real”.

afterall, you did see the Eremites reaction, even if it was only two guys (one from each camp) that you possessed :/

word spreads quickly amongst the Eremites groups, you guess, bc next thing you knew, after you’d moved closer to floating around Gandharva Ville,

they’d called that entire bit of forest haunted.

BUT IN YOUR DEFENSE-!! how were you supposed to know they’d blab to the whole camp they didn’t remember the past 20 minutes after you unpossessed them?? and immediately be on guard and jump to possession?? (Irminsul works hard but eremites/sumeru people work harder u guess)

And by the time you were happily patrolling with Collei, the forest rangers were just so chill you didn’t really expect anybody would think a ghost was possessing them (or whatever you were now… maybe,, just code?? it’s unclear)

so when u start to see Tighnari squint at people who’ve technically just “woken up” after you possessed them, mumbling under his breath more and more as a file he carries around gets thicker and thicker-

you start to think,,, maybe.

okay, mayyybbbeee,

you’ve fucked up.

◇

You really can’t help it, first it was making sure Collei got back safely from patrols (she’s ur skrunkly okay, you can’t help it, you’re still aware she’s capable but- the urge to skrunkle overpowers you- )

but then-!! You managed to spot Cyno! :D its ur boy!! ur little meow meow, who can throw people over his shoulder!! He really doesn’t need you, hovering around, but eh ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

what could it hurt! …it’s not like he can see, hear, or feel you anyway…

(unless u possess some animal/machine he thinks is friendly, which. sumeru is not exactly known for cuddly creatures. you don’t feel like experiencing death when possessing stuff just yet-)

imagine ur panic and shock as the General Mahamatra takes on a camp of criminals on the run, only for one of the old ruin machines (the ones that are just LEG and DEATH)

to hear the ruckus and come stomping around a thick patch of trees, it launched missiles!! You can’t warn Cyno, he can’t hear you!! No one can!!! The criminals are unconscious, there’s no other wildlife nearby they all ran off!!! FUCK-

You look at him and try to imagine his perspective as vividly as you can, he’s looking over the criminals, but now he’s turning, so people passed out and the tree-line got it-

Congratulations! You’ve possessed Cyno. 💀

It completely disorients you for a second, but then the panic of dodging the missiles comes back in time for you to make his body dive and roll off to the side, for as long as you can manage a roll too since you remember that’s the best way to dodge missiles in the game

…which works really well! bc he’s so fit and agile tbh

It was weird to finally run again after so long (two months now in teyvat?? wow)

with your feet suddenly in sandals, and feeling the breeze chilling your bare chest (Cyno’s chest??)

yeah its a shock considering most of the ppl you’ve possessed lately have been fully clothed rangers lol

you quickly imagine your ghostly form again, and just like that you’re drifting out of Cyno in ur “ghosty” form, having floated out and away from his back

Poor guy looks so fucking confused, and immediately is wielding his spear again, and is about to get out the crouch you put him in behind the dilapidated stone wall (dammit he better not waste ur efforts to keep him alive-)

until missiles slam and explode against it, he ducks back down (thank fuck) and Cyno just looks around one last time before hopping the wall and running to fight the thing

you notice that when the electro user goes to use his powers, they seem stronger than they were in his fight with the goons??

Maybe he was just going easier on them, since they are only human?

…so why does even Cyno look surprised when he goes to make a simple swipe with his charged spear and a bolt of lightning cracks out from his spear instead…?

…weird.

◇

Tighnari knows you’re here.

You figure he must have collected the reports of people “blacking out” or “sleep-walking” or whatever else and begun to suspect the worst.

…to be honest, you’re not sure what to do.

on one hand, it would be great to have someone know you actually exist, as yourself,

but on the other…

What would Tighnari think?

Of you possessing his rangers?? Temporarily taking ownership of someone without permission??? You’re afraid he’d think the worst of you…

tho u didn’t do so often, as u realized how messed up this could be, and u never did more than make them walk or talk normally for a few minutes before leaving them alone!

… afterall, you missed interacting with people. You were honestly a little worried abt going crazy, which is the only reason u were desperate enough to possess human people in the first place and continue doing so, just to talk to someone and have them look you in the face again like you really did exist as a person here-

(u thought u remember reading somewhere back on Earth that someone can only last 3 days of no other human contact until they start to lose it? but even if that’s not true, at the very least, u dont think talking one-sidedly to yourself all the time is healthy…)

so when Tighnari seems to get that file you’ve seen him adding onto, and gather up supplies, mentioning a day trip to Collei and the others to Sumeru City for some

“further research into these ‘blackouts’, and also contacting some of my colleagues who might know something…”

there’s no way you’re not going with him.

you feel increasingly anxious all day, and at one point when you were sure Tighnari was walled-in by books at the House of Daena, decide to go blow off the anxious energy by possessing an animal to get some food!

…you’re not really feeling comfortable enough to possess a living being into eating yet, that seems hella nonconsensual, and u kinda would be taking the joy of the meal from them tbh-

so u possess a cat!

a ginger cat, bc u like to think if u do anything weird, that ppl in Teyvat have the same type of cats back on Earth and excuse it as just:

“unhinged ginger cats being unhinged ginger cats yep makes sense” lol

you’d managed to be really cute (and wasn’t that weird, having to mimic animal behaviors like rubbing ur side against a person’s legs..)

and convince one of the cooks of Lambad’s Tavern to give u some leftovers, and been about to go off to try out sunbathing before the chore boy, little shit he is, tried to chase you off with a broom!! >:( the audacity!! you clearly have a little plate and everything!!

luckily, you’d finished eating, but still! Ouch!! those bristles fucking hurt-!!!

…you look and see a Sumeru-ified version of a skateboard, and u just know ur little cat face is just ✨v✨

and u steal the little shit’s skateboard as revenge! HAHA thats what you get animal abuser!!!

The kid’s yelling at you as you speedily skate away with ur little cat paws (LMAOO), but the cooks are calling him back in so he can’t pursue, (oh good u hear them get onto him for chasing u off)

and as u slow down to coast along the Sumeru streets,

you feel someone’s eyes staring you down.

You assume it’s just people being amused at a cat skateboarding, obv

but when you look just ahead of you to see a smiling Sumeru citizen or eremite-

Oh. It’s Alhaitham.

and he’s just… watching you.

he’s stopped reading whatever he’s got in his hand, and is slowlyyyy turning his head as you pass by…

You decide to just keep skating away. LMAO

◇

it’s already sunset by the you’re accompanying Tighnari back from Sumeru City, floating along behind him

and you’d been expecting a calm walk back, tbh you’d been feeling a little better bc the ranger hadn’t found much to identify you, yet, luckily-

but bc u can never catch a break:

Tighnari didn’t see the bandits dropping from the goddamn trees BEHIND HIM- and they had like claymores out- those were definitely gonna be killing blows-!!

so yeah.

You possessed Tighnari.

turns out ur pretty good at dodging bc this is second time now you’ve helped dive away for someone in an ambush, ur kinda proud of urself tbh💀

and as you make him take a few leaps back, ur ears twitch in the wind as you duck behind a tree, then float away and out of his body

The poor hybrid ranger visibly sways, then shakes his head out of it, and he flicks his ears in different directions, squinting into the woods, he’s pulled out his bow, so you’re at least reassured he’s aware there are enemies

Like Cyno last week, he too gives up and rolls for the next tree for cover and begins to shoot and take down the bandits

the rest of the week is kinda a blur after that, bc it’s mostly filled with Tighnari running in circles around the camp checking for blackouts, writing letters to Alhaitham and Cyno apparently, and you not possessing anybody out of paranoia :/

Most notably however,

you’ve unfortunately discovered one of the few drawbacks of ur possessions

(y’know, besides not existing essentially, what with no one being able to sense u outside of possessions)

apparently, if someone walks thru you, they accidentally force you to possess them 💀??

while it’d already happened once with a random ranger that you didnt notice was walking up behind you,

you didn’t want to test it again just yet bc it kinda made YOU nauseous and incredibly dizzy when this happened

(as in, u stumbled like a drunk after this poor ranger woman ran thru u, until you were so dizzy and the world spun sm u had to make her sit on the literal ground, luckily she just thought she was just really dehydrated when she came back into herself 😭)

so obviously, you’ve avoided crowds to keep this forced possession thingy from happening all the time

like at the Forest Rangers meetings or something, ur watching off to the side, instead of standing with them or beside them

so needless to say, after about a week and half since possessing Tighnari,

you definitely did not mean to possess Collei.

She’d been in her wheelchair today, the Eleazar flaring up and tiring her body out

so her wheels had been entirely silent when she rolled up to where you and Tighnari were leaning over some strange experiments of his- you were just trying to figure out what all these mirrors were for, didn’t he do plants more-?

you didn’t even know what the hell happened, you just felt that familiar dropping sensation, like a small drop on a rollarcoaster, blinked, and then suddenly you were sitting instead of standing/floating???

Oh god-

before you could even begin to process that Tighnari was in front of you instead of beside you, the world was shorter,

The fox-eared ranger yelled in triumph, grinning with sharp fangs and spinning around to look at you (Collei)-

“Ah-ha! It worked! Finally, I saw you! I saw you, I-?? Oh gods, Collei, NO-!”

And with quick reflexes, Tighnari’s summoned his bow, but he’s clearly confused on what to do about this situation, taking aim, but also holding the air glowing with dendro not as taunt as you’d seen him in the battle with the bandits

You scramble to raise your hands up, brown poofy sleeves rise to your command, light green hair you can feel on your shoulders, everything is familiar, but not-

“WAIT! I’m sorry!! This was an accident, I promise! I don’t intend to hurt Collei, or you!! Please, just, don’t shoot me, I think you’ll just hurt Collei instead…”

You talk him down and decide, that if he’s put this much effort into finding out about your existence, is an incredible leader and friend to everyone around him, and was able to accept the traveler and many other strange things that’ve (probably? maybe?) already happened in Sumeru (god fuck u dont even know where in the timeline you are)

that you can probably trust Tighnari with your existence, and your powers.

…He nearly passes out.

◇

Life has gotten a lot funnier, and happier, since you told Tighnari (and some of the more trustworthy rangers and Collei by proxy) about ur existence (or really, confirmed it)

He’d been wary at first, appropiately cautious and demanding answers, of which you were happy to give and explain yourself

luckily, after a whole lot of “hmm, I see, no, I think I’m understanding-” , finger on his chin and everything

he’s said it’s okay to hang around the rangers, so long as you don’t possess anyone anymore without them knowing about you/with permission (outside of emergency situations that is)

tho he did seem surprisingly understanding and accepting of you doing it before after you explained how u were just unbelievably lonely and were lowkey paranoid of going crazy-

The rangers seem to believe you’re some kind of god/spirit thing, as you had no explanation yourself as to what you were ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Tighnari’s also given you the rule to help out around here if you’re going to “ghost-laze around”, as he puts it lol

you’ve redirected ruin machines/feral animals away from rangers many times by now, to the many thanks and gratefulness of the rangers

you’ve even managed to even figure out how to push Collei’s wheelchair around when she uses it!

mostly by possessing tree after tree and using vines, or occasionally a fungi that can fly so you can nudge her along

she has insisted that you possess a ruin guard and carry her just to try it… however, Tighnari overheard her talking to the forest rangers’ dog (you) and immediately knew shit was up and banned you from doing it (at least not yet)

While most rangers are okay with you possessing them for a few minutes (and they’ve developed this bandana wrapped around their upper arms policy of “red = no possess, green = go ahead”)

Collei is the most okay with it and for longer, so you “won’t be that lonely ever again!” :’)

Tighnari is busy with stuff, so you can’t possess him as often, but the ranger has developed a theory that the more you possess someone, the more they can sense your feelings during possession/while floating around in ghost form too,

so he’ll occasionally feel you in the room with him, and start talking out loud in some one-sided convo to make you feel more included to make up for not being able to interact with him sometimes :)

(after taking you off his list of worries he’s still pretty swamped, not that he’ll tell you that, as he’s still not quite sure why he’s so, warm and safe feeling when you’re around, so willing to trust you so naturally, that it makes him want to at leats pretend to be worried abt a possessing ghost god/thing hanging out with the rangers now)

◇

basically everything is great!

the rangers are okay with you, they got a system to interact with you consensually, Tighnari and Collei are fond of you, you get to finally have something to do instead of floating around all the time (joining ranger missions)

and look!! they’ve even been kind enough to build you a little shrine or altar of sorts! Notes about Sumeru life, recipes for you to try, occasionally some books for you to read, and even some snacks/desserts for you to try out the next time someone possesses you and gives consent! (you leave them a little note stuck on their hand with your question for specific actions like that, if there isn’t another ranger there to ask for you when you unpossess them)

and everything is so cool, and everyone is so sweet and accepting

…Until Alhaitham shows up in Gandharva Ville, knocking on Tighnari’s door.

☆

AHHHH idk if this is any good! sorry it took so long, it was mostly the art 😭😭

anyway its not the best (the writing or the art) but i hope it’s at least some content to look at and be entertained for a minute!

also figured it was a good day to post what with the attack on our beloved Ao3 (tho i think it’s back up now?)

anyway, feel free to leave critiques on this one! (which I’ll probably turn this into a real fic one day soon, but not sure what to do with the plot/do a diff setup than this or what)

☆

sorry abt the radio silence! I just needed to close my mailbox bc i had a lot of stuff to answer, ur welcome to send submissions to chat/non-requests!

and also this took time to make (once again, mostly the art, bc thats how it always is with art isnt it 😭)

☆

Safe Travels Stranger,

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @justlostintheinternet   / @assassinsnake101 /@sun-wokung

If ur tag is here and didnt work, idk why!

Maybe see if your listed as a "searchable blog"?

#srry i took long to post #its bc i was working on this #and this meant both writing and art 💀 #MORE IMPORTANTLY #STOP TAGGING MY STUFF AS YANDERE/DARK #LIKE NOW U GOT ME WORRIED OUT HERE #on one hand #what tf do u see as dark?? #on the other... AM I UNINTENTIONALLY WRITING DARK CONTENT-?!!?!! #anyway love u guys and thanks for the patience #lol this was originally for 100 followers celeb if that matters to anyone #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact self aware #genshin self insert #genshin impact possession au #genshin possession au #sagau possession au #sagau x reader

[ackermonie]

like a hot dad

content: nsfw, long haired levi, breeding kink, daddy/mommy kink if u squint, dilf levi, post war canon

warnings: +18 content, mild manga spoilers, f!bodied reader.

wc: 1.5k~

tags: @motherfckerrr bc they commented ehe

a/n: i genuinely had no idea where this was going i just kept writing and somehow ended up with being h word for dilf long haired levi and idk how to take it back tysm

also pls reblog if u can!! i’m tryna gain back my old followers from my previous blog due to shadowban, so spreading the word could def help!! tysm either way<3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

do you think levi would grow his hair out post-war?

idk mahn but the vision of him with a short wolf-ish is really getting to me.

i feel like maybe he’d let it grow accidentally. with the healing process for his knee and the rest of his wounds i feel like he wouldn’t really care about his hair, and you’re totally in for it.

it’s a huge change. for years, you’re used to levi’s neat hair and infamous undercut, and you were 100% into it. but now as he finally lets you cut his hair for him instead of doing it himself, you kinda slowly fix it in a wolf cut and let it grow gradually.

you’d come up with excuses every time he asks you to cut his hair.

“i have so much to do around the house today, my love. maybe tomorrow?”

“oh, i’m on my period today. i can barely stand up.”

“oh! i forgot i have to go get stuff from the market! i’ll be meeting gabi and falco, i can’t be late, can i?”

once he gets frustrated with you, the raven silk was already down to his nape. it shaped his face beautifully, and once you caught him with a pair of scissors in the bathroom, your soul left your body.

“WAIT!” you dash to him, holding down the armed left hand. “you’re not left handed! you wanna ruin your hair??”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes at you. “you’ve been putting me off for months. look how long it’s gotten!” he gestures with a hand to the mirror in front of you two. “i look hideous.”

you slip the scissors from his hands, and levi catches the little sly smile that slips on your face as you squeeze yourself between his body and the sink.

you watch the realization fall on his face while your hands slip in his hair.

“is this what i get for letting my guard down around you?”

“you look beautiful,” you tell him, love struck as you are, never missing the pink dust that rushes to his cheeks “everyone compliments you for it. you still wanna cut it off again?”

“i don’t give a shit about anyone else.” he grumbles and looks down between you both, leaning on his cane. “i don’t look representable.”

“you don’t have to look representable,” your tone lowers in sincerity. a thumb grazes the scar on the right side of his face. “you’re not a captain anymore, my love. you’re free to do whatever your heart pleases.”

he looks up at you, features blank, but you know well how your words are tossing and turning in his brain.

“besides,” your smile returns back to your face, and you pull him a little closer. “you look extremely hot.” a hand trails down to the hem of his shirt, your eyes following the movement, then you return your gaze back up to him. “like a hot dad.”

his eyebrows shoot up, playfulness making an appearance on the previous stoic features. “like a hot dad?”

“mmhm,” you affirm with a mock-nonchalant nod, and you slip away from him jjjuuust when he was about to pull you in. you look at him over your shoulder, mischief pure in your gaze. “i’ll go check on dinner for the guests coming tonight. feel free to join.”

only except that ten minutes later, the kitchen is completely empty and you two didn’t manage to make it past the living room. he was seated on the sofa, head throw back with his fucking hair framing his delicious expression like that, you swear you could cum untouched in your position between his legs as you get to work.

“like a hot dad, huh?” he mumbles, all breathless and shit once you were seated in his lap, his length stretching you perfectly. a hand reaches up to wipe away the remaining of his previous climax on the corner of your lips. you throw your head in the crook of his neck, the pleasure of your hips rolling skillfully against his hitting you bad. “you could’ve just asked, lovely. wanna make me a daddy?”

you manage a shaky nod when he begins to meet your hips halfway.

a hand trails up from your waist to garb your neck, squeezing deliciously as he pulls you away from his neck to take a good look at you. “words, my love.”

“yes,” you nod, eyes closed in bliss. one of your hands grab the wrist of the hand around your neck. “wan’ make y-you a…hhah… daddy.”

“fffuuck…” he groans out when you squeeze around him, letting himself gather enough strength before he throws you off of him and onto the sofa. when your thighs are squeezed together at the painful loss of contact, a palm falls on one of them, leaving a flushed mark in its wake.

“open wide, baby.” he grabs a hold of his cock while he holds the back of your opening thigh to keep the pair apart. the years upon years in the survey corps leave you as flexible as you can be, so when he presses your thigh back, your joints bend easily at his will. pumping himself a few times as he gazes at your glistening folds, another groan breaks out from deep in his chest.

“god, look at you.” he rolls his hips in, and you feel him slip through so pleasurably that you can’t hold back the loud whimper that escapes you.

because damn, how could you not from this view? this is a face of a determined, pussy-drunk man. sweat broke on his forehead, a few strands sticking to the skin while the rest of his hair falls around his face perfectly. you see a ting of pain on his features, and you scatter to try to change your position for a more comfortable one for him, but he is quickly pushing you back down to the couch, a hand falling to your lower abdomen.

the pressure he puts there makes you forget your own name, and it shows on the way your body shivers with bliss. his thrusts increase in velocity, the maddening roll of his hips against yours throwing you in a whole other dimension.

a hand reaches out to grab yours, and through the dizzying pleasure, you realize that levi is pressing your own hand to your abdomen underneath his.

“look how deep inside am i,” he grumbles, leaning down to press a kiss on your bouncing tits. you feel his length stroke in and out of you the more levi puts pressure on your hand. “taking me so well. always so well, baby.”

he takes control of your hand once more, feeling you squeeze familiarly around him, and he pushes your fingers through his hair. you yank on the strands immediately, pulling out a fucking growl out of the man as he leans down until your chests were touching, putting a bit of his body weight on you for support.

you latch onto him like a koala, the burn of your core muscles stretching as he pushes you in a mating press mixes well with your pleasure-high brain. levi kisses, licks, bites down on your neck to leave marks you’ll have trouble hiding later, but you don’t give a shit. you arch your neck more, letting out a long moan when he nips at a certain spot, the bliss turning you mad.

levi is breathless. his puffs of air fan your face when he brings his face on top of yours. a whimper escapes past his lips, his features twisted with pleasure uncontrollably, and you drown in the sounds he makes.

“wann’ make you a mommy too,” he mumbles, open lips landing on the corner of your lips. “wanna…hhah… fill you up. over,” he pauses, delivering an especially harsh thrust that you feel at your cervix. “and over again.”

“levi, i’m so—,”

your body begins to curl into him, eyes closing uncontrollably, and the poor man barely has any chance to ready himself for the way you tighten impossibly around him as you give him your first climax.

your body shivers and quivers, shaking as he overstimulates you chasing after his own pleasure. he leans back up, hands harshly grabbing your lips as he manages to pull you even deeper, and you tightness milk him.

it isn’t the first time he cums inside you, but this one sure hits different. after a few more thrusts that manage to abuse your cervix, levi stills stiffly with a strong groan, and you feel his warmth coat your walls .

he gives you a few more deep strokes as he leans down to kiss you deeply, making sure he fucks all his load deep enough.

his hips still once more, but you keep devouring his lips. weak moans are erupted from both of you as you two calm down gradually, before levi throws sway your attempts of calming down your still-raging arousal when he pulls away, leans up, and slowly pulls out of you.

and he watches the mixture of both your orgasams begin to pool out of you, and you watch as he takes two fingers to push everything back in. you shamelessly roll your hips against bis digits once more.

he looks up at you, fingers still engulfed, snd a smirk takes over his handsome features.

“one more time for good measures?”

#ackermonie writes #tw smut #levi ackerman #levi smut #aot x reader #aot smut #snk smut #snk manga #snk levi #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi x reader #post war levi #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #aot lemon #attack on titan smut #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

[cherievol6]

not waiting around - pt II

read part I

AND BREATHE. this is my fourth draft of this. FOURTH. i changed it so so so many times, but i hope you're happy with it, because i'm pretty happy with it. can you tell which song i used for inspo? pls pls pls like/reblog, i work so hard on my stuff. . .love u all so much - M

also little banner for visuals...

engagements bring out the softie in harry, and time apart most definitely does make the heart grow fonder

word count: 3.3k (slay)

warnings: swearing!!! (they're british, it's a given), fluff fluff fluff i love them sm, there may be some cringey parts, not sorry x

.

“You’re such a blunt texter.” Harry laughs as he enters your bedroom, eyes finding your head poking out of the swirls of white covers. He drops his overnight bag on to the vintage chair in the corner of the room and braces his arms over your head.

You frown up at him and his smile grows wider. “I’m not.”

“You never put kisses on your texts anymore.” He notes, leaning down to peck the corner of your mouth. You feel your stomach flip at this; how did he notice something so little in the change of your behaviour? You were trying to shake the petty feelings you had by treating him as you would any random hook-up, but he made it very difficult.

“I sometimes draft them, but you never put them back, so I delete them.” Your voice is almost embarrassed as you say it. Harry frowns, tilting his head. You watch as his hair falls with him.

“Don’t delete the kisses,” he mumbles, gently kissing your mouth and mumbling against your lips, “they’re cute.”

The memory from months ago flashes through your head as you stare down at the drafted text message on your phone, the line flashing next to the words ‘we should talk later’. Harry’s number is still saved into your phone, a small picture of him wearing your scrunchie and a pink mask spread around his face sits above his name, squeezing your heart painfully.

“Shit.” You sigh, deleting the four words and locking your phone, placing it down on the table and glancing up at Sarah showing off her ring to some of your mutual friends, hers and Mitch’s eyes sparkling akin to the small diamond on her finger. It was depressing, really, observing all of your friends around you settling down and getting engaged, whilst you were still emotionally getting over a casual fling. It didn’t help that you had perfect view of Harry’s back as he sat and talked to Sarah’s parents merely a stone’s throw away. You sometimes caught snippets of his laugh, or mumblings of a joke that made Sarah’s father cackle loudly.

His eyes had followed you when you arrived, passing Sarah and Mitch an expensive bottle of wine, hands nervously brushing down your powder blue dress. You had finally met Harry’s eyes as they fawned over the present, him barely lifting the corner of his mouth before turning and walking into the garden, downing the glass of prosecco in his hand. When Sarah gave you a sad smile as you turned back, you knew immediately that Harry had told Mitch everything, and he’d most likely filled the gaps for his fiancée.

It was safe to say after that small encounter you scurried to the other side of the garden and planted yourself at a small table that was furthest from the mingling crowd. This was the last place you wanted to be.

The sun set beautifully over Sarah’s Hampstead home and an old record crooned through the speakers at the patio doors. It was springtime now, the cold memory of when you left Harry’s house in January still sitting bitterly in your chest. Since that moment, you both had only shared fleeting glances on group nights out, or stiffly interacting when you were round at Sarah’s for game night. It was torture not being able to share illicit kisses in the foyer like you used to, Harry usually tugging your arm and pressing you against the wall, “to tide me over until later” he would say, a searing kiss punctuating it before he slunk back off to the living room. What once was thrilling had now turned sour and dormant.

Sarah came and checked on you after many photos, and you could tell her socially awkward side was starting to rear its head as more family members tried to shove their cameras in her face.

“Wanna get a drink?” You laugh, and she nods enthusiastically, blowing her bangs out of her face and grabbing your hand. She pours you both a wine once you’re away from the crowds, the music turning to a mere humming that lulled your anxiety. Parties weren’t usually your thing, and Harry’s presence normally helped. This time, however, it was making it slightly worse. You catch Sarah clinking her ring against her glass and you grin.

“I’m so happy for you, Sar.” A hand squeezes her shoulder, and she thanks you, laying her palm on top of yours gently. You stand in silence together and sip your drinks, both needing the breather from the intense atmosphere.

“So, when are you and H going to make up, and stop moping around at my party?” She quips. Your drink slips down an awkward part of your throat that makes you splutter; you fan your watery eyes until your coughing subsides.

“God, Sarah.” You sigh.

“Hey! I don’t know what happened,” you shoot her a pointed look, “but I can tell that you’re both sad. Harry’s been writing more than ever, too.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You ignore the strange feeling you get at the thought of being Harry’s subject of his songs. Of his sad songs, at that. You rest your free hand against your sternum to calm your heartbeat.

“He’s been a right grump these past few weeks. Some of his sessions with Mitch have ended up going on through the night, I’m a bit worried about him.”

Your eyes sting and Sarah’s voice softens. “I’ve been worried about you, too.”

“I’m fine. He told me in our last conversation that he thinks he still loves his ex, so…s’probably who he’s writing about.” You shrug, and Sarah frowns.

“Harry hasn’t seen her in ages, Y/N—” Her voice dims as a familiar pair of boots click into the kitchen. You clear your throat and turn the other way, pretending to busy yourself with pouring more wine.

“Oh, hey. We were just…getting a drink.” Sarah’s sheepish voice gives you both away immediately, though you’re pretty sure Harry heard the last few sentences of your conversation.

The air is stagnant and uncomfortable before Harry lets out a loaded huff. You can feel his stare like pin pricks all over your back.

“I haven’t seen her since that night, Y/N.” He says stiffly, completely ignoring Sarah. Your hands tremble as you place the wine bottle down and turn around slowly, glancing at Harry’s face. You expect to see a stony expression, but his eyes are softened and sad-looking, his mouth turned down. Sarah rubs your shoulder and slinks out of the kitchen, a gentle hand on Harry’s back conveying the same message.

“I-“ Your voice is weak. You try to say something, anything, but the words die in your throat. You look down at your feet and then back to Harry’s face. God, Sarah was right. His under eyes are deep grey from lack of sleep. You begin to well up. It was all too much, properly speaking to Harry for the first time in weeks, seeing him looking all sorry for himself, hearing that he was writing about you.

“Oh, Y/N.” He sighs regretfully, running a hand through his longer hair. Sounds of kids squealing in the back garden make him on edge, you can tell with the way he begins cracking his knuckles against his thigh.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is thick from the tears.

“No, no. I don’t wanna hear any of that.” He shakes his head, moving closer and placing his wine glass down next to yours. He looks down at you but doesn’t make a move to touch you in any way. It makes more tears fall.

“Harry, why haven’t you been sleeping?” You whisper to him sadly, your hand unconsciously resting on his wrist. All you can think about is what Sarah said about his emotional state since that day, was he really that hung up about it?

He swallows and looks down at your touch, eyebrows furrowing.

“Felt lonely without you there.” He shrugs, itching the tip of his nose as his eyes begin to sting and redden. You sigh and slip your hand into his before he can object. Noise clatters from somewhere in the house followed by a string of conversation and you come back down to earth quickly.

“If we’re gonna talk, we need to do it privately.” You squeeze his hand and he nods, squeezing it back before leading you out of the kitchen, his tall frame hiding your bleary eyes as he guides you to the familiar entryway to the house. Sarah’s foyer to her front door is closed off from the rest of the house, giving you both a semblance of privacy.

“Why here?” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself at the draft. He almost looks hurt at your question.

“Dunno. Was kind of our place, no?.” He’s clipped with his tone, but it juxtaposes his actions as he slips his expensive cardigan off his shoulders and drapes it over your shoulders. You watch his face closely as he fits it over your body, having no choice with the small space you had to stand in. You mull over the use of ‘our’ in his reply.

“Harry.” You mumble. He hums.

“I’m sorry for storming out.” It just comes out of you, not feeling like tiptoeing around the subject any longer. He freezes and bites the inside of his cheek.

“I deserved it. Stop apologising, alrigh’? S’me that should be doing it first.” His hands stay perched on your shoulders gently, warming every cell and sensory in your body.

“I’m sorry if it seemed like I was leading you on, or anything,” one of his hands lifts to brush your hair away from your face, “truthfully, I was trying myself to hide my own feelings. I was scared that I was the one who’d fallen first, Y/N.” Your heart starts to thud a bit harder in your chest

“So why did you react so badly, when I first told you that night I was drunk?” Your tears have dried up now and your tone is slightly hostile. He was always just so…fucking confusing.

“I got scared. I don’t know, like you were just saying it because you were drunk, and you didn’t actually mean it.” He says nervously. You’d never considered that to be the reason for his apprehensiveness, although it didn’t sound like the strongest argument for how he’d reacted.

“God, Harry. It really upset me, you know?” He nods profusely and holds the guiltiest look on his face, eyes glancing down at your lips before travelling up your face. Your eyes hang on his lips too, wanting that intimacy you hadn’t felt from him in so long. At this point, you weren’t sure if you were even upset anymore, this hurt had dragged on for so long that you were just yearning for some semblance of normality with him.

“I know, I know. I regretted it when you came to my house with all my stuff that day. I could tell that you were really hurt. I-I guess I spat out my feelings to you so you wouldn’t leave. It really fucking hurt watching you walk back down the driveway, too. And I can’t wear that teddy bear ring anymore…” He’s rambling at this point and you place your hands on his jaw to slow him down.

The air feels dense around the two of you, and it seems you’re both waiting for the right time to act on what you’re feeling. He missed you, you missed him. Would it be so bad?

“Harry.” You breathe. He calms down, eyes searching yours before he surges forward and fits your mouths together for what feels like the first time in eternity, seemingly reading your mind and beating you to the punch. He breathes harshly through his nose at the contact, humming contently against your mouth as he lulls you through a long and needy kiss, tilting your head back on your neck for easier access. His fingers are delicate, stroking your cheek, your jaw, your hair.

“I don’t even care about her. Not one bit.” He heaves out in between kisses, and you whimper, locking your arms tightly around his neck. You break from the kiss and he kisses your cheekbones, rubbing his nose against yours as you catch your breath.

“You’re so confusing. Really make my head spin, y’know?” Your eyes close as his hands travel to grip your waist tightly.

“I know. You don’t need to be confused now, yeah? M’right here.” He’s on your neck now, kissing soft trails from your ear to your collar bone. His head finally rests in your neck however, not seeming to initiate anything you thought he would. All you can feel is the rhythmic breaths coming from his lips that spread over your collarbones.

“Harry?” Your voice is soft but airy, still out of breath from the intense kiss you just shared.

“I’ve really missed how you smell, y’know? So sweet.”

