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#It was a long and cruel phase
circeyoru · 24 days
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Unwanted Soul _ Part 3 = Requested
[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]
The Request
Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 (here) — Part 4 — Part 5
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At first you allowed it because you understood Alastor was worried about you, as absurd as it was. Now it was plain annoying. Him requesting, no, that’s not the right word, forcing himself to be in the same bed as you. At first there was the excuse of you recovering and him not wanting you to roll over on you stomach to apply pressure to the wound. Then it was him not used to his new room. Now? He just flops onto the bed and hugs you no matter what you’re doing
“Do I look like a pillow to you???? Or a soft toy??????” “Darling, you are the best cloud ever.”
He doesn’t even mind you slapping the back of his head and snuggles closer to you. You gave up trying to escape his hold and continue with your reading or watching
It went as bad as to you needing a bigger bed since Alastor was always here with you. Alastor got you covered and gave you the best bed you could ever think of. You really just treated Alastor like one of your giant soft toys and slept, you’ll admit, listening to his heartbeat was more lulling than any other sounds. Your warmth and presence had the same effect to him
Oh, right. Alastor filled you in that you were in the hotel and you were occupying a room Alastor took for himself near his bedroom and radio tower. He connected your room with his, evident with the difference in style
You never seen his old room, but he did say he had half of the room as a bayou where he ate his meals. Yeah, he didn’t do that with you, never has he eaten a whole raw meat in front of you. This time though, it was just two different room styles on either way while the wall separating the two was gone. There was an extra door that replaced the window as a dimension to his feeding ground, you just never enter it
It happened out of the blue. When the room door opened and you thinking it was Alastor greeted him without looking. You noticed the lack of static or the obnoxiously loud announcement of his arrival, that’s when you looked up to see who you believe to be Husk from Alastor’s stories and reports
Before Husk knew what hit him, his neon green chains appeared and dragged him into the large room, the door closing and locking behind him. Husk landing on the ground looked up to see Alastor looming over him
You had to wack your memory to recall their relationship. Right, Husk was a former overlord of gambling and he lost his soul to Alastor in a bet to regain power. Poor choice of decision really. Why would you make deals with other Overlords that would want to knock you down? You looked away, thinking that it was none of your business how Alastor treated his souls, as long as he wasn’t like that to you
But your voice snapped Alastor out of whatever he was planning to the former Overlord, “Alastor, I’m craving some steak for tonight. Can you go to Rosie’s and get some nice ones?”
Of course Alastor knew you were giving Husk a save. Yet he can’t deny your request to have his cooking again. (you were binge eating snacks and cup noodles after your wound healed and didn’t want to eat his cooking) So he left into his shadows
Turning back to your laptop, you typed away for another new episode while Husk composed himself. You heard that sigh of relief, you knew Alastor was a cruel demon. You knew because he’d paint the streets red and black whenever sinners and demons alike would glance at you the wrong way, even worse when they said the wrong or vile things to you
“I’m curious, does anyone know I’m here?” “I know now.” “Mhm… You best leave before Alastor’s back and please don’t say anything. Else I’m positive you’d be wishing otherwise.” “Why are you here?” “I wonder too. Because of Alastor?”
You shouldn’t have phased it that way because Husk thought you were an innocent soul that Alastor took as well. That can’t be farther from the truth, but you let him believe as he please. Neither you nor Alastor wanted to disclose your hold over Alastor’s soul to anyone apart from the two of you. Perhaps you could play it like Alastor has your soul, that would make more sense. Maybe
Over dinner, you told Alastor that you’ll be making your appearance as his assistant in the hotel. That way it was reasonable to take the room next to his (that you are currently in) and you’d be always seen around Alastor (more like Alastor could always be near you). Alastor agreed without a second thought
He did added a little detail to your plan. That you two were romantically involved with each other. You shot that idea down immediately. Changing the subject, you told him how Husk thought you were the one that Alastor took the soul of. That gave him a good laugh and you a chuckle. Both of you calmed down, you with your small smirk and Alastor with his wide grin as you two met eye contact, thinking the same: That was such a ridiculous assumption
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet My Dearest Darling.” Alastor’s hand patted your shoulder “Nice to meet you all, Alastor’s told me all about you guys.” You had bowed your head a bit with a smile, appearing as humble as you could. The introductions went without hiccup, was what you would wish for “Pager! My good fellow!” Lucifer came over and wrapped you in a tight hug. “How have you been!?” You missed how Alastor was glaring daggers at Lucifer and the King of Hell was grinning like crazy. “Sire, just fine. Thank you for asking?”
Now it was everyone else’s turn to be shocked and confused. Questions came at you left and right. You didn’t even need to answer because Lucifer had told them you used to work for him. Your room would have been assigned next to Lucifer’s if not for Alastor’s intervention that you were to be ‘put to work’ under him
Well, now that there was something of an intermission for the hotel to bounce back to its former glory (if it had any), things were pretty chill around the hotel. Everyone did their things like usual. Though it was odd that things were unchanged, since you were supposed to be a new staff member. Yet they hardly saw you, nor did Alastor tell you to work on anything
All they knew was you were always in your room, doing whatever behind closed doors. Charlie and Vaggie had asked about you, from Alastor since you were barely out when they were active and the only other contact was through Alastor who was never bothered that you were slacking
Alastor reassured that you were writing scripts for his broadcast and doing your own research on something else, so you wouldn’t be leaving the room for the majority of the time
Everyone would catch Alastor using the kitchen at the oddest time of the day to cook or bake things, then bring it up to his radio tower to eat. When he was confronted on his odd mealtimes, he informs that it was yours. As for why he was the one making, he said it was because he sent you to work overtime and so he compromised
“The poor darling was feeling peckish so I, as the employer in charge, should do my duty, yes?” “Oh ho! No need to fret over my dear Pager upstairs, merely took a longer nap than usual and needed to delay dinner!” “My doe won’t be joining us for breakfast, still sleeping from all that work, you see. I’ll make some food later on.”
All lies. Each and every one of them. All this time, you were eating up on the internet provided by the hotel and doing what you do best. Laze around and chill. There was no work assigned, no script to be written, and certainly no research underway. You were doing what you would back home, now it was just a change in location. Then there’s Alastor joyfully serving you like always without change
But none was the wiser when any of them hardly knew you. Save for Lucifer. He’d pop into your room without Alastor’s notice and give you new books or comics or shows or whatever you please. All while saying they were gifts to you for all you’ve done for him. He was quickly chased out of the room when Alastor sensed another being with you
Now when it came to your break periods, your room wasn’t enough and you wandered around the hotel to stretch and give yourself a change of scenery
This was when everyone else got to talk to you and not through Alastor
Charlie got you to join in her exercises, wanting some feedback from you. You lazily joined, matching Angel’s attitude to it all. You two shared a knowing glance and smirk from time to time. Vaggie groaned and scolded Angel since he was the one that wants to be redeemed, but then turned to you to be more supportive and put heart into it since you were a staff
Alastor immediately poofed out of nowhere, hands on your shoulders while you had a bored look on your face at Vaggie. At the growing static, you sighed, “Please don’t.”
Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel raised a brow at your words. Vaggie wanting to pull you away from Alastor since from their point of view, Alastor was having a scary face again. Husk watched silently from the bar, wondering if you’d be ‘punished’ later behind closed doors for ordering the Radio Demon
But to everyone’s surprise, Alastor reverted back to normal and hummed, offering you his hand to escort you away from the group, “Shall we take a stroll outside the hotel, darling?”
That day, a whole street was painted red. You and Alastor returned late and just went to your room to rest. No one dared to question. They did wonder what would have happened if you said nothing when Alastor appeared behind you. Perhaps Vaggie was lucky she got off with a glare
You wandering the hotel became obvious to the others that you were ‘resting’ from your heavy workload given by Alastor which was rare, they noticed that there was no routine nor a fixed time you’d appear
They held off attacking Alastor about your workload since everytime they see you you weren’t complaining or drained in any way. So they continued as normal, sometimes asking Alastor if he was giving you enough breaks between work or if you were eating. Alastor kept up with appearances and assured them you were well and dandy. You had a good laugh at their concerns
Yeah, neither of you were going to correct it since there was no need
You’ll admit that Alastor was doing a good job at keeping people away from you, just as you like it. Though it could be because of his possessiveness you can tell. Still, it aligns with your wishes, so you leave it be
Once when you were on break and with Charlie and the others for a broad game day, another activity for bonding and the like. Suddenly left mid-game and went to the kitchen to cook, everyone thought Alastor was preparing for everyone’s lunch so no one questioned it. Soon enough you got up
“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, everyone turned to you “Hungry.” It was like you were on autopilot when you turned to walk into the kitchen Everyone else shared a glance, thinking it was time for food anyways. “Let’s eat.”
They weren’t prepared to see you leaning against Alastor with your arms crossed over your chest meanwhile Alastor was having no trouble plating whatever dish was cooked. Another point, you were just causally touching Alastor and he didn’t do anything! He didn’t even make a peep and let you stay there while he worked
No one could touch Alastor unless he does it first. No one touches Alastor especially when he’s in the kitchen cooking!
“Have a seat, darling, food’s ready.” Alastor cooed “Mhm~ Looks nice.” You remarked with contentment as you pushed yourself off of Alastor and sat on one of the high chairs on the island Angel noticed how only you had food and no one else, complaining, “Hey, what about us?” Alastor turned over, shamelessly commenting, “Oh, I finished using the kitchen, you can make your own food now. Sorry for taking so long.” The condescension was gone when he turned his attention back to you, “How’s the food, dear?” “Good as always.” You praised, glancing up at him to know he was overjoyed at your words even with the lack of expression. His eyes narrowing while his grin widened was the hint. “Could use some mini cupcakes when we play the board games later.” “Say no more!” Alastor snapped his fingers, making a bunch of ingredients appear. He turned to the crew, “Apologies, but I’ll be using the kitchen since you’re all merely standing at the entrance!”
Yeah. Everyone came to the conclusion that Alastor was extra weird after you came to the hotel. They’d ask Alastor about it but he would dodge the question all together or he’d just shift the attention elsewhere. They’d love to ask you, since you were somewhat more approachable? But you were just rarely around. When you are around, Alastor was not far from you
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Note: Yup. Part 3. Amazing right? I blame the ask and you can thank the ask. The writing mood just hit me like a truck, so here's the result
Guys I'm very tempted to change all the stories in ask to a post format so I can keep track of them! Not sure about this yet, but if I do do it, the stories in ask will be replaced with a link instead and the stories will be readable as a post (maybe with a picture of the ask?). Do I reboot all of them or just start with the next new request?
Circe Y.
Other Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist:
@aconfusedwonderland
@crowleysthings
@donustellaron
@nevermore-ramblings
@justboredforreal
@youroneandonlysimp
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navybrat817 · 8 months
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Oh, this smirk!
The Rejects
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, mentioned Steve Rogers x Female Reader, mentioned Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Bucky address the elephant in the room.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Flirting, friends with benefits (not Bucky x Reader), light angst, tension, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)
A/N: This was meant to be something else completely, but the muse did what she wanted. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“You jealous?”
Looking up from the Scrabble board, you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at Bucky’s smug expression. “Jealous of what exactly?” you asked, downing the rest of your drink and not flinching at the sting.
“Come on. You know what,” he answered, crossing his arms as he leaned on the table. “Or do I need to say it?”
“Please, enlighten me,” you said as you placed a square on the board. You knew exactly what he was referring to, but you’d play his game. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”
“Steve and Natasha sleeping together,” he answered.
Big boy actually said it.
You allowed the eyeroll to happen when he smirked. They left the two of you alone almost an hour ago and it was a feat that you went that long without acknowledging it. “No, I’m not. Why would I be?”
Bucky pointed at you with his beer bottle. “Because you used to hook up with Steve.”
“And you used to sleep with Natasha,” you said without skipping a beat. That wiped the smirk off his face. “So sorry you got stuck playing Scrabble with a reject like me.”
You didn’t have super soldier hearing the way he did, but you heard his teeth grind when he selected his next piece. “You’re not a reject,” he said above a whisper.
Neither of you spoke as you kept playing. After a bad mission months ago, you slept with Steve. It wasn’t a big deal. Adrenaline was high and he gave you the release you needed. Expecting it to be a one time thing, it surprised you when he shoved you against a wall days later. You fell into a “friends with benefits” arrangement with him after that.
While he treated you well enough, you both maintained that it wouldn’t go beyond sex. From what Natasha told you, she had a similar arrangement with Bucky. It worked for your needs.
You were content.
Until you noticed how Steve and Natasha’s gazes lingered on each other after briefings. How easily they fell in step beside each other despite their sometimes opposing views. She trusted the Captain, which wasn’t easy for the former spy. Steve respected her and that said something. You accepted that they needed each other and quietly removed yourself from the equation.
Bucky did the same.
“You know what? I am jealous,” you admitted, the game forgotten at that point. “But not because they’re sleeping together.”
Bucky’s cheek twitched, like he didn’t quite believe you. “Then why are you?”
Glancing down the hall before you looked back at Bucky, you sighed. “As happy as I am for them, I'm a little sad for myself. Because they found something in each other that no one has found with me,” you told him, narrowing your eyes when his slightly widened. “What?” you asked. If the former Winter Soldier made fun of you or laughed, you wouldn’t hesitate to smack him because you weren’t afraid of him.
“Nothing,” he said, the index finger on his vibranium hand tapping the table in a fast motion. “I just understand how you feel.”
Shame flooded you for thinking he’d poke fun at your vulnerability. He wasn’t a bad guy. Far from it. In fact, Steve never got jealous or insecure when you talked to Bucky and Natasha hadn’t either. They encouraged the two of you to become friends. Looking back, it was easy to think they supported the friendship to phase you two out. But you knew that wasn’t the case.
They weren’t cruel.
What would’ve happened if I slept with Bucky instead of Steve? Is it wrong that I’ve thought about that more than once?
“So, why are a couple of 'rejects' like us who are not jealous of our former lovers sitting here playing board games instead of going out and looking for ‘the one’?” you teased.
“Because I was too chicken to ask you out tonight, even after I got the okay from Steve.”
What?
You blinked once. Twice. “Your best friend, who has been inside me, is cool with you asking me out?”
He winced at your choice of words. “Well, when you put it like that. Yeah?” he replied, before he straightened up, confidence filling those pretty blue eyes of his. “I don’t give a fuck that you slept with Steve. I’m asking you out.”
Your smile turned a little warmer and you reigned your claws in. “You want to take me on a date?” you asked, your heart swelling when he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "If this is just to fill a void, I don't think it's a good idea."
If Bucky needed that, you understood. But could you do that again? No. Not with him.
"I'm asking because I want to, doll. You're a badass and I like your company," he said. That was a big deal since Bucky only seemed to like a handful of people. "And if you’ll let me, I’ll ruin you.”
Fuck.
“I don’t know,” you said in a singsong voice, stretching and purposely sticking your chest out to draw his gaze to your breasts. “We’ve both done the whole friends with benefits thing before and-”
He reached across the table to take your hand. “You wouldn’t be my friend. You’d be my girl.”
Your stomach did a funny flip, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. The word “yes” was on the tip of your tongue. Because you had a right to be happy. All of you did.
I slept with Steve. Natasha slept with Bucky. Steve is sleeping with Natasha. The next logical step is sleeping with Bucky, right? Who knew math could be fun?
“What would Nat think?” you asked. Though you were certain she had no feelings for Bucky beyond friendship, you didn’t want her to be uncomfortable just because you were fine with her and Steve.
Your phone buzzed a half a minute later with a text from the former Black Widow herself.
“Go for it. He'll be good to you and you deserve it.”
Bucky chuckled when you looked back down the hall. “Steve and his fucking hearing,” you muttered before you threw your head back. “Stop listening to our conversation! That’s rude!”