“Okay, vampire.” You laugh. He lifts his head with amused yet bleary eyes meeting yours, muttering a ‘shut up’ at your teasing. Truthfully, you knew exactly what he meant. You’d missed the smell of his aftershave lingering around your place, his washing powder on your sheets. You just missed him.

“I miss you leaving little things around my house. Found your lilac bra the other day, y’know? Torture.” He sighs, you clear your throat in attempt to will away the heat from your cheeks. You’d been searching for that bra just last week.

“Is that all you miss? My lingerie?” You scoff – although joking, it was a question that had been sitting in the back of your head for quite some time. What exactly did he miss? Just the sex, or you holistically?

He kisses you again, nipping at your lips.

“Miss the little puffs that came out of your lips when you were fast asleep. The scrunchies I find in every bloody place.” He laughs, listing off each thing between a delicate peck, “miss your smile. I just miss you.”

“I missed you too Harry, s’much.” Your breath is airy, the sheer amount of emotion weighing down your larynx, almost making it impossible to form a sentence. He almost seemed to render you speechless when he was like this, all soft and kind. The Harry that made you fall in love with him.

“Yeah?” You shiver at his tone.

You nod, “I almost texted you earlier, was kind of hoping we’d be able to talk. I’m glad you barged in on mine and Sarah’s conversation now.”

“Why didn’t you text?” He runs his thumb along where he was biting at your lips.

“I was scared you’d tell me to fuck off.” You laugh, “or worse, watch you from a few metres away reading the text and ignoring it.”

He shakes his head. “Y/N, you know I wouldn’t have done that.” You shrug, feeling your insecurity rising. Someone slinks past the door to the foyer and you both have bated breath until they move away. Harry has a frown on his face when he looks back at you.

“Did you even believe what I said that day?” His insecurity is showing now, and a resounding knock on the door makes you release your grip that was still on the back of his neck, interrupting the heavier content of the conversation.

“I’m fucking in love with you, you know that?” He yells as you’re halfway through the threshold of the door. You wish that this was like a film or something, that you’d stop in your tracks and turn back to him, running into his arms and making up in the beat of a heart. But this was real-life, real-life feelings and real hurt that you were feeling. You turn around, tears falling freely now.

“No you’re fucking not.” You whisper. His hand slips to your cheek and he has a pained look on his face and you’re shaking your head with your eyes screwed shut. He tries to convince you with small murmurs of your name.

A friend of Sarah’s pops her head round the door, informing you both that a toast was about to happen, and Mitch had given a very grumbled request that they be there. You both slip out to the garden with around five seconds between your entrances, but you’re fully aware of how suspicious it looks. You stand a bit away from Harry now, hands trembling slightly from where the conversation left off. Was that it? The moment you’d wished for since the day of your argument, the moment Harry would tell you he loved you, and actually meant it? You shake off the question, locking your eyes on the couple before you.

“Everyone here? Good.” Mitch grins, and it’s a weird sight to say at the least.

“We wanted to thank you all for attending our little do, though it turned out to be a bit of a soiree, thank you Harry.” Sarah jokingly grits his name through her teeth and it draws a laugh from the crowd. Harry knew people, and he knew how to throw a party. Harry jokingly bows and a string of secondary laughs buzz through the crowd.

“I promised I’d take this one, since, you know, Mitch is such the talker,” he gives her a faux-stern look, nothing even remotely bitter in his eyes, just pure and unadulterated love. The sun peeks over the distant houses and hills of England, and you breathe in the air. It was a perfect scene and it blossomed that already-blooming seed of love in your stomach.

“I guess, us finding one another was unexpected. Not the bad kind of unexpected though, and I’m eternally grateful to whatever force brought us together, I guess. You make me better, and you make my life brighter, and louder, and a bit more bearable.” Sarah’s voice is quiet and wobbly, and you feel your throat catching. Mitch looks the most emotional you’ve ever seen him. “I felt silly telling you I loved you that first time, because I didn’t possibly think you could love me back. But you did, and you do, every single waking moment. Looking back, I think it’s ridiculous to push those feelings away, or even doubt them at all. If you love, love to your highest count, y’know, as cheesy as it sounds. Let those people know, because it might be your last chance.” she laughs, wiping tears from her pink cheeks. Mitch grabs her hand and squeezes it and you hear a few sniffles in the crowd, people clapping and cheering and hooting. Tears silently slip down the scape of your cheekbones and some kind of pull forces you to look in Harry’s direction, his eyes already on you, consuming you. He's got tears falling out of his eyes too, hands clapping but paying no attention to the celebration around him. He shakes his head at you in disbelief, a laugh falling from his lips. There’s a small vacuum and It feels like you and Harry are the only ones in it for a moment, Sarah’s voice tuning out.

“I love you. I love you so much.” He mouths, but you can see every syllable, every word, and God, can you feel each word too.

People file away from the huddle towards a table laid with food and drink, leaving you both under the cast of the setting sun. His face glows like a beacon.

You carry yourself over to him and submit to his hold, leaning all of your both physical and emotional weight against him as he kisses you with every fibre of his being. You both laugh in between the movements, unbothered by the possible attention of others around you as you turn your heads in tandem. His hands grip your waist so tightly you fear he might break you, but some part of your brain is more than okay with that. The kiss isn’t anything more than delicate touches, saving the indulgent ones for when you’re in private.

“I love you too. I did those months ago and I still do.” You whisper, kissing his cheek, his mouth, the mole next to his mouth. He holds you to his chest as you both stop to look at each other. The peace you had been seeking finally sets in as you brush his hair around his face. His eyes bounce around your face as he breathes out his next words, that make your heart contract.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re my girl.”

.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry #harry styles fluff #boyfriendrry #harry styles angst #harry styles story #boyfriend!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles oneshot #harry’s house #harry styles husband #fanfiction #one direction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles reader insert #i might write smut for this oop #harry styles au

[alectoperdita]

Hey I just wanted to send u a big internet hug. Thx U so much for all the amazing fics and art u create u reignited my love for Joukai pls don't be disheartened u R amazing thx u for everything u create and share.

Thank you for the kind words, anon.

As much as I appreciate the sentiment, please understand that the ranting is not about me. It's for all the other amazing writers and artists that I can't help but feel are passed over and under appreciated. So if you have the time/energy, I highly encourage you to reach out to others who have made things you've enjoyed and send them your love. I'm sure they would be ecstatic to hear from you too. 💜💜💜

Seriously, anyone who's reading this, consider sending an ask to another creator or reblogging someone's work(s) with some nice tag(s). I've queued up a bunch of joukai works by others so you can look at those or through my tags. Or just any work of art you've enjoyed created by someone.

Fandom is a gift economy, so please spread the love.

Thanks again, and I hope you have a stellar day/night, anon!

#replies #anonymous #look I understand I am loud in this tiny corner because I have been tenacious and prolific #but prolific should not be the best measure of quality #and I wasn't always prolific just in recent years #and in no small that that was because people were willing to appreciate the effort/time I do put into my art #I want that for everyone else in this corner too #and maybe part of the problem is I'm too prolific and crowd other voices out and don't boost other people's work as much as I could #but I can try #okay I probably really should eat and drink water so don't worry I'll log off and shut up for a while

[fraldarrius]

hello, me again 🥲

i literally hate making these posts but my mom and i are struggling really bad right now. i haven’t been getting nearly enough hours at work so my pays have been garbage, and my mom’s previous unemployment claim apparently ended and she’s since reapplied, but she hasn’t gotten any payments yet and when she called today she found out that she’s literally only going to be getting half of what she was getting before, which already was not enough to pay her bills so she has no idea how she’s going to pay everything that she needs to pay. i’ll probably end up buying the bulk of our groceries again since she literally will not have any money to spare, but i’m up to my eyeballs in debt and i’m struggling to pay everything that i need to pay as well 🫠 i’m already late on one of my credit card payments, which has literally never happened to me before, but the payment was almost $500 and i had literally no way of paying it fully—all i could spare was $100. now, monthly statements are hitting again so it’s going to be even worse and i’m basically just a ball of stress and anxiety right now 🤗 my mom has been trying to get on disability bc she has a ton of health issues and working is not really an option for her, but it’s been a really slow and difficult process so far and there isn’t really anything she can do to make it go faster unfortunately.

rn, my situation looks like this: i currently have about $30 to my name and i don’t get paid again until the 27th, i owe $160 for this month’s phone bill, $252 for my visa’s minimum payment, $372 from last month’s payment on my mastercard + probably another $400 for this month lmao, and i’m $324 into my $300 overdraft 🫠 so literally anything helps right now. i’m going to go through my stuff to see if i have anything i can sell to try and make some money that way, because i don’t have many other options rn, but in the meantime, if anyone has ANYTHING they can spare, i would appreciate it more than anyone knows.

paypal

ko-fi

fellow canadians can dm for my e-transfer email address

pls reblog and spread the word! and pls don’t feel bad if u can’t donate, the world has gone to shit and i know everyone is struggling a lot rn and i would never want to make anyone feel bad about that, reblogs are a very helpful alternative since it gets more eyes on the post and might make it to someone who does have some money to spare 🖤

#mutual aid #donation post #financial aid #financial assistance #i hate money so much y’all #my next pay should hopefully be decent but again i don’t get paid for another week and a half so that doesn’t help rn #and i don’t know if it’ll be enough to cover my bills + groceries anyway #im just exhausted i hate that this is my life #shush sar #i miss when random men on instagram would send me money bc they thought i was pretty #need that energy back

[kyra45]

“Hi buddy. Would it be fine if you can take a look at my pinned post and reblog/boost it? I really do apologize but I really need help rn. Thanks a ton!”

“hi! ♡ I know this is out of nowhere, would you reblog the pinned post for my mom's charity? thanks a lot!”

“hi :)) can you help me get reblogs for my cat post? tysm ❥!”

“Hello, could you kindly spread the word about my cat angel? We need some financial help to pay the vet bill.:)”

“hi can i ask for a favor? my cat need an operation and i need help to get my post spread. Do u mind reblogging it from my blog? tnx!”

“Hi im sorry for this! I know that its a bit of the blue but would it be okay if you can check my pinned post? Literally anything helps at this point. I’d appreciate whatever support can possibly be given. Pls consider sharing if its fine ❤️”

If you receive similar asks in your inbox, refer to this checklist.

#scam #donation scam #psa #sb #signal boost #scam warning

[pocmuzings]

hi all . as we all know , jobs and the arts have really taken a dive for funding in 2020 . my brother is a gay south asian actor in london , who is begging for representation and to be seen . he’s needing funds to keep him in a house , fed , and to potentially continue his acting degree so he can hopefully BE the representation for south asians that we need !

i know this is a hard ask , and i wouldnt normally if i didn’t know he wasn’t the most selfless , kind , brilliant person in the world . he’s literally saved my life twice . he’s driven me to hospital . held my hand . he’s made sure i’ve never felt alone . he’s helped me reach every life goal i’ve ever had . i need to say i helped him reach his , in any way , big or small

✨ if you can donate , even a few dollars / pounds . . i’d really REALLY appreciate it . or if u can reblog / share this post . . i’d also really appreciate it . ✨

i know it’s a lot and theres so many other places to give to , or people to help , but he’s my favourite human and i will do anything i can to make him happy 🥺🥺

#u all know how much i beg for south asian rep #my brother is out here trying his best so no other brown ppl watch mainstream tv or media and think we're ugly or too hairy #or have funny names #we are not laughingstocks !!! we can be beautiful and smart and sexy ! #hes trying so hard to BE that representation #hes such a wonderful person :((( #pls i wouldnt normally ask but i love him with my whole heart #reblog if u cant donate !!! even just to help spread the word i really really appeciate it

[sungbeam]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞

nonidol!chenle x fem!reader

premise. you and chenle fell hard and fast. but chenle's been hiding something from you, and he'll try his damnedest to keep it that way. but no matter how hard he may try, the truth always finds a way to be revealed. and that just may cost him everything.

genre. not exactly slow burn, fluff, angst!!, s2l, arranged marriage au later, college basketball star!chenle, richkid!chenle problems, college au, theaterkid!reader

warnings. ANGST, fluff, low-key cheating-ish?, chenle embodies down bad, reader tries and fails to resist, flirting and innuendos asf (it's chenle, cmon), kissing+making out (like one scene), cursing/swearing, chenle is kinda smooth asf, did I say ANGST yet?, angst, panic

word count. 24.2k (heh)

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @justanotherkpopstanlol @johlee @frickyratz @liamsholygrail @staysstrays @w3bqrl @y3jiishot

taglist: @j4eminie777 @jenosbliss @hibernatinghamster @user103843 @watermelonlee05

a/n: i speedran this fic and i am in shambles. i hope u all enjoy tho! pls pls pLs help a girl out and reblog, comment, or even send asks abt the fic! pls spread the word if u do enjoy reading this. it would mean the world to me <3

also huge thank you to @tayunji for being my sanity check and letting me live word count dump on her (and for always sending kind words, even if she angst cancels me 🤡)

You remembered the exact day you met Zhong Chenle.

It had been a long day. Actually, "long day" was an understatement. You'd been working at the café since opening until now, which was 4:32 in the afternoon, and for what reason? Absolutely none, other than the fact that you were dirt poor, and only the glimmer of false hope called overtime could grant you any reprieve. Ironically, you had little to no breaks today.

Funny, right? Always funny.

But it made for a sour mood as you took orders from people. You honestly tried your best to be nice and energetic and "happy to take your order!", even if that meant they wanted five more pumps of raspberry syrup, a dash of caramel sauce, and an extra pinch of turmeric. Turmeric, seriously?

You were just trading off places with one of your coworkers to take the register again when you heard the bell above the door jingle. Swiftly tightening the ponytail on your head, you adjusted the pencil seated in the little divot behind your ear. Your mouth widened in the perfect service smile, ready to spew out the same bullshit you always did.

The young man who sauntered through the door—yes, he sauntered—was lowering the Ray Bans from his eyes and hanging the leg from the collar of his black and white Balenciaga shirt. He had dark hair, the strands slightly wavy and curly atop his head; he reminded you of Ryan Gosling. At least, somewhat like Ryan Gosling.

But then that gut wrenching feeling came to you. Oh no, you knew exactly who this chad was.

And you saw the way his dark eyes looked you up and down, the same glimmer of recognition in them. You watched in slow motion as he approached the counter with a smirk curling at his lips, and you braced for goddamn impact.

Zhong Chenle smiled at you. "Hey."

If you hadn't known who Zhong Chenle was, then you would have been living under a rock—he was the boy who had everything. Basketball star, trust fund baby, academic genius—he was criminally famous around campus for not only being an all-rounder, but a total ladies' man. You were not oblivious to the rumors that circulated about him, but you had also never heard any solid evidence that he was dating anyone. He was an effortless flirt, and you had a feeling you might find out just how effortless he was.

Your smile tightened just slightly. Keep it up, Yn, he might tip well. And you need this new set of microphones for the stage crew. "Hi, what can I get started for you?"

"A tall, black coffee, please."

Easy enough. Your tense shoulders loosened as you reached up and took the pencil from your ear, the thin wooden stick twirling between your fingers mindlessly before the eraser came down on the screen to input the order into the system. "Cash or card?"

"Card."

And then you watched as he whipped out a slick, black credit card like it was the prophetic playing card you had pulled from his deck in a magic trick. You raised a brow, unimpressed, as he handed it over to you across the café counter for you to insert into the credit card reader. A black card for a four dollar cup of coffee?

Your friend Felix would be hounding for a good tip by now. You could imagine the dollar signs lighting up in his eyes.

"So uh, are you doing anything after your shift?" Chenle suddenly asked, leaning against the counter with one hip as he took back the card and tucked it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He brushed the dark hair from his forehead, glancing at you with cool nonchalance.

You were close to telling him that this was just a McDonald's drive-thru. Maybe if you weren't so tired from today's shift, you would have given him the reaction he wanted: shy giggling, tucking your hair behind your ear, smiling through soft blushes. It was the reaction he would probably expect. Instead, you could only give him a half-hearted smirk. "Probably take a nap."

"You could take a nap with me."

"Uh-huh." You finished off inputting his order into the system with the end of your pencil. You spun the pencil between your fingers, tucking it behind your ear once more, the feeling comfortable and familiar. Unlike the weight of his stare. You pretended you didn't see how Chenle's eyes bursted into hearts while he watched you do that particular move again. "Could I get you anything else?"

"Yeah, actually." He feigned confusion as he patted down his jacket and pants pockets. "I think I lost my number. Could I borrow yours?"

The feminine urge to—

"Ynie, what's taking so—oh hey, Chenle!" Thank the Lord for Felix Lee. The blondie appeared at your side, hand planted on your shoulder, as he greeted his friend with a bright smile. "Dark coffee again?"

Chenle nodded. "Yep. I was just introducing myself to your pretty friend over here." He winked at you, and you realized just how much confidence he must have had if he could wink at you in front of Felix.

Felix's head whipped over to you, eyes comically wide, and you sent him an earnest "don't you fucking dare, Lee Yongbok!" look, but alas… the man never did listen to you, did he? Felix smiled, slow and mischievous. "Oh? Well, I'm sure Yn would love to keep introducing herself to you while I go get your coffee ready, huh, Ynie?"

"Don't you 'Yn-ie' me, mister," you practically hissed. The cheeky bastard just threw you to the wolves!

Your friend patted you on the back and left soon after, swiftly stealing a cup from your side as he went. It was too late to haul him back without making a scene.

"He's gonna expect you to tip him for this, y'know?" You joked as a sorry attempt to make conversation. Or not be left in awkward silence. But you had an idea that Chenle was gifted at avoiding awkward silences.

Chenle bit his lip to suppress a smile. "Yeah, but I'd much rather tip you instead." The most magical thing he could have possibly done? He glanced around as if this were an illegal drug deal, and in a way this was, but he pulled a black, leather bifold from his jacket pocket and began counting out bills.

You slapped a hand over your mouth. "That," you said slowly before you could stop yourself, "is probably the sexiest thing you've done since you walked in here."

Aaaaaand there you go, Yn. Genius. Fantastic. If I could slap myself—

The man's eyebrows shot up and his hands stopped flicking through the bills. A grin crawled onto his sculpted face once more. "Ah, so you think I'm sexy? I knew you'd come around."

There was no doubt about it—your face was on fire. "No, that isn't what I said. I said that your action was sexy; not necessarily you."

But the damage had been done. You had inadvertently inflated Zhong Chenle's ego even more than it already was blown up to.

"That's cute," he said and folded a handful of bills in half. He gestured for you to stick your hand out, and he grabbed your wrist, placing the bills into your palm and curling your fingers around them.

After you had slipped the bills into the pocket of your waist apron, you saw Chenle lick his lips; there was a worrying sparkle in his eyes. "Hey, if you put your number on the cup, I'll give you more."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. How much money did this man have? "Dude, I think you've given me enough. I'm close to giving you this wad of cash back."

He shrugged. "Then your number, and a date and time."

"Date and time?"

He sighed, hand draping over his forehead. Chenle shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Tsk tsk, for such a pretty face, you sure—"

You glowered. "Finish that sentence, Zhong. I dare you."

Chenle let out a sharp laugh, but he raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, sure, baby. Whatever you want." He chuckled under his breath. "Damn, you're hot when you're feisty. I should rile you up more."

"Your presence is enough to do that."

"Ah, so I'm enough for you? I'd use the word perfect, but we can work on that." He opened his mouth, no doubt to say something to make you even more flustered, but Felix's squawk of distress pierced through the café's lo-fi music.

"Uhhhh, Yn? A little help, heh."

You pursed your lips. "Duty calls."

Chenle nodded in understanding. "'Course. Remember, Yn: number, date, and time." The image of his smirk was ingrained in your brain as you abandoned the counter to see whatever Felix had done to mess up his coffee. And you would end up scrawling all three of those things onto the side of Chenle's cup. For what reason? None at all, except for you trying to convince yourself it was because he practically paid you to do it, and not because you were the slightest bit interested.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈—

It scared you, how quickly you and Chenle had fallen into a routine. After your first meeting at the café, you both had planned out an outing together—dinner and a movie. Simple, right?

Yeah. Except, dinner and a movie was in his penthouse with a private chef flown in from his home province of Shanghai, and the movie wasn't even out in theaters yet. Yeah, you tried to explain it to Felix the next day, but there were little to no words to describe everything you had experienced that night. The luxury, the awe—the guilt.

God, you couldn't stomach seeing yourself sometimes. Especially whenever he popped into the café calling you babe, slapping too much money on the counter for just a cup of plain old coffee, and hanging out on a stool to keep you company for the rest of your shift. Sometimes you had something planned at the theater that you had to go run and manage, but whether it was that or going straight home, Chenle was offering you a ride there.

You would be walking on campus and see him pass by with his group of wild friends. He would wink at you, blow you a kiss, shout your name; anything to get your attention. And it definitely caught people's attention.

You didn't have a shift at the café today, but you had been holed up in the backstage office all afternoon. The theater society at the university was going to be thrust into chaotic, hellish Tech Week, the week right before opening night of their most recent play, The Lucky Ones. It was actually a student-written and student-directed play, and you were so excited to see the finished product on opening night. You had already sent out advanced tickets to your friends and family, spread word to your theater friends at other schools, and most of all totally found a date.

It wasn't like Huang Renjun, the director, was forcing you to bring a date. It was just that you had never brought a date before. You never needed one. You always chose to enjoy the play on your own, or in the company of your closest friends, but with recent events? You had an idea.

A confident knock on the door broke you from your stupor, and you told them they could come in.

Speak of the Devil…

Chenle poked his head into the room, eyes already roaming about the small office space with curious eyes. He allowed himself in, easily finding a seat in the chair across from you. "Hi Yn-ie. Renjun said I could find you in here."

"Oh, right," you clicked your pen closed and tucked it behind your ear, "sorry, I forget how time passes when I'm alone in here. Did you call or text? I always keep my phone off." You dug around your desk drawer before finding the device deep in the mess of paper clips, random SD cards, bookmark stickies, and the like. It was like the aftermath of an explosion at an office supply store.

"Alone? You could always call me to come hang out; keep you company," he said, ignoring your previous statement. He twisted in his seat, draping his legs over the arm of the chair and resting sideways in it. "Unless this is your private space. Then I won't intrude."

You found yourself smiling. "Ah, no. Having someone in here will probably ground me to reality, actually."

"I do need something though."

You perked up. "Sure."

He grinned. "Don't sound too eager now."

"Zhong," you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, okay! God, you're kind of sexy when you're like that. Anyways!" He said loudly to prevent you from making yet another remark. He giggled. "You're cute. But yeah, I have court side tickets to our opening game of the season this Friday, and I would absolutely love to see your pretty face in the stands."

He added cheekily, "Screaming my name, of course."

Oh god. How did you not expect that? You sighed. "Yes, of course."

Chenle propped his chin in the palm of his hand, head tilted sideways as he looked at you. "That's a yes to the tickets and wearing my jersey then."

"Yes—wait, what?"

He clapped his hands together loudly. "Next topic! A little birdie also told me that baby needs a date for a certain opening night next week." He flipped his imaginary, long hair over his shoulder. "Just let me know when and what color your dress is."

You crossed your arms over your chest and you were scared at how fast it was pounding. "Bold of you to assume that I don't already have a date."

For a second, you swore you saw his confident facade falter. But it must have just been a glitch in the matrix, because there was no way, right? "Okay, and? I'm better."

"Uh huh," you hummed, unimpressed. "I'll need a better reason than that to ditch my prior commitment," you teased.

You knew he had caught on, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, corners of his mouth lifting. "Ah, I see. I don't think I'll buy myself into this one, will I? Well, what if I told you I'm an excellent play watcher? Probably the most well behaved person you'll find in the seats—"

You covered your laugh with a cough. "Chenle, you couldn't sit through one two-hour long movie. This play is at least three."

Chenle pouted, wrinkling his nose at you. "Why are you making this so difficult for me, Ynie? I just wanna return the favor, support your play, support your art!"

"Okay, okay, you big baby," you caved. "I'll let you know when I pick out a dress." But inwardly you were grateful. God, you were so grateful. There were so many rumors about this man, but he had yet to disappoint you. And even if you were nervous, you knew the butterflies in your stomach were from the things he was making you feel.

If he was as the rumors said he was, then why would he put so much effort into impressing you? Or, as he said himself, supporting you and your craft?

Chenle lifted his head, mouth falling open slightly. "You mean you haven't picked out a dress yet?"

"No, you are not buying me a dress or watching me choose a dress."

"You're literally no fun."

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈—

Karina, your roommate, was skeptical. You had to admit, however, that she had every right to be, given her last relationships and the fact that she knew every drop of gossip that landed at SMU's front door. She was fully immersed in campus news, especially since she ran the university's magazine and yearbook committees. So Zhong Chenle was a subject she heard about often, but she never thought she'd have to hear about him at home from you, too.

"Just think about it, 'kay? Don't make any hard decisions yet."

You waved him off, this being the seventh time since the theater that he was bugging you about the dress. Jesus, it was like this man was eager to waste his money somewhere. You already felt terrible as it was. "Chenle, I will. But absolutely no promises."

He gestured with his hand, his back leaning against the wall in the hallway right across from your door. "Sure, fine. Whatever you say."

"Zhong Chenle, you are not getting your way this time."

He smiled, like he knew that was a lie.

You shooed him off after that. Your pride needed a bit of restoration, as well as some reassurance that you would not let this man completely take down your defenses.

When you let yourself into the apartment, locking the door behind you, Karina was already on the couch with her laptop on her knees and the coffee table swarmed with spread upon spread. "Was that Chenle again?" She asked as you set your things down on the kitchen table noisily.

"Yeah," you said back. "Just came from the theater."

"He came by to see you?"

You threw open the fridge in search of a beverage. "Mhm. Asked me to go to his game on Friday. Court side tickets or whatever."

Karina nearly rocketed up from her seat. "Court—court side tickets?"

Your back was turned, so you hadn't seen her very physical reaction. You continued to scour the depths of the fridge before you settled on a can of iced tea. "Yeah." When you faced her, sipping on your tea, you lifted a brow in silent question at her widened eyes and now disturbed position.

Your roommate set her laptop aside so she could lean against the back of the couch. "Yn, sweetie, he asked you to sit court side. Did he happen to ask you to wear his jersey?"

At this, you snorted. "Pretty much told me to."

Karina puffed out her cheeks, and you recognized this particular quirk as something she did when she was trying not to spontaneously combust on the spot. "He's literally staking his claim on you. Like… ever read those Wattpad books where the guy is possessive and makes the girl wear his jacket or jersey or whatever?"

"You have?"

"That's not the point!" She stammered. "But that's what's happening right now, Yn! The basketball players hardly ever bring someone to sit court side, unless they're family or close friends. Honestly, I think only two or three players are thought to be bringing their significant others to the game this week."

You screwed the lid back onto your tea bottle and settled on the couch beside Karina. "Why is it such a big deal?" You could probably answer that question yourself, to be honest.

Karina still answered nonetheless, "Because Chenle's single. Well, until he met you. Have you guys talked about a label yet? I don't mean to pry or push."

Actually? No, you had no label for whatever was happening with Chenle. "No, you're good. But no, we haven't talked about it, but to be honest, there hasn't been a need for it. We went on, like, one official date and then had a couple of hangouts afterward. We're like… friends right now."

That was generously put. He was practically your—no, don't say it. Maybe you should have a conversation about your boundaries.

"Okay well, does he feel the same way? I don't even know, Yn-ie, but I feel like I should warn you to be careful."

That was reasonable. You could understand where Karina was coming from, and you really shouldn't be falling so quickly into this thing with him until you knew his intentions. You didn't want to be just temporary to someone. If you were going to put your all into a relationship, it should be for real, right?

Karina sighed, bracing her elbow against the back of the couch and looking at you with her head tilted to the side. "I don't want to dishearten you. You like him, don't you?"

Your eyes widened. "L-like him? Maybe as like a companion, but not—not like that! Pfft." Yeah, no. You liked him, or at least, you were beginning to like him. But this could just be an infatuation, you thought. Feelings were fickle things, and you wanted to get this right.

Karina deadpanned at you. With an exasperated shake of her head, she shifted to pick her laptop back up. "Sometimes I worry about you."

"Hey!" You squawked. "It's too early to determine that."

Her hum was disbelieving. "Yeah, sure. So how many tickets did Chenle give you? Just one? It'd be kinda cool to sit court side for once."

You shrugged. "Actually, no idea. But I don't really wanna be sitting there by myself. I haven't been to a basketball game in a while, so it'd be nice to bring a friend or two."

"Shoot him a text?"

You were already pulling your phone out of your pocket, thumbs flying over the keyboard.

you: quick question

His reply was instantaneous.

zhong: yes i can pick u up to go dress shopping

You rolled your eyes. He really was not going to give this up.

you: no not abt the dress

you: i was wondering if my friends could come w me to the game?

zhong: yeah ofc! lmk how many and i'll send the tix

"He just asked how many," you told Karina, who's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I'll just say you and Felix. I don't think I'd want to burden him with getting a hold of so many tickets."

As you typed out your response to Chenle, Karina voiced her agreement. "Yeah, that sounds good. Tell him thanks for me."

you: two + me pls

you: and karina says ty

you: ty again for doing this, u really didn't have to :(

zhong: i did it cuz i wanted to bby, so no need for all that

zhong: i'll get the tix and my jersey to u by tmr ;)

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕—

The jersey was red with bold, white letters on the back spelling out ZHONG, and the number 30. It was made of really nice, breathable quality, and was definitely the product of the administration's budget toward the school basketball team. You knew this from Karina's constant research and digging and interviewing with her organizations, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the basketball team was good enough to get so much funding. Chenle, you knew, was one of the best. Even if he wasn't captain, he was still talented.

You had been sitting on the edge of your bed with the jersey in your lap for the past ten minutes, trying to sike yourself out of whatever funk you were in. It was just a shirt, right? It didn't mean anything. (Except, it totally did. A shirt with Chenle's name and number on the back was a statement.)

There was a knock on your apartment door, and Karina yelled that she would get it. You were still considering the jersey.

Felix's blond head appeared in your bedroom doorway, eyebrows furrowed at you. "How long have you been staring at that thing, Yn?"

"Only ten minutes," you said sheepishly, standing up and walking over to your wardrobe. You were still in loungewear after you had taken a quick shower post-lectures. You knew you probably should have been at the theater tonight, but Renjun and Doyoung had waved you out of the building, telling you they "had it covered". You still worried.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed the doorknob. "Get dressed—it's just a shirt."

"It is not just a shirt, Lee."

He wagged his eyebrows, already closing the door. "You said it; not me…"

You glared at the closed door, but swallowed your fears, your nerves, your pride—and pulled the jersey over your head and over your tank top. Karina had suggested that you just wore shorts with the garment, but you realized now that the shirt fell to just about mid-thigh, basically hiding most of your shorts from view.

"Are you done? I want to see the floor from court side!"

Your eyes found the yellow cover of the book on your desk. Its cover read a pitiful Basketball for Dummies, and it was something you had bought on a whim at the bookstore yesterday in a sorry attempt to brush up on your basketball knowledge to ensure you didn't feel like a fool. You slung your small bag over your shoulder, leaving the book where it was, before you left the room. "You'll see plenty of the floor, alright!"

Felix was standing on the other side of the door, with Karina waiting by the couch. "Is that a threat, Ln?"

"Take it as you will."

The drive to the gymnasium was a brief one since yours and Karina's apartment wasn't far from campus. Finding parking? Now that was a whole different story.

Felix exhaled roughly as the three of you clambered out of his car, fresh night air rushing into your lungs after the stressful fifteen minutes of fighting for a parking space. It truly was war. All around you, car horns and squealing tires pierced through the night, only a taste of what you had just endured. Felix dragged a hand through his hair, huffing, "Christ, the people here are animals. Like seriously, it's like Black Friday!"

"I wouldn't compare it exactly to Black Friday," Karina mused. She adjusted the jacket on her shoulders to fit with the strap of her purse. Her eyes flickered to you. "Are you cold, Yn-ie? You can have my jacket?"

You dropped your hands from where they held your arms. It was a little chilly, but you should be able to manage until you got into the gym. You shook your head. "Nah, I'm okay. Just not used to…" You nodded to the jersey, your lack of pants. This was fine. Completely. You were practically swimming in the material.