“Sorry!” Steve yelled back.
You smiled at Bucky, the atmosphere lighter even with the tension. “Okay. You beat me in Scrabble, you pick where we go for our first date. I win, I get to pick and no complaints.”
His eyes lit up as your heart raced. “Deal,” he said, the smirk slowly appearing on his face again. “But the loser has to play the next game naked.”
“Game on, Barnes.”
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So, there we go. 😂 I hope you lovelies liked it! More of these two with A Couple of Cuties. Love and thanks for reading. 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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callofdudes · 4 months
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Hiya! How are you doing? Hope you doing okay. Btw, if you have time, can I request TF141 with Fem! Reader who is emotionless. The men’s went to visit Y/n place for her birthday but they heard loud bark in her house. When Y/n open the door the men’s are pin down by a lot of puppies. They though she has scary dog only to meet cute puppies. Imagine when the men’s see Y/n cuddle/hanging out with her puppies and she her smile a bit during her birthday they be like ‘Dammit! So cute!’ And almost faint seeing the light above of her like an angel.
Thank you for being so patient anon, I'm trying to get these done, ahh!
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
Ghost is pretty used to how you act on base, and while he doesn't exactly trust the whole emotionless thing (that's his thing, back off his permanent emo phase) he does give you space and respect you.
So much so when you invited him to come over after a long mission needing a break from life, he just decided to except. To hell with it, at least he knew you wouldn't bother him.
And plus, it was your birthday in a couple days so what was the real harm in saying no??
So he shows up with his bags a couple days later, not expecting anything special until he rang the doorbell.
Now.
Simon.
Loves.
Dogs.
There are few things he loves more in this world than tea, arson, and dogs. So when he hears a bunch of barking he rightfully assumes you have a dog, unless you just have that playing to scars people, which he wouldn't put it past you.
You come to the door, struggling to open it before he's bombarded at the glass screen, seeing a bunch of tiny puppies jumping and wagging their little tails in excitement to meet a new person.
And Simon nearly dies of how utterly fucking cute that is. You open the door and their jumping at his legs, yipping as he comes in and puts down his bag, on their little legs rushing to sniff the new item in the home.
"Sorry about them." You apologize.
Simon shrugs, melting. "That's alright."
The puppies are pretty adorable, one of them even wants to sleep on his bed with him. And Simon gets used to them, pulling them into his lap and stroking them, cradling them, occasionally following you when you take them for walks.
But when you're both sitting in the living room, Simon scrolling through his phone and you on the TV. He can't help looking over and seeing two of them curled up on your lap and passed out. The others all snuggled close as you barely cling on to the TV remote.
He stares, lip turning up slightly under his mask, seeing how cute the scene was. It was pretty damn adorable.
And he's going to miss those puppies when he goes home. But now he has a nes perspective on you as well. He knows you're gentle.
You pretend not to have emotions, and in your line of work he understood, but he saw the gentle side of you. The nurturer, even if it was too a bunch of cute puppies.
Also.
Let him see your puppies again.
Please.
He's begging you.
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John "Soap" MacTavish
Now, Johnny probably would have declined your offer to stay at your house if he knew you had dogs. Johnny hates dogs, and is not afraid to kick one on the spot.
But you wanted to throw a party for your birthday and he couldn't just.. decline to go to your birthday. That was horrible, he was invited, he had to go!
He doesn't want to be cruel to dogs or go out of his way, but they scare him. And he doesn't like being near them.
He grabbed his bag and knocked on your door, immediately tensing when he heard the sound of yips coming toward the door.
Please don't let it be a big dog, please don't let it be a big dog.
You rushed to the door, struggling to open it and Johnny was suddenly swarmed by tiny puppers.
He tensed a little and you apologized, herding them back inside and letting Johnny in. Luckily they were distracted by the scent on his bag long enough he could make it to the living room.
"Sorry about that, should have told you."
"Oh ah, no no that's alright..."
He chuckles softly as the puppies get excited from the new guest, some scrambling to hop into his lap when he sits down and you have to gently remove them from him so he can get settled.
You smile softly as you pull them off and gently, lovingly scold them on crawling all over him. He can't help a little smile when you pick one up, drawing the rest to follow you to the couch.
You flop down, tossing Johnny the remote as the puppies crawl up to you, yipping and snuggling up.
Johnny puts on some YouTube video for experimental slow motion capture explosions for a bit.
Eventually looking over to see if you're even interested, only to see you passed out on the couch with the puppies all curled up.
He watched, smiling softly seeing you so relaxed. You were gentle and kind and now you were soft, all curled up like the world was calm. He grabbed the throw blanket and gently laid it over you, turning off the TV.
One of the pups squirmed out from under your arm, yipping as he moved to the stairs. Johnny shushed the pup softly so you could continue to sleep and he headed down to his room.
You were pretty cute like that, all curled up with a bunch of puppies.
Just... It might not be as cute when they get bigger.
But for now, absolutely adorable.
And now he thinks he might try to get you to open up a little more. Because clearly you aren't simply what you want to be seen as. And he wants to know you. That gentleness he saw that day with your puppies.
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle doesn't feel any which way about either animal. He's slightly more of a cat person but would say he likes cats and dogs equally.
He didn't really have any particular thoughts about you either. You were on the team, you got the job done, and that was good. You were quiet, like Ghost, and that was something he could appreciate.
He might have declined the offer to stay over, but it was you'd birthday and you had offered. And what's a week in someone else's home he didn't have to worry about rent and resources? (Gaz math)
So he found himself at your doorstep with really not much idea of what to expect. He didn't think much of it when he rang the doorbell and heard a bunch of yips and little barks.
You must have dogs. Or puppies from the sounds of it.
And he was right, looking down as you opened the door, seeing puppies skittering around and wiggling excitedly. You opened the door, nodding to Kyle, who nodded back.
"Sorry about them, off." You commanded, helping Kyle to put his bag down on the kitchen chair. He watched the puppies dance around between and around his feet.
"That's a lot of puppies." He put his hands in his pockets.
"And I love them all." You smiled softly, cooing them over to the couch. Kyle watched all of them waddle over, yipping and scrambling to get up into the couch.
You curled up in a blanket with them all, one of them staying back to sniff Kyle's pantleg and nibble on it a little.
Kyle watched the little puppy, bending down to pick him up and felt his soft coat. He was very cute puppy, very light too.
"They are beautiful... What breed??" He looked up, noticing your eyes were closed. The light from your blinds casting on you in just a way he could tell it had been a long day.
He smiles softly, thinking how cute it was paired with your earlier words.
He attempted to put the one puppy down but it scrambled back, following him as he took your advice and also went to pass out for a nap.
Eventually waking up with that same pup curled up with him. He went upstairs to see you still sleeping, and he couldn't help thinking it cute s second time.
You were soft, gentle with the small animals. So comfortable with them. He couldn't stop s small smile. So this was the real y/n... He'd like to see more of you.
And he thinks your puppies are adorable.
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John Price
Price is like Kyle in that he doesn't really prefer one species over the other, he vibes with both. Though he's leaning more dog person.
You on the other hand, your skill alone is what got you on the team. Price wishes you would be less 'emotionless' and try to open up even a smidge to the others. Even a little bit of teamwork can lead to a lot of success and smoothness.
But oh hell he picked you all...
That's what he couldn't help thinking as he drove down to your house for your birthday. It was mid leave and Price was headed over to celebrate the day with you and make sure you wouldn't be alone.
Showing up at your door, he didn't his little dad shoulder roll and knocked. When he got no response he rang the doorbell, immediately hearing loud barking and yipping.
His eyebrows raised slightly. He didn't take you for a dog person. Unless he's at the wrong house, in that case, fuck him.
But he's reassured it's you when you open the door, giving him a half a smile for effort. "Captain, sorry, I was trying to put them away."
Price chuckles when the small puppies jump up at his legs and run around him, smelling all the new smells on him.
"That's quite alright."
You open the door further and let him inside. Price steps in, the small puppies yipping and jumping. You try to gently scold them off but Price doesn't react, letting them do their thing.
"Sorry, I can make you tea, we can sit down??"
Price nodded. "That sounds lovely actually, thank you."
You nod, grabbing out two cups and getting the kettle ready.
You two pass time talking until you get to the couch, Price crossing a leg over, one of the pups hopping up into his lap, yipping at him and snuggling up to his stomach.
Price can't help chuckling again as you talk. The rest of the puppies curl up with you, you'd arms wrapping around them all, trying to squeeze your love gently into their tiny bodies.
The quietness somehow seeping in along the way until Price looks up from petting the small puppy to see you nodding off against the arm rest.
The sun through the window hits you nicely and Price sighs softly. Seeing how tired you looked, how gentle you were.
Price always knew it, he knew the soft soul under those faces. And now he saw it, seeing how utterly adorable you were curled up with your puppies.
He walks over, setting down the pup from his lap against you, having a feeling he'd feel better there.
He pulls the throw blanket over you, rubbing your arm gently. Guess he's making dinner to give back for making him tea.
He looked back into the living room, seeing you still passed out. Maybe, with some more work he can get you to open to him. He liked seeing you so cuddly up.
You were so gosh darn adorable, almost as adorable as the puppies themselves.
(sorry it's short, it's late and I wanted to at least get something out, blep.)
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redrobin-detective · 5 months
Text
Continuing my incredibly sporadic and incredibly all over the place Adventure Time watch, it's really hitting me how Finn and Jake really are at completely different stages in life.
Jake had this whole other life going on before Finn became aware. Dogs in this world mature faster, age faster and don't live as long as humans. Jake went through multiple different phases, phases where he was cruel and reckless and even criminal. I had gotten used to Jake being this calm and wise center of the series that it has been eye opening to see that it was a multiyear long struggle to get to that point. And then Finn began coming into his own and wanted to be a hero and Jake changed again for him.
People have commented on the nature of Finn and Jake's relationship and it really does feel like a sibling pair in which there's a sizable gap between the elder and the younger. Jake does at times take on an almost parental role in guiding Finn. As Finn is growing up and really figuring out who he is, Jake is solidly in doggie middle age. While Finn is roaring with restless, reckless energy and trying to figure out who he is, Jake has mostly settled himself and is now making peace with his past and his future.
Jake's death is made out to be tragic but I bet he passed nice and easily of old age without want or regret. A peaceful death. But I believe the real tragedy was not in how Jake died but the fact that he didn't adequately prepare Finn for it. Jake had been the main pillar over the course of Finn's entire life. He has lost people and suffered a lot as teen/young adult, he couldn't imagine a life without Jake even though Finn would live long after Jake had met his natural end. I wonder if the two of them even realized how incongruous their lifespans were. Surely Simon or even the Islanders could have explained it to them. I wonder if it would have even mattered.
Finn did everything with his entire body and being, including love. He had decided early on that Jake was going to be his partner, best friend, brother forever and maybe nothing Jake or anyone said could have convinced him to move on.
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rogueddie · 1 year
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Steve needs to be touched.
He's not sure how he didn't notice sooner. Didn't really realize until his skin almost itches with it. Until he notices how he will almost chase any physical affection without thinking. But by then, it already feels too late to really do anything about it.
Luckily, Eddie and Robin are both physically affectionate people. They use any opportunity to invade his personal space, any excuse to throw an arm around his shoulders or nudge his shoulder with their own. They're always in his space so much that, at some point, he starts to expect it from them.
It only makes him more painfully aware of Eddie slowly trying to pull back, to pull away. To put some distance between them.
Steve wonders if it's becoming obvious how needy he's become. He had thought he'd been a little subtle about it- he goes straight to him and Robin whenever he starts to feel that itch, that need for contact, but they all have so much trauma that no one bats an eye. But if Eddie has noticed and thinks its... weird or uncomfortable...
He doesn't say any of this to Robin when he tries to ask her what's wrong though. It's less... asking. He basically just waits for a quiet moment to wonder; "I hope I haven't done anything to upset Eddie. He's been pulling away a lot recently."
"Steve," Robin looks a little guilty. "He's fine. You haven't don't anything. Don't worry about it, ok?"
Don't worry about it? Steve frowns.
"You talk to him? It's... I mean, it's only me then, right? I haven't fucked up too bad, have I?"
Robin grabs his shoulders. "Steve. You didn't fuck anything up. He just needs some space right now. I'm the one who told him to back off a little with you. I think it's something you both need. Ok?"
"You told him to back off?"
"Yeah, and you trust me, right?"
"Of course I do."
She nods, gives him a lopsided grin and heads to the backroom to "actually do my stupid job for once!"
Steve tries not to curl in on himself. Tries not to jump to conclusions, but... why else would she tell Eddie to back off? But that means that she's noticed how weirdly clingy he is too. She must be ok with it though... right? She told Eddie to back off, she hasn't tried to do that herself. If anything, she's been a little more physically affectionate.
So he's been making Eddie uncomfortable. He has fucked it up. Robin is just trying to be nice.
The next time he sees Eddie, it's almost too much. Knowing that he's making Eddie uncomfortable won't leave his mind, making him painfully aware of what he's doing, making sure he also keeps his distance. He won't make Eddie more uncomfortable- he's a great guy, he deserves so much better than that.
But it is too much. So Steve starts to avoid him entirely. It's easier, even though it means he has to avoid group hangouts. Even though he feels lonelier than ever. It's easier than having Eddie right there.
He can tell that the others are starting to worry about him. Even Eddie, apparently, is worried. But he keeps dismissing it all. Brushes them off. Falls back on the excuses and tactics he'd use on Tommy. It's not good, he's too cruel sometimes, but it gets them to back off.
Of course, that doesn't last long.
He wasn't fully awake when he pulled open the door and, as soon as the door opens, Eddie shoves his way inside. He ignores Steves complaints, sitting on the sofas armrest, quickly settling down with his arms crossed. He raises an eyebrow at Steve, who is still hovering in the doorway.
Steve reluctantly closes the door. He doesn't sit down. "What do you want?"
"I was about to ask you the same. What the hell is wrong with you, Steve? Did something happen?"
"I'm fine. No, actually, I'm tired. Maybe you should leave so I can fix that."
Eddie narrows his eyes. "You're lying."
"So?"
"So? Fucking hell, dude, I thought you were better than this! Or was that a phase? Miss being King Steve too much, huh?"
Steve flinches at the nickname. "I'm trying to deal with some shit right now. Being around you guys is only making it harder, so I'm taking some time alone to work through it. I'll be fine, I just need some time."
"Time for what?"
Steve grits his teeth. Even if he were willing to talk about it, explaining that he's trying to forget what it felt like to have Eddies hand on his shoulder is too embarrassing to admit.
"Steve, come on," Eddie tries, stands up and walks closer. "Talk to me. Please, I just want to help."
His hand is so gently on Steves arm. He just wants to curl up in the touch, even as small as it is.
He feels shame boil under his skin when his face scrunches up, hating how visibly close he is to crying. Especially with how soft Eddies voice gets, with how he pulls Steve closer so he can hug him, wrapping him up in his arms. Steve can't help but hug him back, gripping the back of his top tight, shaking.
"It's ok, you're ok, I've got you," Eddie is saying. He tucks his face into Steves shoulder, gently rocking them. "Whatever it is, you don't need to be alone, ok? I'm right here. I'll always be right here."
"I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Steve finally sobs. He hates how his voice cracks.
"You don't make me uncomfortable. You've never made me feel uncomfortable, I promise. I don't think you could if you tried, sweetheart."
"But Robin- she told you to back off?"
"Yeah, but that- that's nothing to do with you, ok? You didn't do anything wrong. That wasn't your fault."
He waits, but Steve doesn't respond. If anything, he feels more tense.
"Ok, Steve, come on, hey." Eddie gently pushes Steve away, holds him by his shoulders so he has to look at him. "That wasn't your fault."
"So why were you pulling away?"
"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Robin didn't want me stressing myself out, worrying all the time."
"Why would I be uncomfortable?"
"Steve. I'm gay."
"Yeah? I do listen when you talk, man, I don't need a reminder."
"No, that-" Eddie snorts, shaking his head. "I'm gay and you're pretty. And nice. And you're always curling up on me like a fucking cat. Did you really not realize?"
"Oh." Steve blinks. He isn't sure what he's feeling, but it definitely isn't negative. "Really? Me?"
"Yeah, Stevie, you. I thought you'd noticed. I stare at your lips a lot. Even the kids noticed. Like I said, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. It's one thing to be ok with a dude being gay, it's another for that dude to be crushing on you. I get it if you don't feel comfortable with any of that shit."
"No, it... it's not making me feel uncomfortable."
"Ok. That's good? Right? How is it making you feel?"
Steve fiddles with the hem of his top, face heating up. "Uh. Nice, I guess? I don't know. But not, like, bad."
"Nice as in... it's nice to feel wanted?" Eddie glances down to his lips- this time, Steve notices.
"No, um... I don't know. I didn't really think you'd ever want to look at me like that. It's nice." Steve shifts, hesitating. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing, but he really wants to admit it... "I, uh... I think I want you to look at me like that."
"Steve, please, you need to elaborate. I don't want to read this wrong. Why do you want me to look at you like that?"
"It's... uh..."
Eddie steps a little closer, gently reaching out to hold his hand. "Steve. Why do you want me to look at you like that?"
"Because that's how I look at you," Steve whispers. The thought is a little shocking, even to him- but it's true. "Oh."
Eddies thumb rubs a little circle on the back of his hand. It's nice, comforting. "Steve, I'm gonna kiss you now. Is that ok?"
"Yeah. Yeah, yes, that's ok, please."
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reveluving · 1 year
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moments that matter ; bruce wayne x batmom reader
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warnings: pure fluff!
a/n: I got nothing to say, I just wanted to give battinson!bruce a try!
check out my batmom m.list!
it's hard for people to believe that he's a married man, let alone a father.
out of everyone in the family, many wonders how bruce had not only proposed to you, but also fathered the former acrobat. at first, they thought its cause the boy lost his parents, just as bruce did. and with dick's more upbeat energy, it's understandable that he likely takes it from you than bruce.
but then, bruce adopts another kid.
and another.
and another.
... and another.
and everyone starts asking themselves if this was all his idea or yours.
oh, if only they knew.
if only they knew your struggle to resist those sad eyes he'd give you.
you just wished the public gave him so much more credit when it comes the kids. you don't think you could even handle the life as a mother without bruce.
and as much as your kids love to joke about bruce's 'teenage phase', one can only imagine the sheer gratefulness they had for him and you.
the perfect balance to this cruel yet sweet world.
it doesn't take long for people to figure out that your children's compassionate side has to come from you, which they weren’t wrong. even bruce himself acknowledged it.
but bruce is anything but heartless, no no. would he even consider taking any of them under his wing if he was? no!
and the idea of fatherhood came easier because you were by his side. so what if he now has eight kids? why would he want to imagine what his life would've been without them?
without the texts from dick, who's all the way in bludhaven, to take breaks?
without jason's interferences when he's outnumbered by a number of gangsters?
without the sounds of tim and damian arguing over the littlest things, only to hilariously end it by shaking hands when you give them 'the eye'?
without attending cass' recital with you, your boys and even alfred, steph, babs and kate as she's the main dancer?
without terry being matt's assistant as the latter tries to treat bruce's so-called ouchies?
without living this life without you?
no. it was impossible to imagine the other bruce wayne.
the bruce wayne he didn't turn out to be.
but hey, speaking of yourself, wanna know a random fact he loves about you?
your style!
whatever your aesthetics may be, he loves you for it! who was he to say otherwise, when he doesn't really take his own into account anyway?
you're in all-black too? that's great! no one's here to judge—not him, not alfred, and certainly not his kids. you're the one able to mix and match like a true professional!
but say your sense of style falls under the bright/pastel/fairycore-like category! gotham's pretty depressing, including the manor itself, so he appreciates it when he's suddenly slapped with a sight of his wife donning her soft pink dress.
bruce finds it endearing that you actually wore the shades he bought for both you and himself. he thought he was being silly at first, wondering if you'd actually wear it, so imagine his surprise when just days after, you decided to match with him when he found the time to take you out to dinner.
he's even more surprised when one day, duke tells him that you've been under the weather because you lost the shades.
instead of waking up to your husband the next day, you find a glasses case on his pillow, complete with a golden ribbon.
he's bought you a new pair, the same kind, but this time, bruce purposely ordered it so that 'mrs wayne' was written next to the frame name.
he comes home, feigning ignorance by raising his brow, though he knew good and well why you were practically blinding him with your smile before you peppered his face with kisses.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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cuffmeinblack · 8 months
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Smile In Your Sleep
Sebastian Sallow x f!MC (she/her)
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Tags: explicit | non-con | somnophilia | dark!Sebastian | delusional thoughts
3.1k words
Summary: Sebastian watches her when she sleeps, safe in his arms as she seeks comfort from her nightmares. Beautiful, perfect, and utterly irresistible; who could blame him for indulging?
A/n: *sweats* I'm so sorry, Seb. I made him completely delulu and predatory, this boy is fucked up.
When had merely watching her sleep become not enough? Sebastian pondered the question as he lay in bed, willing her to crawl in with him through some hitherto unheard of telepathy; a cruel thought, as she only ever did so when suffering from particularly horrendous nightmares. He missed her warmth, particularly on these cold Winter nights, though he was restless when she did make an appearance.
He closed his eyes, picturing her laying next to him—eyes shut, her dark eyelashes fluttering as she dreamed, cheeks flushed from the heat under the heavy duvet and those kissable lips just barely parted to aid soft breaths. His memory conjured images of the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath those gorgeous breasts that regularly featured in his own dreams. Sebastian gripped his aching length, his clothes long banished as he lay in the confines of his bed. He lingered on the thought of pushing himself into her mouth, parting those lips further as he slid down her throat. In his fantasies, she didn't react; merely lay still, statuesque, perfect as he violated her.
"F-fuck…," he stuttered as he came hard, spilling over his hand and stomach.
The shame that so usually flooded his mind had gradually dulled over the weeks, making way for a resignation that this was no passing phase. What bothered Sebastian now wasn't the activities he conducted in private—that was his own business, after all—it was the desire to act out his fantasies, growing ever stronger each time she made his way to him during those hard nights. That spurred his guilt, more so because she was particularly vulnerable in those moments, being subjected to horrors she begged him to be able to forget.
He cleaned himself up with a sigh before heading to the shower for a more thorough cleanse, though it did nothing to wash away the unease settling in his stomach. Once dressed, he walked down to the common room with Ominis, spotting her leaning casually by the window and prompting his insides to squirm. She greeted them cheerily as they approached, running her fingers through her hair to sweep it out of her face, like some sort of temptress meant only to torture Sebastian. It was no secret that he found her attractive, except maybe to the woman herself, but not a living soul knew the depths of his depravity when it came to his lustful thoughts.
As she sat across the table from him at breakfast, he felt as if she could read his mind the way her eyes seemed to scrutinise everything he did, and he silently prayed to Merlin that she wasn't a secret legilimens.
"You okay, Seb?" she asked.
Sebastian smiled and nodded, heaping porridge into his bowl and shovelling it into his mouth to avoid speaking. He was far too distracted for small talk, and besides that, he could barely look at her these days without imagining his cock in her mouth.
"How did you sleep?" Ominis asked.
"Better," she smiled with a sigh of relief. "Maybe my nightmares have stopped."
Well, that wouldn't do.
Sebastian peered over his bowl and caught her watching him, her piercing eyes seeming to want to communicate something. Would she be disappointed, too? Would she lament the fact that she no longer had an excuse to sleep next to him?
"That’s good," Sebastian remarked whilst idly stirring more honey into his breakfast.
She hummed in assent, never taking her eyes off him.
-
Not three days later, her presumption was proven false—her nightmares were far from finished tormenting her. She slid into his bed once again, shaking slightly, whether from the cold, shock or fear he couldn't tell. He bundled her into his arms as soon as she hit the mattress, curling into a fetal position as he enveloped her back in a blanket of warmth and calm.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently.
"Yes, I'll be alright. It wasn't as bad as…"
She couldn't finish her sentence, instead lapsing into silence as Sebastian stroked her hair and the last of her sobs subsided. He knew the nightmares she had alluded to; he had them too, sometimes.
She drifted off to sleep quickly, leaving Sebastian once again in an internal struggle between giving into the temptation that roared behind his ribcage, a beast waiting to be sated, and the simple duty of respecting his dearest friend. He told himself that he was disgusting, depraved, a monster, but the words meant nothing as he gazed down at her sleeping form in the dim light, noticing the gentle swell of her breasts underneath her cotton chemise. Her nipple had slipped, tantalisingly close to being exposed by the smallest of shuffles. Once again, Sebastian rationalised his actions, downplaying their gravity—he simply wanted to hasten the inevitable.
Propped on his elbow as he leaned over her, he delicately peeled the fabric down, revealing her soft, pink nipple. Saliva pooled in the well of his mouth as his cock twitched against her perky cheeks, and Sebastian suppressed a groan that would surely wake her. Just a quick touch, then he'd stop. His thumb brushed her nipple, her body responding even in unconsciousness as it formed a stiff peak at his touch. Fuck, he wanted to take it into his mouth, swirl his tongue over that perfect little mound. The thought sent blood rushing away from his head—and whatever part of his brain that was responsible for his self restraint—and straight to his cock.
Sebastian slid a hand under the chemise to gently cup her breast, her flesh perfectly filling his palm. His dark eyes flickered shut as he felt the weight, brushed the silken skin and gently pinched her nipple. Perfect. He was impossibly aroused now, his cock swelling at an alarming rate in his pyjama trousers. The only relief lay in her warm body nestled against him, and the temptation was simply too strong. His eyes opened again to watch her face, for any indication that she was waking as he rolled his hips into her backside.
She was so fucking soft. Her perfect arse moulding around his erection like it was meant for him. Still she slept as he palmed her breast, growing bolder every second with a firmer grip and a harder push of his hips. He wanted to moan into her ear, tell her she was such a good girl, but of course he couldn't; his game was one of stealth and silence. He couldn't stop his heavy breath or involuntary hitches as he grinded gently against her, but it soon became apparent that this gentle caress wouldn't be enough to rid him of his painfully throbbing desire.
Sebastian shuffled back slightly, taking the arm trapped under his body and wrapping his hand around his length with a shudder, whilst his other stayed firmly glued to her breast. He massaged her in rhythm to the strokes he gave his cock, his orgasm building so quickly from just how fucking wrong this was. Still he pumped himself, smearing the slick that dribbled from the tip down his entire length, filling the canopy with wet slapping sounds that were far too loud—but he couldn't stop, he was so close. He looked down at her face once more, eyes fixed on those plump lips so ready for the taking, and she moaned. A gentle sound, almost a breath, as she shuffled on the mattress slightly, bringing her knee higher and face pressed into the pillow.
No, Sebastian couldn't stop the inevitable, not even if he'd tried, which he didn't. He shot his load all over her clothed back, fucking his hand furiously as cum spurted in thick ropes across her pretty cotton chemise. His head was spinning, barely able to breathe from the intensity of his release. It was fucking incredible. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours as he gasped quietly through the pleasure, but eventually he was empty, oversensitive and completely spent. He slumped back on the pillow, looking down at the mess he'd made of his hand and the sheet beneath them, his post-orgasm clarity ruining the perfect moment.
Shit. He removed his hand gently from her breast, pulling the top up to cover her still stiff nipple and groped around outside of the curtain for his wand, trying not to move too much. After an agonising few seconds of patting his nightstand, he finally found it, casting a non-verbal cleaning charm to vanish the soaking mess. It wasn't quite perfect, but he daren't utter the incantation aloud. This was his bed, as such, the slightly crusted layer on his sheet wasn't too much of a problem, but the same couldn't be said of her pyjamas. As she started to stir and the light began filtering through the gap she'd made in the curtain, Sebastian hoped against all odds that she wouldn't notice his shame smeared across her back.
-
Sebastian watched her over breakfast for any indication that she knew what he'd done, but she was apparently none the wiser, her usual self. He thought she may have lingered a little longer on his eyes as she looked at him that morning, her face a tad more flushed than usual, but she said nothing. If she had known, she had decided to allow it, which made Sebastian all the more bolder.
Night after night, she told him her nightmares had returned, though he noted the absence of any tears after a while. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, or a desperate need to justify his actions by telling himself that she wanted this, but he had almost convinced himself that it was true. He'd held back from doing what he really wanted, from truly claiming her whilst she slept, but his apprehension was melting away with every night she willingly found herself in his bed.
"Are you okay?" he asked once again as she lay curled up in his arms.
"Yeah. I'm better now."
Better with me.
She offered herself so willingly, such that the flickering flame of guilt was extinguished the moment her soft snores met his ears. Too beautiful to resist, and so responsive to his touch. His breath ghosted her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps prickling her flesh. Over her shoulder his gaze roamed and his fingers followed, the featherlight touch he employed barely registering to her nerves.
Sebastian’s ear was pricked for any variation in her breathing as he delved under her top, this time a less attractive buttoned shirt; but no matter, it was what lay underneath that counted. His hands provided and her body responded just as he’d hoped. This, he was used to now. This, was safe. He could caress her breasts and barely satisfy himself with his hand, but the allure of what lay next to his throbbing length was what kept him awake even on the nights he spent alone.
He dared to go further even as the bile rose in his throat, planting a kiss on her neck whilst his eyes stayed fixed on her peacefully resting visage. Illuminated by the strip of moonlight cascading through the gently rippling waters, she looked almost ethereal. There could be no snarky comments or irritating little habits; in stillness and silence she was captivating, absolutely perfect.
Another kiss, and another, until his brain was no longer capable of rational thought amongst the onslaught of hormones, and he licked the skin at the crook of her neck. Not a tentative dab with the tip of his tongue but a thick, wet stripe. She tasted of the tang of her perfume and partially of the sweat brought on by her night terrors; so enticingly forbidden. There was no stopping now—he was bordering on crazed, his mind addled with lust and a reckless disregard for any consequences.
His hand slid down her clothed back as he ignored his straining erection; there would be time for that soon. With gentle tugs, he worked on shimmying her pyjama trousers down, the soft skin of her cheeks that brushed his knuckles sending his head spinning. Faster he moved until she was exposed to him, and he took a moment to drink in the soft curves before cupping her behind with both hands.
What he wouldn’t give to dig his fingertips into her flesh, to leave bruises and indents along her hips. His fingers flexed involuntarily at the thought, barely pulling himself back before he acted on the impulse. He needed to be gentle, just like the steady breaths she continued to exhale. His hand glided down, slipping between her thighs where he was greeted by her slick entrance.
Sebastian could have spilled just then, messing his pyjamas from simply feeling her arousal. He took a deep breath as his middle finger gently stroked his prize before slowly pressing inside her. She had no reaction, none whatsoever—both reassuring and deeply disappointing. He was up to his knuckle, teasing her open with strokes of his finger. In the near-silence every squelch was audible, and deliciously obscene.
"So fucking wet for me," he whispered, barely audibly.
She shuddered, and Sebastian flinched and stilled his hand as his heart almost leapt out of his chest. That had been a sudden reaction to his words, not his slow and steady movements. He waited, but her eyes stayed shut and breath remained steady as she appeared to sleep on. Resuming his rhythm, he had the sneaking suspicion that she was at least partially lucid. She was letting this happen.