Karina smiled at you and linked her arm with yours. "You look cute."

"You totes do!" Felix mocked a school girl squeal as he arrived on your other side, linking up with you. His asymmetrical silver earrings swung wildly from his earlobes as he began skipping through the tightly packed cars, dragging you and Karina behind him.

For a moment, you had allowed this to distract you from the whispers and glances you were getting from people. Once you reached the sidewalk to merge with the crowd of people headed for the gym, there was no way to hide the jersey now, except with a jacket. You held steady, kept your head level, and your eyes on the yawning doors to the gym.

"You think she made that herself?"

"It probably wouldn't cost a lot to make that. She must really want his attention."

You felt your friends' hold on you tighten, as if they were armoring up for something, but you wanted to tell them that you were fine. People could believe what they wanted to believe. By now, it was impossible not to draw attention to yourself.

The gym's bright fluorescent lights shone down on the court far below, and you and your friends showed your tickets to the nearest staff. He eagerly bounded down the stadium steps to show you your seats right where Chenle promised they would be—court side.

Felix could not get his mouth to close, or his eyes, as he gawked at the shiny floor under his soles. "Woah. This is so cool."

"I'm glad one of us is enjoying themselves," you chuckled, your hands finding your arms once more to hug yourself, maybe make yourself look smaller. From here, the big screens hanging above the court looked like the ones in Madison Square Garden, and everything just looked bigger, bolder. You had never watched a game from this angle, and you could only imagine how intense it got from here.

Once you were all settled, you felt a buzz from your back pocket.

zhong: hey u get here alright?

zhong: someone just told me they saw my jersey on u 👀

you: y r u acting surprised lol think I'd just leave it at home and say sike?

zhong: yeah kind of

you: zero faith

zhong: i'll make it up to u bby how does that sound?

you: and how exactly do u intend to do that?

zhong: win the game of course ;)

You shook your head, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. This man was making your head spin with his words.

you: so u didn't plan on winning otherwise?

zhong: well yeah, that too

zhong: i might hug u when we win, just so u know

zhong: unless

you: let's slow it down, buddy

you: we can start w hugging

Perhaps you could hear his breathy chuckle in your ears now. It wasn't the classic, high pitched one that exploded and brightened a room whenever it happened, but the one that made your stomach twist with butterflies and your heart leap into your throat.

zhong: okok

zhong: i'll c u in a bit then, coach is calling us in

zhong: enjoy the game :)

you: good luck chenle

zhong: thanks yn

Karina nudged you with her elbow to show you something on her phone, and you pocketed your own into your small bag. Felix had gone somewhere to chat with someone he recognized a few rows back, and probably to boast about the amazing view he was going to get right on court side. He wouldn't ever forget that he watched the opening game from this vantage point.

Soon, Felix rushed back into his seat, body buzzing like a three year old on candy. "It's starting! Oh my god, here they come!" He gestured to the far opening where you could already see a mass of bodies lining up.

The announcer came on overhead, loud and clear, ready to hype up the crowd. "Live! From the honorable and world renowned SM University Stadium is the opening game of the season between the SM Sentinels and the FNC Falcons! Sponsored by KakaoCorp—where people and the world get connected; and Naver—helping businesses stay connected."

You could feel the energy in the room increase as the announcer introduced the FNC team to the arena, the team dressed in yellow and white. But it wasn't until everyone waited in bated breath for your own team to appear that the tension was palpable. You could practically taste it on your tongue.

"And now… put your hands together and make some noise for your—very own—SENTINELS!" The buzzer screamed loud, but the crowd screamed louder.

You could barely hear your own thoughts as you screamed your own heart out for the swarm of red that flooded into the stadium. The pep band on the other side of the stadium was playing some hype song—you thought it was Lil Nas X's Industry Baby, but at this point, all the sounds were melting together.

You caught a flash of that dark hair and terribly bright beam in the blurred masses. There was a red and white sweatband holding his hair back, and he greeted the crowd so proudly as he jogged along the border of the court.

And then there was that heartstopping realization as the team was approaching where you and your friends were, aiming for the silver benches about a foot in front of you. And suddenly, the only thought in your mind was—

"Zhong Chenle, you son of a bitch," Felix giggled in pure giddiness.

You caught Chenle's eyes as he was coming closer, stopping directly in front of you on the bench. There was this distinct gleam of approval in his eyes when he saw the jersey. He winked at you, then turned around so he faced the court.

He had put you right behind them. Directly.

The game quickly began, jumping straight into the first half of the game. You could barely keep your head straight as you tried either focusing on Chenle or the basketball being passed, Chenle or the basketball. Both moved swiftly throughout the court, weaving through and from player to player.

You could feel the weight of tension, the energy thrumming throughout the stadium like a heartbeat.

The ball swooshed through the FNC hoop once, twice, several more times. Chenle was passing the ball, dribbling it up, jumping up, passing it again. Each member of his own team worked seamlessly, like they were gears in one well-oiled machine. Now you knew why SMU was so revered on the basketball stage.

Players were switched in and out, replacing each player at least once, but sparingly and strategically throughout. Chenle was pulled out at one point, sweat dripping from his face, his hair, and he guzzled down an entire bottle of water in less than five seconds. He was heaving for breath, and soon, he was thrown back into the frenzy.

And then the buzzer blared. The first half was over.

You, Felix, and Karina all collectively let out equally relieved sighs. One glance at the scoreboard had your heart bursting into an excited overdrive again. SMU was winning. By a lot.

For the halftime show, it was something you definitely hadn't expected—a rap contest.

"Each of our beloved contestants, who are all members of your SMU Sentinels, by the way," explained tonight's host and SMU alumni, Johnny Suh, "will compete in saying a small paragraph that will be displayed on the screen. Whoever does it the fastest will be crowned our winner for the night!"

You and the rest of the crowd watched as people quickly brought on a whiteboard with a large poster of words printed on it. Lined up horizontally on the court, there were a handful of players, including Chenle. He didn't look nervous, but you knew he was cracking jokes to his teammates up there.

Jung Sungchan went first, raising the bar up incredibly high. Then it was Park Jisung, then Han Jisung who basically knocked the bar out of the ballpark. Seo Changbin raised it a little more after that. Chenle tried his hardest, but you caught his fumbling on tape. Bang Chan, Osaki Shotaro, and Lee Jeno all followed shortly. In the end, it was Han Jisung who walked away with the bragging rights of being the fastest speaker on the team.

"There you have it, folks! Our certified Eminem of SMU!" Johnny charmed the crowd as the team players bowed. "How about a round of applause for our participating Sentinels tonight?"

The game resumed shortly, and everyone was thrusted back into the tension and thrill.

The second half was noticeably more tense, as FNC strived to regain their disadvantage and SMU strived to keep their advantage. The points kept shooting upwards, and you could barely stay in your seat, but you somehow kept yourself anchored down to it.

At this point, your throat was hoarse from screaming just as much as Felix and Karina were.

By the time the buzzer blared for the final time, there was no doubt about who won. Everyone shot up from their seats in screams of pride and happiness. It was a complete madhouse in the stands, but everyone allowed the players on opposite teams to have their moment congratulating each other respectfully and with good sportsmanship.

And then Chenle was jogging his way over to you, brushing his sweat-dampened hair back. There was a massive, ear to ear grin on his face, and it only widened as you stood up and offered him what he had prefaced you with earlier.

"Hi," he said simply, stepping into your embrace and wrapping his arms around you. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course. Thanks for inviting me." You stepped back from him. "Even if you're all sweaty and gross," you commented, dramatically scrunching your face up.

Chenle laughed loudly. "Okay, get back here!" He teased you, opening his arms as if he meant to cage you again in his embrace; only chuckled when you feigned disgust. He looked at Karina and Felix then, greeting the latter with a fistbump. "Thanks for coming, too, guys. Your support means a lot."

"You guys did fantastic out there," Karina complimented with an approving nod.

Felix jumped in. "Oh my god, yes! That was so amazing, dude! And dude, the view from court side?" His eyes rolled back as he ascended to nirvana.

Chenle shrugged his shoulders, smiling eyes meeting yours. "Well, I hope you continue to like it then."

Your blond friend froze. "What? Uh, I—does that mean…?"

A nod.

You were certain Felix might faint from excitement, or at least, go running around telling everyone he just scored however many seats at court side. Felix disappeared to exactly that, and Karina sighed.

"I should probably go keep an eye on him." She passed you a knowing look, hand brushing against your arm. "Meet me outside when you're ready to head out, 'kay?"

You nodded, and she was melting into the crowd.

"So how'd you like it?"

You whirled back to Chenle, who had his head slightly tilted and arms folded over his chest. There was that twinkle in his gaze as he looked at you, and you had a feeling yours mimicked that. "The game? It was a lot of fun. Your rapping skills, however?" You shook your head and ran your hand across your neck in a definitive no.

He chuckled, stepping closer to you and gently holding your arms. "Good thing you don't like me for my rap skills then."

"Who said I liked you, Zhong?" You teased.

"I did," he replied, effortlessly arrogant. "I mean, I like you, too, so."

There he went again, making your heart feel like it could unlock your ribcage and fly.

"God, you're stupid," was the only thing you could say in response. Your cheeks were definitely burning brighter than his jersey, and you had to avert your gaze for a few seconds.

"Stupidly handsome, sexy, talented." He adopted a mocking thoughtful expression. "The list goes on and on."

You laughed at that, voice trailing off. "Um, by the way, you really made Felix's night with that thing you said back there. So thanks for that."

Chenle licked his lips, nodding. "I'm glad, but did I make yours?"

"Hm?"

"I'm glad I made Felix's night," he repeated, just a tad slower this time and with a small tilt of the corners of his mouth, "but did I make your night? That's all I really wanted—to make your night."

There was no doubt about it. You could only answer one correct answer because it was completely and utterly true. "Yes," you told him. "You made my night." And you hoped this wouldn't be the last. No, you definitely knew this wouldn't be the last.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕—

The Lucky Ones was written and directed by Huang Renjun, co-authored by his alumni friend Xiao Dejun, and sponsored by alumni and head of the SMU theater department Kim Doyoung. It was about this pair of teenagers who had fallen in love with each other, but realized later in life that their love had been quick to spark, and just as quick to sputter into ash and smoke. It was riveting, realistic, and alluring. The entire play was so well written and so well directed, and you wouldn't just say that because you were friends with the directors and playwrights.

As you strode through the bustling and chaos of backstage, you couldn't help the distinct feel of pride in your heart. All of this work to get everything to come together would be well worth it.

"Yn!" A familiar voice called to you from somewhere amongst the madness. Renjun was hustling over to you, the ends of his bow tie left undone, but his two-toned hair was styled to perfection. "What are you doing back here? You should be in the balcony already."

You rushed over to him and grabbed his tie, expertly and swiftly tying it into a bow. "I know, but Doyoung and Xiaojun needed me to smack some sense into you."

He scoffed. "Some sense? I'm completely fine. Not panicking, of course."

You gripped hard onto his shoulders and forced him to look at you. "Breathe, Jun. Just breathe. The show's gonna be perfect, okay? You've worked too damn hard for it not to be."

Renjun inhaled deeply, held it for a couple seconds, then exhaled slowly. He opened his eyes, nodding to you. "Okay. Yeah. I think I'm… calmer. Thank you, Yn."

"Good, okay." You smiled softly at him, his hand reaching to grab yours on his shoulder. "I'll see you in the balcony?"

"See you there. Say hi to Chenle for me?"

"Yeah, I'll let him know!"

In a few minutes, you had hustled your way out into the lobby and up the stairs to where the balcony for stage left was located. You knew that Chenle must already be waiting there for you, judging from the texts you saw light up your phone screen.

zhong: paging nurse to patient

zhong: i'm incredibly bored w/o my seatmate

zhong: nurse, i'm gonna need someone's hand to hold to get thru this

You snorted, covering your mouth sheepishly as you passed an older couple.

you: heels and velvet covered stairs do not go well

you: patience is a virtue

zhong: i just miss u 🤨 isn't that a virtue

You were already coming up on the doorway leading to the furthest balcony to the left. The usher at the door recognized you as the general stage manager, nodded and let you through. Even in your dark blue evening gown and fancy getup, you could still be recognized, which was reassuring. You definitely felt like you had overdone it.

The balcony was dark and relatively empty. There were a few couples scattered about the rows of seats, but you walked toward the lone form seated near the edge.

"You know, it was kind of embarrassing to walk in without a da—holy shit."

Chenle had twisted around in his seat only to find you making your way toward him in that dress. Well, to you, it was a dress. But to Chenle, it was the dress. The one he had subtly sent to Felix, who had sent it to Karina, who had sent it to you. It was quite the simple transaction, really, but god damn.

He thought you would look good, but he didn't think you would look this good. Like drop dead, fucking gorgeous. If he wasn't sitting, he might have dropped to his knees and prayed. Because what in the world had he done in his previous life to deserve meeting someone like you?

Of course, you were completely unaware of the purely simp thoughts running amuck in Chenle's head; you were only aware of the fact that he looked really handsome in his tux and that he was staring an awful lot.

"Hey," you said, settling in the seat next to him. "Is there, uh, something on my face?"

"Beauty," he said, almost in instinct, then cringed. "Sorry, that was the absolute worst."

You laughed, actually finding it funny. "No, that was good," you reassured with a very convincing nod of your head. "Renjun says hello. I had to go calm him before he started pacing. Hope you weren't waiting long."

Chenle nodded in understanding. "Ah, makes sense. No, I wasn't waiting long." He smiled at you. "Just couldn't wait to see you."

Flustered and flattered, you reached for his hand, lacing them over the arm rest between you. "Couldn't wait to see you, too. You clean up very nicely, Lele."

His lips parted, and you could've sworn his cheeks blushed a hard red. "Sorry, what?"

"Lele? You don't like the nickname—?"

"No, please—" he cleared his throat, hand squeezing yours lightly. "I—it's fine."

You grinned. You just made Zhong Chenle flustered. "Whatever you say, Lele. Anyway, thank you for coming tonight to see the show."

He regained composure quickly, to his credit. His thumb gently ran over your linked fingers. "Wouldn't miss it." For once, he couldn't choke out the words to tell you how beautiful you looked.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈—

It was about a week later that you were groggily ruffling through your damp hair with a towel as you walked into your room. It had been an awfully long day at the café, and because Felix had a dance comp and because Chenle had an away game in another city, you were left by your lonesome, overworked and bored out of your mind. You were about to get Renjun or Karina to come keep you company, but then Chenle had actually called you at work.

For the remainder of your shift, you had one earbud in, listening to him talk about his day while he listened to you talk about yours. Since his first game, you tried to go to all of his home games, and if the away games weren't too far, you would try to make it to those as well. And after the opening night at the theater, the two of you had grown even closer. You were practically inseparable, so the hours-long phone call from today was well appreciated.

You kicked the door to your bedroom closed, aiming for your phone sitting on the nightstand connected to the charger. The screen had gone dark after you had taken a very indulgent hot shower. So much so that steam had trailed after you when you opened the door, and you were certain you would hear from the landlady about your hot water use again sometime this week. Or at least, you would hear from Karina.

"You took that long to shower and you didn't invite me over?"

You rolled your eyes and silently thanked god that Chenle wasn't here to see your smile. Yes, the call was still going. "In your wildest dreams, Zhong. And how would you have gotten here anyway? Cube is like at least a nine hour drive."

"Are you saying that if I was in town, you would have invited me to join you?" You could practically hear the smile in his words, the way his eyebrows would dance with intent.

"You're incorrigible." You hung your damp towel on the end of your bed and crawled under your covers. The phone screen lit up again as you tapped it awake to be met with Chenle's profile picture: him with his hair tied in a ponytail, like a little sprout. It had actually been lovingly sent to you by Chenle's best friend, Park Jisung, sometime last week after the two of you formally met. Chenle always teased you for admitting he was cute in the photo, but you knew that he had originally been so embarrassed when he found out, and even threatened to give Jisung the silent treatment for "betraying" him like that. That bit of intel was courtesy of some of Chenle's roommates, Jisung himself and Sungchan.

Speaking of…

"Is that Yn? Hi Yn-ieeeeeee!!!" Jisung and Sungchan choruses from somewhere in their shared hotel room.

You laughed warmly. "Hi guys! Lele, lemme talk to them."

A beat of silence passed, and the phone was handed over. Jisung's voice was a lot louder now. "Haha, Yn, Chenle-ssi's sulking now."

Sungchan chimed in, "Yeah, he glared at us just now."

"Ah well, I requested to speak with you both," you said. "I've been talking to him all evening. How are you both? How's Cube?"

"Oh," Jisung replied brightly, "it's so beautiful, actually! Their campus is really pretty."

"Yeah, I'm really glad we got to stay for a few days." This was Sungchan again. "Maybe next time you can tag along!"

You smiled, fidgeting with the hem of your blanket. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Okay, I think Chenle might beat our asses in the morning if he doesn't get the phone back this instant," Jisung laughed again.

The phone was passed for the second and last time tonight. There were sounds of shuffling again, then laughter from far off, and then a huff of annoyance. "Hi baby."

"Oh, stop sulking, Lele," you admonished playfully. "They only wanted to say hello."

"I know." You could hear him settle into his bed, or at least, sit down somewhere. "I like talking to you though."

"I know; I like talking to you, too." A thought suddenly occurred to you. "Don't you have practice tomorrow morning?" You asked him. You tucked yourself in, eyes pinned to his smiling face in the profile picture, suddenly wishing he was closer. "You should sleep."

Chenle's warm chuckle echoed through your phone. "You'll miss me too much, baby. But I'll let you fall asleep first, how does that sound?"

The corners of your mouth curled upward. "You're so stupid."

"Stupidly in love with you."

The words made your heart stop, and you swore you could hear a slap from the other side, as if he had slapped his hand over his mouth.

You sat up. You suddenly weren't too tired. "Lele… can we talk?" You asked quietly, sitting up against your headboard.

You heard shuffling and a curse from the other side, along with murmuring. After a door had closed in the background, he said, "Um yeah. Sorry, had to get out of the room. Uhm…" You would never know how fast his heart beat in that moment alone, the utter fear he held believing he might have just stepped over a line. "Sorry, was that too much?"

"Was it, like, a joke?" You bit your lip, then clarified, "Are you serious about that? Your feelings?"

A sigh. "Yn, I really like you. It scares me to bits how much I do."

Your nerves soothed at that. At least you were both feeling the same thing. "Okay, same," you murmured.

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm doing this over the goddamn phone!" He made a noise of anguish and you giggled. "I'm sorry, baby. No grand gesture," he groaned, "but we both feel the same way, right? Can I—can I be your boyfriend?"

Of course, he would give you the ultimate decision. And of course, there were no doubts in your mind.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐈—

You know those rumors you had been so worried about before? You couldn't give two shits about them now.

It was a Sunday, generally the only free day that you and Chenle shared consistently. Today, you were sitting in a window seat of a dim sum restaurant, gazing out at the duck pond just outside the window. The willow tree leaves drifted peacefully in the mid-spring breeze, flowers blooming in their wake. It was a beautiful scene to behold.

Arms came around from behind you, lips pressing to your temple. "Hi, baby. Sorry I'm late." Chenle slid into the seat across from you, freshly showered, and bright as usual. He wore a dark blue sweatshirt and dark jeans,with his Ray Bans hanging from his collar—just a casual look for a casual brunch date.

"It's okay; you had practice," you told him and brought your cup of tea to your lips. "How was it this morning?"

Chenle gave a half-hearted shrug. "Tiring, as usual, but good." The team had been practicing relentlessly this past week since finals were coming up soon. It was a miracle that the two of you even made time for each other since you and the theater company were gearing up for closing night of The Lucky Ones. Shows had been selling out just as fast as the seats in the stadium, and while you didn't watch every showing of the play like you did opening night, you were in the gym watching Chenle and his team beat every competitor who set foot in there.

This Friday would be finals between SMU and YGU, and when the Sentinels beat them too, Championships would be held next week. You were all hoping that Championships would be held at SMU instead of the other school. It wouldn't make a difference whether or not you would go, because you planned to definitely be there, but it would be great to have home court advantage.

As Chenle raised his hand and flagged down a nearing cart, your gaze wandered to the grassy pond area outside. It seemed to be a wonderland for all of the dogs whose owners were inside eating brunch without them, but they were all playing together.

The smell of fresh steamed buns and a whole smorgasbord of spices permeated your nose as BBQ pork buns, shrimp shumai, fried squid, and shrimp rice rolls drizzled with a sweet soy sauce were placed onto your table. Chenle was already whipping out his chopsticks and wiping them with a napkin. "Bon appetit." He followed where you had been looking briefly out the window. "So many cute dogs out there."

"I know," you cooed, reaching for a pork bun. "It'd be nice to have a dog. I think I've wanted one since I was a kid, actually, but owning a dog is like having a child."

"I have a dog," Chenle said offhandedly.

Your eyes positively lit up, and he chuckled at how cute you were. "You do? But I never see anyone else at your apartment."

"She's in Shanghai." He shoved the rest of the shumai into his mouth before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his phone. "When I moved to Seoul," he said as he swiped through his phone with a furrowed brow, "I left her with my cousin, Ningning."

He then showed you his phone screen where a slightly younger version of Chenle was taking a selfie, but with a small, white ball of fur peeking over his shoulder.

The further he swiped, the more you just melted. "Aw, she's so cute. What's her name?"

Chenle smiled fondly at the photo he just pulled up. "Daegal. Yeah, I miss her a lot."

"Why didn't you bring her to college with you?" You asked and broke apart the bun, steam flowing up out of the yawning mouth of fluffy, white bread.

"Ah, I thought it would be too much of a hassle at the time, but I haven't been home for a while, so I haven't seen her in a long time." He suddenly frowned, and you figured it'd been awhile since he thought of going home. He must have been so immersed in his life here, and you wondered if he would have ever thought of going back.

"Have you ever thought about going home for a bit? Y'know, to take a break?"

His face shuttered, like he was thinking of something. "No, not for a long time." And by his clipped tone, you knew to not touch that subject. But he was back to his pleasant self in an instant, "So what's the plan for today? Go roller skating, go swimming—god, I haven't seen you in a bathing suit yet? What is this—"

You slapped a hand over his mouth, red seeping onto your cheeks. He only snickered under your palm, and you hoped that everyone around you either didn't hear that comment or was choosing to ignore it. Either way, you hoped it didn't draw too much attention. But then again, Chenle himself drew attention.

"Are you crazy?" You whisper-shouted at him after you removed your hand and sat back down in your seat. "Why'd you say that so loud?"

Chenle's eyebrows danced in amusement. "I'm very passionate about the subject."

You deadpanned. "Well, I don't think America heard you."

"America would be lucky to see you in a swimsuit," he shrugged and flagged down another cart, this time, with his eyes set on the Chinese broccoli in oyster sauce. His eyes twinkled. "As for me, I'd be very happy to see you in a swimsuit."

You tried to ignore the fact that your face was on fire. "You'll just have to wait then. I have a date."

Chenle wrinkled his nose at you sourly. "With who?"

"Felix and Karina—ooh, are those taro buns on that cart?"

Chenle was quick to flag down that cart, too, and got you a nice plate of four of them. He idly scratched his jaw, bottom lip pouting. "So I'm being cockblocked by your best friends?"

"Yah! Zhong Chenle!"

He bursted into laughter, the joyful sound drawing eyes, but making your fake anger melt away into fondness. "Sorry, baby, you're just so cute when you're flustered."

"That makes one of us," you muttered cheekily.

"Hey!"

You chuckled. "Deserved."

He made a face, cheeks puffed out as he scowled at the plates of food. "Remind me to not get you taro buns next time."

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈—

It was late when you finally made your way back in through the back door of the performing arts buildings, walking back to the theater through the back hallway. Tonight had been closing night of The Lucky Ones, and as usual, it had all gone incredibly well. Renjun, for the first time in the history of you knowing him, had bursted into tears as he bowed with his actors on the stage at curtain call. You had just walked the man to his car and now needed to hurry back to lock everything up for the night.

As you neared the backstage area, your footsteps faltered at the sound of music playing. Like from the grand piano backstage. You kept your footsteps light as you made your way toward the backstage door that was left open so the gentle serenade drifted out into the hall.

The stage lights had been turned off earlier to save energy, and the only light was from the little lightbulb hanging in the backstage area, above the piano.

You peered into the room, not wanting to interrupt the beautiful music being played, but knowing that no one else should be here. "Hello?"

The music stopped.

"I'm sorry," you said, stepping inside the doors, "but you're not supposed to… Lele?"

Even though he had a black hood thrown over his dark bangs, you still recognized his pretty eyes, rimmed in silver and red—like he'd been crying. He swiped at his damp cheeks, and you realized that, yes, he definitely had been.

"Oh, honey…" you murmured, rushing over to him and swallowing him in your embrace. Chenle wasted no time burying his face into the crook of your neck and hugging your waist tightly. Your hand gently rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him. "Hey, are you okay, what's wrong?"

Last night was the game against YG, to which, of course, the Sentinels had won. Everyone had gone home jubilant and hyped for championships next week against HYBE U. Chenle had gone out to celebrate with his teammates last night, so you hadn't seen him since, only talked with him over call and text like usual. So maybe something had happened between that?

He sniffled. "You weren't answering your phone, so I came here, and you weren't in your office, so…" He half-heartedly gestured to the piano. "I thought I'd try to… distract myself a little."

You brushed your lips against his head. "I'm sorry, honey. I had my phone on silent for the show, and I was walking Renjun out to his car. I—do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Just want you."

"Okay, that's okay." You patted his head gently. "I didn't know you played piano. You're really good." And that was the truth. The notes had flowed together as smoothly as a river, and it had almost lured you to dance on the stage—if you could dance. It was like his hands had been made to play.

"It's been awhile," he said as an explanation. "Did you like it?"

"I liked it a lot. It's so beautiful; just like you, you know that?"

Checked suddenly raised his head from your shoulder to look at you. You could see the glisten of unshed tears waiting to spill and follow their predecessors down the slopes of his cheeks. His bottom lip trembled. "Yn," he rasped, "be honest with me."

You prompted him to continue, worry plaguing your mind.

"Do you like me—just for my money? Are you with me because I pay for things and get you things and all that?"

So this was what this was about. You shook your head earnestly. "No. No, no, of course not, Chenle." You reached for his hands and laced your fingers together, both of you staring down at your hands. "Chenle, I like you because you're sweet and hilarious and brilliant. I like you because you make my days and you always care about how I am, that you're not afraid to be with me. You show me off, but you respect my boundaries; you support me like I want to support you all the time.

"Maybe the money is how you show your affection, and I appreciate it a lot, but it's not what I like about you," you told him. "Even if you were dirt poor, I wouldn't care. I would still feel the same about you." You saw the tears falling down his cheeks and reached up to brush them away. "Are you okay, Lele? Really?"

Chenle nodded, raising his head so you could see the trembling smile on his face. "You really mean all that?"

"Yes, of course. I wouldn't lie about something like that. And I hope I can show you just as much love as you deserve."

The flood would not stop; he swiped again at his tears. "Yn, I—" I love you. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me for loving you, Chenle."

He lifted his hands up to cup your face in his hands, and he slowly brought your face to his. "Yn, can I kiss you?"

Your breath hitched in your throat. "Yeah," you nodded, "yeah, you can kiss me."

Chenle brought his mouth to yours, his salty tears on his lips and brushing against your cheeks. You slid closer to him on the piano stool and let him tilt your head back with one hand, the other sliding down your body to hold your waist. Everything about him overwhelmed your senses—the familiar scent of his expensive cologne, the feel of his hair between your fingers, his warm touch making butterflies soar in your stomach.

He slowly pulled away, forehead resting against yours as your breathing intermingled. Then he braced his hand against the stool right next to your leg and pushed himself closer to you, pressing his lips to yours once again.

Under the dull glow of the lightbulb, Chenle kissed you in the empty theater, the dead of night. His tears had dried up by now, no longer there, and he was hauling you onto his lap with your legs dangling off the side of the bench. His hands were everywhere, fingertips trailing fire through the fabric of your clothing. He was clinging onto dear life, memorizing your every curve and edge…

And you couldn't help but think of all the words he was trying to say through his actions.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐗—

Chenle did not wake up to the comfort of your weight on his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut from the light streaming through the bedroom window, and reached his arm over to the other side of the bed, only to meet cold sheets instead of your body that he could latch onto again. He groaned into the pillow and rolled over. When his eyes finally adjusted to the morning light, he sat up and let the sheets pool around his waist.

You had been sleeping over at his place for the past several nights, ever since he snuck into the theater at night to find you. You stayed here at his insistence, of course, but either he or you had to leave before the other woke up because of work, practice, or classes. Today, Friday, was Championship day.

He leaned over to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. A smile broke out onto his face at the sight of you as his lock screen. It was a picture from the opening night of The Lucky Ones, with you in that gorgeous blue gown. The two of you had taken a mirror selfie in the hallway of the theater, just before leaving for the night. His arm was settled comfortably on your waist, your body leaning into his. Your faces were hidden behind the phone, but it was enough to let anyone know that he was happily taken.

The inside home screen was just you, but much more recent. It was dinner right here in the penthouse, but caught candidly. You had been enraptured by the TV, mindlessly shoveling noodles into your mouth. He had caught the moment right before you were going to open your mouth again, with that innocent, cute dazed look in your eyes and the chopsticks of noodles held just below your chin.

He bit his lip with a smile and opened up your text chain. You had already left him a message.

bbygrl: good morning love <3 had to leave for my 8am

bbygrl: i'll c u later tonight for the game!! good luck and have a good day x

He was about to send you a message back when another notification appeared on his phone screen.

(鸡蛋 - egg ; 笨蛋 - stupid)

鸡蛋: chenle they're asking again, i can't keep stalling

笨蛋: u have to keep stalling

鸡蛋: idiot do u understand how difficult it is to withhold ur phone number from them??? AND maintain innocence???

鸡蛋: they're getting suspicious

笨蛋: uh get better at acting??? 🤨

鸡蛋: ur so fxking stupid.

Chenle exhaled sharply and swiped out of his cousin's direct texts and back to yours. Ningning was one of his closest cousins who still lived back in Shanghai. She not only took care of Daegal, but was also the person on the inside trying to stall to give him some more time. Time and freedom from what was a whole other can of worms.

lele: gm baby missed u this morning :(

bbygrl: you'll see me later

lele: ur texting in class? 🤭 bad, bad girl

lele: u should be punished

bbygrl: …if u shut up, i'll kiss u

lele: right now?? bEt

God, how did he go so long without kissing your face. He could feel the plushness of your lips on him right now, on his mouth, on his cheek, on his neck. He needed your lips stained red to stain his skin over and over again. He wanted you to scar him with your love.

bbygrl: sighs chenle go get ready for practice

lele: yes ma'am x love u

bbygrl: i love u too

And he giggled as he hopped out of bed and went to get ready for the day.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗—

Your heart was pounding as the timer on the scoreboard counted down. You were in the second half of the championship game against HYBE University, one of the up and comers lately who was just rising to popularity and in skill. They had a lot of new, talented players lately, but not enough to beat the Sentinels.

"—Choi passes to Lee! Ooh—blocked firmly by number 17, Bang Chan!"

Felix was gripping your hand tightly in his as the three of you—you, Karina, and Felix—all leaned forward in your seats to watch the game. You thought the tension was palpable during the first game of the season, but you clearly hadn't watched a championship game before. At this point, electricity buzzed through the air and the tension was so thick, you could probably cut it with a knife.

"Twenty seconds on the clock to break the tie! Number 30, Zhong, maneuvering his way through to get the ball to his teammates!"

You murmured under your breath like a prayer, "Come on, Lele. Come on, Chenle; you can do this."

Your eyes feverishly followed as Chenle dribbled the ball, only to get stopped by Lee Heeseung from Hybe U. Chenle made eye contact with Han Jisung and Park Jisung, both the only two the most open. He feigned left, then passed the ball between Heeseung and Choi Yeonjun.