He slipped another finger inside her, growing steadily more reckless as he felt himself lose control over his desire. The minutes spent preparing her felt like an eternity, but once he was finally satisfied she could handle him, Sebastian was barely holding it together. As his hand wrapped around his cock to guide his way, a tiny moan fell from his lips before he could stop himself. Still she didn't stir, an invitation to continue.
He pressed his head against her dripping entrance and pushed, stopping as just the tip was enveloped in her warmth. So fucking perfect. All Sebastian could think of was filling her up completely, letting her drip his seed onto the sheets as she slept on, completely oblivious. The thought was almost enough to end him, and he willed himself to move, screwing his eyes shut in some pathetic attempt to delay his release.
He was doomed as soon as she began to stir at the first thrust. He moved slowly, gently, but he hit her deep, and those soft, rhythmic breaths became quicker and uneven. And then she moaned. Not a breathy sigh but an exclamation of pleasure that his roommates would no doubt have heard. He wished then that he could delve into her thoughts, to see what her unconscious mind had conjured in response to his intrusion. He was sure that he would see himself, pleasuring her as he did now.
"I'm so fucking close, please let me come," Sebastian whispered in her ear.
He didn't expect a response, at least not a lucid one—even if she'd given him one, he was too far gone to have processed it. The flutter of her walls around his cock was almost too much, and a confirmation that she was enjoying this just as much as he was. Every heavy breath against her neck and every shunt across the mattress brought her further out of her deep sleep. At that point, Sebastian cared very little about what might happen if she did wake, clinging to the belief that she would welcome his advances with open arms.
"Oh…wha-…?"
A confused and hoarse whisper escaped her throat, her eyes still glued shut.
Fuck.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Please say no.
"Don't…don't stop…"
Sebastian willed himself to last just a little longer, not merely seeking his own gratification but determined to have her fall apart by his touch.
"Come on, beautiful…," he encouraged with the smallest whispers.
She was so tight, her muscles gripping his cock as her abdomen clenched under his palm before she reached her climax. She writhed against him with heavy breaths and involuntary moans, the pulsing around his length enough to tip him over the edge with her. Sebastian groaned as he stilled, allowing the grip of her slick cunt to tease every drop of cum from him. The light was too dim to see clearly, but his finger found where they joined and his vision faded to black at the utter euphoria of the feel of his seed dripping from her.
Once the ringing in his ears subsided and he propped himself up on his elbow, he'd half expected her to greet him with a dozy smile, but her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Her body still twitched against him, but her breath was slowing once again, her limbs limp against the mattress. She was still asleep, and whatever words she'd uttered had been a product of her unconcious mind.
Shame washed over him once more, tempered by the knowledge that she'd been dreaming of him. He'd told himself this was the last time, now he'd been satisfied, though she looked even more angelic now that he'd had his way with her—she had a slight sheen of sweat across her deeply blushing skin that glistened tantalisingly in the light from the celestial bodies. Reining in the desire to taste her again, he let her rest, performing his cleanup ritual in silence. His spells were much more effective now, though he hesitated when he pointed his wand at the pool of cum dripping from her violated cunt. He rubbed his fingers into the damp fabric, carving the memory into his brain before it vanished.
Sebastian slept soundly that night, holding her tightly as he waited eagerly for morning.
-
She looked positively elated, if slightly abashed, and Sebastian knew why. She must remember the dream, the mind-blowing orgasm he'd given her—he could practically feel the heat coming off of her.
"What's got you smiling this morning?" Sebastian asked over the breakfast table.
"I had a strange dream, that's all," she said, barely suppressing a smirk as a blush crossed her cheeks.
"Oh? What about?"
She lowered her voice to barely a whisper, casting furtive glances around the table for anyone listening in.
"It was quite scandalous..."
Sebastian looked up at her from his dipped head with a knowing smirk, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
"Yeah? And who, pray tell, did this dream involve?"
"Garreth Weasley," she giggled.
The colour drained from Sebastian's face and a burning rage coursed through his veins. His mouth formed a hard line as he looked back down at the table and hoped she hadn't noticed his reaction. Oh, last night wouldn't be the last time, not by a fucking long shot—Sebastian's pride wouldn't allow it. He would have her dreams reflecting reality, until she moaned his name in her slumber.
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lowkeychenle · 4 months
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Cruel Summer [ZCL] (M)
Description: He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (This fic is Chenle's POV!)
A/N: this is inspired by 'Cruel Summer' by Taylor Swift, please do listen to this song because it is SO AMAZING.
Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst (very minimal angst, like u rlly have to squint)
Content Warnings: LOTS OF FLUFF AND SMUT. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK OKAY. Drinking, alcohol, intoxication, some instances of friends being shitty/pushy Smut warnings: this has so much smut oh my god. anyway, use of pet names 'sunshine,' 'baby,' 'pretty,' and combinations of them, rough, unprotected sex, protected sex, choking, the smut rlly progressively gets softer but kinkier? a wee bit of dacrophyilia, one oral scene (m receiving), and i think that's it...i'm so sorry if I missed one this thing is so fucking long
Word Count: 20,050 (seriously wtf did I DO?!)
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (feat. Mark, Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, and two female OCs, Chaeyoung & Heewon)
Juliet's Masterlist | Requests
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Day 1 | June 1st
Chenle, for his entire life, had always said summer was his favorite season. As time went on and he got older, that sentiment got less and less real to him. Now approaching his 23rd year of life, he’d been around long enough to know things younger Chenle never would’ve dreamed of.
Every single summer since high school graduation, Chenle has invited his friends to his family’s vacation house on the beach—including you, his best friend since middle school. You’d seen him through all his awkward phases, and the best part of his month-long summer excursion was seeing you despite how busy the two of you were throughout the year.
For thirty days, everything was normal. You were around, and he relished in your company.
For thirty days, he was able to forget everything except for you and a handful of other friends.
Not that he could ever not have you at the forefront of his mind. Despite the busy schedules you both endured, you somehow ended up crashing at his house often, or vice versa. He often occupied the other side of your bed and, for a long time, thought it was completely normal despite the very odd reactions some people had when he explained he wasn’t your boyfriend.
Nothing had ever happened. At least, not literally. He’d thought about making a move and kissing you, but he decided it wasn’t worth losing your friendship. Throughout your years together, he’d seen you get in relationships, get your heart broken, and break hearts. You’re comfortable being at your lowest with him, and he builds you back up piece by piece without complaint.
“Chenle,” you call from outside, jogging up to the front door. “Is everything in the car? Jaemin and Jeno are almost here.”
He raises his eyebrows as he glances around his house, wondering if he’s forgetting anything. And without meaning to, he scans over you as if he hasn’t been around you all day. Your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat from the overwhelming heat outside, and your shorts climb up your thighs with every passing second, but he swears he doesn’t notice.
“I think so. If we’re missing anything, we can just run into town,” he suggests, tagging his fingers on his sides to stop himself from reaching out to you.
Chenle had a little secret—one he hated keeping from you, but had to nonetheless—and it was simply that he was in love with you. It took him years to come to terms with it. After all this time, he accepted it. If he’s around you, the way he acts doesn’t have to change in the slightest. He’s always treated you as more than a best friend, as you’ve done to him, so there’s no reason for him to ruin that…right?
“You good?” You tilt your head at him. “We’re wasting time.”
“We have a whole month,” Chenle retorts.
“And you’re taking away from our first day.” Your eyes narrow, but before he responds, you turn your back on him and rush out the door, yelling at who he assumes is Jaemin finally arriving.
The four of you are driving together, while Mark, Hyuck, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were taking Mark’s car. They’d probably be a bit late, but Chenle didn’t mind.
His favorite thing was road trips—especially if you were involved. Even when Jaemin and Jeno slept in the backseat, you and Chenle had the radio up, the windows down, and you were singing at the top of your lungs. Your best look is when you’re this happy, yelling lyrics without a care in the world. He shouldn’t, but he steals glances at you whenever he can. You sing, looking at him and grabbing his arm and shaking him depending on what songs were on. Giggles pour out of your mouth when he gives you an incredulous look.
The song you replayed the most these days was Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift, and he would never get tired of it. Every time the chorus came on, you swept him up in your performance, and he almost laughed at the way he related to the lyrics.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He wanted more, but he liked you like this. Hands flying into the air as you scream along to the music. Sooner or later, he ends up joining you. Whenever you’re involved, it’s not weird to find Chenle a single step behind you.
Chenle’s family had a large house on the beach. It was split down the middle, and one of his parents’ conditions was that the boys would stay on one side and the girls on the other. They didn’t have a way to prove any different, but everyone respected their rules.
Jaemin and Jeno typically played whatever game console was in the living room while Chenle got to spend a little bit of alone time with you before the rest of the hyper ones got in.
He stands across the kitchen, watching as you unload all of the snacks you brought onto the counter. After a long drive, the sun is setting on the horizon, and the pretty colors reflecting off your skin have him beyond distracted. It wouldn’t be weird for him to hug you. He’s been clingy with you since…well, since he first met you.
“You sure you don’t want any help?” he asks.
“It’s just little things.” You shrug, waving him off. “That drive was…exhausting.”
He laughs, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself.
“What?” You continue taking boxes out of the bags.
“The drive always knocks you out, but you do the same thing every time anyway.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna sit with Jaem and Jeno. Come out when you’re done?”
You grin at him. “I’ll only be a few more minutes. Go ahead.”
He leaves you in the kitchen, the nightfall creeping into the house and making his eyes heavy. His bed calls to him from upstairs, but he wants to wait for you. And he doesn’t have a choice but to wait for Mark and the rest of the gang, because they’ll have to have a way inside.
When you join him, you’re equally as tired as him. You slump next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. With your warmth pressed against him, he smiles and wraps his arm around you. Jaemin and Jeno are battling away, sleep not touching them any time soon after the nap they had in the car.
“You okay?” he whispers, careful not to alert the other two.
Nodding, you curl into him further, sighing into his chest. He hugs you, and somehow, you end up curled into a ball on his lap, head buried in his neck. Your breath tickles his skin, but he doesn’t dare disturb you.
He cradles the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your scalp. When your breathing steadies, he relaxes. You’re asleep, and if he knows himself at all, he’ll be following you in no time. Any time you’re tired after a long day, you curl into him like this, and he’s come to relish in these moments.
His eyes flutter shut, his own exhaustion peeking through. Absent-mindedly, he presses his lips to the top of your head.
“Ew,” Jaemin groans, giving Chenle a disgusted look. “They make rooms for whatever’s going on there.”
Chenle glares at him once, and he purses his lips and turns his attention back to the game.
“Seriously, if you want to go to bed, we’ll wait for the others,” Jeno offers. “We are capable of opening a door.”
Chenle contemplates it for a moment. He knows he should be the one to greet everyone, but the gentle snores escaping you makes him want to cuddle you properly. It wouldn’t be the first time one of you “snuck in” to the other side of the house and stayed with one another. At the end of the day, he couldn’t get enough of you. Your skin is soft beneath his fingertips, and despite everyone knowing how desperately he wants you except for you, he likes to act like it’s a secret.
“Alright,” he mumbles, shifting under you to see if he’ll be able to find a way to hold onto you. “Make sure to lock it when they arrive.”
Jeno and Jaemin don’t say anything else when he lifts you up and walks you down the hall toward his bedroom. He lays you on his bed first, pulling the blankets back to settle you beneath them.
You’re so peaceful like this—face soft, the slightest smile on your lips. He finds himself dragging his thumb along your cheek just to be able to touch you. You’re perfect to him. 
He climbs in next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you against his chest. You hum quietly, subconsciously turning to him and bury your head in his chest. He grins to himself at the feeling, at the idea of you being so accustomed to him that you’ll want him even in your sleep.
Kissing the top of your head, he lets out a sigh of content before resting back against his pillow.
Day 2 | June 2nd
The morning together was just like any other—you stayed cuddled up until eight came along and the others were whining down the hall about being hungry. Chenle wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone verbally, but the reason he likes these vacations so much is because of the privacy he gets with you.
Yeah, all of your friends are there, but they’re used to the level of clinginess Chenle has with you. His family, on the other hand? If they knew he woke up at 6:30 am and stayed with you wrapped up in his arms for an hour and a half…
“We should go help before they burn down the kitchen,” you murmur, sighing quietly.
“The longer I can stay in bed, the better.” He squeezes you tighter. “Five more minutes.”
You nod in agreement, shuffling closer. His hand rubs up and down your back, gently dragging his nails to help soothe you further. How you’re unaware of his feelings for you is beyond him—he’s always treated you this way. Like you’re the most important person in his life.
Because…news flash, you are.
Eventually, the two of you have to get up. Mark and Heewon are in the kitchen, and you immediately deduct that that’s a mistake. Chenle quickly shoos them from the kitchen, taking over the role of breakfast chef with your help.
While the two of you cook together, he never has to verbally ask you things. You’re in such harmony, it’s like you know every single move he’s going to make before he does.
“So,” Jaemin says, sitting down on one of the stools behind the island. “The girls said they want to go to the bar tonight. You guys down?”
“Tonight?” Your eyebrows pinch, and your lips turn downward. “It’s only day two.”
“Yeah, we’re trying to maximize our fun time,” Jeno interjects, taking a seat next to Jaemin. “We’ve only got thirty days before we return to the real world.”
“Sorry, you’ll have to count me out.” You scrunch up your nose. “But I’ll start doing things tomorrow. I just need to recharge a little more before I go out anywhere.”
Jaemin turns his attention to Chenle, either wanting him to convince you to go, or to see if Chenle will also be staying in.
“Sorry, Jaem.” Chenle shrugs. “I’m not leaving her here by herself.”
You appreciatively poke his side, something the other two boys don’t see, but it makes his heart flutter nonetheless.
“You two are only forgiven because of the breakfast you’re making. We expect hangover breakfasts tomorrow, too.” Jaemin crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.
“We’ll see.” Chenle continues chopping the onion, sending a quick smile your way when you finish washing the green peppers and putting them down in front of him.
He figured he’d be used to you by now—to the feelings he’s harbored for so long. But every time you prove, once again, that you know him just as well as you know yourself, it makes him want you so much more.
Chenle ended up making dinner, too, which was simply microwaving ramen for each person until everyone was content. Mark, Hyuck, Jaem, Jeno, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were all leaving by six, swearing they wouldn’t be home too late.
“Make them order pizza or something,” you suggest to him as you dry the dishes he washes. “They’re grown adults with money.”
“I kinda like this,” he admits.
“Cooking for the same friends you’ve been cooking for since 7th grade?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he snorts.
“Cooking for people in general,” he corrects. “And I like that you’re here to help me. Or just here at all.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t mean it like that. Let me appreciate your company, asshole.” He finishes up the last dish and turns the water off before handing it to you.
You hum in response, quickly drying it before setting it in the cupboard where it goes. Turning toward him, you lean the small of your back on the counter while your hands grip the edge. Your gaze scans over him, and he swears he feels his spine twist in the most delicate of ways. He loves when you look at him, and whenever you study him, he wonders what kind of lessons he teaches you.
“Thanks for staying back with me,” you say.
“Of course.” He waves you off. “I didn’t want to go to the bar anyway.”
“So, what do we do?”
Chenle chuckles. “Not a clue. The possibilities are endless, I guess.”
“Do you still have that karaoke machine?” You narrow your eyes at him as you await his response.
“Is that even a question? Hell yeah, I do. We can get it set up?”
The smile spreading across your face makes his heart skip, and despite how much he wants to reach out for your hand to pull you down the hall, all he does is gesture to the direction you need to go in.
You clap your hands, quickly following his lead.
This room used to be an office of sorts, but has since evolved now that Chenle’s parents don’t come here anymore. The desk has been pushed against the wall next to the TV, and a large couch takes up the majority of the room. A long time ago, he thought it’d be funny to buy a karaoke machine after he’d realized how much he likes to sing, and it just so happened that you felt the same way.
Every time the two of you come here, it’s a must. However, he hasn’t had the opportunity to have it be just you. Someone else was always intruding on his time, at least for the past few years.
Part of the reason he fell for you in the first place was because of how similar you were to him. You shared similar interests and passions that he didn’t usually find in other people. That, or he wasn’t looking once he realized how much he wanted you.
He loves music, and in every piece he hears, he finds you.
You deeply relate to the music you enjoy, and he admires that about you as well. You pick the songs for the evening, and he has no qualms. He’d rather listen to your picks on repeat than try and go off on his own.
The night starts off easy, some of the songs you pick are classics that you make him do every time. After three songs, you picked Cruel Summer. He knows all the lyrics by now—he memorizes everything that comes out of your pretty lips, regardless of if it’s a song or not. He’ll never forget those lyrics for as long as he lives.
Your laugh is so damn contagious. He tries his best to pull that sound from you every chance he gets, but the air around you is…bittersweet. These moments are his favorite—where he gets to have fun with you and forget the rest of the world exists. But they also make him want you more, and everything you could give him. He wants to be yours, and nights like these prove to him that you’re not.
Three songs in, and you’re both panting and laughing your asses off. Karaoke is never just singing—no, you dance until your legs feel like they’ll give out. That’s Chenle’s number one rule, that it’s never enough to sing the songs. You’ve got to perform them.
But Cruel Summer starts, and he can’t help but see the irony of you singing it in his presence. Or him joining you in it.
Fever dream high in the quiet of the night
You know that I caught it
He sings along, but he quiets himself. Listening to you has become one of his favorite pastimes, so he’ll take any opportunity he can. He dances with you, spins you around, and begs any sort of higher power that he can have you like this forever.
And it's new, the shape of your body
It's blue, the feeling I've got
And it's ooh, whoa, oh
It's a cruel summer
It's cool, that's what I tell 'em
No rules in breakable heaven
A gold gleam catches in the dim lighting when he twirls you in a circle, and he grins. He loves when you wear that bracelet—which is all the time, because he’s got one nearly identical, but yours has his name on it and his has yours.
The chorus makes him move around the room, hyping you up at every chance he has. You laugh through the lyrics, out of breath from the previous songs, too.
So cut the headlights, summer's a knife
I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone
Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes
And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know
God, he fucking loves you.
The room fades around him while he’s having fun with you, and he wishes he could spend every moment this way. With the excited glow to you, the carefree laughter, the genuine fun.
I'm drunk in the back of the car
And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)
Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
As the lyrics pick up, he joins in for real. This part of the song is his favorite, because the next lyrics are exactly what he wants to say to you but can’t work up the courage to do it.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He imagines hearing those words from you, too full of emotion to keep them in any longer. You yell the lyrics between laughter, throwing your head back and dancing as if you’ve been drinking. He watches you so fondly, he’s sure you’ll notice. 
The chorus comes back, and you walk up to him like you’re serenading him, making dramatic hand motions while he laughs at you. His whole body buzzes when you’re like this. When everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
Something changes. He doesn’t notice at first, but your expression changes. The song is about to end, and his heart lurches violently in his chest.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He looks at you as the last lyrics pour from your mouth, the wide smile on your face dissipating when you see how close he is to you. Instead of yelling them like you did last time, the words trail off, barely leaving your mouth as a whisper. His chest heaves from the energy expended, yours mirroring his. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, the adrenaline sitting on top of his lungs as his brain malfunctions on what to do next.
Honestly, he doesn’t know who does it. Someone leans forward, and your lips are locked. Passion lingers, desperation tugging at his very soul at the feeling of your arms around him. His heart pounds in his ears, almost blocking out how Cruel Summer’s instrumental repeats in the background.
He clenches his fists in the fabric of your shirt, praying, hoping this isn’t one of his bullshit dreams. Without any idea how it happened, he relishes in the softness of your mouth, the way you accept his tongue so easily, and the soft moan you let out when he tugs on your bottom lip gently.
He pants harder now, forehead against yours as he tries to figure out what the hell he should do. You should stop. All of this is a mistake—he didn’t want his first time with you to be like this, where his want makes his pants tighter in record time. The only logical thought in his brain is that damn sound you just made and how he can drag it from you again and again.
Thunder booms in his veins as he pulls you back to him, the second he was without your kiss much too long. You press yourself to him, digging your nails into his shoulders. It’s almost like he has no control over his actions at the moment, the long-standing need for you clouding his judgment.
The pretty, pretty sound you make when he spins you around and practically slams the small of your back against the edge of his desk has him forgetting everything else exists. It’s only you. You and how fucking badly he wants you.
He doesn’t dare speak a word.
Inhaling sharply, he sweeps his arm across all the miscellaneous junk on top of it, successfully and messily clearing a spot for you to sit. You take the hint, hoisting yourself up on the edge and spreading your legs to give him room.
Heat pulses through the room, sending waves through his body. He wants to peel all of his clothes off, have you naked beneath him, and take you in all the ways he’s dreamed off. The glimpse of your black panties below that damn skirt has him more than ready for you.
You tug him closer, interrupting the way he stares at your core. His cock already strains, begging to be buried inside you. He’s not sure where the hell this side of him came from, but the dark gleam in your eyes has him forgetting there’s anything wrong with it.
Sweat already arises on his skin, the mere thought of having you this way enough to send him into a fucking cardiac arrest. There’s no time to be timid—he reaches beneath your skirt to find the hem of your panties, mouths still clashing beautifully.
Without interrupting the kiss, you nod, lifting your hips up so he can rip the skimpy fabric from your body.
Your hands fly down to his pants, and his heart starts doing backflips. Neither of you has said a word, and he thinks for a moment that he should…just to make sure he’s what you want. But at the same time, he figures you know as much as he does how this is a long time coming.
“Do you—”
“I need you right fucking now,” you murmur, shaky fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. “Fuck, help me.”
His mouth waters. He wishes he could take his time with you, but having you squirming and asking for him to be inside you makes him crazy. Without wasting another second, he reaches down and pushes his pants down to the middle of his thighs. He gasps when you grab him over his boxers, gripping him like you’ve done this exact thing with him hundreds of times.
God, he can’t fucking take it anymore. Pushing your back down against the desk, he flips your skirt up to expose your slick entrance to him. One of his hands grips your hip and digs his nails into your skin, and the other pushes his boxers down.
He debates with himself for a second on how he should do this. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but he’ll really fucking explode if he’s not inside you within the next ten seconds. He plans on being good, on giving you a second to adjust to him, but when he gently starts pushing inside you, your wetness gushes around him.
Your walls stretch to accommodate him, and your back arches on the wood, and your mouth falls open, and suddenly he can’t control himself. If he gives himself a few seconds to enjoy you while he’s buried so deep, he’ll never be able to let you go. He’ll need to be inside all the time, and that doesn’t sound much like best friends.
Your moans spill recklessly past your lips, the jolt of his thrusts distorting the sound. Fuck, he loves you, but he never imagined sex could feel this good. You flutter around him, urging his cock to move faster, and he does his best to oblige. The desk slams into the wall over and over again, the sound almost as erotic as the sight before him.
You try and fail to find something to hold onto, and when he sees your friendship bracelet—the one with his fucking name on it—he loses it. He puts his hand beneath your neck, pulling you up so you’re face to face. Your face is blissed out, eyes barely staying open as he gives you everything he’s got.
His skin is sticky with sweat, the clothes uncomfortably clinging to his back, he reaches between the two of you, growing frustrated that he left your skirt on. He throbs inside you, desperate to reach his end, so gives the fabric a firm tug, and you gape when it rips at the seam. He half-expects you to scold him for ruining a perfectly good outfit, but instead, your hips buck toward his. 
A tingling sensation forms at the base of his length, and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before he reaches completion. Without wasting another second, his hand dives between your legs, your arousal making his thumb glide effortlessly across your clit.
Your body shakes, and you lean forward to bury your head in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to contain yourself. He can’t hold back his moans, moving just a bit faster and adjusting his angle to increase your pleasure.
“Fuck, Ch—”
He tangles his fingers in your hair and tugs you back to watch your face.
“Fu—Close,” you whine, lifting your hips to match his thrusts. “I’m cu—”
You cut yourself off with a scream of pleasure, and he swears your walls clamp down on him so tightly, his cock will get stuck. His thrusts falter at the overwhelming feeling of your euphoria, and as soon as it hits you, he’s spurting inside you.
He kisses up the side of your neck, barely breathing properly as he regains his composure. His orgasm wracks his body, pulsing throughout his veins and his bones.
You grasp onto him for dear life, and he returns your embrace. His chest is against yours, both hearts pounding.
And then reality sets in. The music returns to his ears, the beat to Cruel Summer still on a loop, and he wonders how closely you relate to the lyrics.
“Um,” you say breathlessly. “Wow.”
“That…”
“Happened.” You nod, a dazed look on your face as you blink past the shock.
He gulps, wishing that best friend telepathy was real at a time like this. How does he respond to that? Did you enjoy it? Are you already regretting it?
“Chenle,” you murmur.
“Yeah?”
“You’re still…inside me.”
His face burns, and he quickly pulls out of you, trying not to look at the mess he knows is between your legs. He turns away from you to settle himself back in his pants, and he finds your panties on the ground where he threw them.
He gives them to you, and you awkwardly shuffle off the desk before sliding the fabric back up your legs. But he doesn’t want you to…walk away. He wants to take you back to his bed and cuddle you to sleep. To take care of you like he should after such an intimate moment.
Surely, he can’t kiss you, can he?
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Seriously?” You frown at him. “That’s what you want to ask me right now?”
“I don’t really know how to—”
The front door opens, just down the hall as your drunk group of friends arrives back. Your face drops, and you curse under your breath.
“Damn it.” You frantically look around for something to cover your lower half before you go.
Guilt tears at Chenle’s chest—not just because of the ripped skirt, but because it seems like you’re not very happy with your decision. The last thing he ever wanted was to push you into anything. He grabs a blanket from the couch on the other side of the room and hands it to you.
“Chenle! (Y/N)!” Jaemin’s hammered voice booms across the house. 
“(Y/N), can we just—”
“Not now, Chenle.” You shake your head, wrapping yourself up in the blanket and grabbing the split fabric to hide it.
You loop your fingers in his belt loops to tug him close to you, and his jaw drops as he stumbles over. Instead of doing any of the things he wanted you to, you tuck his shirt into his jeans. He’s about to ask you what you’re doing, but then he feels how soaked it is.
Again, his face is on fire. How the hell is he supposed to do this?
He runs his fingers through your hair to fix the tangles, heart racing. As soon as he takes a step away from you, the door opens. Jaemin pours in without any concern.
“Well,” you say, chuckling. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“(Y/N), wait—” Chenle reaches out to you but decides at the last minute to stop, knowing how much is riding on that damn blanket staying put.
“Goodnight, Chenle.” You glance at him, eyes wide and swirling with something he can’t quite put his finger on.
“It smells weird in here,” Jaemin grumbles as he waddles around the room. “Why?”
“Dunno,” Chenle replies with a grimace. “It’s because you’re drunk. Off to bed with all of us.”
Yep…except he’ll be alone, when all he wants is to be curled up with you.
Day 3 | June 3rd
When Chenle wakes up in the morning, he’s pretty sure everything was a dream. He messes with the bracelet latched on his wrist, gulping at the memory of you. How is he supposed to act normally now?
He has to talk to you. Figure out what the hell you’re thinking, because if you regret it, it might break his heart, but he’ll know how you feel about him. You’ve told each other stories of previous relationships, hook-ups, whatever just came out randomly. He never imagined he’d be one of those hook-ups.
And now his bed is all too empty without you, and it’s only day three. 
Images of the night before flash through his mind, and he analyzes everything he sees to try and figure out what he did wrong. If he did something wrong. You almost always sleep next to him, so if this persists, the others will begin to notice, too.
He gets out of bed, hands shoved into the pockets of his pajama pants as he makes his way to the kitchen. Everyone else is awake, the guys and Heewon sitting on the couch. You and Chaeyoung were nowhere to be found, but he tried his best to make it nonchalant. He didn’t want everyone to know he messed up with you. That explanation would be hard.
He glances in the kitchen and still doesn’t see you or your closest friend (besides him, obviously), so he sighs and sits on the far end of the couch. The awkwardness creeps in, like the whole group secretly knows what you two did. Like they’re silently judging him for single-handedly ruining your friendship.
“Who shit in your cheerios?” Hyuck asks, shifting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“Huh?” Chenle frowns. “Nothing happened. I’m just tired.”
“Oh, (Y/N) said you weren’t feeling well last night. She and Chaeyoung went to town to grab some medicine or something.” Mark stretches before getting up to go into the kitchen. “She seemed worried, are you okay?”
Chenle gulps, and he hopes it’s not noticeable. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
Thankfully, they continue their conversation. He can relax for a bit, and then when you come back, he’ll pull you aside. After all, he won’t let this fester. He needs to talk to you—to find out if you view him any differently since he crossed that line with you. The last thing he wants is for anything to change. He likes your friendship the way it is, but he’s also been so desperately in love with you for so long that hope clings to him like a leech.
The door opens, and his head jolts toward it when he hears your laugh. His hands clench into fists, and he’s halfway certain he looks like a lost puppy right now.
The second you see him, he watches your expression change. Your giggle stops halfway through, and you clear your throat as you give him the same wide-eyed look you gave him last night. He wants to jump up and tell you things don’t have to change, maybe even beg you for your forgiveness and say he’ll do anything to keep you in his life—
You and Chaeyoung disappear into the kitchen, and Mark comes back in shortly after. Chenle’s getting antsy, his anxiety sparking at the bottom of his spine as his foot taps on the floor. If he jolts up and runs after you, everyone will know something is wrong.
And if they all know, it’s only a matter of time before Jaemin opens his big mouth, and then you’ll be forever embarrassed by the idea of sleeping with Chenle, and summer vacations will never be the same.
So he gives you five minutes.
“...need to figure things out.” Chaeyoung’s voice is hushed, standing next to you on the far end of the kitchen.
“Yeah, tell me about it. But I—” You stop the moment you catch Chenle in the room.
“I think Jeno needs me for something,” Chaeyoung mentions, sending a small smile his way before darting out of the room. He sighs. If you told Chaeyoung, you’re probably more freaked out than he thought.
You look down at your feet as he approaches you.
“We need to talk about this,” he mutters. “I don’t like feeling like I fucked up.”
Your gaze darts up to his, your eyebrows furrowed as you scan over his face. “This isn’t really the best place to talk, Le. Any of them could walk in right now.’
“I’m not just—I’m not going to forget about it. It happened, okay? And it’s okay if you’re upset by it and you never want to be near me again, but I…I need to know. The silence is killing me.” He realizes it hasn’t been that long, but sleeping alone really got to him.
“Why would you think I’m upset?” you ask.
“You practically ran away from me last night. And you usually sleep with me, and you didn’t. You didn’t even tell me you were going anywhere this morning.”
“I figured you’d know where I was going.” You cross your arms over your chest, glancing away from him.
“How could I possibly have known?” he inquires.
“Chenle…” You let out a small laugh. “You…you came inside me last night. Chaeyoung took me to buy Plan B.”
His jaw drops as he flounders for words. Cheeks burning, he drops his head into his hands and sighs. “I’m a fucking idiot. I didn’t even realize, I was so—I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I would ever—”
“Relax.” You put your hands on his shoulders. “I was the one who kissed you. You’re psyching yourself out, because I don’t regret it or anything like that. Actually, I’d…kinda like to do it again.”