In slow motion, you saw Huening Kai and Han Jisung go after the ball at the same time—then time returned to normal, fast paced vision, and Han Jisung swiped the ball and passed it to Sungchan. In a smooth alley oop, Sungchan caught the ball and dunked it into the basket.

"And the tie is broken with five seconds to spare!"

You saw the players converge on the ball under the net in an attempt to either get it to the other side in a miracle maneuver, or keep it closely guarded.

It was the latter, and victory rang through the gym with a loud air horn, along with showers of red and silver confetti.

After a brief exchange of sportsmanship from both teams, Chenle came barreling out of the crowd toward you like a bullet. Sweat glistened over the sharp planes of his grinning face, and he raked a hand through his dampened locks. You both collided together, you jumping up into his arms, him swinging you around, then kissing you firmly on the mouth. It said sincerely, earnestly, I love you.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐈—

"Hey, Chenle, how the hell did you get Yn to like you?"

Chenle lazily looked up from his phone to where Sungchan and Jisung were both gazing at him expectantly. They were all situated in Jisung and Sungchan's shared apartment at the moment, hanging out and watching the game. "It's called having a personality, Park."

Sungchan oohed at Chenle's burn, to which Jisung rolled his eyes.

Chenle laughed. "It's just one of those things, y'know? It happens if it should. If it's meant to be, it should." He shrugged, thinking about it for a moment more. "Guess I'm just really lucky."

"When did you get so sappy?" Sungchan teased as he shifted his position on the couch, smiling at his friend.

"He wasn't in love before," Jisung chimed in with a wagging finger in Chenle's direction. "So what? You're just gonna give all the credit to luck? You're one of the lucky ones?"

Chenle considered it. He picked up his can of sparkling water and dunked the rest of it down his throat. "Yeah. I mean, Yn's… Yn." He couldn't help the smile that crawled onto his face. "I got her attention at first, but I think I'm lucky she didn't just blow me off because I sounded like a douche."

Jisung snorted. "That you are."

Chenle rolled his eyes. "Shut up, singleton."

"Ugh, look what married life has done to you!" Sungchan groaned jokingly. "You gotta help me, dude. I wanna find true love."

"Only if you're serious."

Jisung wrinkled his nose and stood up to walk over to the kitchen and pour himself another glass of whatever he was drinking. "True love's dumb, but Yn's cool."

"Yn is cool," Sungchan agreed. "Chenle is not."

Chenle scowled, then rose from his seat. "I'm done being bullied by you two losers."

As he showed himself out of their cozy apartment, he heard Sungchan yell, "Say hi to Bestie Yn for me!" Chenle tsked under his breath and shook his head. But yes, going to see you would be a fantastic idea.

He quickly glanced at his phone for the time—4:59pm. He could probably swing by that chicken place you really liked and catch you for dinner. With a plan in his mind's eye, he hurried down to his car and sped off.

Chenle was coming out of the fried chicken eatery just a few blocks from your apartment when his phone lit up with an incoming call. He dumped the takeout bag into the front seat, but frowned down at the unknown number. He wasn't expecting a call, but he figured there was no harm in answering.

"Hello?"

"Son, it's been a while since I've heard your voice."

Chenle immediately hung up and blocked the number. He knew it was no use since they had his number now, but it made him feel slightly better as he took off toward your apartment. The whole way there, numbers continued to call his phone; he would probably have to power off his phone while he was up there with you, or just leave it here, in the car.

But when the stupid thing would not stop buzzing, he parked in your complex parking lot and picked up the call again.

"What do you want?"

A muscle feathered in his jaw as his father spoke on the other end. "That is a terrible way to greet your father, Chenle. We've been trying to reach you for several months now."

Chenle poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He knew. "Yeah, and you have my number now." Unfortunately.

"You will be coming to the Spring Gala in May, won't you? I've already put you down as—"

"I'm not."

His father paused. "Excuse me?"

Chenle glared out the front windshield of his car. "I said I'm not. I don't have time to fly back and forth for that and school. And I don't want any part of whatever business scheme you and Mom want to drag me into."

There was a beat of silence on the other end, and Chenle was so close to calling it a victory. "You will fly back home and attend the gala, Zhong Chenle. You can make up for your schoolwork later. You have a future—a business to run."

"Against what will? My own." Chenle scoffed as he glanced at the car's clock on the console. He had to go now if he was gonna catch you before you actually started eating dinner. He grabbed the bag of chicken, squeezing his phone between his shoulder and ear, as he climbed out of the car. "I already know what's going to happen as soon as I get there. I refuse to acknowledge that I have a fiancée when I didn't even propose to her."

His father let out a disgruntled, irritated sigh. "Chenle—"

"No."

"Stop interrupting me—"

Chenle rolled his eyes as he pulled the phone away from his ear as his father lectured away on the other side of the phone. He silently counted to twenty in his head, kicking the lobby door of your apartment complex shut behind him, then trudged up the stairs with his other hand holding a bag of takeout. He pressed the phone to his ear. "Are you finished?"

"Zhong Chenle, have some manners and respect—"

Chenle nearly growled into the phone. "You want to talk manners and respect? How about not forcing me to marry a woman I'm not in love with? What is this? The 1800s?"

There was one more flight of stairs left and Chenle's voice echoed against the walls. He always complained about how your apartment complex lacked an elevator, and you would always reply with something sassy like "climb up the window then" or "buy them an elevator or something". The irony was that he could buy the landlord an elevator if he wanted to. But that would definitely be a bit of overkill.

And everything was perfect. Even without an elevator.

Well, so far. His father was threatening to screw everything up again, but Chenle liked to think he had everything under control.

"An alliance with Jin Tech is imperative."

"And marriage is the answer?" Chenle scoffed as he bursted onto your floor. He nodded and smiled a hello to one of your neighbors as he passed, before lowering his voice and hissing into the phone. "Nevermind. I don't have time for this now or ever. I'm not coming home so you and Mom can just ship me off to some woman I don't even know the name of!"

"Her name is Alice Jin—"

"I really don't care."

"I will disown you if you don't come home and meet your fiancée," his father's tone firm and stone cold serious. Chenle wasn't afraid of many things, but that tone made a shiver crawl down his back. "That's a promise."

He opened his mouth, ready to say something back so that his father didn't think those words affected him in any way—

"Lele?"

Chenle slammed his thumb against the end call button, slapping a smile onto his face. You were just unlocking your apartment with your hair falling in gentle waves down your shoulders and your small purse slung over your shoulder. "Baby!"

You smiled at him, unknowing and oblivious to the call he had just hung up on. You peered at him curiously. "Hi, honey, what're you doing here?"

"Eating dinner with you, silly," he chirped, breezing past you into your apartment. He set the bag on your kitchen table, already pulling containers out. "Thought I'd swing by 'cause I missed you at lunch, and I was on my way home and your favorite chicken place was just—well, there. So I obviously had to get some for you… what?"

You pursed your lips, an amused look settled on your pretty features. Jeez, you were so pretty. "Are you okay? You're a bit… frazzled right now."

Chenle's cheery expression dropped for a millisecond as his mind flashed back to the phone call. Come home for the spring gala. Meet your fiancée. But his grin was back in an instant. "Yeah, I'm good." He flicked his wrist, a brief dismissal of the subject, then suddenly pulled you into a hug. Shoving his face into the crook of your neck, he tried to suppress the wave of guilt and dread building up in his stomach. "Just missed you, baby."

Your warm arms came around him as you gently rubbed his back. "Oh, I missed you, too, Lele."

You won't when you find out, he thought to himself.

But for now, as you and him sat down together to have dinner, as he took in your laughter and smiling face, as he remembered all of the reasons why he fell in love with you… he could fool himself into thinking that this could be his forever.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐈𝐈—

Disownment. The word reverberated around in Chenle's skull as he sat in his desk chair at home, computer open. The screen displayed the Shanghai Airlines website page, his cursor primed over the "confirm" button. The page detailed a round-trip flight to Shanghai's Pudong International Airport, set for the Sunday night of spring break to the Saturday morning right before it ended. He didn't want to spend any more time than he needed to be.

This would be this upcoming weekend, which was happening far too soon, now that he thought about it. He couldn't… how was going to do this without the people he had around him now? He would have Ningning, and that was about it. Kun hardly went back home now, and you… oh god, what was he going to tell you?

Chenle buried his face in his hands, rubbed them over his eyes, wanted to wash everything away and to shut everything up. What was he going to do?

He reached over to the touchpad of his laptop and pressed the confirmation button. He might as well have signed away his freedom if he stepped foot back in Shanghai, but—that ten letter word haunted him to his core.

He couldn't breathe. Jesus Christ, he needed to breathe.

His phone buzzed from the table and sent his soul flying out of his body for a second. But then he saw your pretty face in the caller ID and knew the pounding of his heart wasn't just from anxiety, but from the pure feeling he had for you.

Without hesitation, he answered. "Hi baby. What's up?"

Your beautiful voice met his ears, like the voices of heaven. He stared at the confirmation for his flight on the laptop screen. "Hey honey, what're you up to?"

He swallowed, scratching the nape of his neck, then closed the lid of his laptop. "I'm, uhm, I actually just booked a flight back to Shanghai." He cleared his throat and walked away from the laptop, toward the window in the living room overlooking the city. "I'm going back for Spring Break."

"Oh, that's great! Sounds like so much fun, Lele."

If only you knew. "Yeah," he said half-heartedly.

You sensed his tone and told him gently, "Hey, are you getting enough sleep? I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out at the office with me, but I'd rather you catch up on—"

"No, I'll be there." He was already halfway out the door, keys and jacket and wallet swiped on the way out. "I really need to get out of this apartment," he chuckled. "I'll meet you there? Or I can pick you up."

"I'm here already," you admitted cheekily. "I'll see you in five, love."

Chenle hummed. "See you then, baby. Love you."

"Love you, too. Drive safe."

When you hung up, he tucked his phone away to race off toward the university theater. On his way, however, he swung by the drive-thru Starbucks to grab you something to drink. Knowing you and the theater office, you would be there until you were literally drooling over manuscripts and bills. And knowing him, he would probably be knocked out as soon as he sat down.

He was striding in through the performer's entrance, passing by plenty of students and peers who he recognized ever since you and him became a "thing". But generally, as he greeted people he passed warmly and who greeted him the same way, he thought that he had been accepted here. His heart clenched at the thought. He had a basketball family, he had a community, he had his friends, he had you. What would happen in Shanghai? Would it change his entire life?

Knocking briefly on your closed door, he swiftly let himself into the room. Your head perked up at his entrance, and even more so at the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Oh my god, I love you!" You gasped, making grabby hands.

Chenle grinned, eyes smiling just like his mouth. You were so cute. He shook his head, pulling the coffee out of reach from you. "Nuh-uh, I want my compensation first."

You pouted, but you leaned up to press a kiss to his mouth. "Thank you, Lele. You're so thoughtful." You took the warm cup from him and took a careful sip.

He plopped into the seat across from you with a satisfied hum. "So what're you working overtime on today?"

"What do you mean overtime?" You asked innocently, your head already bowed over your documents.

"You know exactly what I mean." Chenle stood up and rounded the desk. Before you could object, he was lifting you off your chair. He sat himself in it, then placed you onto his lap. He peered over your shoulder. "Ew, why is that deadline so soon?"

You deadpanned. "That's exactly why I have to work overtime. The idiot at the office likes to give me this shit two weeks too late."

Chenle dug his nose into your neck to let the comforting smell of your perfume calm him down. Disownment. Shanghai. Fiancée. You. "Mm, the bastard. Want me to go talk to him?"

"No, it's okay. I'm good at making deadlines."

His mind wandered off to those skyscrapers across the Yellow Sea. Five days away from here. Things could change in five days. "Do you think you'd be done by dinner? We could go out to eat."

You made a noise of approval. "Yeah, I can be done by then. Any ideas?"

"You can choose. I just have an idea for afterwards. A moment of spontaneity, if you will."

You laughed. "We're planning it out beforehand, honey, that's not spontaneity."

Chenle pouted into your skin, wrapped his arms around you, and draped his body over your back. He watched your pen twirl and spin through your fingers. "Close enough."

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈—

The last thing you thought Chenle would do was drive you to some random neighborhood and to its sketchy basketball court, caged in the classic wire fencing and with amber street lights as its only light source. It was perhaps nine o'clock at night, and you had just finished eating dinner (finishing that document had taken a little longer than anticipated, but Chenle had seemed content to wait). The sky had darkened to a midnight cobalt, and you couldn't really see the stars, but it was a clear night out.

Chenle parked along the curb just across from the gate and was already tearing his seatbelt off.

You balked for just a moment. "Uhhhh, is this where I get murdered and dumped in an abandoned parking lot?"

He rolled his eyes. "Aish, you're so dramatic," he joked, tugging at your hand, "come on. I have a ball in the trunk."

The car door slammed shut on his side after he climbed out, and you were left in the silence of the empty car. Was that euphemism or…?

You slapped your hand to your forehead; you spent way too much time with Chenle. Not sparing another moment thinking about it, you followed Chenle out into the cool night. He was already hunched over the trunk of his car, digging through his basketball duffle bag.

"Jesus, you need to wash that thing," you grimaced, taking a step back.

He only laughed, pulling a basketball out of seemingly nowhere and slamming the trunk closed. He locked the car, offering his free hand to you. "I'm doing laundry before I leave," he reassured.

"I'd hope so," you muttered and faked a gag.

As Chenle pushed past the gate, you took a second to really look around at your surroundings. It was a classic neighborhood park with a playground over a little ways down the path, a grassy hill for kids and dogs to run around on, and of course, this court. There was a tennis court connected to it on one side of the fence, too.

Chenle released your hand and started to dribble as soon as his foot hit the faded lines outlining the basketball court on the grey cement. He dribbled the ball all the way to the three pointer line, stopped, then shot.

Nothing but net.

He grinned at you. "Easy enough. Your turn."

You sent him an incredulous look. "I don't think so."

He made a face, jogging over to get the ball back and to dribble it over toward you. He passed it, letting it bounce once before you caught it in your hands. It seemed like a very high quality (?) basketball, like it wouldn't deflate on you. To be honest, you probably hadn't touched a basketball since high school, and you told Chenle as much.

"Well, that's why I'm here, silly," he said and guided you over and across the court so you stood at midcourt. "Remember how to dribble?"

"I do." And you idly began dribbling the ball in place, using the pads of your fingers to push the ball down against the cement.

"Good," he praised. "Now dribble up to inner court."

"Say please," you stuck your tongue out at him over your shoulder, but walked and dribbled the ball all the way to the inner court. You figured you probably couldn't make a basket from the three pointer line anyway.

Once you were at inner court, you stopped the ball in your hands and made a sad attempt at shooting the ball into the net. It rebounded hard off the rim, and Chenle stopped it midair with one hand. He passed it to his other before returning it to the cement to be dribbled.

"That was cute."

You wrinkled your nose at him. "Oh, shut up."

He chuckled, placing the ball back into your hands. He stood behind you and guided your arms in the correct form. His voice was seated right by your ear, the warmth of his breath sending zaps of energy down your spine and to your curling toes. "You just need to follow through. Like this."

His hands moved yours to mimic correct shooting technique. Then he added, "You want to make sure when you shoot, your hands follow through and send it where it should be. If your hands aren't directed toward the hoop, it probably won't go in."

You nodded, and once you felt him take a step back, you tried again. You let the ball boost off the page of your fingertips once more, this time, keeping your follow-through. The ball didn't make it in the hoop, but it rolled around the rim once before slipping off the edge.

"Damn," you murmured and went to retrieve it.

"That was a lot better though," Chenle said with a glimmer in his eyes. You could feel the excitement and amusement rolling off him in waves. "Try again."

And you did. Until you made a stupid basket.

"Yes, yes, yes! Let's go!" You shouted, jumping for absolute fucking joy. Your grinning face met his as you stomped your foot on the ground in victory. "Did you see that? I finally got one!"

Chenle chuckled, nodding and indulging you with applause. "I did, baby. I'm proud of you."

The two of you would end up passing the ball around to each other, one of you taking a shot here or there. He taught you how to play Horse, too, and eventually, he went to get a mini Bluetooth speaker from his magical dufflebag to play some music.

"This is not fair!" You growled, nearly climbing up him like a tree as he held the basketball high above his head. "Chenle!"

Your boyfriend giggled like a maniac, not even bothering to fend you off as you braced your arms on his shoulders and tried to hoist yourself up. You clawed at the air in desperate attempts to get the ball from him, but the bastard was messing with you. "You're almost there, Yn-ie! Look!"

You were not.

You glared at him.

Chenle's laughter faded just a little bit. "Okay, okay. I'll give you the ball back if I get my compensation."

"That sounds familiar," you said, easily going up to him. You hauled him down by his neck, despite his squawk of surprise, and kissed him. As you pulled back, your teeth nipped his bottom lip.

His thumb came up to graze his bottom lip, tongue licking it, eyes growing darker. "Come here."

You giggled, backing away. "No."

"Yn," he said while slowly approaching you like a predator to his prey. He set the basketball down. "Come here, baby."

"No, no, no—AH!" Your laughter filled the night air as you darted off across the court, making a large loop around the wired perimeter. Chenle was hot on your tail the entire time, his own laughter intermingling with yours.

You were heaving for breath (goddamn, you were out of shape), and so clearly, Chenle caught you. He wound his arms around you, caged you in his embrace. You squealed, squirming in his hold, but he held fast and tight.

It was at this moment that both Chenle and you recognized the song playing. It was an old one, the lyrics prefaced by the melody of trumpets and violins.

"You know how to waltz, Zhong?"

He pulled a smile, but it was like there was something sad in it. "Ballroom dance. But yeah."

You mocked a curtsy to him. "May I have this dance then?"

He answered you by holding out his hand for you to take. You placed your right hand in his, and he guided you to the middle of the basketball court. You placed your left hand on his shoulder, his free hand on your waist. And you both marked the three-fourths time before stepping into the sway of a waltz.

You let your cheek rest against his chest as he pulled you closer and you were just swaying to the beat. Chenle rested the side of his cheek against your head, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

You could hear the speed of his heart, the quickness of its beat.

"Lele."

"Mhm."

"I love you."

His heartbeat quickened under your ear. Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump.

He swallowed. "Yn, I love you, too."

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐈𝐕—

"Oh my god, how does Chenle stand you? You're so boooooring, Yn." Felix groaned from where he laid upside down on your couch. His socked feet were sticking up the back, giving you a strange view from your vantage point in the kitchen.

You had just dropped Chenle off at the airport to head off to Shanghai about an hour ago. He had been an awful lot clingier the past few days leading up to the trip, but you supposed you understood since he would be leaving Seoul after being here for so long. New-old environments could be weird.

You were a little worried about him, but maybe that was just the thought of being away from him for five days. You'd gone days without seeing each other, but that was because you frequently called and texted. You didn't know what he'd be doing in Shanghai, but you were sure you could pick up any call he dialled. You weren't doing anything spectacular this break anyway.

In response to Felix, you said nothing. Instead, you marched over to the couch and flicked the arches of his feet.

He helped in surprise, using his miraculous abdominal muscles to haul his head up from the ground to glare at you. "Hey! Rude."

"Hey you," you snorted. You collapsed on the couch next to him. "And I am not boring. I just haven't hung out with you in a while solo."

Karina was going to visit her home in Gyeonggi-do for the week, so Felix had temporarily become your roommate. He didn't plan to visit Australia until summer break hit. It was just the two of you, but you were alright with that. You and Felix still worked at the café together anyway; it would just be fully you two for a week now.

Felix grumbled and pulled himself onto the couch to sit upright. "I know. You and Chenle are so busy being disgustingly in love. I mean, you can date someone and still hang out with your favorite Australian, can't you?"

"I think I like Chan better—I'msorrydon'thurtme!" You squealed, leaping from the couch when he feigned pouncing at you.

He settled in his spot again, pouting, but he reminded you of Mofy Duck as you looked at him. "But you and Chenle seem to be getting really serious though, yeah?"

You sat back down on the couch and sighed in content. "Yeah. I dunno, Lix. I think… you know—I'd spend my whole life with him."

"Really?" He pocketed his phone and so the two of you zoned into the conversation. "I mean, no, that's fantastic. It's great, Yn. And I'm so happy for you. I did not think that Chenle sauntering through the door of the café that day would end in something like this, but… I think it's beautiful, what you two have, I mean."

"Oh, thank you Lix. That means a lot." You pulled your knees up to your chest. "He really does saunter, huh."

Felix pressed his lips together, nodding. "He does."

You and Felix shared a laugh. You hoped Chenle was going to have a good time in Shanghai. In an hour, hopefully, you would receive word from him that he had safely landed.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐕—

Chenle wanted to leave. He wanted to leave now.

There was nothing wrong with the city of Shanghai. God, he had missed this place, with all of the smells and sights and feelings. It was his childhood, where he had grown up. He would have loved to bring you here one day.

The plane had landed, safely and smoothly, as per usual. As soon as he had access to signal, he was shooting you text after text, before his family's hired security company was carting him off into a black SUV. He would have preferred to drive himself, but he supposed this allowed him to text back and forth with you.

He didn't want to give away his displeasure about being here to you, so he took pictures of the city sights he passed by, described any and all of the food smells he detected, and sent them all to you. It was like you were right next to him, experiencing all of this yourself. He knew it wouldn't live up to the real thing, but he would make do.

He knew he drew closer to the family apartments even before they got off the highway. He could feel the thrum of the coast, could see the grey sea in the distance, then the dark and cream tiled roofs of the apartments. They were built in a modern spin on traditional Chinese architecture, and they had become very familiar to Chenle.

The family apartments were not the typical apartment complexes like the one you lived in, but a row of small houses pressed up against each other to squeeze into the limited space of Shanghai's city limits. Each house-apartment was built with luxury and comfort in mind, however, and each apartment featured a connected backyard space that looked out at the sea view. Backyards were separated by large hedges for privacy, as well.

Chenle's foot hit the car floor rapidly as the car approached the first apartment. He didn't expect his parents to be waiting outside for his arrival or to be there at the airport to pick him up; he was hardly surprised at this point. It just made everything easier to swallow.

Bags were pulled out of the trunk, and Chenle reluctantly trudged up the steps into his family home.

It was just as he remembered: dark oak floors, traditional poetry and paintings hung on the walls, his mother's pet project Bonsai trees scattered about hallway tables. It was like walking through a time capsule; that was how stuck in the past his family was.

He feared a collision course with his family earlier than was necessary, and escaped up to his room where he could probably have at least a couple minutes of calm before the storm. Or, at least until Ningning came with Daegal. He grabbed his backpack and suitcase, then hightailed it up the stairs.

As he locked himself in his room, he felt his phone buzz to life once more.

鸡蛋: hey loser i'm almost there

鸡蛋: i think bb daegal can sense that she's going to c u

-

bbygrl: *image sent* here's my pet chick for the week

bbygrl: he says *i'm* the boring one 😒 and he fell asleep on the couch

bbygrl: u better send pics of daegal 🤨🔪

Chenle settled on the edge of his bed, still crisp and made from when he left. Nothing else had been touched over the course of the years he hadn't been here, but it was still nostalgic enough. All the posters of NBA players, the keyboard in the corner.

笨蛋: well i'm excited to see her too

笨蛋: and ig u too..

-

lele: jeez say pls first baby :/

lele: haha u should write loser on his forehead

bbygrl: i knew there was a reason y i liked u 😁

lele: uH HELLAUR??

There was a knock on the door. "Chenle xiansheng, Ning xiaojie has arrived."

He didn't recognize the voice from the other side, but figured his parents had hired a few more staff members for the household since he left. "Oh, uh, send her up, please. Thank you!"

The footsteps withdrew from the door, and Chenle set his phone on the bedside table.

He stood up, walking over to the floor to ceiling window that doubled as a balcony door. It looked out at the sea from here. Chenle braced his hand against the doorframe and gazed out. Maybe he should send you a picture of the waves as they pulled and pushed along the shoreline.

"Jesus, you look like you're in some bad C-drama." The door opened to his room without a knock, followed by the tap-tap-tap of little paws along wood and an ebullient bark. "That's the most excited she's been in awhile."

Chenle whirled around and knelt to the ground as a furry white blur came crashing into him. He chuckled, hugging Daegal to his chest as she lapped at his face. "Hi Daegal. I missed you," he cooed.

Ning Yizhuo, Chenle's cousin from Harbin, stood in the doorway with a smile on her face. Her long hair was dyed a fiery red, just like her attitude. While her parents were partners at Chenle's parents' company, she wouldn't get a piece of the pie due to "traditional" inheritance rules. It was stupid, but now, she modeled for luxury brands and designed her own clothes, too. Chenle might find her irritating at times, but he had always admired her strength and independence.

He raised his head up to her as he picked Daegal up in his arms. "Thanks for watching over her." His hand idly ran through her fur and scratched behind her ears.

Ningning nodded, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She closed his bedroom door behind her. "How's life, cousin? Seoul treating you well?"

"It's…" he sighed. "It's better than I could've ever imagined."

"That's good to hear," then she added, "I'm glad you've enjoyed your freedom."

Chenle's mood soured, and he set Daegal down. The dog scurried around his legs once or twice before giving up and running over to jump into his bed.

Ningning lowered onto the edge of his bed and massaged Daegal's stomach. "Sorry, that's probably a bad way to put it."

"No, it's all right. That's pretty much what it is, right?" He shook his head and picked up his phone again. He went back to the window and snapped a quick picture of the view to send to you.

lele: *image sent* it's prettier when it's sunny

bbygrl: it's still pretty when it's gray

lele: i think ur prettier anyway

bbygrl: always a flatterer aren't u?

lele: what can i say? give compliments where compliments r due ;)

"Does she make you happy?"

Chenle snapped out of her daze, the smile still evident on his face. "Huh?"

Ningning inclined her head to his phone. "I'm guessing that's your girlfriend. Or partner."

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Yeah, she's… yeah. You better not—"

"I thought you knew me better than that, Chenle." She arched a brow at him in slight teasing. But there was that sadness in her eyes, too. Chenle knew why. Even if she wasn't getting her parents' company, she still had their name. She was subject to just about the same rules as he was.

"Right. Sorry."

"So what are you gonna do?" Ningning asked him. "You know that they're gonna make you meet her at least once while you're here. I bet they have some kind of dinner planned already."

That wasn't even a question in Chenle's mind. His five days here were going to be the busiest and most exhausting five days of his life, probably. He could see it now, meal after meeting after meal after meeting. His parents were going to soak the life out of him while they could. And then some.

Another knock on the door. "Chenle xiansheng, your parents would like to see you in their home office."

Chenle inwardly cursed. He'd hoped they would let him settle in first. "Hao ah, thank you. Give me five minutes."

Once the footsteps had left, Ningning brushed a hand over Daegal's coat. "Need moral support?"

"When do I not need moral support to talk to my parents?" He joked. Chenle slipped his phone into his pocket, scratched Daegal's head one more time, then left the room.

As he walked down the hallway and down the steps again toward his parents' home office, Chenle willed his heart to slow. His hands were even getting clammy and he wondered how he'd grown so soft in his time away that he was like a kid again in this house. Where was the spine he'd grown? He'd need it before facing the wolves this week.

Chenle brushed a hand through his hair as he stood before the engraved doors to the home office. It was in the shape of a circle, split directly down the middle. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door and pushed the doors open.

There were three people standing inside the office, surrounding the big mahogany desk at the far wall. He recognized his father in the office chair and his mother standing at his side. The young woman standing across from them was familiar, but he couldn't put a name to the face. Then again, there were very few options as to who she was racing through the forefront of his mind.

He had a sneaking suspicion.

"Ah, my son has finally graced us with his presence." His father did not stand, did not smile. "Close the door."

Say please. Chenle closed the door. As he approached slowly, his nod of greeting was more akin to a bow. "Fumuhao." (fùmù = formal word for parents; hǎo = a form of greeting lol idrk how to explain it)

"At least he has some manners left," his father commented.

Chenle's jaw clenched.

"Well," his father continued, "I suppose I should not dawdle any longer. Chenle, meet Miss Jin."

The young woman bowed shallowly to him in greeting and he returned the gesture. Her expression was the dictionary definition of polite.

"She's your fiancée."

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐕𝐈—

You felt like your stomach was about to explode. Dazed and half comatose, you reached for the remote and lowered the volume of whatever romcom was playing on the TV now. Felix's head was slumped over on the other side of the couch, light snores emitting from his parted lips. The smell of brownies filled and lingered in the apartment air, making you sigh in content. You wondered why Felix never started a brownie business.

You reached for your phone, which had been discarded on the couch cushions beside your body, and you picked it up. No messages, no missed calls. This had been the same thing for the past day and a half. Absolute radio silence from Chenle.

And you were… happy? At least, you thought you were, but only because this had to be an indication that he was having fun. Right?

You weren't too sure and you thought he would at least send you a check up message to assure you he was alive. This wasn't very… Chenle of him? But you didn't want to bother, and you had slowed down your messages for a bit.

You bit your lip, hesitantly typing out another few words to send.

you: hey honey just woke up from a post-brownie hangover lmao u really need to try lix's brownies

you: hope ur having fun over there! :) love you

"He still hasn't responded?"

You shook your head, as Felix drowsily pulled himself from dream land. His eyes fluttered and squinted to adjust to the light of the TV screen. The sky outside the apartment was dark, since the two of you had chosen to stay in this afternoon to make brownies. Then you both crashed in a food coma until now.

"He's probably just really busy," you told him, mainly trying to convince yourself. You feigned nonchalance as you tossed your phone back onto the couch and stood up. "Want some water? I think I need to flush out all the sugar I inhaled earlier," you mused.

Felix cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah. That's a good idea. Get me some please?"

"Sure." You pulled two glasses from the cabinet and filled them with water from the filtered dispenser into the fridge.

Felix called from the couch. "I think you got a message."

You nearly dropped both glasses right there.

He chuckled as you messily handed him both cups to pick up your phone.

lele: sorry i haven't been able to text u babe

lele: save some brownies for me tho 😞 love u too x

A smile bloomed on your face like the rising of the sun. He was okay.

you: dw abt it love! i'll c u in a few days x

You knew you probably wouldn't get a text back right away, but a girl could hope.

Felix noticed the shift in your mood. He scratched the side of his neck, peering down at his phone. "Chan's hosting a small get-together at his dorm. You think you're up for it? We don't have to go if you don't want to."

But you could see that Felix was itching to do something. And that he believed this might help you. It would do no good sitting around moping about your boyfriend who was gone. Where was your independent self now? You gave him a nod and stood up again, stretching your arms over your head. "Yeah, we can go. I'll go put on something presentable."

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈—

The tie around Chenle's neck was practically a noose. He had a terrible feeling that if he wasn't on his toes, the fabric would tighten around his neck and keep squeezing. The sky outside his window was already dark like the abyss, meaning the charity gala being held here had begun. He could hear cars pulling up to the driveway and guests chattering below. His parents were supposed to be announcing his return soon, so he just bided his time upstairs until he was needed.

Somebody knocked gently on the door, and he was mentally preparing himself to be summoned downstairs.

"Chenle xiansheng, it's Jin xiaojie. Could I… speak with you for a moment?"

He couldn't tell if this was better or worse. But then again, the brief and polite conversations he'd had with Alice Jin over the past couple of days had been okay to say the least. She was quiet, not timid, but she didn't say anything that wasn't expected of her. He figured she was in the same boat as him.

"Uhm, yeah. You can come in." Chenle scratched the back of his neck instead of raking his hand through his freshly done hair. He stood awkwardly in the middle of his own childhood bedroom as he watched Alice slip inside and quietly close the door behind her.

She was pretty, actually. She had a heart shaped face and high cheekbones, with her dark hair partly pulled into an elegant hairdo. She wore an embroidered red qipao that accentuated her slim figure, but put her as the center of all of your parents' standards. It was no wonder they were so eager to welcome her to the family.

But he loved you, not her; he didn't even know her, other than their fates were inexplicably intertwined now.

"I'm going to speak freely," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. "You and I both don't want this."

He huffed, leaning against the edge of his desk. "No kidding."

"But we have to." Those words settled uncomfortably in his chest. The truth was so difficult to swallow. "And we have to put on a show for those pigs out there, no matter what our true feelings are." She spat out the word pigs with the most emotion Chenle had ever experienced from her. It made him listen really closely.

Alice released a trembling breath. "My parents made me break up with my boyfriend for this, and I'm guessing you must have had a partner, too?"

"I still have one," he corrected. For now. Oh my god, he needed to text you back.

She pursed her lips. "Well, good for you, I guess."

He thought he heard bitterness in her tone, and maybe a hint of sadness. He felt guilt rise in his throat; she had already let go of her boyfriend, but he couldn't bring himself to let you go. He didn't want to, not yet. You were one of the best things that had happened to him.

"This is going to be weird for us, trust me, I know." Alice turned her gaze out to the window, staring out into the obsidian night sky and the infinitely dark sea. "But… I figured you could pretend I'm her, and I could pretend you're him."

Chenle rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay. Yeah, okay." He could do this. He could do this, right?

"They're gonna need us to come out soon. We need to be there when they announce our engagement anyway," she laughed wryly.

That made him pause. "Wait what? I thought they were just announcing my return?"

Alice furrowed her brows at him. "Surely you didn't just think that, Chenle? This isn't a charity gala; it's our engagement party."

Fucking hell. Chenle swore, wanting to scoop his eyeballs out. That meant there was press here specifically to report on how he had a fiancée. This was not good. He didn't know how he had convinced himself that the press wouldn't focus too much on him, but on the charity gala as per usual. He was a certified idiot.

"Chenle, you need to breathe."

He felt her hands planted firmly on his shoulders. She was standing too close, too close—

Alice backed away, apology in her eyes. "You really thought they wouldn't publicise it and hark on the opportunity?"

"I was optimistic." And stupid.

His phone buzzed.

"You should answer her," she told him, gesturing to his device on the nightstand. "But we need to go afterward."

He nodded and swiped his phone up. A small smile pulled at his lips as he read through the words you sent. He quickly sent back a couple messages, wishing he could see your face for some semblance of strength. When he was done, he left the phone on the nightstand again.

Chenle swallowed his pride and offered Alice his arm. She graciously linked her arm with his.

"Ready to go put on our first performance?" She asked. The smile on her face looked loving, but he saw the sad empathy in the fine lines.

He tried his best to return that expression, to channel as much love for you he had and to show that to her. "Ready as I'll ever be."

The two of them walked out of the bedroom together as staff rushed to and fro, hurrying past or allowing them to pass. They received compliments to their cleaned up appearances and elegance, and they accepted all of the comments with perfect decorum. As they were expected to do.

Alice suddenly stopped before they were about to round the corner to the stairway. Chenle could hear the sounds of chatter and laughter from downstairs.

"Oh, I almost forgot." She glanced up at him, murmuring softly with that same smile plastered on her face. "Did your parents give you the ring?"

"Ring?" Chenle didn't recall receiving one, but he patted down the pockets of his suit. He wasn't even surprised when he found a diamond ring in the top left inside pocket of his suit blazer. The massive rock glistened in the hallway lights. He imagined what it might have been like if he was putting the ring on your finger instead of hers.

The ring slipped onto Alice's ring finger perfectly. Like his parents had measured her finger to the millimeter and had been curated especially for her.

Alice tested the ring's weight, curling her fingers and examining the diamond's luster. "I once wanted to become a geologist when I was a kid."

"I wanted to be in the NBA," he chuckled. "Guess we all have dreams."

Alice considered him for a moment with a sideways smile. "We're gonna be okay, Chenle. We'll make it through tonight."

He nodded. "I know. Thanks." Just pretend it's Yn. You can do this, Chenle.

They returned their arms to each other, each taking a deep breath in. Then the two of them rounded the corner and met the wolves with blinding lights and pretty masks.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈—

Thursday morning, you woke up to the sound of murmuring outside your bedroom door. You groggily noted the sunlight streaming through your window and estimated that it was probably late afternoon. You and Felix had been out late last night at Bang Chan's apartment, playing Cards Against Humanity and bonding with a few of Chenle's basketball teammates, Felix's dance team, and others as well.

—Was that Karina's voice out there?

You tossed your covers back and stumbled out of your room, half dazed on sleep.

Karina and Felix were conversing at the kitchen counter, solemn expressions on their faces. Karina's suitcase sat by the door as if she had just gotten back from the airport. Felix buried his face into his hands and you wondered what was going on.

"Hey Karina, I didn't think you'd be back until later tonight," you said, shuffling over to hug your friend.

Karina hugged you tight. "Hey, Ynie. Yeah, I was supposed to fly in tonight, but… uhm, something came up." She exchanged a glance with Felix.

You frowned, looking between them. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah!" Felix stammered. "I was just talking to Karina about our work schedule for next week. Boss put me on extra hours."

You immediately frowned. "Wait what? Did he ask you beforehand?"

"No, but—"

"Let me talk to him," you offered, already hurrying back into your room to find your phone. "He knows you have a dance competition coming up."

Karina and Felix's faces drained of their blood and they chased after you, wide-eyed in panic. "Yn, wait! Don't look at your—phone…"

They stopped in the middle of your bedroom. You were hunched over your nightstand, nose deep in your phone. You were frozen, heart sinking into your stomach. Your phone had been blowing up while you were asleep with people sending you some clippings of some headlines. Most of the headlines were in Mandarin, but there were a couple in Korean.

"ZHONG CHENLE AND JIN ALICE: ENGAGED"

"ZHONG CORPORATIONS AND JIN TECH TO BE BROUGHT TOGETHER IN HOLY MATRIMONY"

"CHENLE & ALICE: READ ALL ABOUT THEIR LOVE EXPRESSED AT THEIR ENGAGEMENT PARTY"

You could feel arms around you, holding you close against their chest. Then another set pulling you toward them, too. Was this real? It had to be, right? There were too many different sources that it couldn't have been fake. And too many people had sent it to her, asking about your relationship and if you were aware.

No, you weren't aware.

Goddamn, how could you have known? Just last night, you thought you were still in a loving, healthy relationship. Now? Apparently your boyfriend was engaged to another woman.

The phone was wrenched from your fingers and you were guided to sit on your bed. Breathe, breathe, breathe—

"Yn? Honey, do you want some water? Some space?" Karina asked softly, kneeling down in front of you so she met your eyes.

You blankly shook your head, wiped your eyes. "I need to ask him—" You cleared your congested throat, "—I need to get a hold of him. I want to know how he's gonna explain this to me."

I want him to say it to my face.

Felix frowned sympathetically. "Yn, I don't think that's…"

"Lix, give her the phone, please," Karina said. She held out her hand and Felix placed the device into her palm. She passed it to you and monitored you as you furiously pulled up his text message chain.

you: hey can we talk? pls?

you: I just want to know what's going on I'm so confused

you: if u want to break up w me, have some dignity and do it to my face

You trembled as a response came in, but you couldn't tell if it was from anger, sadness, panic, or all three.

lele: don't contact this number anymore

Then he blocked you.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐈𝐗—

You were probably insane, but at this exact moment in time, you convinced yourself that you were in the right. You deserved closure. And if Zhong Chenle lacked the balls to come to you and explain it to you himself, then you would march right up to his stupid penthouse apartment and give him a piece of your goddamn mind.

Chenle had been back from Shanghai for the past two days—it was currently the Monday after spring break. There had been nothing from him, as you expected. You were bound to take matters into your own hands to see exactly what went wrong. A handful of Chenle's friends who you had got acquainted with like Park Jisung and Jung Sungchan had reached out to you. They were really nice about it all, but couldn't offer any more information than you already knew. It seemed like no one knew what the hell was going on except for Chenle.

As a now engaged man—you thought of that title bitterly—he probably had the whole world's eyes on him. If he went to see you, everyone would pounce on the opportunity at a scandal. It was a disaster in the making. But maybe you needed a disaster. You'd felt far too helpless lately.

The doorman at Chenle's apartment greeted you warmly, and you made sure to wish him well. After all, he wasn't the one who deserved your wrath.

As you rose up in the elevator, you drummed your fingers nervously against the seam of your jeans. You had been rehearsing what you were gonna say ever since you woke up this morning, ready to hurt someone. You were adamant about getting your closure, and you knew Chenle didn't have classes until noon. So that gave you three hours to get shit settled.

The elevator arrived with a cheerful and metallic ding on his floor.

"Hello? Who—oh."

There he was, standing in slippers and his pajamas in the middle of the living room. He seemed surprised to see you for a moment, but that emotion vanished in an instant. You didn't recognize this Chenle. Fundamentally, nothing had changed about him, but you felt the shift. You felt the discomfort and tension, worse than it was at the Championship game. (That felt so long ago now.)

"How the hell did you get in?" He asked you, crossing his arms over his chest.

You stepped into the living room, not moving a step closer to him. This—this felt weird. Shouldn't the doorman have forewarned him you were on your way up? "The doorman, obviously. We need to talk."

"We're talking."

You know what? Screw the script. "What happened, Lele? What happened in Shanghai, what happened to us, what—"

"What do you mean 'us', Yn?" His tone made you start. "Can't you take a hint? I'm engaged to another woman, and you're just talking about the past?"

Your nostrils flared. "You mean the past that was literally a day beforehand? Chenle, what the hell? You don't even have the fucking decency to say you're sorry, but to block me without an explanation."

He rolled his eyes, like he had better things to do than to have this conversation with you. "You're really stupid, you know?"

"What?"

"You're really stupid." He tucked his hands into his pants pockets now, stance casual and gaze calculating. "You haven't figured it out yet?"

You wished you could speak. Fuck, you wished you could get words out.

"You were just a distraction, Yn. Just someone to have fun with before I needed to take over my responsibilities at the company."

You couldn't breathe. "Just a distraction."

He laughed, cruel and dark and wry. This was not your Chenle. But did your Chenle even exist? "You really thought I would keep you around? I have greater things in life than all this here in Seoul." Greater things than you, he seemed to say.

Wounded and heartbroken, you mustered all of your energy toward not crying or showing weakness. You held your head up high. "Guess you're even worse than the rumors say you are," you told him as calmly as you could. "Congrats on your engagement, and congrats on somehow living with such a shit personality. Have a nice, fake life."

You turned away and jammed the elevator button, willing it to come fetch you. Neither you nor Chenle said anything else as you left the penthouse. But as soon as the doors closed, your body shook so hard you fell against the wall, and you couldn't hold back the flood anymore.

Distraction. You were just a distraction.

For Chenle, the world was crashing down around him—walls crumbling, gravity flipping upside down. You had left with a stinging remark, and he couldn't bring himself to insult you anymore as you left. He was already breaking down as it was, collapsing onto the couch and trying to keep tears at bay.

How could he forgive himself for hurting you like that?

"You're a fucking dumbass."

"How could you talk to her like that? Don't you have any compassion?"

Chenle could feel Jisung and Sungchan practically run into the living room from his inner bedroom, where they had been hiding when you came in. He wouldn't have been able to do all that if it was in front of his friends, which was pretty pathetic of him, but he knew they heard everything. And they were rightfully furious at him for it.

Jisung planted himself on the glass coffee table in front of him, barely concealed rage on his face. "Have you any decency? Why the hell are you fucking crying when you just talked to her like that?"

Sungchan stood beside Jisung, arms crossed over his chest. "C'mon, Chenle. Aren't you gonna at least try to defend yourself? That was some pretty messed up shit you told her."

"I know," he croaked. Was it hot in here? "I was going to explain it all before she got here, but…" Well, you had gotten here before he could.

"So then explain," Jisung demanded. "You go to Shanghai for five days and all of a sudden you're engaged to some woman none of us know, you're acting like a douchebag, and you break Yn's heart. You told us yourself that you loved her. What the hell happened?"

Sungchan set a hand on Jisung's shoulder. "Jisungie-ah, calm down a little. Let's hear what he has to say."

They looked at Chenle.

Chenle leaned back against the couch cushions, eyes red with unshed tears. "My parents had my life planned out since I was born. Since I'm inheriting an empire, they had to ensure the future of it was in the right hands. Which also meant that they were going to pick who I married. They told me before I left for college here that I had a fiancée already and to keep that in mind, or some shit. I've been trying to avoid it, but it came to bite me in the ass when I met Yn.

"They basically threatened to disown me if I didn't fly back home and meet my alleged fiancée. And as much as I despise my parents for all the shit they've given me, I don't…" he struggled to find the words. "I don't want…"

Sungchan's expression was understanding. "You don't want to be without family. You still want that bond and you don't want to let people down, but you have to."

Chenle made a sad, noncommittal wave of his hand. "Yeah. That."

Jisung started at the floor, lips parted. "I'm sorry for going off on you like that. And I'm so sorry that you have to deal with this. But what you said was so brash—"

"Jisung, trust me, I know." Chenle let the emotion roll down his cheeks. He couldn't bottle it up any longer. "I want to throw up right now just thinking about what I said to her."

"Make it right, then."

"I'll have my ass beat if my parents hear. Everyone is watching me now. It's better if she leaves and never looks back." The press were harking for a scandal. If he so much as looked in your direction again in public, he was going to get a strongly worded warning from his parents. He was in a bind, and he didn't know what to do anymore.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐗—

Five days later, you were very close to committing murder.

You had managed to fool everyone, and even yourself, for a couple days that you were handling the breakup fine. You had gotten closure, and that had allowed you to scream and yell and cry it all out. But then you went right back to normal, albeit a little more of a workaholic than you used to be. Renjun and Doyoung were frequent visitors to your office and often had to drag you out by your ear. Felix forced you to make drinks and pastries while he dealt with customers at the café, probably for fear you would either snap or break down.

And you were fine. You were doing fine, you really were.

Until you were walking across campus to the library and heard the whispering, saw the pointing. And watched as Chenle and his fiancée walked arm in arm down the sidewalk toward you. You almost broke down on the spot, your legs were shaking so badly.

You made eye contact with Chenle for a split second, before you were speed walking past them, like you were never there in the first place. They had looked… content. And you wanted so badly to be happy for him, and to move the fuck on.

But that was just wishful thinking. Like you wishing this was all a fever dream or a misunderstanding.

Instead, everything you had experienced with Chenle felt like a mirage. All of it—had all of it been fake?

Today at the café, it was just you. Felix had a dance competition and Karina was on her way, but she wouldn't be here until later. You were slouched over the coffee machine, waiting for the cup to fill up.

"Hey, uhm, Yn."

"Hm?"

Liu Yangyang winced as he leaned over the counter, afraid to set you off. He didn't want you crying again; he hated when you cried, because he never knew how to help. "The coffee's spilling over."

You cursed, looking down. Indeed, dark bitter brew sloshed over the sides and onto your shoes. It stained your already dirty sneakers a dreadful dark brown. You groaned, smacking your palm against your forehead. "Damn it. Sorry Yangyang."

The man bit his lip. He knew you were struggling, and he felt bad that he needed coffee all the time. "It's okay. I can still drink that."

The coffee burned your fingers as you carefully slapped a lid on it and handed it to him. "I'm so sorry; I'm literally a mess right now."

"Take a break," he pleaded softly. He usually sat in the corner of the café on his laptop to do his work, but recently, he had moved up to the counter to monitor you. "Yn, please. No one's here; you can take a break. Come sit and talk to me."

He pouted at your hesitation. "I'm lonely."

You rolled your eyes, but wiped your hands on a towel and made your way around the counter. He grinned in utter delight (and relief) as you slid onto the open stool next to him.

Yangyang leaned his cheek against his fist as he looked at you—really looked at you. "Talk to me. Spill it all out; I can take it."

"I uhm…" you wrung your hands together. "I saw him." You struggled to swallow, already feeling your nose begin to sting. "I saw him walking on campus with her. I dunno why she's here, but she is and I—" a shudder quaked through your body and Yangyang frowned. "I thought I was gonna fall over, Yang, that's how badly I was shaking.

"God, I love him so much and it hurts so bad. I wish I could just stay mad at him, but all I feel is sorry. Sorry for myself, sorry for him, sorry for… I don't even know." You threw your hands in the air and let them flop onto your legs.

Yangyang scrunched his brows. "Why do you feel sorry for him? From what I heard, he's the one who should be sorry."

You shrugged. "I have a feeling this is arranged. Maybe he feels trapped; maybe he doesn't. Yeah, he was a jerk about it, but the more I think about it, the more I feel sorry for him. He has to live with himself like that. I don't even know if he's happy."

"You're so…" Yangyang tugged at the strands of his hair. "Why are you so nice?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you so nice!" He repeated in indignation, hands thrusted out for effect. "You said it yourself—he was a jerk about it, and yet, you want him to be happy. I demand whipped cream and sprinkles on my cold brew, and you say 'okay, that'll be 6,000 won'. I don't understand you."

You didn't know how he did it, but you were smiling, and then you were laughing.

Yangyang continued his little ruse, with even more dramatised movements. "And even like five minutes ago! You were gonna redo my entire cup of coffee, and you're still here instead of getting some other person to fill your hours for you. God, can you stop being such a good person?"

You sniffled, smiling down at the café counter. "Thanks, Yangyang. You're really good at this, y'know."

He shook his head, but the tips of his ears were turning pink. "Nah. I'm just a clown." He brought his cup to his mouth and took a grimacing sip. "Jesus, this is foul. Why am I even drinking this?"

"You ordered it, dumbass," you deadpanned.

He whined, "Well—I thought it was really easy for you to make, so I ordered it! I didn't want you to have to work too hard, but it still tastes like trash." He gagged, tongue hanging out of his mouth. "Ugh, I need a whole can of whipped cream after this one. I—"

The door to the café slammed closed, and your soul nearly left your body. Standing there in all his glory was Chenle. He had a glare fixed on you and Yangyang, and you couldn't tell how to feel about it. Yangyang, in classic Yangyang fashion, glared back.

You sighed, quickly heading for the counter as Chenle strode over to it. You grabbed the pencil from behind your ear and twirled it nervously between your fingers as the touchscreen loaded up. "Hi, um, dark coffee?"

Chenle nodded, pulling out his wallet. "Yeah, and an iced green tea, please." He wordlessly handed you, not a black card, but a regular old visa.

You didn't think much of it, but you grabbed it and quickly inserted the chip into the reader after inputting the order. So she drinks green tea, huh? "Here you go. Your order will be called shortly."

Without waiting for his reply, you scurried over to the counter against the far wall and began preparing his order. You wondered why he hadn't brought his fiancée along with him, but then again, did you want him to? You supposed this was better, but it was still killing you inside. You wanted the old Chenle back.

When you were finished, your voice was embarrassingly soft as you called his name. Chenle took the cups from you, fingers brushing against yours.

You were ready to turn away, to pretend he didn't exist, when he stopped you short. "Yn."

You hated how hopeful you were. Absolutely hated yourself for it. All he would do would break you some more.

You watched his Adam's apple bob in a rough swallow. "I'm sorry."

Yangyang nearly toppled over his stool as he lurched to his feet. "You have no fucking right—"

"Hey, stop it." You gave Yangyang an earnest look, pleading him to back down.

"But Yn!"

You shook your head firmly. This wasn't worth it. With a flick of your arm toward the door, you addressed Chenle. "I think you should leave."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, but he surrendered, and left the shop.

For a moment or two, you and Yangyang were quiet. The only noises were coming from the speaker's overhead playing lo-fi music. You focused on your breathing: in for three, hold for three, out for three.

I'm sorry. Did he even mean it? You were just a distraction.

"Yn," Yangyang muttered. "What the fuck was that?"

"You think I know?" You tugged a towel from your waist apron and turned your back to him to start wiping down the counter you had spilled coffee all over. You needed to grab a mop, too, for the mess you'd made on the floor. You felt Yangyang's eyes on you for a while, but he must have given up after a few minutes.

Or he must have realized you couldn't face him after what happened. Because no matter what Zhong Chenle did or said, you would still be so pathetically in love with him.

—𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐗𝐗𝐈—

Summer hit you like a basketball in the face. With classes out of session for the break, you dove headfirst into your work either at the theater or at the café. You worked overtime, you took people's shifts, you worked until you wanted to cry and pass out.

You had accepted a lot of things. It would be a long time before you were okay again, but you were a patient person. Your friends—Felix, Karina, Yangyang, Renjun—all tried in their own special ways to make you feel better and to keep you in check. They dragged you out for karaoke, for BBQ, for impulsive shopping trips. They made you feel like yourself again, from before you met the man you had fallen so fast and hard for.

Those feelings, unfortunately, would never fade. And even if you still couldn't stand seeing articles about them, you knew you were slowly accepting it. Because you were never meant to be with him. Perhaps you were soulmates, but this wasn't the lifetime that you would get the happy ending. And some days, you wanted to commit crimes because you were so fucking pissed, but you were learning to live with it all.

It was late when you finally made your way to the backdoor of the performing arts buildings. You knew Renjun would kill you if he knew you came back, but you just remembered that you forgot your phone on your office desk.

Your paces were fast as you unlocked the theater door and let yourself in.

It was déjà vu.

The melodious sound of piano keys being played met your ears as they drifted out into the back hallway. The notes and melody were a familiar sound, and you suddenly felt a wave of emotion crash over you in a tsunami wave. You could remove that night like it was yesterday.

You slowly and quietly traced your steps to the backstage door to the theater. It was cracked open, just like that night, except you remember you had locked that when you'd left. He must have picked the lock or something.

Gently, you pushed the door open.

He had his head bowed over the keys of the piano as he played. His fingers danced as they pressed keys, like they had been made to play.

A week ago, you and Doyoung had decided to move the piano. The two of you had turned it around, so now, the bench and keys faced the door. So you watched his perfect posture, upper body clad in a regular old black hoodie.

"You're not supposed to be here."

His shoulders stiffened slightly, but he brought his fingers to a slow halt. "Sorry," he cleared his throat, "I… didn't think anyone was here."

He had picked the lock. He really didn't think anyone would be here.

You dared a step closer. "Chenle," you sighed, "what are you doing here? You have a piano in your apartment."

Chenle pulled his legs over the side of the bench so he faced you now. You could see the lines on his face under the dim light of the lightbulb, the roughness from stress and lack of sleep. It worried you to see him in such a state, such misery. But then you reminded yourself of his words to you and how it had all played out. He was the one who had broken your heart and smashed it into pieces, and left you to pick up the broken pieces. He had promised you the world—and you had been stupid enough to believe him.

"I—" he paused, "I don't even know. Yn, I don't even know why I'm here. I just needed to get out of the apartment and…" He halted on his words, thinking better than to repeat them.

Distract himself. Yeah, you figured.

You were tempted to tell him to go distract himself elsewhere, but you couldn't bring yourself to. You didn't want your sanctuary tainted by his memory.

You didn't know what you were doing and why you were doing it, but your feet carried you over to the piano bench and you sat down next to him. You felt the heat of his arm and leg by yours, wondered how easy it would be to be pressed up against him again. How good it would feel to have him in your arms for just one last time.

"How are you?" You suddenly asked. "How've you been?"

He tapped his fingers against his knee. "Really bad, honestly. How about you? You look happy with, uhm, Yangyang. I'm glad."

You shook your head. "We're just friends." Because you ruined everyone else for me.

"He makes you smile—"

"So did you."

Silence. Your heartbeat thundered loudly in your ears and you wondered again why he was here. Why he was tormenting you like this. Couldn't he ruin your life once and deem it over?

"You don't have to accept my apology," he started again. "You don't have to even listen to me right now, but I'm so sorry, Yn."

You didn't want to listen, but you did.

"I'm sorry," he croaked. "Everything I said—I hate myself for every word I said to you that day. Because all I wanted to say to you was that the engagement is a scam and I don't love Alice, and never will love her—not like I love you. Because what we had was the realest thing I have ever had in my life and I wish we had more time."

When you didn't respond, Chenle said, "It's no excuse. They threatened to disown me, and I didn't know how to tell you because I really am just a coward and a scared, little kid. And… you brought the best out of me, the best memories I will ever have in my life. And I'm just so sorry.

"You were never just a distraction, Yn," he rasped, "you were so real to me. I was trying to push you away, but… I wanted—still want—to spend the rest of my life with you. And I know you'd probably never take me back, but I'm trying to find a way out of this."

You stared at the black stage floor, licking your lips. Your hands were shaking. "You're wrong." You inhaled softly, breathed it out. "I would take you back—in a heartbeat. But Chenle, if you ever find a way out of this…"

The two of you looked at each other then, eyes finally clashing and colliding in an explosion akin to that of a dying star. Your love had burned bright and burned fast.

"It won't be easy. I won't make it easy."

Chenle smiled then through his silver-lined eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you. I'll win you back. I promise."

Something settled in your chest, like the calming of waves. They smoothed out, brushed against the shoreline, but they didn't kick up in the winds anymore. This—this was the closure you needed. It was not whatever that screaming match of insults had been, but this.

"Can I… can I hold you? Just one more time."

You pursed your lips to suppress your bottom lip's trembling as you nodded.

Chenle leaned toward you and wrapped his arms securely around your body. He tugged you closer, and you leaned into his familiar and comforting embrace. You inhaled the smell of his cologne and allowed all of him to engulf and overwhelm your senses. You let his hands hold you tight, let him memorize your every curve and edge and inch.

And as you and Chenle sat there in silence together, you thought about how the boy who had everything had loved too hard and lost it all. But in his actions, there were about a thousand unspoken words, and for now, that would be enough.

"Thank you," he whispered into your hairline, lips pressed to your head and tears in his voice, "for everything."

You squeezed his hand. "You don't ever have to thank me for loving you, Chenle."

ending credits/aka my condolences: sorry chenle, i mayhaps did u dirty, but lmk what u guys think 😌💀

#nct x reader #zhong chenle x reader #chenle x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct #nct angst #chenle angst #chenle fluff #nct chenle #nct oneshot #nct dream oneshots #nct dream angst #chenle oneshot

[bratkook]

like you never did. (m) jjk.

“Love me like you never did…”

part one. pairing. ex boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre. smut, angst, very toxic exes warnings. very toxic depictions of relationships, jungkook is a cheater, oc is kinda shitty too, they’re both extremely toxic for each other and just can’t stay away, smut in forms of: oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, jungkook the type to say i love u balls deep inside you<3, did i mention he’s a cheater? word count. 9.2k note. like always, tags are janky so if u read pls reblog. its been a year since i released the first part of this so i figured a part two that was somehow worse was well deserved<3 (part one is kind of important and gives u more of a backstory than this one so pls read it first, theres a lot of connections to this part that i dont fully explain like i did in part one…ok) please don’t hate me, hate jungkook for being a dick 🥴 but real talk, they’re both red flags and this is definitely not an ideal relationship but i enjoy writing it because its unfortunately pretty relatable soooo enjoy the angst and filth muah muah ly bye. (and yes this is inspired by santa monica & la brea by blackbear<3) this is just a two shot, don’t ask for a part three.

It always started with a phone call.

Buzzing his phone to life, vibrating against his hardwood floors where it lay face down with the screen most likely shattered. It continues to ring until it reaches his voicemail, something you haven’t heard in a long time because Jungkook always answered. It never mattered what time it was, if he was occupied doing something else, without fail he would pick up by the second ring with a smirk on his face that you could hear through his tone. But when the beep rings through your ear to alert you of a voicemail recording, you hang up instantly.

His contact fills your screen as you pull the phone away from your ear, nibbling on the edge of your thumb while you contemplate your next move. Any sensible person would take this as a sign to give up, erase his contact for good and pretend you never called him. But you’re two glasses deep into your favorite wine and the cursed box of memories lay spread across your bed sheets, so calling him a second time seems like the best option.

You know Jungkook was currently home, holed up in his bedroom no doubt, maybe a few beers on his nightstand while he scrolled through Tinder or something and ignored your call. It’s not like he was out with his girlfriend, judging by her instagram posts announcing her newly found single life as she downs shots with her friends at a popular club in town.

That was the exact reason you were calling him, having been watching both his and her social media ever since you discovered they were dating. It was like watching a car crash waiting to happen, knowing Jungkook’s tendencies too well to know he would never resist temptation. It was your selfish needs that had you throwing in a helping hand in the downfall of their relationship, texting him whenever you saw they were out on dates, continuing to answer his drunken calls on his own night out, allowing him to enter your place time and time again despite the way it made your stomach twist. Because if you couldn’t have Jungkook the way you wanted, no one could.

Before you can make a move to call him again, your phone buzzes to life, a new photo of him that you had taken a few weeks back filling up your screen. His cheeks are squished between your fingers, lips puckered up and showing his teeth, sleepy eyes staring directly into the camera with the tinges of a hangover weighing them down. That had been one of the good morning afters you had, giggling on the sheets as you rolled around after waking him up with the flash of your phone, kissing him while pushing the thought of his girlfriend from your mind, pretending to not notice the way he slyly texted her back when you got up to get dressed.

“Hello,” you answer just before the call goes to voicemail, hearing the sound of his breathing from the other line before he clears his throat.

“Hey, I was showering. You okay?” Rustling is heard as he runs his towel through his hair, flinging water droplets everywhere as he walks around his room. A small smile is on his face, knowing exactly why you were calling, having seen his exes posts himself, it was just a countdown to when you’d reach out.

“Yeah, just wanted to know if you had plans tonight.” It’s an innocent question, spoken so softly it’d be easy for anyone to assume you were being genuine. Jungkook could decipher the riddle easily, already reaching for his jacket that he left draped across his bed, side stepping the brown boxes littering his room to grab the rest of his things as he makes his way out.

“No, I’m yours if you want.” You can hear the smirk on his lips as he says it, ignoring the way your stomach flips at his playful tone. The wine nearly spills on your bed as you quickly bring the glass back to your lips to clear the rest of it, needing to give yourself something else to focus on.

It settles heavily in your stomach, tongue swiping at your lips as you set the glass back down and reach for a polaroid by your knee. The edges are wrinkled from how often you grabbed it, glossy image of Jungkook aggressively kissing your cheek staring back at you as you smile while taking the photo. Messy black ink is scrawled at the bottom in Jungkook’s handwriting, the words ‘love you forever’ not making your heart skip the way it used to.

“You know my code right?” You shove the feeling of regret and doubt deep into your mind before it could make itself known. That’s a problem for tomorrow morning, something you could blame on a moment of weakness, pinpoint it on the cheap wine you bought instead of taking responsibility for your actions.

“Of course I do,” he murmurs, jingling his keys as he slips into his shoes before leaving his place. Jungkook thought it was adorable that you left your old anniversary as the code to enter your apartment, pretending to believe you when you had insisted it was only because you had forgotten how to reset it. He couldn’t outwardly tease you for it though, knowing his own phone used those same four digits to hide all of his dirty secrets.

“I’ll be there soon.” He can practically see you sprawled out in your bed with a satisfied smile on your face as you hum in response before he hangs up the phone. Jungkook knew your games very well, having grown familiar with them from all the time spent together.

That same scheming of yours was the way you had lured him in, setting your sights on him when he was already spoken for. Your subtle comments in person slowly roped around him, tugging him further from his girlfriend and closer to you with each passing day. Before he knew it he was right where you wanted him to be, underneath you in bed with his neck covered in hickeys, a gleam in your eye that let him know you had no regrets despite the way you tried to pretend this was a mistake.

You were two peas in a pod, it’s the reason why it was so hard for you to stay away from each other. Jungkook’s distaste for exclusivity wasn’t a giant secret, knowing how easy it was for you to snatch him from his ex was the only red flag you needed, but the fact that he had a special place in his twisted heart for you is what kept you clinging on to him. Sure, he’d slip up on his nights out with his friends, come home to you with an extra contact on his phone and a few hidden snapchats uploaded by Yugyeom of whatever mayhem had transpired, but the way he would nuzzle into your neck as he slipped into bed behind you, gripping onto you like you were his lifeline made you look the other way.

Just like you knew how to weasle your way back into his mind whenever he strayed a little too far, he knew how to slip through the cracks in your heart, making himself right at home like he always did. That’s exactly why when he slips past your front door with your favorite desserts and a wine bottle to match, it doesn’t catch you by surprise.

“What’s that for?” you wonder as you exit your room, having been alerted of him entering your building by your intercom system. He looks proud of himself as he sets the goods down onto your small dining table, eyes trained on you while you make your way towards him. You’re no stranger to the way he looks you over, trailing up your exposed legs, cut off by the hem of your oversized shirt that he strangely thinks might belong to him, focusing on the way your tits push against the fabric when you cross your arms under your chest. Humor is evident in your eyes when he finally meets your gaze, lips curling up into a smirk when he knows he’s been caught.