Alarm bells ring in his head, and his eyeballs feel like they’re about to pop out of his skull when he looks at you fast enough to give himself whiplash.
“You want to…” he trails off, lowering his voice. “...have sex with me again?”
“I mean, only if you want to.” You chew the inside of your cheek, fidgeting with your fingers. Quickly, you continue, “Obviously, nothing has to change. Like, I’m not asking you for…a relationship or anything. There won’t be any rules. Except the fact that you have to…you know, use a condom, but we could just…have a good summer.”
His heart sinks. What you’re proposing is not what he wants. It further proves to him you don’t reciprocate the feelings that led him to his recklessness last night. He shouldn’t agree. No, he should say he’d prefer to keep anything…sexual…out of your friendship, but God damn it, he was tired of leaving his love on the side. Maybe he can’t tell you out loud, but if you’re okay with sleeping with him, he’ll show you.
“Chenle?” you whisper. “I’m sorry if that’s too much. You can forget I said anything.”
You scramble to gather yourself before you try to turn away from him. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you back to him.
“I wasn’t expecting that.” He pauses, sighing. “Are you sure, (Y/N)? This could get messy.”
“I know I said no rules, but I’m a little bit of a control freak—”
“You act like this is the first time I’ve met you.” Chenle chuckles.
You glare at him before continuing. “Anyway. Nobody can know. I told Chae, but she had to drive me so she doesn’t count. Plus, she won’t tell the others. So, we act normal around our friends, okay? And we don’t…talk about it. Things happen as they will, and we wait until at least the end of June to figure things out.”
“It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he admits, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
“We don’t have to change. But I did like yesterday, and it’s been so long since someone’s made me—” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips into a line. “You know what I mean.”
“I…Yeah, I do know you’ve been with trash guys—”
You gently smack his chest, glaring at him. “That was not permission for a dig.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, his heart melting in his chest when he sees the smile spread on your face. Maybe you don’t have feelings for him, but you don’t hate him—that’ll be enough to get him through this. At least for a while.
“So, we’re good?” You look up at him.
He’s no match for you. Not in any case or situation. His heart belongs to you, and it tears him apart piece by piece to know yours isn’t his.
“Of course, we’re good.” He nods, pulling you in for a hug and sighing in relief. “We can do whatever you want to do.”
“Oh, but that sounds like you don’t want to.” You cringe, but he laughs.
“This is kind of new territory, you know. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have done it the first time.” God, but he wants so much more. He wants all of you, not just momentary flings.
You pull back from him, your gaze gleaming. “And how long have you wanted to do that?”
“I’ll have to get drunk before I tell you the answer to that.” He snorts. “Let’s go back out there before they realize how long we’ve been in here.”
The rest of the day was uneventful to say the least. Chenle was happy to have you back at least in your normal friendship way, so he just enjoyed the way you put your legs over his lap and rested your head on his shoulder.
He didn’t feel awkward around the group like he expected to be, but it wasn’t until later in the night when it really set in. With the two of you in his bedroom, the door closed (and locked).
Watching you closely, he’s dying to reach out and touch you. He’s not sure if it’s normal urges he always felt or if they’re new, from the way he had you just yesterday. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fidgets with his hands.
“You don’t have to be awkward,” you mention to him as you pull your shirt over your head.
He’s not a stranger to seeing your body. You’ve never been uncomfortable changing with him in the room, and he does the same with you. He almost laughs to himself at the thought of seeing you more naked beforehand than while you had sex. His mind races, and when you reach behind your back for the clasp of your bra, his face heats up and he averts his gaze.
It doesn’t matter what he agreed to—it doesn’t feel right to look at you in a state like this without your permission.
Once you’ve pulled one of his T-shirts over your head, you walk over to him, nestling yourself between his legs. He gulps as he looks up at you. Your finger traces along his jaw, eyes scanning over his face.
“Normal, right?” he whispers, gripping the back of your thighs.
“Totally normal.” You nod.
“But I still can…kiss you? If I feel like it?” His voice almost fails him, his heart lodged in his throat.
“When we’re alone, you can do whatever you want.”
Your words make his heart stop in his chest, and he realizes the implications of this. If he’s fallen completely for you without kissing, sex, and the intimacy of those physical aspects, what will it be like when he gets you whenever he wants?
“I want it, too.” You cup his cheeks and tilt his head up.
“And if it’s just kissing?” he asks. “What if that’s all I want right now?”
“Whatever you want,” you reassure him. “I’m not expecting you to want sex every night, you psycho.”
“C’mere.” He pulls you closer, one of his hands grasping the nape of your neck. The initial brush of your lips against his has his breath shuddering. He’s not prepared for any of this. It hasn’t really sunk in yet, but the way your mouth tastes has every sense in his body heightened.
He curses under his breath when you climb on top of him and straddle his lap. It still feels like he’s taking advantage of you like this—you don’t know his true feelings, so how could he do this to you?
“Chenle.” You sigh and halt your movements. “If this is too weird for you, we don’t have to—”
He shakes his head, hands immediately flying to your ass and pushing you closer to him. His length is beginning to harden, and he moves you to make sure you feel it through his shorts.
“I…want you.” He squeezes, making your hips roll.
“Then what’s going on?” you ask.
“I just need to get used to it,” he replies. “To acknowledge how much I…It just feels kinda like I’m dreaming.”
“Why?”
“You…” His cheeks are so hot, he thinks they’ll burn off. “I never thought you’d want me like this.”
You chuckle, and much to his dismay, climb off his lap and get into bed. “Little do you know, I was thinking the same thing.”
He yearns to reach out to you, to pull you back to him, but instead, he lets out a sigh and takes his spot next to you. The last thing he needs to do is push you. He’d walk on eggshells if he had to, if only it meant he could keep whatever fragile intimacy occurring between you.
He wraps his arm around your waist, taking a deep breath as you turn toward him and bury your head in his chest.
And after you fall asleep, he’s still up through the night, trying to figure out if there’s any chance of this ending in his favor.
Day 5 | June 5th
He wants you.
Everything inside him burns at the thought of your agreement, and he needs to pull you away from your friends and have his way with you. He tells himself over and over again that patience is key, but he can’t stand it.
The last few days were uneventful—well, as uneventful as they could be when it came to his newfound physicality with you. He thinks of kissing you in front of everyone, showing all of them where his head has been since the second night at this damn place.
How is he so needy after three days?
In closed quarters, you kiss him, hug him, grind on him, he’s sure his head is going to explode any moment. The night at the bonfire is coming to a close, but not fast enough.
“(Y/N)!” Mark calls out from the water’s edge. “How much money for you to jump in?”
You let out a loud ha! and shuffle away from Chenle. The air is warm, so he knows you’ll be okay, but he’s also concerned by how much he’s interested in seeing your body soaked with—
Hyuck’s hand smacks Chenle’s chest, causing him to cough and shoot a glare at the other man. “What the hell?”
“Why are you staring like that?” Hyuck asks. “Nervous Mark’s gonna steal your girl?”
“She’s not my girl.” He has to force the words out. After all, he doesn’t really believe them….or want to. “I’m just tired.”
Donghyuck lets out a childish chuckle, putting his beer bottle to his lips and chugging the rest of it. Chenle sips his own drink, returning his grumpy stare to you. You’re laughing uncontrollably as you climb out of the water, soaked from head to toe. Your head falls back as you hit Mark’s arm, barely able to contain yourself from whatever Donghyuck made him miss.
You’re barely lit by the firelight, but Chenle’s never seen someone so beautiful. Fooling your friends won’t be hard—he knows damn well he’s always acted the same way around you that he does now, and he certainly has been this clingy since day one. You give him one of your award-winning grins, and before he can object, you flop yourself down on his lap, cackling evilly as the water soaks through his clothes, too.
“(Y/N), what the hell—” Chenle attempts to push you off, but you push yourself into him further.
“I’m soaked.” You don’t stop giggling, but Chenle hates the way he reacts to those words.
His face flames, and before you understand what happened, he pushes you from his lap so you’re sitting next to him on the chair. You look at him inquisitively, and he ignores you with another quick drink.
Music plays from the speakers. You get up to switch the song since your phone is the one set up. It’s only at that moment he realizes you know exactly what you’re doing. Cruel Summer plays, and every inch of his body catches on fire.
His throat dries, and you look at him over your shoulder.
Despite every muscle in his body craving for him to approach you and pull you back into the house, he gets up to grab another bottle instead. The night is going to drag, and he’s almost guilty for how he’s thinking. He’s supposed to be here and enjoying the summer with his friends, and all he wants is to be alone with you.
Pushing you to the back of his mind, he tries to engage more in conversations with the group. He gets into a somewhat heated discussion with Jaemin about global warming, and when you take your spot next to him, he naturally puts his arm around you as you lean into him.
“Can we go to bed?” you ask him, lips brushing his ear. “I’m tired.”
“We should wait,” he replies, taking in the rest of the group. “Just a bit longer, okay?”
You whine quietly but nod, putting your head on Chenle’s shoulder. He’s itching to drag you to his bedroom, but he wants things to be as normal as possible. The two of you rarely cut the party short, and on top of that, he’d prefer to know where everyone else was before he started touching you.
It’s only another ten minutes before Heewon decides she’s done for the night. Chenle nearly sighs in relief.
Everyone agrees to head in, and you all casually separate with a quick goodnight. As soon as Chenle’s door closes behind him, he sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.
“You okay?” you ask him, turning him to face you. “You’ve been off all day.”
He shakes his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he examines you. “You…you said you wanted this, and I’m kind of confused. If you act the same, how do I know when you…you know.”
Your eyes gleam as you smile at him. The sight alone has his heart doing somersaults, and he suddenly wishes he could take the question back. He’s tired of wondering—he needs to figure out what all of this means.
“You’re so cute, Lele,” you tease him. “How are you supposed to know when I want you? Always. I’ve been waiting for you to initiate because you seemed a little uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to push you.”
“So, all I need to do is tell you when I’m…” He cringes at himself. “This is weird.”
You move closer to him and sling your arms over his shoulders. “Exactly. All you have to say is that you want me, and I’m yours.” Your voice is so soft and sweet, it caresses his ears and flows into his brain, and his senses become overrun by you.
“I do. Right now.” Is all he says before he swallows his nerves and connects his mouth with yours. You gasp against him, startled at the sudden movement, but within seconds, return his gesture.
His hands move to the small of your back and press you as close as possible, his lips working messily against yours. He wastes no more time; walking you backward, he lets you fall back onto the mattress.
Settling himself between your legs, he takes a second to look at you—to study your face and the look in your eyes that’s never really changed. He wonders how long you’ve wanted him for. Your thighs part to welcome him perfectly, sighing when he rolls his hips tentatively.
“This,” he whispers, lips grazing your neck. “This is how it should’ve been the first time.”
His nerves seep away when your body shudders beneath his. Your hair is still slightly damp, clinging to your skin and enticing him further. He grinds his hardening length over your core and kisses you gently.
“You have to be quiet,” he continues. “Jaemin and Jeno are right down the hall.”
You nod, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him back to you. “I know. I’ll be good, Lele.”
He gapes for a moment, not used to words having such an effect on him. Gulping, he reaches up and runs his thumb along your bottom lip.
“That’s right,” he confirms. “Be a good girl for me and you won’t regret it.”
Your gaze gets a shade darker, and the thought of what awaits him beneath your clothes overwhelms him completely. You grab at his shirt, attempting to pull it off his body. He moves back to remove it, and then you’re arching your back to allow him to do the same to you. Sitting on his knees, he moves his hands up your body until they’re squeezing your breasts through your black lace bra.
“Can I—”
“You don’t have to ask, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, lifting his head so he sees you. “I trust you.”
He’s uncomfortably hard at this point as he takes your shorts off you. Your panties match your bra, and he swears he’s never been closer to finishing in his pants. Nobody has ever made him weak like you do. They’ve never appealed to him in the same way, a way of adoration and love and all the beautiful things life has to offer.
You sit up to unclasp the material supporting your chest, tossing it across the room. Everything inside Chenle melts. You, in this vulnerable state, staring at him impatiently as he pushes you back against the mattress.
He dips down, taking your nipple in his mouth. A quiet sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and his hips buck against yours. He grinds against you as if he’s already thrusting in and out, and he groans at the thought of your wetness all over him.
His nails drag up and down your thigh, and as he pulls away from your breast to move to the other, a strand of saliva follows. The sight is far more erotic than he imagined, and he grips your thigh harshly.
“Kiss me,” you ask him. “Please.”
And someone like him could never deny someone like you—he lunges upward to capture your mouth, his tongue battling with yours as he moves his hand to the hem of your panties. He pulls away for a second, glancing at you once for confirmation.
You nod, almost frantically, and he decides it’s okay to let go for tonight. You want him as badly as he wants you, so why should he hold back? He curses under his breath the second he feels your arousal on his fingertips.
At first, he teases you, running his finger up your entrance until he’s brushing your clit. He smirks at the way you squirm beneath him, desperate for his touch. He’s the one you want.
“Ask me nicely,” he hums against your neck. “Be good and tell me you need me.”
“God, Chenle,” you whine, rocking your hips. “Please touch me. I need you so bad.”
His own eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when he pushes two fingers inside of you. You grip him so tightly, he wonders how you took him so well just a few nights before. He’d been an asshole and got right to it instead of working you up.
Your breaths turn into whimpers, and your walls quiver around him. He’s already lost in you, in the way you feel on his fingers and the scrunch of your face as you try to hold back the noises you’re desperate to make. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to fall for you more than he already has, but tonight, he learns that falling in love is not linear, and it doesn’t stop.
Tonight, he finds out that it’s a free fall into the deepest ocean, and the only option is to sink further in the water and let the waves take him.
He swallows your quiet moan, positioning his thumb on your clit as he continues his descent into madness. Your walls begin to tighten, so he instinctively kisses you, using his hand to help you ride out the high that’s sending shivers down your body. You squirm beneath him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip.
“Where are the condoms?” he asks you.
Still dazed, you blink a couple times. “Uh, I…they’re in the nightstand I think.”
He kisses your cheek, irritated at the coldness when he moves away from you. Sighing in relief once he finds the box, he opens it and tears one away from the rest. He tries to swallow his nerves, but when he sees you resting on your elbows, waiting for him, he halts.
This is you.
The one he’s always been able to be himself around, and what if he’s ruining it by thinking with his dick?
“I know that look.” You lift yourself off the bed and approach him, grabbing the wrapper from him. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I want to,” he says, wetting his lips. “I want you, but I don’t want to lose you.”
You frown, shaking your head and pulling him closer. “It doesn’t matter how this goes, Le. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”
I love you almost slips, but he holds it back. But God, he’s sure he’s never loved you more.
You reach down to push his shorts and boxers down before guiding him back. He sits on the edge of the bed, gripping your hips and refraining from yanking you onto his lap and sliding his cock in.
When you open the condom wrapper, his heart is about to jump out of his chest. And then you’re putting it on him, pushing your panties to the floor, climbing onto his lap to straddle him, and rubbing his tip against your entrance.
It’s like time stops as you sink down on his length. Moonlight flits in through the windows, illuminating your body and your skin and the subtle eye roll. He can’t breathe. Every time he tries, his lungs fail him, as if you’re drowning him with everything you have.
He wraps his arms around you, your chest pressing to his as he slowly, slowly guides you down on him. You both sigh together, trying not to alert your friends down the hall. 
“You’re amazing,” he mutters, dazed. “Feels so fucking good.”
You drop your head onto his shoulder, your uneven breaths fanning across his skin. He rocks his hips, but your tightness almost makes it hard for him to move. This time, he doesn’t want to rush. He wants to enjoy all you have to offer and take his time with you—make love to you, really.
“Hold on, baby,” he whispers, wrapping you in his arms. “Gonna turn us over.”