“Do you ever need a reason for sweets and some wine?” he jokes, raking his fingers through his damp hair, head tilting to the side as he looks down at you.

“Mm, I didn’t call you over for sweets and wine.”

“Are you saying you called me over for my body? At least buy me dinner first.” The smile he wears is the same one that always makes you melt, boyish and flirty as he reaches forward to gently grab your hips when you approach him. Your own hands come to rest on his stomach, slowly inching up his shirt towards his chest, feeling the calm beating of his heart.

“Jeon Jungkook needs to be wined and dined? That’s a first.” It’s a lighthearted comment, but Jungkook knows it’s stemmed from a deep rooted issue he was the cause of. But he’s shameless, that sly smile never falling off his face, hands tightening their grip as he steps even closer.

“You know you’re an exception. Always have been,” he mumbles out, licking over his lips. “Always will be.”

“You’re in a sweet talking mood today huh?” you murmur, leaning up to connect your lips to his jaw. Jungkook’s fingers grab onto you tighter, humming as you trail kisses onto his cheek before finally connecting your lips together. You didn’t want him to try to butter you up, knowing if you let his words sink into you it would just mess up the routine you have.

It’s a routine Jungkook knows very well, his favorite dance with you, from the way his hands glide up your body, to the steps he takes towards your room without needing to separate from the kiss.

You couldn’t let that happen though, being too caught up in your brief moment of reminiscing, you had left the dreaded box of memories scattered across your bed. Jungkook knew about this box, had found it while snooping in your room during one of the many nights you had drunkenly called him over, but you weren’t in the right headspace to deal with whatever situation could come from that. So instead, you lace your fingers together and change the routine, slowly leading him away from your door and towards the giant floor to ceiling windows that lined the side of your living room.

Jungkook pulls away from the kiss at the change, eyes fluttering open and smirking when he realizes where you were taking him. Throughout your relationship you had voiced your interest in having him fuck you against the windows, enjoying the thrill of potentionally getting caught, and Jungkook was never one to deny you.

“Always so dirty,” he mumbles out, eagerly following you now, the familiar dance picking up where it left off. The blur of limbs as you tug and yank each others clothes off, the soft nibbles shared between kisses, how he groans into your mouth as you tug at his bottom lip, his large palms gripping your hips and pushing you back until you’re flush against the window; it all feels like home.

You know how wrong it is for you to still crave him as much as you do, knowing the void in your heart feels emptier each time he leaves. Jungkook does a good job at making you forget though, distracting you with his soft lips on your skin, trailing down your neck and chest, feeling the rise and fall of each breath as he slowly drops down onto his knees before you. His nose rubs against you, passing your bellybutton as his eyes peer up at you to shoot you a wink, pressing a soft kiss to your hips.

“Jungkook, please. Need to feel you, it’s been so long.” His fingers tighten their hold on you, digging into your skin for a brief moment as he hums in response. Jungkook knows it's been a long time since he’s been in this position, the past few weeks had him walking on eggshells, too on edge to allow himself to get sloppy because his girlfriend had gotten suspicious. The annoyance flares up inside of him as he remembers how useless it had been for him to attempt to clean up his messy trail because like the rest, she had found out anyway and two weeks without you had been wasted.

“I know baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, finally giving you what you desperately craved. You never need a buildup with Jungkook but he loves it too much, loves the sound of your gasp as he gently flicks his tongue against your clit, how your hands slide down your body to tangle in his hair and yank him closer. It makes his cock ache, moaning into your pussy as he wraps a hand around his length and slowly starts to pump himself.

Jungkook did this often, loved to tease himself as you melt at his touch. He pulls back for a moment to let spit gather at the back of his lips, letting it dribble onto his palm to give his fist a better glide before connecting his lips to your folds once more. The wet thumps of his palm fill the air and you know what he's doing instantly, feeling the movement of his shoulder against your thigh and as your eyes stare down at the visual you can only groan his name out. It was like he couldn’t contain himself, getting off to the way your thighs tremble, how your fingers yank on his strands, bucking your hips into his eager mouth with a whimper.

Jungkook digs his fingers into your skin, sliding around your hip until he has a handful of your ass in his grasp, delivering a swift slap that blends in with the wet slurps of his mouth. The low vibrations of his chuckle make you smile, biting down on your bottom lip as you stare down at him. His eyes are glazed over, fluttering shut as his grip tightens around his length, eating you out with determination while he gets himself off.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he can break you down, have your knees going weak as your back inches down the window, head thrown back as the familiar warmth spreads through you. Once his fingers join in, slipping up your thigh before slowly sinking into your heat, you know you’re done for. They stretch you out perfectly, reaching parts of you that you could never reach yourself. The past two weeks without him left you to your own devices, desperate in your nights alone with your imagination and small fingers but nothing could compare to him actually here between your thighs, finally giving you your fill.

“God,” you rasp, trembling slightly when his fingers curve inside you, rubbing tantalizingly against your patch of nerves. “I missed you. I missed you so much.” It’s a desperate admission, feeling the curve of his smile against your pussy. Jungkook loved nothing more than to hear how much you still wanted him, needed him, missed him despite everything that had transpired between your relationship.

“Show me how much you missed me babe,” he pants, his fist pumping his cock in time with his fingers inside you, the rough pad of his thumb flicking against your clit while he stares up at you. You’re completely slumped against the window, chest heaving as the pleasure sparks inside you, the low glow of the city behind you painting you in the prettiest light. “Cum for me.”

Your eyes are locked together, seeing the way his sparkle as your jaw slacks, your chest hiccuping with each strained breath, hips rolling against him erratically. Your hand in his hair guides him back to your folds, letting out a debauched moan as you rest your head against the window, the warmth of his mouth sending your mind into overdrive. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers, releasing his hold on his cock to grip your waist to prevent you from buckling over as you finally get pushed over the edge.

Jungkook always thought you looked best in the throes of pleasure, chanting how much you loved how he made you feel, looking dazed and exhilarated while you rode through the high. It starts a hunger inside him as he pulls out his messy fingers, sliding them in his mouth to wipe clean before he’s kissing up your body. The wet smacks of his lip make your skin tingle, shuddering as he licks against your nipple before trailing up your collar bone, nipping the tender skin of your neck and finally pressing his lips to you. The taste of you lingers in his mouth and it just makes your core ache for him, letting him slither his tongue inside to tangle with yours with a shared groan.

“You gonna let me show you how much I missed you?” he murmurs against your lips, low and raspy, and it sends a shiver up your spine. Jungkook just smirks when you follow him back to kiss him some more, never getting enough of him. “Let me make it all up to you babe.”

A quick nod is all he needs before he’s spinning you around, back pressed flush against yours as he pins you to the window, overlooking the skyline of the city below you. A shuddering gasp fogs up the window, the cool of the glass pressing against your nipples as he cages you in. His hands lace between yours, gliding them up the glass as he places a gentle kiss to your shoulder. Your eyes focus on the building across the street, a few windows illuminated inside, letting you see people going about their daily lives. Jungkook notices what has your attention, chuckling under his breath. “You like this huh? Knowing if they just looked hard enough they could see all the pretty faces you make.”

A whine escapes your throat at the thought, knowing how right he was, the slight adrenaline pumping in your blood fueling your desire, making your thighs messy with arousal. You know they can’t see you, the tinted windows of your building blocking anyone the glorious view of Jungkook getting ready to fuck you from behind, but the thrill was still there.

“I just like getting fucked with a view,” you laugh, arching your back and humming when you feel his hard length against your ass. His hands release yours, coming to smooth over your back and grab a handful of your ass in each palm, gently slapping the flesh and smiling when you hiss at the feeling.

“Yeah, well I have the best view back here.” The rasp in his voice is so thick it makes you shiver, the pure lust lacing each syllable quiets down the little voice in your head that wonders if you still had a hold on Jungkook like he had on you. You push the thoughts from earlier away, the same ones that had you pulling out the cursed box of memories, the hushed whispers hoping this would happen again. Instead, you slip your eyes shut and playfully wiggle your hips against him, smiling when he groans out.

“C’mon Kookie,” you whine, palm pressed flush against the window as you arch further, turning to look back at him with a coy smile. “Thought you wanted to show me how much you missed me.”

His eyes are dark as he stares at you, the corner of his lip turning up into a playful smile as he delivers a final smack to your ass, his adorable teeth shown when he laughs at the small twitch you give from surprise.

“I do. But I missed all of you,” he whispers, licking his lips over as he grabs his cock once more, slowly leading it to your entrance. “Missed your cute face.” Jungkook toys with the head of his cock a bit, slips it between your folds until it’s nudging against your sensitive clit and making you mewl. A sly smirk is on his lips as he repeats it, enjoying the small spark of pleasure that comes from it. A small whine from you is what snaps him out of his little teasing game, eyes now glued to the way the head of his cock disappears into your heat as he slowly pushes forward, your walls tightening around the tip as you gasp. That’s when he looks back over at you, smirking at the way your eyes flutter shut before you’re turning to face the window again. “Missed your pussy.” A low chuckle escapes him when he feels the way your tight walls clamp over him at the lewd remark.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the stretch that came with his cock, feeling every inch of him as he pushes forward, gentle enough for you to ease into it. Your wetness lets him slide in with no resistance, making a home inside your walls like he knew he belonged there.

“Jungkook,” you gasp when he bottoms out, hips completely flush against you, feeling him deep inside. It feels like the wind gets knocked out of you, the complete fullness bringing you a strange sense of comfort.

“Fuck,” he groans, fingers coming to grip your hips, digging into your skin, leaving half moons in their wake. “Missed that too. Say it again babe, please. Say my name.” He doesn’t give you another second to think about what he said before he’s pulling back and thrusting into you, skin smacking together from the force. When you moan out his name once more he lets his head hang back, basking in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him, the neediness in your voice fueling him, swelling his ego and making his cock throb inside you.

He knows it’s the same for you, feeding off each other, needing one another to satisfy the addiction, because that’s what this was. There was some form of love laced into it, sick and a little warped but it was there. The main part of it? It was like an itch that needed to get scratched, the hunger for the past leaving you both desperate to get another taste, another dose of something that felt fleeting. It was the fear of routine going astray that had you constantly coming back, going back on your word to stay away, ignoring the part of you that told you that you didn’t need each other. And as your head bows forward, a choked gasp escaping your mouth when he rocks into you, satisfying the craving you had for him, you remember just how good it feels to come back to him.

“Missed you, fuck. Never again.” Jungkook’s rambling now, getting too lost in his thoughts to pay any mind to what he was saying. His hips never slow, the grip he has on your skin only tightening as he fucks you harder, faster, enjoying the way your hands slide against the window.

“Oh my god,” you choke out, jaw slack when he finds the perfect rhythm, hands guiding you back into him as he thrusts forward. Each rock of his hips pulls you further under, turning you into a whimpering mess, needing to reach back with your hand to feel him. Jungkook smirks as your palm feels around for him, releasing one hand from your hip to lace your fingers together.

“You feel so fucking good,” he grunts, tightening his hold on your hand for a moment. “So warm, so wet. All for me, right baby?”

“Y-yes,” you cry out, “just for you. Always for you.”

His hand pulls away from you, slipping around your front to slide up your body until he’s gripping your throat and pulling you up. You squeal slightly at the change in position, standing up straight as Jungkook pushes you closer to the window, his fingers feeling the racing of your heart against your throat. Your head hangs back, eyes fluttering shut as he snaps his hips forward fluidly, your hand coming up to grip his wrist in reassurance, letting him know he can squeeze harder and he does. He reaches all the best parts inside you, each grunt he releases hitting your ears and sending your mind into a flurry, only focusing back in when he speaks once more.

“That’s right,” he rasps out, placing a wet kiss to the side of your head before his fingers are pressing into your neck deliciously. “I’m yours too, always will be.” Jungkook always lets his train of thought run rampant whenever you get together like this, fueled by the pleasure of it all, running solely on lust instead of reality. When your walls pulse around him, eagerly sucking him back in each time he pulls out, he chokes out a groan. “God—fuck, I love you.”

That has your eyes widening, forcing the fluttering feeling in your stomach to stop at his confession. It’s been a while since Jungkook had let that phrase slip out, usually reserved for the times where you needed consoling, but something about the way he says it now makes your heart stop. It easily spills past his lips, a lie coated in sugar to make it easier for you to swallow, said without a care as he peppers kisses to your shoulder, whining about how great you felt around him as his thrusts turn desperate.

There’s an underlying something you can’t quite catch in between it all, made obvious by how much he seems to need you close to him. His chest is pressed flush against your back, fingers around your neck not catching the way your heart races now, too focused on gripping your thigh to lift your leg up higher and reach deeper inside you. A lewd gasp is all you give him in response, choosing to focus on the pleasure building inside you.

You don’t say it back, even though your mind is currently screaming it, shouting at you to say it, to confess how much you love him too. It was always a constant game of tug of war in your heart, fighting against rationality until you were believing his sweet lies, leaving your skin sticky as he kissed every inch he could reach.

As much as you hate to admit it, you would probably never stop loving him. The love you have for him is the kind that sticks to you, makes your chest feel tight from how strongly you felt it, leaves your throat raspy from how loudly you used to shout it at him. It should make you feel good, but it doesn’t. Flashes of how often you’d scream about your love for him play in your mind, rarely shouted from the rooftops with a smile on your face, often exchanged in the dim lighting of your kitchen with tears streaming down your cheeks as you argued with him over another lie you had stumbled upon.

Your love for him was used as ammunition in fights, under the belt shots intent to make him see how much he was hurting you. Your love for him was sharp words, slammed doors, and tearful exchanges once he calmed you down, kissing your cheek and promising you that it would all be okay. You endured it, knowing—believing—Jungkook loved you in his own special way, allowing him to sink himself further into you, breach each new wall you’d put up and because of this, you knew he would always be here to stay. It was evident in the deep wounds to your heart, scarred and raised, something you would always feel in the years to come.

“You know that right?” he continues with a small whine into your ear that leaves you shivering. His hand drops your lifted thigh and slides across your body, roaming over your stomach before dipping down your center, moaning in approval when his fingers find your messy folds. The second his fingers press into your clit, rubbing enticing circles around it, you’re shuddering. “Just wanna make sure you know—fuck—how much I appreciate you, need you. Always.”

That same desperation is evident in his voice, and it suddenly hits you that Jungkook’s the one that needs consoling now. The normal roles are reversed to leave him needy and seeking validation from you, getting it the one way he knows how to. You let it slide for this reason only, begging the dull ache in your chest to go away as you focus on the feeling of his fingers instead.

“I know Jungkook,” you moan out, using one palm to brace yourself against the window as his thrusts get harder. “You have me.”

“Always?” he rasps out, desperate for an answer. His fingers press into your neck tighter, making your head feel fuzzy in the best way, paired with the precise flicks of his fingers against your clit and you’re not sure you can even respond. He groans when your walls tighten around him, the slapping of your skin filling up your living room, messy streaks of your palm gliding down the glass illuminated by the dim lighting.

“Always,” you manage to choke out, hating the way you knew it wasn’t a lie, knowing that no matter what you’d always end up succumbing to him.

He breathes a sigh of relief against your skin at that, the fluid rocking of his hips speeding up. You can’t allow yourself to think anymore, letting your eyes fall shut as you savor the feeling taking over you. The soft, breathy moans of his name are the telltale signs that you’re close, his fingers pressing into the sides of your throat with precision, feeling the way you tighten around his cock at the added pressure.

Jungkook hisses into your ear, your walls sucking him back in everytime he pulls out, desperate for more. “Fuck—gonna show you how much I missed you right now baby,” he groans out, fingers covered in your slick as he rubs tight figure eights on your clit. “Wanna feel you cum one more time for me though. Can you do that, hm?”

A weak nod is all you can give him and he chuckles at that. “That’s my good girl. Cum for me babe.”

The wet smacks of your skin connecting, the quick flicks of his fingers against your bundle of nerves, the airy feeling of his fingers wrapped around your throat; it all becomes too much for you. Your body tenses briefly as you try to ground yourself, hand desperately reaching behind you until your palm is connecting with Jungkook’s side, feeling his muscles flexing as he fucks into you, the warmth of his skin keeping you floored to reality. Only then do you let the feeling wash over you, a final flick of his finger pushing you over the edge as you cum a second time.

Jungkook releases your throat instantly, hearing the sharp gasp of air as you moan out his name, velvety walls pulsing around his cock. His hands stabilize you now, holding you steady as your knees threaten to buckle underneath you, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm as you whine weakly at the stimulation.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he rasps out, pushing you closer to the window until you have no choice but to press both hands firmly against it. It’s like he can’t get close enough to you, needing to feel every inch of your body against his. “Fuck, where do you want me to cum?”

The flashes of overstimulating leave you mewling, your mind swimming as you try to give Jungkook an answer, feeling his thrusts grow sloppy now. “Inside, please. Wanna feel you.”

The desperation dripping off your words soaks into his skin, tightens the coil inside him as he stares at the spot where you connect. He wants to keep this visual in his mind forever, never wants to forget how you sound, how you feel around him. Jungkook’s chest heaves as he pants, stomach flexing as he pushes further into you, only needing a few more thrusts until he’s groaning deeply. Your name sounds like pure sin coming from his lips, gentle smacks of your skin blending in with it as he gives a few shallow thrusts, warm spurts of his cum coating your insides as he rides his orgasm out.

“Fuck,” he pants, buried to the hilt as he tries to catch his breath, leaning over your trembling body. His hands slide across your body, fingers soothing your skin, across your stomach, up your chest, trailing down your arms until he can lace his fingers with yours and bring you closer. You groan softly at the movement, his cock nudging inside your sensitive walls as you stand up, back pressed against his chest. Jungkook always liked to savor the moments after, the brief moment of serenity blanketed over you, bathed in the warm after glow that came from an orgasm, the two of you feeling a little too vulnerable to do anything other than bask in it.

He kisses the side of your head tenderly, nose nudging against your hair, slowly pulling out of you with a shared hiss. You feel his cum start to drip out of you instantly, coating your folds and slowly sliding down your thigh but you pay it no mind as he turns you around in his grasp. Staring up at him with dazed eyes, you appreciate the soft expression he always wore after this, gentle and caring, almost as if he meant absolutely every word he said. The slight tug of his lip pulls into a smile as he looks down at you, palm coming up to cradle your jaw before he’s leaning forward to connect your lips once more.

Kissing him always pulled at your heart strings, not knowing how he was able to kiss you and pour all these emotions into you. Each soft smack of your lips felt like a spoken promise, a genuine apology, pure love replacing the lust he had shown earlier, pulling you further under with each shared breath. The racing of your heart slows as he finally pulls away, keeping your eyes shut for a moment, still feeling the ghost of his lips on yours, and he chuckles.

“You’re cute,” he whispers out, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip with that adorable smile on his face. His eyes crinkle, giving him that boyish charm that made it so hard to contain your emotions. He quickly pecks you again, grabbing your hands and beginning to pull you away from the palm streaked window.

Back to routine.

The flip of the coin starts the second your mind clears from it all, thrown into the air as you go about cleaning yourselves up. It leaves you a little on edge, not wanting to say anything to push this in the wrong direction, to kickstart an argument when everything has been good so far. You choose to ignore it, trying to let it all play out naturally as you settle onto your couch next to Jungkook.

“I got your favorite,” he mumbles with a smile, bringing over the box of sweets he had first brought in with him. He opens the black box, revealing the donuts and pastries you always crave, something he would grab for you at the end of the week when you were together.

He watches you with that same smile, only getting wider when your eyes sparkle at the cinnamon crumb donuts. Like always, you divide it in half and hand him the smaller piece with a sly smile. “Thank you.”

Jungkook shrugs like it's no big deal, taking a bite of the sweet desert and laughing when the vanilla glaze lingers by your mouth. Before you can react, he’s reaching forward with his thumb and wiping it away, licking the residue off his finger out of habit. “So, how’s life been?”

You chuckle lightly at his tone, not entirely used to having small talk with him anymore—not like this at least. The last few times you had gotten together had been rushed, quick and messy, fighting the clock because of Jungkook’s dirty secret. There was no longer any need to hide anything so he lets himself enjoy the small sense of peace, no guilt weighing heavy on his chest at spending some time with you.

“It’s been good. I’m thinking of adding another member to my family.”

Jungkook stops chewing, eyes wide as he stares at you, slight fear creeping up his spine when he realizes he literally just came inside of you. “Like a baby?”

“No,” you laugh. “Like a dog, or a cat. Haven’t decided yet. I'll probably go to the shelter later this week to see.”

“I can go with you, if you’d like.” He speaks softly now, voice a little unsure as he wonders just what line he’s allowed to cross in this weird dynamic. Exes with secret rendezvous who visit pet shelters together was not something either of you ever saw coming.

“That would be nice,” you mumble, smiling softly as you bring your legs up to cross in front of you on the couch. Your fingers fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, pooling between your thighs from its size, wanting to reach out and touch him but it didn’t seem right. How odd, that minutes prior he had you pinned against the window yet now the thought of placing your hand over his seemed like it was taking it too far, too fast. “How’s life been for you?”

Jungkook clears his throat, knowing he doesn’t need to state the obvious, not wanting to divulge details about his newest ruined relationship. “Can’t complain. Actually, I took your advice.” When your eyebrows raise in question he readjusts himself on the couch before continuing. “I started going to therapy.”

It’s a little ironic really that you’d tell him to go to therapy when you probably needed it just as badly, but if he had finally bitten the bullet then maybe you could do the same. “Really? Any groundbreaking revelations yet?”

“You were right,” he chuckles, rubbing at his jaw as he stares at you. “I have really shitty friends.” You knew this, even he knew this, only sticking with his group of friends that he’s known for years because he was scared of change. Hearing it from someone else, someone who was neutral to the situation, made him realize it was the truth. “She told me I should distance myself from them, work on my self destructive tendencies and learn to set boundaries before reaching out again. Really though, I think I just need new people in my life.”

“That must be a little difficult at work though.” His friend group wasn’t large by any means, just a group of five guys who enjoyed riling him up to have fun while also leaving him out to dry once the party was over. They all did their own thing day to day, but Jungkook’s best friend—the one who more often than not enabled him the most—worked alongside him. “Has Yugyeom said anything about you giving him the cold shoulder?”

Jungkook’s body tenses up instantly, something you catch the second it happens, making you eye him cautiously as he clears his throat once more. “No, I figured it out already.” You nod in response, assuming he had requested to get moved to a different department, maybe even a different location in the city, somewhere they wouldn’t have as many interactions as they did now.

He confirms your suspicions with his following sentence, “I got transferred.” His voice trails off awkwardly at the ends, nervous fingers tapping along his knee as he looks away from you. The way he’s acting fills your stomach with nerves, reminding you of the coin that had been tossed in the air earlier, still flipping through as it decides what side it’ll land on. You can’t finish the small piece of donut in your hand, putting it aside as you beg your anxiety to calm down. “To another state actually.”

You can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, half expecting him to join in and say he’s joking, but he doesn’t, so your laugh awkwardly dies off. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

It’s comical really, how Jungkook has the gall to look offended at this. His strong brows are pinched on his forehead, two wrinkles sinking into his skin as he stares down in confusion before glancing back at you with down turned lips. “Why would I be joking about that?”

Your lips press together now, biting back anything you want to say on impulse, your mind whirling now with a nauseous feeling bubbling in your stomach. The urge to scream at him lingers in the back of your throat, scratches and claws its way up because how dare he think he could do that. You swallow it down, feeling the lump in your throat as you attempt to be rational, the sobering realization that Jungkook could do whatever he wanted keeping you silent. If he wanted to cut off his friends, date new people, pack up and leave, he could. None of his life decisions have anything to do with you because you’re not a part of his life in a way that makes your opinion matter.

Those messy phone calls and late nights where he comes over when he needs something familiar, that’s all you are. Familiar. That permanent spot you held prior, etched into his heart with a little more room that let other things slip through, it was gone now. And that realization stings, you can feel it at the back of your eyes now, urging you to blink it away before shameful tears well up. You’re too prideful to cry in front of him right now, giving yourself a mental pep talk to get it together and bite your tongue before you can’t meet his eyes again.

“When are you leaving?” your voice doesn’t waver, but Jungkook can see how you’re affected instantly. He’s always been good at reading people, and the way your nostrils flare out slightly lets him know he’s upset you.

“In two days.”

That reignites the fire inside you, small embers catching flame and wounding you further as you hold it in. The hurt swells up in your chest when you realize that he had gone ahead and made plans with you minutes prior to visit a shelter, inviting himself, fully knowing he wouldn’t be here any longer, setting you up perfectly for another heartbreak because that's what he does best.

“Were you even going to tell me if I hadn’t called you up today? If I hadn’t asked you how life is going? Or was this just going to be another one of your secrets?”

Jungkook looks a little ashamed at that, and it spells it out for you instantly. He doesn’t need to tell you that he’s had the things in his house packed up in brown boxes for weeks now, his guilty eyes say enough. You know he’ll never come out and say it, because Jungkook admitting that he was so willing to leave you without another word is how he loses you and he couldn’t let that happen. He’d also never admit that he’s known for months that he’d be leaving and that had been what broke up his last relationship. The sneaky nights with you had caused a bump in his relationship but his ex was willing to work through it, but she wasn’t willing to pack up with him or do long distance and he wasn’t going to beg her to. Jungkook couldn’t let that slip either because that would make you realize that you weren’t his priority anymore.

“No,” he scoffs, still refusing to keep eye contact, fingers nervously fidgeting on his lap. “I’d never do that to you.” Jungkook lies so easily, knows how to wrap it up prettily for you to accept it. He knows he has to, and the worst part is that he doesn’t actually think he’s doing anything wrong. This is what his therapist told him to do, to distance himself from people he relied on out of habit, to find his own footing. Hell, you were the one that begged him to go to therapy so isn’t this what you wanted?

Still, he tacks something sweet at the end of it. Something he thinks will warm your heart and make you see that he cared for you. “You’re special, Y/N. You know this.”

A weak laugh bubbles out of you, jaw ticking out as you look at the fabric of your couch. “I’m special,” you whisper, words feeling bitter on your tongue, going rancid as it settles. This didn’t make you feel special. Jungkook fucking you and confessing his love, needing you to confirm he always had you, it all makes sense now. He needed to hear that, needed to have one last stroke to his ego to let him know he still had you in the palm of his hand before he made his swift exit.

It's hard for you to control your emotions now, trying to keep a level head even though your heart wants to grab the reins and lead this whole conversation. You’d think after all this time, the countless years together, how much you endured and put up with for him, you’d be treated differently. His friends being dropped like flies seemed right, maybe you were selfish in thinking so, in thinking you were held higher up than the group of boys who helped aid your own relationship’s downfall.

Now your brain is trying to scramble scenarios together where you’d be okay with this happening. Maybe if Jungkook had approached you like an adult, told you what he was doing with enough time for you to come to terms with it. Maybe if he had told you on the phone when you called him over, delivered the blow before he could sink his teeth into you a final time. But the truth is, there’s no way he could say this without you thinking it wasn’t good enough.

“So this is it then?” you sigh, defeated, feeling the same stinging in your eyes that you can’t fight back this time.

Jungkook knows what you mean, looking up at you and seeing your slowly reddening eyes, the absolutely broken look on your face as you let the reality of it sink in.

He wants to reach out for you, grab your hand and pull you into his chest to comfort you, but just like you had thought earlier, it doesn’t feel right. He’s sure if he attempted to touch you either way you’d lash out, stand up and stomp around while you spoke in broken sobs about how much you loved him. So he stops himself, keeps his hands on his lap and simply looks around at your living room, trying to take in the four walls he called home at one point. That’s when he spots it, on the back wall.

In between the endless framed pictures of you with your friends sits an off centered frame, the picture inside of it not quite the right size but he recognizes it instantly. It’s one of his favorite pictures you had taken together, sitting in an ice cream shop downtown, sharing a sweet kiss with ice cream lingering on your lips. That had been the first time he told you he loved you, let it spill out of his mouth smoothly, no nerves lingering in his chest as he said it, eyes focused on yours so he could see the way you froze with the spoon in your mouth. Jungkook hadn’t cared then that you didn’t come out and say it, didn’t care that it took you a few months before you had uttered the words back to him, because your wide eyed reaction and stuttered words had let him know he had already slipped his way through your cracks.

It’s a bitter memory for you, a picture you had put up in a moment of weakness weeks ago, and when you spot him staring at it you make a mental note to break the frame and toss the photo later.

Jungkook looks back at you, giving you a woeful smile as he sighs. “You’ve been saying that we need to walk away from this for so long. Don’t you think it’s time for us to learn to live without each other?”

That irks you. Because yes, you did say that. It’s something that the two of you said constantly but there was never serious intent behind it, just words used to ease the guilt you felt about it all, never meant to actually be done. But hearing him say it like this, with eyes looking so disconnected, it only plunges the knife further into your back, twists it ninety degrees until you can’t breathe right. It hurts, makes your lungs rattle as you try to take in oxygen. You just want to rip it out, trail it down his chest before you reach the fourth and fifth rib and plunge it into his heart so he could get a taste of how he was hurting you.

The want to be petty, to spew words you know will make him ache is nowhere to be found. Drained dry by your exhaustion, the constant back and forth of this reaching its breaking point. There’s something so twisted to know that despite everything Jungkook did to you, you still weren’t the one that was strong enough to walk away. Silly little you was still the one holding on to this with all your might, digging your nails into the fabric of him, hoping to snag a thread so he could look back and remember that you were there clinging onto him like he was your lifeline. But instead, Jungkook did what he did best. He got his way. Like he always did.

“I think you should go.”

He stiffens at your words, expecting a fight, because that’s what was supposed to happen. You were supposed to argue with him, tell him how much you cared, ask him how he could do this to you after telling you he loves you. He was supposed to console you, let you know that you’d always have him, give himself some leeway to come back if you’d let him. He needed you to let him, needed to have something familiar here whenever he came back to visit. Jungkook thought some space would be good, make the two of you less dependent on each other. But he can’t cushion his words enough, can’t make them sound just right for you to succumb to it, to still beg for him after the shitty way he had gone about it.

“I don’t want to leave things like this. You’re crying.” You realize he’s right when you bring your palms up to pat your damp cheeks, sniffling with a shake of your head. He reaches out for you now and you pull back, scoot to the furthest corner on the couch.

“Jungkook, you need to leave.” It’s getting harder to hold it back now, knowing you can’t look him in the eyes. The second you see his wide doe eyed look, preaching innocence, asking for forgiveness, you know you’ll cave. “Please. Leave.”

It's the crack in your voice that has him nodding, standing up from the couch with a shaky exhale. He hovers for a moment beside you, hand lifting up to try to touch you but he holds back, shoving his hands deep into his pockets before making a slow exit.

Your eyes are focused on the same spot on the couch, burning, stinging as you wait for the door to shut behind him. The second he’s gone you crumble, nasty gasp ripping from your throat as you curl into yourself and allow the tears to fall. It felt stupid to cry over this, to cry over him. That relationship had been dead for so long, no chance of actual revival, destined to fail from the start. Yet you continued to nurture it, urge the sad wilted leaves to grow, gave it everything you possibly could, only for it to end like this.

Through blurry eyes you glance out the window, seeing your messy palm streaks smeared across it and it fills you with rage as you cry. With rattling shoulders and weak legs you haul yourself up, wiping messily at your nose with the shirt on your body before you’re making your way over to the back wall. You zero in on the new addition, the awkwardly sized framed picture of you and Jungkook now in your grasp.

A slow inhale fills the air as you try to catch your breath, staring down at the photo with a cold expression, slowly breaking as the frown on your lip deepens. You want to smash it, you want to smash everything in your house that reminds you of him, burn the stupid box of memories and act like he never existed but as you raise your hands up high above you, ready to bring them down, you can’t.

The vibration of your phone shocks you, makes you pause as you slowly pull it out of the sweats you had slipped on earlier. Your jaw tenses as you see what it is, no doubt was he still lingering in your lobby like he always did.

Jungkook 9:28pm : I leave in two days. Let me make things right. Please.

With trembling hands you click his contact info, scrolling to the bottom and seeing the block contact option. Your teeth bite down on your lower lip as you hover over it, knowing you needed to do this, let him know you were strong enough to walk away, to stay away.

Jungkook 9:30pm : I love you.

Your eyes fall shut at the next text, a shuddering breath escaping you as you decide to throw your device to the other side of the room. It lands with a crack on the floor a few feet away but you pay it no mind, slowly sinking onto the floor with the stupid picture frame still in your hands, pulled close to your chest as silent tears continue to spill onto your cheeks.

The tiny thread of him that you held between your fingers was all you had left, the only thing you had clinging onto him, and you can’t let it go just yet. It makes you feel pathetic as you stare at your phone, fighting the urge to text him back as you cradle the photo.

Like all the other times, a moment of weakness has you setting the frame down, crawling towards your device as you grab it with shaky hands. Through the cracked screen you see another text, simply saying he’s sorry and it only makes you cry harder. Hiccuping sobs that get worse when you realize you’ll never have the strength to block him. The hold he has on you is too strong, leaves you feeling dizzy with what you used to attribute to love, but you’ve known now that it’s anything but.

His contact photo fills your screen, his cute face distorted from the cracks, splitting across his face as his call rings through. With bloodshot eyes your fingers hover over the green accept button, ready to fall back into the same seesaw game you had grown so used to, because it’s routine.

And like always, Jungkook gets his way.

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #new #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #bangtansorciere #heartsforbts #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner

[ickymichi]

can i have some draken nsfw hcs :)

DRAKEN NSFW HEADCANNONS

warnings: nsfw, [choking, impact play, somnophilia, cnc, recording, slight public sex, f! & m! oral], swearing.

things to know: ken is ofc in the present age (i haven’t started the manga i’ve just seen small spoilers n char. info) f!reader, if you’d like it changed lmk!

note: yay first ken post <333 hope these were okayk my luv </3. reblogs are greatly appreciated

© contents belongs to hotboyissei 2021

goes from being all soft, slow and loving..

to absolutely blowing your back out and calling you every name under the sun while you cry out and clutch onto any part of him you can. he knows u luv it though

“take my fucking cock you greedy slut. always beggin’ to be fucked, then cry that it’s too much”

would never do anything you wouldn’t want. even if he was dying to try it out if you say no, it’s not going ahead

likes when you ride him purely bc he loves when your legs start to give out n you beg for him to help you.

also likes doggy just to see and grab your ass. v much an ass n thighs man dc

“shit look at that ass, fuck yourself back that’s it baby”

pls suck his biggie dick <3

shit makes him weak in the knees

just seeing you look up at him with a mouthful of his cock drives him insane.

does enjoy fucking your mouth n cumming down you throat.

“thats it. swallow it all, don’t waste a drop baby”

tried anal with you once and lets just say the back door is now forbidden and never talked about

likes to have you in doggy then pull you up by your hair/shoulder and wrap a hand around your neck while his chest is flush to your back, his mouth next to your ear spewing filthy words.

probably fucks you so hard the headboard has created a dent in the wall.

but, there is times where he can be slow and sweet

holding you close in missionary and just slowly thrusting his hips to meet your own. in no rush to get to his climax, just wants to hold you close <3

“you feel so good doll fuck, love you s’ much”

back to before eheheh

likes to consensually fuck you in your sleep and loves when it wakes you up but, also likes when you stay asleep and wake up confused as to the sticky substance on the inside of your thighs.

walked in on you touching yourself in his hoodie and now mutual masterbation is one of his favourite things on the planet. loves how you look as your fingers try match the pace of his hand and how cute you look all spread out for him.

“look at you, bet your fingers don’t feel as good as mine huh? cunts still sucking them in though, so greedy”

likes a bit of lingerie but really you could wear a trash bag and mf would still hit.

lost his mind the one time you wore cat lingerie y’know buttplug tail, ears, collar. and now asks you to wear it on multiple occasions.

sit.on.his.face!!!

he will literally ascend to the heavens. if you say “i’m too heavy” or “what if you suffocate?”

bitch. that’s the best way to go out, death by pussy? sign him up.

but really loves when you sit on his face and he holds your thighs down n let’s you grind against his face.

speaking of that. this man loves 69ing. how you moan with his cock in your mouth and the vibration makes his hips buck up and he then hears the small noise of you gagging. </3.

“c’mon suck my cock while i eat this pussy. don’t you dare stop until i cum down that throat”

likes to degrade, but also tells you how pretty you look under him, taking his cock or when your looking up at him on your knees.

does take a risk every now and then by fucking you in a club or restaurant bathroom. but not every other day, doesn’t want anyone else to hear how pretty you sound.

likes to watch you two in the mirror or sit you on his lap facing the mirror while he fucks up into you.

also likes to record, with your permission, videos of you sucking his dick or just holding the phone above you while he’s taking you from behind or on your back.

“that’s it, smile for the camera pretty girl.”

#draken x reader #🌹.naughty naughty #draken tokyo revengers #ken ryuguji x reader

[bopbopstyles]

CROWDED PLACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, cursing, some handcuffs)

WORD COUNT: 7.8k

CATEGORIES: roommate!harry, bi!y/n

MASTERLIST |  TALK TO ME | REST OF THE BIFICATHON

a/n: here is my entry for @harrysclementines​​ and i’s bificathon (view them all here)!!!!!! i had prompts 18 and 19 (”Y/N brings home girls and guys (roommate!harry)” and “Harry asks her about the differences in sex between guys and girls”) and here’s what happened. as a bi person i had SUCH a fun time writing this, and i hope you enjoy. named for the BANKS song of the same name. xoxo, love u all my bi angels!

“Are you saying I can just have sex in your bed without you there?”

You grimaced. “Actually on second thought, please don’t do that.”

“Only with you present, I promise.” The words were out of his mouth before he had even processed them, the unabashed flirtation so sexual and clear. It made your eyes widen and you stop midway through the sip of wine you were about to take. He didn’t even know what to say after that—did he apologize? He couldn’t read your face, couldn’t see if you were okay with his words or made you uncomfortable.

“H, are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

The nickname you had for him fell differently in this moment, the sexual context sending blood straight to his pants. “What if I was?”

or

Y/N is bi, Harry’s her roommate and curious

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Harry found out you were bi by walking into your shared kitchen and finding a girl struggling to figure out your shared intricate coffee maker dressed in your clothes, her hair tangled around her shoulders.

“Need help?” He asked, walking toward the stranger in his kitchen.

The girl’s head bounced up at the sound of his voice and sighed. “Fuck, you scared me. Uh, yeah, thanks. I was trying to make coffee for Y/N but…”

He chuckled to himself and nodded for the girl to move to the side. “Nice of you.”

“I’m Emily, by the way,” the girl told him. “You’re Harry, right? Y/N mentioned she had a roommate last night.”

Harry flicked some buttons on the machine, fiddled with the coffee filter, and then the machine whirred to life. “Yeah, I’m Harry. Y/N mentioned she was going to some club last night—that where you two met?”

The girl nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah.”

Harry paused, not really knowing what else to say over the sound of the coffee dropping into the cup situated below the spout. He had come in for some breakfast and coffee, but he didn’t really want to make small talk with your hookup of the week, if he was being honest. So he decided to table coffee, and instead grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet and the milk from the fridge and made himself some cereal.

“Nice meeting you,” he said to the girl before turning around and heading back to his room.

“Bye,” Emily replied and with that he left the kitchen, beelining for the safety of his own space.

Settling down into his bed, he thought about the girl in his kitchen and you, obviously still tucked into your bed. You two had never really had the conversation about your sexualities—you’d become roommates last year through an advertisement you placed on Craigslist and had spent most of the year just figuring one another out and becoming friends. The topic had never really come up and he had just assumed—wrongly, apparently—that you were straight, since he only really saw you with guys. Although, to be fair, there were nights that you didn’t come home and he didn’t know where you ended up on those nights.

He didn’t care in the slightest, just intrigued by this new piece of information he had discovered. He was curious, if he was being honest, but he didn’t really know if it was his place to ask you about it. Was that rude? He didn’t really know. He’d never just…found out about his friends’ sexuality like this, usually they told him outright at some point, so he was in uncharted territory.

Perhaps he’d just let you bring it up. Or he’d mention that he had met Emily in the kitchen, and see where the conversation went. He settled on the latter, deciding that would open the discussion up but not be too aggressive. More than anything, he wanted you to feel comfortable talking to him about these kinds of things, and also know that he didn’t mind who you brought home or dated.

So, he settled into his pillows and turned on Netflix, starting up a crime documentary he hadn’t seen yet, and ate his cereal.

When he resurfaced two hours later, you were in the kitchen with a skillet of eggs cooking, scrolling through something on your phone and sipping on a cup of coffee. You greeted him with a quiet “good morning” and he responded with the same, before going to the sink to rinse out his bowl and place it in the dishwasher next to him. Then he grabbed himself a cup of coffee, adding a dash of milk, and settled in at the breakfast bar.

“So,” he said, making you turn and look at him. “I met Emily this morning.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but then you nodded. “She told me. Said you helped her with the coffee maker.”

“I did.” He took a sip of his coffee and paused, unsure of what to say next. “She seemed nice.”

You stood up and fully turned so you were facing him, your phone forgotten on the counter. “Yeah, she is.”

“Are you going to see her again?”

You seemed a bit shocked by the question, but shook your head. “I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.”

There was the confirmation he’d been seeking—that Emily had in fact been a hook up. “So all the people you’ve brought back…?”

“Are just some fun,” you finished. “Where’s this all coming from? We don’t usually talk about this stuff.”

“I was just trying to figure out if I needed to prepare to have another roommate,” he quipped, and you snorted before turning back around to where your eggs were sizzling in the pan.

“What about you?” You asked him, using the spatula next to the stove to lift the eggs out of the pan and placed them on a light blue glazed plate, one of the ones you’d bought when you moved in and adored. Harry was banned from using them, relegated to the white porcelain ones he’d purchased.

“Sorry?”

You grabbed the salt and pepper and sprinkled a bit on your eggs, then grabbed your slices of toast from the toaster where they were waiting. “Are you looking to date right now?”

He hadn’t been expecting you to throw the question back at him, but he figured you had every right to. He’d asked you, why not share himself? “I mean, if I met the right person I would be. But I’m not like, actively seeking a relationship.”

With a set of silverware in one hand and your plate in the other, you walked towards him, setting your food on the counter on the other side of the bar so you could face him as you ate. For some reason, you loved to eat standing up  and it had never made sense to him. “So you’re not on dating apps and all that? Hinge and that shit?”

He shook his head as you swiveled to grab the jam from the fridge and began to spread it on your toast. “I can never figure out how to talk to people on them. They’re just so awkward.”

You nodded in agreement before taking a bite of your toast. “Meeting people in person is way better. I tried one once and it was so unpleasant. Felt like so much work, you know? Like finding someone shouldn’t feel like a part-time job.”

He chuckled to himself at your observation. “Right? I’d rather just meet someone through friends or something and talk to them, be able to figure out in person if there’s something there.”

“One time I’d been talking to this girl on Bumble for two weeks, we met up, and I immediately was like, ‘fuck I have no sexual interest in her.’ You know? Like there was no chemistry. We would’ve been great friends, but the other stuff? Nada.” You always talked with your hands and even did in this moment, you slice of toast in one hand and a fork in the other.

“What’d you tell her?” He asked, taking another sip of his coffee as you took a bite of egg.

“The truth,” you said, covering your mouth as you spoke and chewed at the same time. He loved how comfortable you two had become with each other, the natural result of sharing an 800-square foot apartment with another person. “And then she texted me like a month later saying she thought ‘We had really good energy’ and wanted to see if I was interested. So I had to tell her again that I wasn’t interested.”

“Shit,” he said. “That’s brutal.”

“Yep,” you replied, popping the p of the word as you took another bite of your breakfast. “So, what are you up to today?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

“I was planning to go to IKEA to look at a new bed frame and look at all the room set-ups—want to come with?”

It was one of your favorite shared activities, which you had discovered when he had moved in and needed to buy a whole host of new furniture. You’d tagged along since you knew the apartment better, and you’d ended up spending practically the whole day inside. Since then, it was your rainy day activity.

“What’s wrong with your current bed frame?”

You shrugged, picking up your toast and taking a final bite. “It creaks too much. I think it’s just old, so I want something different.”

Harry tried not to think about why your bed creaked so much, and instead told you he’d come with.

Harry was pushing you around IKEA and frankly you were having the time of your life. Just to piss him off you’d gotten into the cart, folding up your body and leaning against the front of the cart, and he’d just rolled his eyes at you and called you a child before rolling the cart towards the entrance to the store.

You had made it through the bathroom section without much incident, but when you had reached the living rooms you had decided that you simply had to try out all of the couches, even though neither of you needed to buy one. Together you developed a rating scale—firmness of cushions, bounce level, and ability to lay down comfortably. A couple ranked high on all three scales, but none just blew you away, so you jointly decided you definitely didn’t need to invest in another couch for no reason.

In the kitchen department, you both oohed and ahhed over countertops and backsplashes, pointing out appliances you desperately wanted. You tried to convince Harry that you really needed new bar stools, but he wasn’t swayed. However, he did relent and allow you to buy some new spatulas and other kitchen utensils after you told him they were replacements for the current ones, which were two years old at least.

Finally, you reached the beds. Bed after bed laid out in front of you, just waiting for you to try them out and see which one was both sturdy and sleek. You beelined for the first one, sitting down on the mattress and looking up at Harry, who was leaning on his elbows on the handlebar of the cart and watching you.

“Come test it out with me,” you said, patting the bed next to you. “I need to see how the weight of two people feels on it.”

His eyebrows furrowed, but he left the cart and moved towards you. He was dressed in one of his favorite sweatshirt, a black one he’d gotten in Tokyo at a DJ Harvey and Keb Darge party, and a pair of blue jeans with a frayed hem, and white Vans with the pink and blue laces you’d given him for his birthday threaded through each one of the shoes, a beanie covering his curls and his black sunglasses tucked into the neck of the sweatshirt. You adored Harry’s clothes, frequently stealing them which he found aggravating and you loved doing for that very reason.

He settled on to the bed next to you, his knee knocking against yours as he settled back on his hands. “So? Thoughts?”

His eyes flickered over to you. “Seems sturdy enough, but I hate the headboard.”

You turned to look at the headboard, which was just one long piece of skinny blond wood. Upon investigation, you also hated it. “Agreed. Next one!” You scampered over to the next one, which had a wrought iron headboard in black and you quite liked the look of it. The rest of your furniture was black and your duvet was a light blue, so it would fit in perfectly. “What do you think of this one?”

Harry moved to sit next to you and shrugged. “Seems good.”

“The headboard up to par for you?”

“I like it. You?”

You nodded and then looked at him, deadpanning, “You could hook handcuffs through it.”

Harry choked on air, before bursting into laughter at your comment. “Is that a priority for you? The ability to handcuff someone to your headboard?”

“Honestly, yeah. Otherwise what good is it?”

He bit back a smile, and then turned to look at the other beds around you. “Well on that basis, we can cut out most of the beds here. Ones like these are the best, nothing that’s wood.”

“Know from personal experience, do you?” Harry blushed and you poked his side. “Didn’t know you were so kinky, Styles.”

“Right back at you,” he replied. “So what other tests are involved in the purchase of a bed?”

“Well,” you began, pushing yourself higher on the bed. “Mine creaks a ton, so I need to know how much this one does.”

He glanced between you and the bed, and then the number of people around. “What’s your plan? Jump on the bed or something?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. Got a better idea?”

“You could like, try and push it forward and back?”

“Go for it.”

Harry stood up and walked to the head of the bed, grabbing onto the frame and pulled it forward and back—or tried to. The headboard didn’t budge and you watched with a quirked smile. “It’s not moving,” he mumbled. “Maybe that’s good? Means it’s strong and all that?”

For being two 26-year-olds, you realized, the two of you still didn’t know much about furniture. “Probably. But I still think we should do the jump test.”

“I am not jumping on that bed with you.”

“Harry…”

“No, Y/N, we’re in the middle of a store!”

You huffed out a breath. “Fine.” Then, you turned over and got up on your hands and knees and pushed all of your weight into the mattress and moved backward and forth, trying to see if it would creak or sway as you moved. You could feel Harry’s eyes on your form but you paid him no mind, your focus on the task at hand.

Harry, meanwhile, swallowed thickly as he watched you, the sway of your body sending thoughts he really shouldn’t have been having through his head. Did you realize what you were doing? The position you were in and what it made him think of? Probably not.

“I think this one’s actually pretty good,” you informed him, turning over and lying down on the mattress. “Should I get the mattress too? I’ve had mine for like five years. What’s the lifespan on a mattress?”

“Dunno,” Harry answered, leaning his arm against the wrought iron headboard. “Can you afford both?”

You groaned and sat up. “Why on earth did you have to bring up money? I was having so much fun until you got all responsible on me.”

“Hey, someone’s got to have some sense in our apartment.”

“And that someone is you?”

“You’re the one who wanted to jump on beds in the middle of IKEA on a Saturday, not me.”

You huffed out a sigh and pushed yourself off the bed, coming to standing. “Come on, let’s go look at desks.”

“So you’re getting this one?”

You nodded. “It’s the best one for the handcuffs, isn’t it?” He blushed and you walked ahead of him, letting him push the cart after you.

You spent the rest of Saturday deconstructing your old bed frame and building your new one with Harry’s help. It was definitely a two person job—screwing together the support pieces to the headboard and placing the slats properly, lifting your mattress onto your new bed. By the end of the whole process you were tired, hungry, and a bit cranky, but you had a new bed that you adored. Harry ordered you both pizza, and you opened a bottle of red wine once you’d finished your food, pouring you both a glass.

Harry was sitting on the couch, his sweatshirt long gone, in just his jeans and a black t-shirt stretched across his muscular upper body. In the year he’d lived with you, he’d gained a significant amount of muscle mass, transforming from the more ropey guy who moved in, into this man who looked like a fucking Greek God after a day in the sun. You carried over the wine, handing him his glass and setting the bottle on the table for refills that would definitely occur.

You picked up the remote, anticipating a night of re-watching each of your favorite trashy teen dramas from the early 2000s (yours was What a Girl Wants or the Lizzie McGuire Movie, depending on your mood) when Harry spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” you answered, taking a sip of your wine and opening the Netflix app on your TV.

“It might be a bit too personal, so if you don’t want to answer, just don’t—“

“Harry, just spit it out,” you said, cutting him off.

“What’s the difference in sex between guys and girls?” His question was rushed, but you made out every word and it made you choke on your wine a bit.

You set down your wine glass and turned to fully face him. “Like…generally?”

The blush that crept across his cheeks was endearing, obviously regretting the question once it was out of his mouth. “I don’t know. Fuck, forget I asked—“

“It’s fine,” you told him. You considered his question, mulling over the experiences you’d had with both sexes and comparing the two. To be honest, you didn’t spend much time comparing them because they were different in so many ways. “The most glaring thing,” you began, “is that sex with women can just keep on going until one of you like…can’t anymore. There’s no waiting or anything like there is with guys. So it means that it’s really intense for like a long period of time.”

He was listening intently, fingers tight around his wine glass as you spoke. To be frank, you couldn’t really believe you were having this conversation with Harry of all people. “I guess it’s also different because you don’t have penetration with girls—at least, not in the same way. I’ve never used a strap-on with anyone, just like oral and hands, so it means those things are more intense, in my opinion. Also, girls are really fucking good at oral—not that guys aren’t—but it’s just so good.”

“What makes them better?”

“Not better,” you said, “just different. Softer, in my opinion—like their fingers and hands are softer. And they also can figure out what you need faster, or maybe that’s just the people I’ve been with. There’s definitely something to be said for being a woman and knowing what other women need.”

If it wasn’t for the wine in his hand, Harry might not have had the courage to have this conversation. It had been sitting in the back of his mind for ages, before he even found out you were bi, but now that he knew you were you were one of the few people he could talk to about something like this. You were also one of the few people he trusted to have this conversation with and it to not become too awkward. He felt more comfortable around you than he did with most other people, that was for sure. He considered what you had said, mulling the words over in his head. Softer. He understood that—he loved the softness of women when they touched him, their longer fingernails and the kitten licks they spread over his body.

“Why do you ask?” You tucked your legs up, hooking your arm around your knees as you took another sip of your wine.

He chewed on his lip for a minute, rubbing his finger across the exterior of his glass. “I was just curious, I guess. I didn’t know you were bi until you brought Emily back, so I just started thinking about it a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you told him. “I guess I didn’t even realize you didn’t know, to be honest. I don’t really feel the need to constantly be coming out to people, if that makes sense. Especially if I trust that they won’t care either way.”

“It does.” He shifted forward, taking another sip of his wine and mirroring your position. “And I don’t care either way, just so you know.”

You gave him a smile. “I appreciate that.” You fiddled with the hem of your pajama shorts, the old ratty blue ones from Target you’d had since college, before asking the question floating around in your head. “Now that you’ve asked me a sexual question, it’s my turn.” His eyebrows jumped, but he nodded his okay. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to try?”

“Are you asking me about my kinks?” He asked, a playful grin on his face, and your eyes fluttered down in embarrassment. “To be honest, I haven’t really tried all that much—haven’t been in that many relationships where I feel comfortable trying stuff out, you know?”

“You’ve obviously tried handcuffs,” you quipped, and he blushed.

“I haven’t, actually. Just…thought about it, I guess.”

“Well,” you said, the wine emboldening you, “you’re always welcome to try it with my bed.”

He laughed, one of his full body ones that made you smile widely at him. “Are you saying I can just have sex in your bed without you there?”

You grimaced. “Actually on second thought, please don’t do that.”

“Only with you present, I promise.” The words were out of his mouth before he had even processed them, the unabashed flirtation so sexual and clear. It made your eyes widen and stop midway through the sip of wine you were about to take. He didn’t even know what to say after that—did he apologize? He couldn’t read your face, couldn’t see if you were okay with his words or made you uncomfortable.

But then you saved him, giving him a small and flirtatious smile, one he’d only seen you give others, never him. The one where your eyes had a fire to the edges, a slight curve to your pink lips, your tongue dart out to wet them. “H, are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

The nickname you had for him fell differently in this moment, the sexual context sending blood straight to his pants. “What if I was?”

The conversation had taken a rapid turn and it had your skin warming, your brain abuzz. What if he was? You had to admit, you’d always found Harry attractive, from that first moment you met him in a coffee shop after he responded to your Craigslist ad. You had always told yourself it was just normal attraction, the same attraction you had to that boy you’d known your entire life and knew was attractive but never actually considered anything more with. It was platonic. You lived with the guy, for Pete’s sake—you witnessed his messy room and how he struggled to cook fish properly and when he had vomited after a night out with his friends. You’d seen him at his worst and at his best, but so had he.

Living with Harry had brought you close in a way you didn’t expect—you didn’t necessarily share everything with him, but he knew you in a way few others did. He could read you well, know how your day was by the way you entered the apartment. You liked the same type of movies, you had routines, you shared about your families over pasta dinners and a bottle of wine when the power was out and you had nowhere else to be. More than anything, you felt safe with him, comfortable, valued. He had always gone out of his way to make sure you felt comfortable with living with him and you thought he was honestly the best roommate you had ever had. You were endlessly grateful he responded to the ad and you’d ended up living with him.

But sex with him? Would it change everything? Probably. Would it change it for the worst, though? You weren’t sure. “Would it change anything?” You asked hesitantly.

He paused, the tension between you thick in your small living room, the soft light from the lamp in the corner basking you both in a warm yellow glow. “Not unless we wanted it to.”

You swallowed thickly. “Then I wouldn’t say no,” you said, voice soft.

Harry’s eyes were boring a hole in yours, his breaths shallow and frequent, panting as you both stared at each other, trying to figure out if what you thought was going to happen would actually occur. “Are you sure?” He asked, leaning slightly towards you.

You lowered your legs so that your knees weren’t up to your chest, and pushed your body closer to his in answer. He reached out and hesitantly brought his hand up to your cheek, his palm warm against your skin, finding your gaze before leaning in to close the distance between you.

The second his lips brushed yours you wondered why you hadn’t done this earlier. With his hand cupping your cheek, he pulled you in closer, his free arm wrapping around your lower back and tugging you into his body. He tasted like pizza and red wine and you thought that you probably did too. Your hands reached up to grip the back of his neck, holding him closer to you and shifting towards him. It felt electric, kissing him, and you were falling into it faster than you could think, craving more and more from him, desperate for his touch and the way he prodded open your lips and touched your tongue with his own.

He was grabbing at your hips, squeezing your skin through your pajamas shorts and the oversized band t-shirt you wore, the pads of his fingers digging into you and his rings heavy against your clothes. Fuck it you decided, and pushed back on his shoulders a bit, unwinding your legs, and swinging them onto either side of his hips, settling firmly into his lap. He looked surprised at your movement, but not mad, especially whenever you adjusted and brushed over his hard-on.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips when you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as you kissed him. Pushing up the hem of your shirt, his fingers danced across your back, sliding up your bare skin. You never wore a bra at home, something he’d long ago gotten used to, but to have you pressed to his front, your nipples peaking out, and feeling your bare back under his hand was a completely different experience.

You tugged on the ends of his hair and he groaned into your mouth, a smile spreading across your lips that were between his. With your teeth you tugged on his bottom lip, pulling it away from his mouth and watching as his eyes fell to your mouth, his chest rising and falling as you let go of his lip and sat an inch away from him. Then, he was surging forward again, holding your head in one of his hands and pulling your mouth back to his, chasing you.

Everything about the moment felt good—from the way his hands felt on you to the smell of his cologne and the shower gel you both used, the shared laundry detergent on his clothes. His lips on yours, the prod of his tongue against yours, the way the sounds that left him rang in your ears. Your chest was crushed against his, knees tight against his hips, pushing him back into the pillow behind his head so that you were both horizontal on the couch, your body hovering over his.

The two of you lingered in that position, letting the swivel of your hips over his pelvis draw moans from you both, soft and breathy sounds that filled your living room. Harry’s hands ran under your shirt and then back down to your hips to guide you, a path he repeated over and over again and you weren’t complaining. You loved the feeling of his hands on your body. You were resting fully on his chest, your nipples hard under your shirt as you ground yourself against him, your forearms resting on the pillow behind his head for leverage.

When his hips bucked up into yours, you couldn’t help but rasp his name, a “Harry,” falling from your lips with ease. You trailed your lips down his neck in response, pushing at the neck of his shirt to find the spot at the base of his neck where you sucked harshly. His fingers pressed tighter on your hips and you smiled against his skin. “Like that?” You asked, licking over the mark you’d made.

“Yeah,” he said, rolling your hips over his. You could feel how hard he was through your pajama shorts and his jeans and you were curious. Living with him you’d seen him in just his briefs and the occasional swimsuit when he was heading to the pool with friends, but you’d never seen him fully nude. However, you had a pretty good idea of his size and you couldn’t say you weren’t eager.

Slowly, you inched your hand down his chest, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt, loving the noises that spilled from his mouth at the feeling. When your hand reached his jeans, though, he pulled at your wrist, ripping you away. “What?”

“I wanna do you,” he said. “You were talking earlier about oral and now I’m curious where I fall on the scale.”

He was going to kill you, wasn’t he? “Okay,” you told him, pressing your palm into his torso. “Where do you want to be?”

“Bed,” he replied, nudging at your nose. “Let’s see how much that new bed creaks.”

You pushed up off of him, and he followed you to your bed with his hands on your hips, tugging you back into his chest mid-way through the way to kiss you again, pulling a gasp from your throat when he surprised you. When you pushed open your door, for the first time there was no point in closing it behind you because the only other person who could have seen what was happening was already in the room with you. Harry’s body mirrored yours as you stepped backwards towards your bed, following you as you fell onto the duvet that you had placed there only a matter of hours earlier.

You wanted his skin, to see him and feel him in this way, and so you pushed at the hem of his shirt, the word, “Off,” sticking in your throat when he pulled it up and off of his body, tossing it to the side without consequence. Bare skin stretched in front of you, covered in swirlings of black ink that you had seen before, but never like this. Never when it was yours to see, to touch, to feel. So you took full advantage, sliding your palms up his chest as he leaned back down.

“Your turn,” he mumbled, sucking on your nipple through your shirt, your back arching towards his mouth in a silent beg for more. Fingers pressed into the sliver of your stomach that was exposed, and you raised your arms as if to tell he could push it off, which he did, creeping the fabric up your body and leaving kisses in the wake of the hem. Once it was over your head, he licked over your bare nipple and your a wet mewl left your lips.

“H,” you rasped, tugging on the locks of his hair, the strands threading between your fingers.

His head bounced up, the forest green of his irises barely visible, his pupils blown out with desire. “What?”

You opened your legs wider, and Harry smiled devilishly at you, giving your cleavage on final pull with his lips before creeping down your body. You didn’t stop him when he went to tug off your shorts, nor did you stop him when he laid between your legs, or when he licked and sucked and pulled at your inner thighs, making your chest shudder with desperation.

Nor did you stop him when his tongue touched your clit, licking a straight line up from your slit to your bud. Instead, you gasped his name, a curse mixed in falling from your lips, and tugged his head closer to you. He’d collected saliva on his tongue without you realizing it and the wetness of it was running all over your hot skin, a distinct slurping noise filling the air that only made it hotter. You picked up your head and watched in rapture as he licked into you, his curls falling into his face as he moved between your legs.

He alternated between sucking on your clit and swiping at your slit, nudging his tongue into you just to drive you crazy. Which he succeeded in doing, based on how your hips picked up when he did it, chasing the pressure he left in his wake. He was turning you into a mess, a mess only for him, desire and your orgasm falling through you faster than usual. For some reason he had been concerned about how good he was, but now he was between your legs and you didn’t know how you had gone twenty-six years without him. How you had lived with him for a year and never felt him like this, seen him like this—his head tilting up and the sight of your juices on coating his lips and chin, his tongue darting out to taste them.

“So?” He asked, pressing into your plush thighs, his rings leaving an indentation in their wake. “Where do I fit on the scale?”

“You haven’t made me come,” you responded, voice rough, breath catching in your lungs as you tried to inhale properly.

A wicked smile flashed onto his face, and then he brushed his tongue in a circle around your clit, your fingers tightening in his hair. “I’m not done yet.” Then he was back between your legs, drawing mewls and moans from you like it was his job, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the mattress, back arching as you tried to grind down on his face. You could feel your walls tightening around nothing and you needed something there, a little bit more.

“Your fingers,” you said, picking up your head to look at him. “I need your fingers.”

Harry glanced up at you, before he answered your plea with his touch, not his words. Not being a man for warning, the tips of his forefinger and middle finger brushed at your entrance just once before pushing inside of you, a deep and unrelenting moan flowing from you with ease. “Yeah? That feel good?”

You could tell he liked praise and so you tightened your hold on his hair and muttered a Yes, bringing his lips back to your center as he drove his fingers inside of you at a brutal pace. The sound of his fingers and your wetness echoed in your ears, but the louder sound was Harry’s grunts and moans and curses below you whenever he brought his head up for air. Somehow, he seemed to be enjoying this as much as you, which definitely gave him some bonus points in your book.

“Gonna come for me, Y/N?” His words were rough and deep, a lower octave to his voice you hadn’t heard before, and it made you desperate for him. Your hips pushed down against his hand, craving more inside of you, and that was when the cold metal of his rings brushed your entrance. The coldness against the warmth of your skin felt heavenly and you mewled at the touch, Harry chuckling lightly from where he laid.

You could feel your belly tightening, the tell tale sign of an orgasm quickly approaching, but you needed just barely more from him. You didn’t know what it was, but you needed more. So you asked, a “More, please,” leaving your mouth in a chant.

He was unfazed, doubling his pace inside of you and suckling on your clit repeatedly before letting his lips fall to your entrance, slipping around the taught skin with his tongue to add to the sensation. It had your back arching and you knew you were mere seconds away. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you called into the room, your grip on his hair lethal as he licked you into your orgasm.