He does just that, the clench of your walls on his cock enough to make him delirious. After you shift to get comfortable, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pushes your hand deep into the mattress next to your head.
With his chest brushing yours, he moves, taking his time in pulling out only to push back in. Your head falls back against the mattress, your eyes closing. You squeeze his hand as hard as you can, doing your best to lift your hips to match his thrusts.
The room is full of moonlight, soft pleasure, and the sound of him pushing into your dripping entrance.
He whispers praises in your ear, telling you how good you make him feel and how you take him so well. The slickness of sweat makes your bodies stick together, and the room gets hotter and hotter the longer he’s seated deeply inside you.
The first time he had you, he barely had time to process what happened. This time, he’s basking in the moment, giving you gentle kisses over your face as he keeps a steady pace. He wants to stay here like this forever, but he knows better than to let that thought run rampant in his head.
He releases your hand—which ends up in his hair—as he reaches between the two of you and presses his fingers to your clit. You whine a little louder than you should, so Chenle silences you with his mouth. The position is a bit awkward for him, but the buck of your hips makes sure that’s the last thing on his mind.
Your body shudders beneath him, moans spilling into his mouth for him to swallow and keep for his own. He thrusts a little faster, eager to bring you to your edge and experience your pleasure for himself.
You whisper his name like a mantra, euphoria quickly claiming you as you drag your nails down his back. In the midst of that feeling and your walls clamping around him, he bursts into the condom, cursing under his breath. 
Despite his dry throat, he manages to kiss along your neck while attempting to regain his breath.
“That,” he tells you. “Is how it should’ve been.”
“Feel free to do it like that all the time.” Your tired giggle fills his ears.
He squeezes your thigh gently as he pulls out of you, ready to groan at the loss. You lay there with a smile on your face as he disposes of the condom in the adjoining bathroom. When he returns to you, he’s surprised to find you under the blankets on your side.
When he raises an eyebrow at you, you shrug. “You can get dressed if you want. I’m too tired.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he climbs into bed next to you and pulls you close to him. Your skin is damp with sweat, but he’s sure his is worse. He kisses the top of your head, and just like so many nights before, he hums songs for you until you fall asleep.
Day 6 | June 6th
In the night, you curled further into him. His eyes are closed, but he’s been up for a while. Fingers trailing up and down your spine, he thinks he’s reached his peak. The summer sun amplified through the window warms his skin, but more importantly, it illuminates you and the softness of your features as you sleep.
The brightness blinds him, but he doesn’t mind. Not when his focal point is you.
He made love to you last night. All of his feelings were delivered to you on a silver platter and, just for a brief moment, he thinks he saw it back from you. Like there’s a part of you—however small—that wanted him the same way.
The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall wakes you, and you wrap your arm around him tighter.
“This is nice,” you murmur, kissing the base of his neck.
“I think so, too.”
“Do we have to get up?” You shake your head as if answering your own question.
He chuckles. “It might look weird if we don’t.”
“I need to shower.” You shift onto your back and run your hands down your face.
He uses the opportunity to move over you and kiss down your neck, finding your pulse quicker than it should be after just waking up. Nipping your skin to stop his smirk, he inhales your scent.
“You could always come with,” you offer, running your fingers through his hair.
“Now, that’ll be obvious.” He chuckles and pulls away from you, removing himself from the blanket as he stretches. When he looks back at you, you’ve already grabbed his T-shirt from the ground and are in the process of putting it on. He gets a brief glimpse of you. Slamming his eyes shut, he assumes nothing good will come of seeing your naked image in his mind over and over again.
The bed dips behind him as you climb over, draping your arms over his neck and kissing his cheek. “You should do it anyway.”
He snorts and pushes you away jokingly. With your signature grin plastered on your face, you make your way into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Once he hears the water starting, he drags himself over to his bag to get dressed. He decides on a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and on his way out of the room, Jeno is also heading for the kitchen.
Chenle avoids his eyes as much as possible, wondering if any of his escapade with you last night was audible for him or Jaemin. Chasing the thought out of his head, he goes straight for the water bottles in the fridge.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” Mark asks, eating the watermelon Chaeyoung cut up a couple days back.
“She’s in the shower,” Chenle replies nonchalantly, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.
“You didn’t want to join her?” Heewon laughs from the side as she butters her toast.
He narrows his eyes in her direction. “And why would I do that?”
“Well, you guys do everything else together,” she replies.
That earns her a cackle from Hyuck, but Chenle shakes his head.
“We don’t do everything else together.”
“Right, you guys are just dating without the benefits of getting off.” Mark pretends to be lost in thought.
Chenle’s heart twists violently in his chest, nearly lurching him forward. He wants everything from you—anything you want to give him, he’d take without hesitation. Heewon scolds Mark quietly and smacks his arm, because apparently that was what was too far.
He half expects Jeno to pipe up and expose exactly how opposite your relationship with Chenle is now, but he stays silent. Hopefully, that means Jaemin and Jeno heard nothing from last night. Your sounds were for Chenle and Chenle only, and a part of him felt glory in that.
The teasing from the friend group never bothered him before, but with this new side of your relationship, he let the words sink in deep.
How exactly was he going to make it out of this unscathed?
Day 8 | June 8th
Both of you knew it was risky, but something about you had him bent way out of shape. The group was doing their yearly ice cream run in less than an hour, and all he cared about at the moment was being inside you.
He put you on the bathroom counter, your body next to falling off it if he wasn’t holding onto you so tightly. Without much warning, he enters you completely with one thrust. His hand covers your mouth, capturing the moan spilling past your lips. Your eyes roll back, and he swears that sight alone is almost enough to get him off.
You murmur his name against his palm, head lolling back.
“Sorry, Sunshine.” He nips your earlobe as he rocks his hips gently to help you adjust to his size. “We’ve gotta be fast.”
“‘M good,” you say, gripping tightly onto his shoulders.
He takes the hint, beginning his movements a bit quicker than he normally would. Even though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in days, the world sways around him as if he’s drunk. You’re what’s intoxicating him, and in the moments where you’re connected, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.
One hand rests on the small of your back, and the other stays on your mouth, desperate to finish but needing you to stay quiet. Whenever he thinks of being with you in this way, he tries to fuck you in the ways you deserve—make you feel so good you’re dreaming about it long after you’re done—but both of you are far too desperate right now to consider anything like that.
Your nails leave angry red crescents in his skin, but it only spurs him faster. His hips rutt against yours, his body craving the complete euphoria he’s only ever been able to accomplish with you.
His gaze meets yours, and he finds your eyebrows furrowed. Since he’s got such a firm grip on you, you move one of your hands and slide it down your body, watching him closely as if he’s going to stop you.
As soon as your fingers find your clit, you groan and your walls flutter around his cock. He curses, and his next sharp thrust has you whining.
“I’m so…” you trail off, body nearly falling limp in his grasp.
But just before you reach your high, the bedroom door opens, and there’s approximately two seconds before whoever walks in sees inside the bathroom. The next curse that falls from his lips is for two reasons—one, because all he needed was another minute, and he would’ve reached his high. Two, because he now has to figure out a way to make this look like anything except what it is.
He pulls out of you, readjusting your panties and guiding you off the counter before he tucks his painfully hard cock back into his sweats, condom and all.
“(Y/N)’s sick,” he calls out. “Give us a few minutes and we’ll come out okay? She’ll kill me if I let you see her like this.” He moves over to the door and closes it, locking it before whoever it is can see the mess you’ve turned him into.
“Oh, be fucking for real,” Chaeyoung’s voice says. “(Y/N), are you really sick? Or are you two—”
You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear her. Instead of letting Chenle answer, you pull your shirt down to cover yourself before cracking the door open.
“I’m okay. We’ll be out in like, two seconds.”
“You horny bitch.” Chaeyoung purses her lips. “Can’t stay off his dick for five minutes.”
Chenle feels his insides churning at that comment. For a moment, he’s sure she’s being serious, but then both of you burst into laughter, and Chenle’s blood cools.
“We would’ve been out already if you hadn’t interrupted us.” You pinch your fingers together. “I was this close.”
“Are you at least using condoms?” she asks in a hushed voice, turning the tips of Chenle’s ears bright pink.
“Yes, mom, now if you could go, I need to put some actual clothes on.” You shoo her away.
“The guys want ice cream. No dick until later,” she tells you, laughing as she walks out of the room.
You let out a sigh and close the door again, biting down on your bottom lip as you look at Chenle.
“Sorry, we don’t really have TMIs, so she…” You clear your throat.
“No, that’s…that’s good that you have someone to talk to about all of this that’s not me,” he says, walking up to you to put his hands on your hips and tug you close. “You think she’ll be mad if I just…”
He turns you so your back is to his chest, lips latching onto your neck as his touch trails down to the hem of your panties.
“I’d hate to leave you hanging when you were this close.” He tongues along your pulse, skimming below the hem of your panties.
“You’d better make it quick, Lele.” You lean your head back on his shoulder. “She’ll kill us.”
He grins smugly at the invitation, allowing his fingertips to graze lower until he finds your clit. You’re still soaked from being robbed of your high, so your body jerks at the sensation. He grinds against your ass, proving to you how badly he wants to be inside you.
“T-this is going to be embarrassingly fast.” You pant, rocking your hips back and forth. “I need more.” Your hands grip the edge of the countertop, pained whines escaping you.
He moves faster on your clit, and before he’s able to comprehend what’s happening, you squirm and bite down on your hand to stop your noises.
“Look at yourself, baby,” he whispers, his other hand sliding up to your throat to guide your face toward the mirror. “Look at how fucking good you look when I’m touching you.”
You inhale sharply, moving your own hand up to his to press his fingers in around your neck. He rubs you faster, taking his own initiative in squeezing you to control your breathing. Looking up at your reflection, he almost starts drooling at the sight of what he’s doing to you.
Your whines turn into breathless wheezes, and seconds later, you part your lips to let out a silent scream of pleasure as your insides clench around nothing.
He slows his circles to help you come down from your high, showering your shoulder and neck with kisses.
“Alright,” he whispers, retracting his touch from you. “We’d better get going.”
“But you didn’t—”
“You’ll make it up to me later.” He kisses you one last time. “You look so fucking sexy when I’m touching you.”
“Keep talking like that and we’ll never make it out of this bathroom,” you warn him.
You’re doing it on purpose.
Every year, the group goes to the same place for ice cream. Chenle’s been coming here ever since he was a young boy, but it’s been at least 5 years since he started bringing the rest of your friends, too. They have new experimental flavors, and it’s his mission to try all of them.
So, of course, he chooses one, and you choose a different one. The two of you are meant to be acting normally, but the way your lips close around his spoon has his mind spiraling. Not to mention how you make eye contact with him, and that damn gleam in your gaze is enough to make his cock jump in his pants.
How did he ever live without being inside you before?
“Hey, guys.” Chaeyoung tosses her arms over the two of you, grinning widely before lowering her voice. “If you don’t want people to know, you’re doing an awful job. You’re looking at each other like you ingested the worst Harry Potter love potion imaginable.”
The word love throws him off track, and he quickly takes his spoon away from you and side steps to run his fingers through his hair. He has no idea what’s gotten into him. Usually, he’s pretty good about this kind of stuff. And to be honest, before he started messing around with you, he wasn’t nearly as horny as he is now.
No, because now, he feels like he needs to be touching you constantly, and if he’s not, he’s wasting valuable time.
He tries his best to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. At some point, you’ll have to go back to being just his best friend. It pains him that this can’t be forever, but at the end of the day, he has you. Whether or not it’s completely is a different story.
Everyone takes their usual table outside, and you sit between him and Chaeyoung. The guys converse, the girls laugh over something, but Chenle isn’t joining either conversation. Worry sinks deep in his gut instead. He wonders if it’s okay for him to be as nonchalant about the two of you having sex as he is.
You’re his best friend. Regardless of his feelings toward you, he should’ve done the mature, right thing and declined this offer.
But he’s in too deep now, and all it takes is one wide smile from you to tilt the earth on its axis.
For the next couple hours at this ice cream parlor, things are back to normal. He suppresses his urges the way he always has. His mind lingers on you, especially when your voice and your laugh echoes in his ears, and this time…
This time, he knows what he has to do.
Day 15 | June 15th
“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” You close his bedroom door behind you and cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, frowning.
“Don’t play stupid.” Your foot taps anxiously on the ground. “One week, we’re all over each other, and now you’ve barely even touched me since Chaeyoung almost walked in on us. Is that what’s going on? You’re weirded out that she knows things about us?”
“Us.” He scoffs, tugging his fingers through his hair. “What us, (Y/N)?”
You visibly recoil, hurt playing out on your face as Chenle instantly regrets his words. Even then, he’s not going to back down from this.
“You’re starting to piss me off.”
“I…I don’t want sex.” He shrugs.
You wet your lips and narrow your eyes, trying to comprehend what he means by that. “That’s just—like, that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel like you have to have sex with me, Le, but if our friendship is going to survive this, I need you to be honest and open with me.”
“The sex isn’t the problem.”
“Oh.” Your voice waivers, and he immediately wishes he never opened his mouth. A short laugh of disbelief escapes you.
“It’s not you, either,” he quickly adds, grabbing onto your hand. “It’s really not. I…I still need my best friend, though. And it feels like I’m losing that side of you because things are changing. You said nothing would change.”
“I haven’t changed,” you tell him. “Everything I do is exactly what I’ve done last year or the year before that. I’ve been teasing you a little, yeah, but I thought you liked it. Am I an idiot?”
Chenle’s chest deflates. “No. No, you’re not an idiot. I’m an asshole.” He pulls you to his chest and cradles the back of your head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a little kid. All I want is my best friend, and I’m scared that after all of this is over, I’m gonna lose you. I don’t know how to live without you. You know that.”
“You’d only have to worry about ruining our friendship if the dick was bad.” Despite the thickness of your voice, your humor breaks through.
He snorts and pushes you away, rolling his eyes. “Dude, for real?”
“I’m just being honest.” You tug on his arm, and for a moment, he sees a glimpse of your previous friendship.
Maybe everything can work out.
“As your best friend, I think we should watch that movie with Mark and Chae.” You grab his hand and play with his fingers.
“Okay.” He nods. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
That’s how he ends up curled up with you on the couch, your back pressed to his chest and snuggled up with a blanket. He feels at peace for the first time in a long time, the steadiness of your breathing almost enough to lull him to sleep. The screen plays some sort of superhero movie, but he’s not too interested in it. He’s more interested in the way a small sound tumbles from your lips as you turn toward him.
He holds you close, smiling to himself at the warmth you create. When he glances back up, he meets Chae’s gaze. The woman scans over the two of you, her expression warm. Chenle thinks he imagined it for a moment since he’s so tired, but Chae gives him a thumbs up and turns back to the screen.
Day 16 | June 16th
“Chenle, can I talk to you for a minute?” Chaeyoung asks, leaning on the archway leading into the kitchen.
You went with Heewon and Jaemin to the store, so he had nothing to do otherwise. He nods and follows her into the other room. Grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, he tiredly gives her all of his attention.
“What’s up?”
“I saw the way you looked at her yesterday,” she begins, tapping her fingernails against the carpet. “So either you know how you feel or you’re in denial, but you need to tell her. One or both of you are going to get hurt by the end of this if you’re not honest with each other.”
“I appreciate the advice, Chae, but I’m not sure you have all of the facts.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest.
“And what am I missing?” she asks.
“Honestly, you may know some things, but you’ll never know all of it,” he replies. “It’ll never be an easy situation to digest, but we’re best friends. We’re mature enough to handle this.”
“You realize if this all falls apart, it’s going to fuck up the rest of the group, too?” She frowns. “You guys aren’t really thinking this through.”