It crashed into you and he fucked you through it with his fingers, sucking and pulling on your bud as you rode his fingers, back arched and a series of curses circling around you. “Beautiful,” you barely heard him mumble into your skin, the low rumble of his voice sending vibrations through you.

Once you’d regained your breath he was crawling up the length of your body, kisses littered across your bare skin. “Fuck,” you said, a chuckle leaving you as you were reacquainted with the sight of his face hovering above you.

“So?” He asked, hands coming to rest on either side of your head. “What’s my rating?”

You tugged at his neck and dropped his body to yours, his lips meeting yours in a cruel fire. You rolled your hips up and wrapped your legs around his waist, shoving him to the side that he rotated, falling to his back and you above him. “You know exactly how good you are,” you told him, licking and pulling at his neck. “You arrogant asshole.”

A laugh rumbled in his chest, his hands coming to sit on your waist as you brushed back and forth on his jeans. “I distinctly remember you asking me not to stop, so I’m going to go with a high rating? Perhaps the best of all the men who have come before me?”

You knew his ego was big enough that you didn’t need to inflate it, but for some reason you did anyways. “You’d be right about that,” you told him, shoving his legs apart so you could sit between them and popping the button on his jeans. “Now, can I fuck you?”

Harry laughed one of his full body laughs, his head raising off the bed at your words. “Yeah, go ahead, sweetheart,” he said once he’d calmed, a smile stretched across his face at the sight of you between his knees.

With a roll of your eyes, you tugged on the denim, pulling it down his legs. “Do you ever wear underwear?” You asked him, pushing the material off the bed and gazing at his erect pink cock resting on his belly.

“Why?”

“Just trying to figure out how you manage to walk around with that thing and no underwear.”

“Oi!” He said, a frown fixing onto his lips at your laughter. “It’s not a thing, it’s my dick and it’s about to be fucking you, so no mean words, hmm?”

When your fingers wrapped around him all of his laughter and complaints were gone with a string of curse words, his hips bucking up at your touch. You pumped him a few times, nosing at his thigh just to rile him up a bit more. He was warm and heavy in your grip. For the most part, you found dicks the same as all body parts, but Harry’s was beautiful in a way few were. It made you even wetter than he had left you and gathered saliva on your tongue, and when you pushed on the tip delicately with your thumbpad and heard him groan, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer.

You pushed up off of the bed and he whined at your absence, but you ignored him. You had a mission. Rifling through your bedside table, you finally landed on the item you were searching for—the handcuffs you’d purchased a few months ago and had been waiting to try out.

Harry’s eyes widened at the clink of the metal and watched as you swung them on your finger, a coy smile on your face. “Remember these?” You asked, moving to the headboard where you threaded through the wrought iron. “Didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?”

“No,” he said, gulping and raising his wrists to you, pliant as ever.

“Good,” you answered, a kiss to each of his wrists before securing them in the handcuffs, tugging on the chain to make sure it would hold. “Now then.” You re-positioned yourself over his hips, one knee on either side, and trailed your fingers down his chest. “You look so pretty laid out for me like this.”

Harry’s mind was spinning as he gazed up at you. He’d never felt quite like this—so powerless, but so desperate for someone. You’d turned him to mush with just a few touches and he wanted you in a way he had needed few. The handcuffs weren’t what did it, either, it was the way you touched him, the quirk of your smile and your laughter, how you had bucked into his face, how your fingers touched his skin. He didn’t realize until he was underneath you how long he had been waiting to be there at your mercy, willing to take any shred you’d give him.

“You okay?” You asked, voice soft as you touched his cheek.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I’m okay.”

You leaned down and kissed his chest, before snatching the condom you’d laid out on the duvet. Rolling it down his length he hissed at the touch, but you tried to be gentle, knowing that the handcuffs were probably a lot. Then, you rose up onto your knees, positioning yourself over him, and raised his cock, brushing the tip against your entrance. Your eyes found his as you lowered onto him, a groan leaving both of your chests as you took him.

“Holy shit,” he said as your hips met him, his length fully inside of you. “Shit, Y/N.”

You rocked back and forth on him, your fingernails digging into his chest at the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside of you. “Feels so good,” you mumbled, your words long gone from making sense. It always happened—you lost the ability to think about what you were saying, words becoming a string of consciousness. “So deep, H.”

“Yeah?” You could hear the handcuffs rattling against your headboard as you moved over him, but the bed wasn’t creaking yet, just shifting back and forth. His hips raised up to yours, pushing him deeper inside of you somehow and it made you both moan, deep and unrestrained.

Not having to censor your sounds was a completely different experience and you loved it. Your eyes flickered up to where his wrists were clasped in the handcuffs, his nails digging into his palms, the cross tattoo on his thumb shining in the light of your bedroom. “How do they feel?” You asked, bouncing up and down on him.

He couldn’t answer at first, mind swimming from the tight metal on his wrists and the way you held him inside of you so snugly. His whole body was warm, from his sweat and your touch and just the overwhelming desire rolling through him. “Like them,” he finally got out, because he did. Something about the restraints made it more intense, the fact that he couldn’t touch you, the fact that you were just fucking him like you wanted to. It was making his orgasm rush towards him, a twitching throughout his body he was barely staving off.

“They’re hot,” you said, using your knees you speed up your tempo, needing him faster inside of you. “Like seeing you all tied up.”

Usually you didn’t feel this comfortable this quickly with someone you were hooking up with, but with Harry you knew he would never judge him. You trusted him fully and here, in this room, was no different. “I’m close,” he rasped when you swiveled your hips, brushing him against your g-spot and whining out his name.

“Yeah?” Your fingernails crept down his torso leaving long red marks in their wake. “Wanna see you come, H,” you mumbled, splaying your palms out on his abdomen, which was taut from the pleasure he was trying to hold off.

“Fuck,” he yelled when you clenched down on him, his hips bouncing up immediately, slamming against yours. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” then he was coming, the combination of the cold metal on his wrists leaving him at your mercy and the tightness you held around him combining to send him toppling over the edge.

You bent over, your torso resting on his and fucked yourself on him as best you could, not wanting to overwhelm him but also chasing your own release. The sound of your name on his tongue, a raw and unhinged moan ripping through him from his own sensitivity. “Close,” you said, kissing across his collarbone and blowing softly on the mark you’d left earlier.

The sight of his eyes screwed shut and the panting of his breath, the way his chest heaved as he tried to calm down, mixed with him begging for you to find your release left you squirming above him, body rattling with your orgasm. You clenched down on him as you came and he grunted at the feeling, but you couldn’t stop it, a call of his name leaving your mouth.

It left you worn-out and desperate for cuddles, so you reached up, unfastening the handcuffs and releasing his wrists. His hands found your skin immediately, hooking them around your back and pulling you flush. You lifted up off of him so that he could pull the condom off and you whimpered at the loss. “Tired,” you mumbled into his chest.

“S’okay,” he replied, kissing the top of your forehead. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shutting your eyes against his skin. “How was that?”

He let out a breath, taut and tight in the room. “Fucking insane,” he answered, and you giggled next to him as he pinched your ass lightly. “You’ve been hiding that from me for all this time, huh?”

“Guess so.”

He chuckled, nudging your forehead with his chin. “Think you might want to do that again sometime?”

You picked up your head, opening your eyes to look at him. “Sure I didn��t scare you off with the handcuffs?”

“Fuck no,” he replied in a rush. “Blew my mind.”

“Then yeah,” you told him. “As long as it’s my turn next.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up, and then a grin spread across his face. “Your turn, eh?”

His red-tinged wrists wrapped around you and smothered you in kisses, your hands batting at his body in a fit of laughter, but he didn’t quit. Instead, he pulled you close, a final press of his lips to your cheek, and you settled in against his body, knowing he’d be there in the morning.

He was your roommate, after all—where else did he have to be?

thank you for reading!!!! please go check out the other writers in the bificathon here, reblog this fic, and come chat with me in my inbox about this fic if you liked it. xoxo love you all!

#harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x mc #harry styles smut #harry styles bi fic #bi reader #bi fic #bisexual fic #harry styles bisexual reader #harry styles roommate #harry styles x roommate #roommate!harry styles

[behindyourbarrette]

like you a latte - peppermint tea

←previous | series masterlist | join my taglist | next part ->

pairing: spencer reid x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: discussion of illness (its like the flu lol), but other than that none

a/n: hiiii discokitchen here! new url but same series :)) hope u guys enjoy this chapter! pls pls pls leave me feedback or reblog if you liked, it helps me out so so soooo much and i appreciate u endlessly 

---

Twilight Time is incredibly short-staffed. 

Tyler called to tell you himself, in hysterics. You had to comfort him over the phone, rolling out of bed and tugging your uniform on as he panicked. You made your way through your apartment, stepping over the mess of textbooks and notes on your floor to reach the door. It's been a busy few months at school, and when you’re stressed chairs feel like an inconvenience.

“I can come in, yeah. No, I’m not sick. I’ll be fine.”

You’re already afraid of what you’ll find waiting for you at the store. Flu season has ravaged Quantico. Between college kids spreading mono like the plague—you cringe as you recall your own excruciatingly painful and embarrassing brush with Epstein-Barr in high school—and the bacteria-growing capabilities of autumn, the city has become a breeding ground. There’s at least two viruses going around, not including strep. All of your coworkers have been bedridden, intermittently, for the past few weeks. You haven’t seen Spencer much, either. What used to be near-daily visits have stretched into every few days, then once a week. It stings in a way that it shouldn’t.

You bike to the store quickly, ignoring the nagging feeling in your chest. You can easily work a double, but something about today feels off. You get inside the storefront and set up, and it’s only a few minutes before a very rare sight greets you.

It’s Spencer, of course.

Something is wrong. He enters quietly, and doesn’t meet your eye until he’s at the register. When you notice him, mid-scribble of a customer’s name, it’s clear that something is different.

You’re no profiler, but some things are said without words. His eyes are red. He looks paler than usual, and he’s sniffling. There’s a five o’clock shadow ghosting across his jawline, and you gulp. Despite how distracting the latter is, you manage to put the pieces together.

Fuck. Spencer Reid is sick.

You finish up with your customer, reaching for a cup. 

“Can I get the chai-“ “I’m making you peppermint tea. Caffeine can’t help. Why aren’t you at home?”

You pour hot water over two tea bags and wait, eyeing him suspiciously. He averts your gaze, shrugging his shoulder in the most disinterested gesture you’ve ever seen Spencer make. 

“I’m fine. I’m headed into work.”

You can’t mask the distaste and shock on your face. This man will be the death of you. 

“You aren’t a medical doctor. I call bull. Sit down and wait for your tea to steep.” You don’t like bossing people around, but the feverish sheen of his skin worries you. To your surprise, he listens, plopping into the seat at the bar that you have grown to expect him in. His shoulders slump as he fixes his eyes on the tea.

“Aren’t you going to tell me about how peppermint is a natural anesthetic? Or how it’s antimicrobial and good for your gut health?” You add a sprig of fresh mint to the top of the drink, drizzling honey over it. You’ve never stepped into this role before, taking care of anyone but yourself. It’s strange to wonder whether his throat hurts, whether he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, how you can make it better. You ignore all of the above in favor of placing the cup in front of him and urging him to take it. It’s probably for the best that you stick to what you know.

“You sound like me.”

His voice is raspy and hoarse, light with his attempt at humor, and it sends a sinful wave of something down your spine. It’s immediately followed by guilt; he’s sick, for fuck’s sake, and you shake the feeling off as you watch him angrily sip at his tea. He can’t joke his way out of this.

“Maybe we’ve been spending too much time together.”

While you intended it as a joke, his face falls, and he covers his mouth with his mug. You falter, stammering to form a response.

“I’m kidding. But really. You can’t go into work like this.”

He frowns, wrinkling his nose. You lean forward, trying your hardest to keep your face level and your tone firm.

“They need me. Profilers don’t take sick days.”

You scoff, untying your apron with deft fingers. He cocks an eyebrow at you, watching as you hang the apron up on its hook. 

“That’s dumb. I’m only here because all of my coworkers are out with,” you wave your hand in his general direction, “whatever’s going around. It’s not your choice to be sick. They should understand.”

He shrugs, eyes faraway. He stays zoned out until you cross the coffee bar, standing before him with your hands on your hips.

“What are you doing?”

You roll your eyes. He scans your face, eyes a little panicked as you speak.

“I’m taking you home. Come on. I can call you a cab.” He shakes his head, quick to offer a string of excuses and “I’m fine’s” and reasons to leave him be. You grab his arm, encased in a puffy winter jacket, and tug him towards the door. As you push him out of the shop, you flip the switch and the ‘Open’ sign falls dark.

“You have to work, you can’t just leave—“ He’s acting like a child, dragging his feet as you urge him onto the sidewalk. You laugh. 

“I’m taking the day. Tyler will deal.”

“Who’s Tyler?” He rasps, and you laugh. It’s only after you’ve successfully hailed a taxi that Spencer enlightens you with the fact that he lives in the apartment building across the street. 

“Oh.” 

After explaining the situation to a very disgruntled taxi driver, waving him away, and asking why Spencer never mentioned that sooner, you manage to cajole Spencer across the street and up a few flights of stairs. His apartment is on the third floor, situated on the corner.  It’s a nice apartment building—the doorman eyes you dubiously before Spencer assures him that you’re a friend. Once outside his door, he fishes in his pockets for his keys, clearly stalling, before you speak.

“I’m sorry if I’m intruding. I’m just worried about you. I can, uh, go now.” You shove your hands in your pockets, the reality that you’ve just invited yourself in—and probably derailed his plans for the day— setting in. He sniffs in response, the tip of his nose a sickeningly adorable shade of pink.

“No, ’s fine. You’re right. As usual.” He finds his keys, shoving them into the lock and opening the door with little ceremony. It swings open to reveal Spencer’s apartment, lightly cedar scented and dim. 

Spencer stumbles inside, kicking off his shoes and sinking into the couch. You follow, his tea in hand, trying not to noticeably gawk at what you see. He could probably start his own personal archives, given the quantity of books on the shelves and newspapers scattered across the room. 

You move to sit next to him, but he waves you away. Fear pulses in your throat, but as he rubs at his temples, he opens one eye. Upon seeing that you haven’t moved, he continues.

“Keep your distance. I’m probably contagious.” A small smile blooms on your face, and you shake your head. 

“I don’t get sick.”

This is a blatant lie, and while you’re happy to tell it Spencer doesn't seem delighted to hear it. You take another step towards him, and he shrinks even further into himself. One hand clamped over his mouth, he waves you away.

“Seriously. I don’t think you understand the consequences of airborne particles." It’s clear his concern is genuine; you remember that he doesn’t shake hands, and seems generally concerned with germs. Instead of humoring him, you offer no reaction, your face blank as you stand before him. He shifts, trying another tactic.

“Everyone gets sick.”

You shake your head, revealing the tea in your hand. From an adequate distance away, you hand it to him. 

“Not me. Immune system of steel.”

He doesn’t laugh at your joke, and your heart sinks as you begin to realize that something is very wrong. His eyes are absent, and he’s sipping at his tea in a way that allows him to move only centimeters. He’s clearly in pain, and he doesn’t want you to know. 

You decide that in order for this to work, you have to catch him off guard. Instead of pushing the limits now, you opt to poke around his apartment instead.

Well. Not really his apartment. You tell yourself you’re only looking in his medicine cabinet for a fever reducer, and maybe a cough suppressant, but it’s hard not to absorb the rest of his home.

It’s ridiculously in character; the whole apartment feels dim and cozy, dark browns and greens coating the decor and feel of the rooms. There are books and newspapers all over every free surface, arranged intentionally but in an order that is lost on you. He collects vinyl—you spot an extensive classical music section, with Dvorak and Vivaldi and Elgar records popping out at you. To your surprise, there’s even a Nat King Cole original pressing, tucked into the corner of the stack. 

You return to the couch, where Spencer is sitting upright. He’s finished his tea, and is now flicking through a book. He’s not really reading, though—you know when he is, and can tell when he’s lingering too long on one page. This fact makes you smile as you sink into the couch beside him, tucking your legs beneath you.

In any other circumstance, you’d ask. 

You don’t. Before he can object, you reach out and press the back of your hand to his forehead. The gesture is gentle, and you can feel heat burn against your skin as you linger. A little distantly, it occurs to you that this is the first time you’ve touched.

“You’re burning up. At least take an Advil.” He doesn’t say anything. His hair falls into his face as he takes the pills, sipping at a cool glass of water. You watch, trying to memorize the way his chest rises and falls, how…disarmed he looks. It’s clear that this place is home to him, and you feel strangely honored to be inside.

He has a TV, to your surprise. You fumble with the remote for a few minutes before you manage to put on a movie, and Spencer sinks into the couch cushions. You keep your distance, perched on the arm, while he falls asleep. He looks peaceful in sleep, in spite of his fever, and in the very back of your mind you wonder how it would feel to wake up next to him.

Oh.

What an alarming thought. You nearly tumble off the couch with the force of this realization, but recover quickly enough to land on your feet. You have to go. It’s easy to justify your exit; technically you’re still on the clock, and Tyler may quite literally kill you for leaving the store unattended. The humor of the fact that Spencer would probably catch anyone who played a part in your demise isn’t lost on you, and you stifle a laugh as you collect your things. You leave a note on his kitchen counter, scrawling the message with care before you rush out of the door. 

I left a few tea bags. Stay at home!!! No working until your brain is healed.

Get well soon. Really.

Y/N XOXOXOXO

You only fully grasp the hold he has on you a few days later, when you’re curled in bed with a terrible headache. Luckily, Sally can cover your shift. You’re on your side, nursing a bowl of soup when you catch sight of a book on your nightstand. It’s Spencer’s—you’ve been meaning to return it for weeks, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to give up this piece of him. Groaning, you close your eyes.

Fuck. You’re gone. Off the deep end, head over heels, irreparably far gone.

And to him, you're just friends.

taglist: 

@everyonesfavoritepipecleaner @coldlilheart @idonotexiste @aberrant-annie @onyourfingertips @bakugouswh0r3 @uptowngotmedown @infinite-tides @chaosconcerns @littlewritersinspace​ @okivia @forever-not-gonna-sink​ @insert-gay-here​ @just-another-persona123​ @winniemjf @jammiebirch @thedancingnerdmermaid 

#some good ol' sickfic action #bc i just KNOW spence is a) dramatic when he catches a cold and b) incapable of knowing when to take a day off #so that's where the reader comes in! #also a good ol' OH moment #bc. yes #i love it here #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #crminal minds fic series #rory writes #likeyoualatte

[hezlel]

I'm sick of this. I can't take it- it's eating away at my soul at exponential rates. This is the worst. This sucks. NO MORE. I cannot take it. Pls spare me oh God.

This fandom is so creative and talented I love you. I do. I'll never stop. you are all incredibly talented and it's great for lurking art enjoyers such as myself.

BUT.

We seem to have hit a roadblock when it comes to origins smp and designing technoblade's origin. Almost all the pitches I've seen so far are wither or piglin/piglin brute/some variation of pig.

(Yes I've already ranted about this, but it's been a couple weeks and nothing's changed so I'll continue shouting into the void. Maybe my wording will be better and more convincing this time who knows).

While the concepts are cool, the association to withers comes almost purely from the dream smp (which doesn't have to be referenced in every single thing the !cc's do (shock horror 😱)) and almost always focuses on changing how pvp mechanics will work (and little else).

Pigs related origins are certainly more on brand but as of yet I haven't seen someone propose something techno will actually find fun or marketable/good content (Based off what he said that one time he joined the server).

But just stating why I don't like the origins and providing no solutions is not going to help anyone so I'm just going to just start by listing origins that have already been taken by other members but seem the most fun:

Inchling

Elytrian

Phantom

Starborn

Of course a lot of people get strange about the idea of people sharing origins (despite the fact that Wilbur's already said he wants to limit the amount of origins) and for you I have another suggestion...

The next one is not my own idea but I feel the strong need to advertise. So prepare yourself for a real HOT take,

How about a pheonix?

Yes it's the same pheonix origin I've already ranted about and love dearly (found here (by u/DisquietedStarlight)). (But also how can you not imagine the Bird Bros art, three feathered Bois chilling in the Bird house doin' Bird things)

AND the mod has already been made! I'm not saying it's perfectly good ready to go in the origins smp because I simply can't test it myself (Cries in ps4 user). But it wouldn't be hard to tweak it now it's already made (by u/SecondBit here).

I would already be making my own fan art and spreading Technopheonix propaganda myself if it weren't for the fact I can't come up with a design I like enough and can do consistently.

I'm happy to hear other suggestions and opinions in comments and reblogs 😁

#mcyt #origins smp #origins mod smp #hybrid smp #technoblade #origins mod #dsmp #pheonix origin #technopheonix #fancontent #text post

[ickle-ronniekins]

dance with me

request from nonnie! “Hello! Im terribly in love with your writing! I was wondering if maybe, Charlie takes Bill, the twins an (either oc or reader insert) to a muggle party and they’re all super confused but love it and Fred is completely smitten by the OC when she danced and maybe did something weird/special of your choosing. I hope it isnt much, lots of love for u and Mischief Managed! ♥️”

pairing: fred x muggle!reader

word count: 2.2k

A/N: my dudes i don’t even know what the fuck this is but i loved this request so much, didn’t mean to make it sad, sry, also you can interpret this how you will.. personally i think they’re both too vulnerable rn to ~get it on~ but i like to think that maybe fred would open his heart again after this and she’d mend his heartbreak..... brb making myself big sad !!!!!! but listen if you wanna imagine him pinning her against the wall and having the time of his life then go for it, man i'm just...... big into angst;;;;;;; pls reblog & leave feedback & things of the like, thank you loves

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans​ @helloallthethingsilove​ @waschbiber​ @dreamer821​ @the-hufflepuff-of-221b​ @62442-am​ @wtfweasleyy​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @thoseofgreatambition​ @harrysweasleys​ @sleep-i-ness​ @shadowsinger11​ @shadychaoticcollection​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff​ @hood-and-horan​ @letsfightsomeorcs​ @theweasleysredhair​ @purpleskiesstorm​ @hxfflxpxffs​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @finecole​ @angelinathebook​ @highly-acidic​ @purplefragile @90shermione​ @zreads​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @parker-potters​ @andromedaa-tonks​ @bbstrawberry0421 | message me to be added!

The foggy, wet streets of the city were unappealing compared to the very comforting, open landscape next to the Burrow. The very last thing that Fred and George had wanted to do was follow their two eldest brothers in the frigid, rainy weather to some silly Muggle party in central London.

Especially Fred.

He didn’t want to be forced out of the one place that made him somewhat happy, especially when he was still nursing the heartbreak that had been causing him so much unpleasantness.

But they’d obliged, because Charlie had nearly pounced on the two of them about it, and they’d much rather go to this than be forced to sit inside the Burrow with pompous Percy -- although, since the war, he had admittedly gotten better at not being a self-righteous git.

The twins had a ton on their plate; not to mention, Fred wasn’t in the mood for any of it. They were dragged out of their business shop by Bill, who was adamant about the fact that they’d both needed a night out, and when they’d tried to persist, telling their eldest brother many times that they had too much to do before the newest shipment of magical inventions came in, Bill had nearly hexed the pair of them, causing them both to shut up almost instantaneously.

But now, as bright, fluorescent lights hit the middle of the room, highlighting you, your smooth and effortless dance moves, and the very lazy grin on your face as you sang along to the booming music in between sips of your drink, Fred wasn’t so huffy about being here anymore.

His heartbreak didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

At least right now, it didn’t.

Admittedly, Bill was right. They really did need a night out. They’d been so bloody busy working that they hadn’t even been to the pub in a few weeks’ time. Ever since the war, business had seemed to escalate, which was really saying something, considering it was incredibly busy even before all of this had gone down. The two of them hardly ever had a moment to breathe. Which, they supposed, was good for Fred. Kept him occupied, kept his mind at bay. But they reckoned they probably needed to hire some more help. Ron had reluctantly agreed to lend a hand. It was Hermione’s idea. A brilliant one, at that.

George thrust a beer frustratingly into his twin’s hands. “We’ve got so much to do, mate.”

“Yeah,” Fred replied breathlessly, truly not listening to a word George was saying.

Fred Weasley had always had it easy when it came to the ladies. They flocked to him, really. He didn’t like to admit it so as not to come off like an entitled prat, but it was true. It was probably due to the fact that he was always making everyone laugh -- something that came equally as easy to him. Perhaps it was his bright red hair that the girls ogled over. Maybe it was his wicked sense of adventure, and the fact that he was always landing himself in questionable situations more often than not. But that was school. He could easily impress those girls at school. He hadn’t had too in a while, though. He’d been happily tied up with the same person for years — that is, until he wasn’t. Until she’d picked someone else.

This was different, though. This was a Muggle party, in the middle of central London, in someone’s sweaty, sticky flat with a bunch of people he didn’t know. Fred couldn’t do magic here. He couldn’t impress someone with his inventions or with his stories about adventure without giving away the fact that he was a from a magical background. He couldn’t use his usual tricks in front of all of these Muggles or he’d be in a ton of hot water.

He also couldn’t let his very intense vulnerability and his rusty flirting get in the way.

But he wouldn’t be Fred Weasley if he didn’t try, right?

It was always easy for Fred to be able to flirt absentmindedly with women. But with his heart in a fragile state, he wasn’t so sure it would be easy tonight.

Bill, picking up on his younger brother’s locked knees and fingers gripped tight around his beer, stopped in front of them. “You alright, Fred?”

“Yeah,” Fred said again, clearing his throat and swigging a bit of his drink. He then thrust the nearly full beer into Charlie’s hands, who furrowed his brows in a confused look. Fred continued, “More than okay. Hey, you guys have fun -- I’ll catch up with you in a bit, alright?”

He left his brothers standing at the other end of the room as he pushed through tons of people. When he’d finally made it to the middle, you were gone. He casually swerved around, peering all around the room to try and meet the gaze with the eyes he felt like he’s known for years already. He then spotted you toward the corner, pouring yourself another drink. His feet began moving before he could register exactly what he was doing; so quickly, in fact, that he hadn’t even heard the obnoxious exchange of words and laughter from behind him from his brothers.

“Merlin, can we go anywhere without Fred picking someone up?”

“Give him a break, mate -- he hasn’t seen anyone since everything unraveled with the last one. It’s been almost two years. Reckon this is good for him — for me, too.”

“Wish it was that easy for me to pick someone up, bloody hell.”

With his heart pounding unnaturally against his ribcage, Fred slid next to you and too began to pour himself a drink, glad to have gotten rid of that beer that Charlie was now undoubtedly guzzling. He opened his mouth to speak, but much to his surprise, you spoke first.

“Ahh -- a whiskey man, are you?”

He was taken aback at the sultry sound of your voice; maybe it was because the music was pounding in his ears, or the fact that you were this foreign person he desperately found himself wanting to know, and very quickly. He looked down at his drink, and then up at you. You were already sipping yours. “That a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily -- though I haven’t decided yet.”

The slight eyebrow raise you gave him made his insides twist. It was too early in the night for nerves. He swallowed them down as he took a swig of his very strong drink. “Haven’t decided, hm?”

You turned to him and then around to face the rest of the party. You inched closer and crossed your arms over your chest, and nodded. “There are three different types of men here tonight, you see. Those, over there,” you pointed with your pinky finger to a bunch of very frat-like men sipping lazily on their beers or glasses of wine, “they’ve come looking for something casual. Not so casual as far as one nighters go, but a fling. Something of the like. Those over on that end,” Fred followed your finger over to a very messy looking group of men who were dancing far too close with some women in the middle of the dance floor -- they looked like they all needed to get rooms. Separately. Merlin. “You know the type of night they’re looking for.”

Fred couldn’t help but snort a bit as he sipped casually.

“And then there’s you. Sipping your whiskey. Cute as ever.”

You turned back toward him and he raised an eyebrow. He was now feeling a bit self-conscious — he was both thrilled and equally embarrassed at being called “cute” by a woman as stunning as you, way out of his league and probably having quite a laugh yourself. He didn’t even know your name. What would you say next? You’d already deemed him the “third type of man” in the room, but the fact that he was a standalone, and not lumped in with another group, made him feel both overwhelmingly relieved, and also slightly terrified. But he tried to play it cool.

“What about me?”

You brought your hand to your hip and wet your lips, pondering this. A small smirk spread itself across your face, the fluorescent light flashing across your eyes. “I dunno yet,”

He liked that. He liked that you didn’t know anything about him. He liked that he didn’t have to be the bloke who made jokes to lighten the mood, the guy who loved messing with people, or the boy who got his heart broken by a girl who’d never really cared for him at all. He didn’t have to be any of those people. He could just be Fred.

“Haven’t decided, I reckon? Like the whiskey?”

You smiled; it was bad enough that Fred was losing his mind solely at the perfume you were wearing, and the fact that this conversation was going absolutely nothing like what he’d planned. Your eyes met his and your voice was soft when you leant in closer, “That’s what makes it so bloody dangerous.”

He didn’t know what the bloody hell you meant by that but he didn’t seem to mind, especially when you grabbed him by the shirt and led him to the dance floor again, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you as some slow song he’d never heard blared through the speakers in the corner.

“And to think — I was just going to come over here and see if I’d even be lucky enough to have a chat,”

You laughed at this, shutting your eyes whilst doing so, and Fred noticed something sparkly painted on your skin toward the edges of your eyes. “What can I say? You’ve intrigued me.”

Perhaps he could do this without any magic. Bloody difficult to not talk all about it, though.

Perhaps his vulnerability would subside, and he’d be able to talk and flirt and dance without thinking back on his own overwhelming heartache that had rendered him nearly useless the last few months.

But after a while, he stopped worrying. The music was so loud, your laughter so infectious, that he’d forgotten all about all those stupid jokes he’d wanted to make about his shop, about Hogwarts, about the magic he’d learned growing up. It wasn’t until you’d asked him to be in the moment with you that he’d truly remembered them.

“Just,” you’d started, tugging gently on the collar of his shirt and biting your bottom lip as another song played loudly, “just be here with me, okay?”

Fred wondered, as glassiness seemed to fill your eyes through a grin at him, if you, too, were in need of this night out.

Maybe you were nursing some kind of heartbreak, too.

Maybe you were also trying to find some type of normal.

It was in your tone — in the way your voice trembled slightly when you’d said be here with me. He didn’t think you were looking for something like a fling, like those guys you’d pointed at before. And he definitely knew that you weren’t looking for one night and one night only, like those sloppy people he’d kept trying to avoid on the dance floor. Maybe, like you’d said, you just needed him to be here. In the moment. Just the two of you, shoes heavy against the hardwood floor, eyes sparkling underneath the lights.

He realized, when he peered down at you and felt some type of warmth for the first time since his own heart was crushed in its vulnerability, that he just needed you to be here with him, too.

So when you leant forward slowly, trying to read his expression, to see if it was okay to do what you wanted to do, he leant in too, pressing his lips gently to yours in a spark of electricity for the first time in Merlin only knows how long.

And what he tasted on your lips sent him spiraling.

When you pulled apart, he raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. “What?” You asked nervously, biting down on the bottom lip, desperately trying to hide the smirk that was growing on your face.

“A whiskey girl, eh?”

You shrugged casually, as if it meant nothing. But you both knew it meant everything. It was just strange, he thought — your first interaction just hours ago, the conversation you’d held, and how you were here, now, entangled together. You wiggled your eyebrows at him — and he was surprised that he found it both innocent and incredibly alluring. “Told you it’s dangerous.”

You sipped the very last of your drink before tossing your cup into the waste bin. Fred reckoned he could stay here all night, forgetting about all of the things that kept him up at night, the things that had been making him so bloody prone to unpleasantness for such a long time. He wanted to laugh again. He wanted to smile again. He wanted to love again.

When you cocked your head to the side and smiled softly at him, beginning to mouth the words to the music, he reckoned he might just be able too.

Then you tugged on both of his hands, placed them delicately across your waist as you locked your arms around his neck again, you said over the booming of the next stupid song you’d undoubtedly sing every word too,

“Just dance with me, Freddie.”

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[narrowtriangle33-blog]

Joe Manchin is a racist. Republicans are trying to do voter suppression against BIPOC Americans.

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