Right when Chenle goes to answer her, the front door opens, and he hears your conversation with Heewon spill through the house.
“Thanks for your concerns.” Chenle nods once before turning around to find you.
Day 17 | June 17th
Chenle throws his head back, hand tangled in your hair as you take his cock in your mouth. He sits on the edge of the bed and you kneel before him, drooling over his length. Your moans vibrate around him. This is the first time you’ve sucked him off, but he’s already found out this is as addicting as everything else.
“That’s it.” He allows his eyes to flutter shut and his eyebrows furrow the closer he gets. “You always take my cock so well, Sunshine.”
You whine, and his hips buck, slamming his tip into the back of your throat. You constrict around him, and his grip on your head tightens. God, he can’t fucking think straight around you. Your nails dig into his thighs, and despite choking around him, you continue bobbing your head up and down.
The base of his length starts to tingle, and he tugs your hair gently. “Gonna cum, baby, you don’t have to—fuck.”
Your response is to simply hollow your cheeks, the lewd sounds around the two of you almost loud enough to make him worry about others hearing it. The suction from your mouth has him approaching his high rapidly, and once you reach up to touch his balls, he cums in white spurts deep in your throat.
Day 18 | June 18th
“Chenle,” you whisper, leaning closer to him.
The summer wind brushes past the two of you sitting on the little porch connected to his bedroom. It’s the middle of the night, and the only thing covering you is a soft blanket. He has his own, but he regrets that. He wants to be wrapped up with you. The waves crash to the shoreline, the salty, ocean scent infiltrating everything around him.
“Yeah?”
“This is my favorite summer,” you tell him.
“Me too.” He squeezes your arm. “I’d stay just like this forever if I could.”
You make him open his arms before shifting yourself onto his lap and covering him with your blanket as you grind your bare body down onto his.
“What’s the likelihood they hear us out here?” you ask, leaning in to kiss along his neck.
“They’ve got a better chance of hearing us inside than this…” he trails off, wondering if he should really allow something like this to happen.
But soon enough, you kiss him for real. And when your lips are working on his, he’s inherently weak for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden, and once it does, you line him up with your entrance.
“We don’t have a condom,” he chokes out, gripping your ass.
“Pull out when you’re about to cum, then,” you tell him. “If that’s okay?”
His hand finds the nape of your neck, pulling your mouth to his to seal his fate with a kiss. He guides you down on his cock, groaning at the feeling of taking you raw. You don’t even give yourself time to adjust, instead working your way through your sensitivity by bouncing on him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he reminds you. “Look at how well you take my cock.”
He’s learned so much about you during this short time, but he loves knowing what makes you crumble within minutes. His fingers wrap around your throat, and as he puts the perfect amount of pressure, your eyes roll and your hips work faster.
He tightens his grip, and your whine is interrupted. You show him no mercy, lifting and falling with such precision he wants to fill you up with his load.
The blanket is secure on your grip draping off of Chenle’s shoulders, so you nearly fall against him when his fingers connect with your clit. He’s teetering close to the edge, but he knows he has to pull out. No way is he cumming before you.
Your arousal makes him glide against your bud effortlessly, and he squeezes your throat harder at the same time.
“Chenle.” You gasp, pace changing as you get closer to your high. “Please cum inside. Need to feel your cum dripping out of m—fuck.” Your voice breaks as he thrusts up hard, hitting your spot. A broken moan escapes, nearly cut off by his grip on you, and your walls clamp down on his cock.
He watches you as he spurts his load and paints your insides, but all he sees is a blissed out smile and your heaving chest.
You slump against him and hum quietly. He grabs his blanket and wraps it around both of you, not wanting to leave you just yet. The summer breeze sweeps across the back of his neck, chilling the sweaty dampness.
He wants to tell you so badly.
He loves you. He wants to love you forever, but maybe he’ll only get these fleeting moments.
What a cruel, cruel summer this has become.
Day 19 | June 19th
The days pass so quickly. It’s been eighteen days since he first made you his, and all he wants is to make it last forever. The whole group goes to a movie theater, hopping between different rooms and films to catch a glimpse of everything that’s recently hit the big screens.
But he can’t take his eyes off of you.
The way you smile so widely in his direction. How all of your friends are so used to him being all over you.
Your laugh echoes around in his brain, and when the poor employee realizes what you’re doing, they try to stop you to figure out who you are. Chenle’s giggles join yours as he grasps your hand and pulls you toward the exit.
The two of you run, and with your fingers laced in his, you’re somehow separated from your friend group.
Once you’re outside, he presses your back to the brick of the building, kissing you in the midst of laughing. His hand latches onto the fabric of your shirt at the small of your back, and he works his lips on yours like magic.
How is he ever supposed to go back to normal after having you like this?
“Come on,” you tell him, grabbing his wrist and leading him away. “We’ve gotta find them.”
But he knows that no matter where you go, he’ll follow.
Day 20 | June 20th
He lost track of how many times his body has tangled with yours. How many times you’ve quietly, desperately called out his name while he takes you to new worlds you’ve never seen before.
He yearns to be grounded, to plant his feet back on Earth, but how does he do that when the universe that is you infiltrates his very being? All the stars and planets and milky ways and meteors float around in your dazed irises, and he caresses your face.
He loves you. He wants to tell you. He needs you to love him back.
Day 21 | June 21st
“Okay, this one is easy.” Donghyuck holds his hand up to reign in everyone’s excitement. “Never have I ever…kissed someone in the friend group.”
You glance at Chenle once, and he shrugs, so both of you lift your bottles. The point of this game? Get as drunk as possible. Every time someone says something you’ve done, you have to drink. Which means everyone is thoroughly surprised when every single person around the table sips from their cups.
“We’re the worst friend group,” Mark says, nearly hissing at the taste of the liquid burning down his throat. “We said ‘friends’ and turned it into an orgy.”
Heewon glares at him. “Dude.”
“Sorry.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.
But soon enough, six pairs of eyes are on you and Chenle, and he immediately feels his face burning.
“You two want to explain?” Hyuck asks.
“Is everyone else explaining?” Chenle quirks an eyebrow, watching as Donghyuck purses his lips.
“No explanations unless you ask more questions,” you pipe up.
Chenle hopes that’ll divert the conversation from the two of you. His hand brushes over your knee under the table, and you send him a small smile.
“Fine,” Mark says. “Never have I ever kissed my best friend.”
From the corner of his eye, he sees you grab your bottle, so he doesn’t hesitate to do the same. He takes a fairly large drink, forcing the alcohol down his throat to make this night less painful.
Chaeyoung watches the two of you closely, and the rest of the group seems hyped up on adrenaline, like they’ve caught you and him in a lie of sorts. This news can’t be that shocking to them. Or maybe they’re all pining at the idea of being right.
But they’re not—you’re not in love with Chenle. Meaning, they’d be completely wrong.
Jaemin, who’s already had a bit too much from the hour of this game you’ve already been playing, laughs as he points at Chenle.
“I’ve got one.” He nods slowly, the smirk spreading across his face as he leans on Jeno’s shoulder. “Never have I ever had sex with my best friend.”
Your gasp is only audible to Chenle and Chaeyoung, who sits on the opposite side of you. Both you and Chenle are already holding your glasses, and you look at him, silently asking him if that’s something you should admit to the group.
You’re incredibly stiff, but Chenle watches as you slowly lift your hand. Before you get far, Chaeyoung smacks the back of Jaemin’s head.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” she hisses. “You can’t ask them things like that!”
Your cup lands back on the table louder than you planned. Chenle analyzes you, the stiffness of your back and the way you glance down at your lap instead of the rest of the group. His instinct makes him want to pull you away from them to somewhere you’ll be more comfortable.
“Oh, come on! They were about to admit to it.” Jaemin lets out a dramatic sigh. “Did you see the hesitation? They were seconds away from finally telling us if they’ve done it.”
Your hand lands on Chenle’s thigh, and he immediately knows what that means. A switch inside of him turns, and anger bubbles in his stomach. You’re his best friend, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else wants to know—the last thing he’ll let happen is any of them attempting to badger you into admitting something you don’t want the rest of the group to know.
“We’re all friends, why does it matter if we know or not?” Jeno agrees. “We’ve all been waiting for them to—”
“Knock it off,” Chenle deadpans, his voice dropping octaves. He leans forward, his arm crossing over you and his other hand gripping his bottle tighter. At the change in tone, everyone looks at him in shock, excitement fading into a nervous energy.
“Lighten up,” Donghyuck says. “They’re just joking—”
“Well, I’m not,” he replies, furrowing his eyebrows. “The hell’s wrong with you guys? You can’t tell when you’re making someone uncomfortable? Neither of us owe you anything, if you didn’t know that. You don’t need to know everything.”
“Okay,” Jaemin mumbles. “Didn’t know it was that big of a deal.”
“That’s because you don’t think, Jaemin. If anything happens between us that we want to share, we’ll share. But until then, mind your fucking business—”
“Lele,” you mutter to him, reaching forward to grasp his wrist in front of you. “Lele, it’s okay. They get it.”
He instantly relaxes at your words, running his tongue over his teeth as he rests back in his seat. You grasp his hand beneath the table and intertwine your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb against his skin.
“Sorry, (Y/N),” Jaemin says, fidgeting with his hands.
You give him an awkward smile and a nod. Chenle senses the atmosphere won’t return to the chaotic laughter it’d recently been filled with, so he wonders what’ll happen if he lets everyone know he’s taking you to bed.
When everyone resumes as much conversation as they can, Chenle leans in close to you to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go to bed?”
It’s well past midnight, and the alcohol is starting to settle in his system. He is tired. You run your fingers through your hair and nod. He doesn’t say anything to the rest of the group, but you mutter something to Chaeyoung, who gives you a sympathetic smile and a nod.
Although he refrains from physically leading you away, he feels everyone’s eyes on the two of you. It shouldn’t upset him as much as it does. Plus, he wouldn’t mind all that much if they knew, but seeing the way it bothered you suddenly had him on ten. There was no other solution other than to put them all in their place.
Once you’re in the confines of his room, he pulls you into a hug. You melt in his embrace, your body basically limp. He rubs up and down your back, wishing he could take that feeling away from you for good. You deserve the best, and he wants to give it to you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know why they’d fucking do that.”
You shake your head. “They’d know eventually, right? We wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret forever.”
“They should never push something like that. They’re supposed to be our friends, (Y/N). You were uncomfortable.”
“Le,” you say, pulling back to look at him. “As much as I appreciated you standing up for me, all I want right now is my best friend, okay? Just…be that guy, please.”
Both of you change into your pajamas, and then climb into bed. If you wanted him to be your best friend, he could do that. Hell, he’s spent his whole life basically doing it, so as he pulls you to his chest, it’s like muscle memory.
Everywhere Chenle is, you’re right there next to him. Never behind, never ahead, always beside.
“Chenle,” you whisper.
“Yeah, Sunshine?” He strokes your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“I…Can you be my best friend and still kiss me?” you ask. “I don’t want anything else. Just kissing.”
He lifts your chin so you’re looking at him and gives you the faintest smile. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
Your eyes swim with all sorts of emotions, and while he’d love to sit there and analyze each one of them, you allow them to flutter shut in anticipation of his kiss.
He can’t recall a time where he’s kissed you so gently, as if you might shatter beneath his touch. Placing his hand on the small of your back, he presses you flush against him while his mouth works so effortlessly on yours.
There’s no heat behind it. The only sounds are of the rustling of his sheets, the soft sighs, and his quiet compliments between breathing breaks. He allows himself to get lost in this, in the way it feels so different from every other kiss he’s shared with you.
Those kisses all lead to sex. They were a bridge to being physical, but now all he wants is to lie in this bed with you forever, connected in such a basic and innocent way.
“You make all of it better,” you murmur, inhaling deeply. “Everything I am is for you, Zhong Chenle.”
“And you’ve built me from the ground up,” he replies. “I was created for you. I don’t know who I am without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out.”
His heart runs rampant, doing all sorts of backflips in his chest. He starts to sweat even though he’s not physically exerting himself, and he desperately feels like he needs to grasp at something. If he doesn’t, he’ll fall…but can he even more than he already has?
Is falling in love something that happens gradually, continually, or is it all at once? Once you’ve fallen in love, can you still progress further into it, or is that feeling at its peak?
He thinks back to the first time he realized he wanted more from you. It’s been over a year since he admitted it to himself, and the person he was during that time never would believe that this is his life now.
“You promise?” Chenle’s nearly breathless, your words robbing him of the oxygen he needs to survive.
You smile ever so softly, nodding slowly. “I’m yours. Always.”
The promise sinks through his skin and into his bloodstream, flowing all the way through his body and infiltrating his brain. It means so much more to him than it means to you, he knows that, but he kisses you again anyway.
He kisses you over and over and over again. By the time the sun comes up in the morning, neither of you have slept, but your lips are swollen and your eyes are drooping.
No matter what, he’ll hold you to your word.
Day 22 | June 22nd
Two coffee cups steam from the table on Chenle’s patio. He sits, slumped, on the padded bench with you next to him, legs thrown over his lap. His thumb rubs your thigh. Exhaustion has yet to kick in, especially as he looks at you. Your hair is mussed, his T-shirt hanging off your shoulder and your shorts hiking up your thighs. Everything about this is domestic, and it makes his heart flutter.
He stayed up all night with you. The sunrise over the water leaves a calming wave cascading over him, and he gets an odd feeling that it’s all going to be okay.
He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.
You bring the coffee cup up to your lips, sighing at the taste. He made it for you. But not only that, he made it the way you’ve always loved it. You told him once, and he never forgot. Every detail he learns about you is immediately stored in his memory.
“Maybe we should tell them,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. “That way, they’ll leave us alone. And whatever we’re doing would get a little easier.”
“Would it?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“None of this is easy.” Chenle gulps, wishing he had the filter necessary to make him bite his tongue right now. “What we’re doing isn’t easy. We don’t even know what it is, so why would we try to explain it to other people?”
“Oh.” You drink more, tired gaze turning to the ocean in the distance.
“It’s not a bad thing. I’m just being honest.”
“Yeah, no, honesty is good,” you agree. “You’re right.”
“(Y/N), I—”
“No.” You hold up your hand. “We said the end of the summer, so I get it. I’d rather wait anyway.”
He wants to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, telling you all the things he loves about you and how badly he wants you to be his forever.
“I’m gonna need six more cups of coffee.” You swing your legs off of him, and leave him sitting by himself, caught up in the warm, summer breeze the same way he’s caught up in you.
Day 25 | June 25th
Going out to the bar was the worst idea ever. The more you drank, the more you wanted to be all over Chenle. He didn’t mind it, but the more he drank, the more he wanted to touch you in ways that would have every saint covering their eyes.
You turn to face him, flashing lights reflecting off your skin as you dance with him. His brain is so clouded, so foggy, but he remembers you kissing him. He groaned into your mouth, pulling you closer and doing his best to maintain a rhythm with you. For a moment, he forgets that all of your friends are here too, but he has high hopes they’ll be too drunk to recall.
You pull away, jaw dropped as you remove his grasp on your and quickly stumble toward the exit. He curses under his breath, knowing he can’t let you go alone in a state like this. The world is tilting around him as he follows you, but he refuses to let you out of his sight. The protective urges come forward.
“(Y/N)!” he calls out to you as the two of you make it outside. “Hey! Stop it.”
“Leave me alone, Chenle.” The thickness of your voice has every last bit of alcohol drying up from his system. He jogs to catch up to you, grabbing your wrist and whirling you around to look at him.
Your eyes are bloodshot, tears falling down your cheeks.
“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” he whispers, tugging you to his chest. “God, are you okay?”
“‘M fine,” you reply, but your body shudders in his grasp.
“Come on.” He scoffs. “I didn’t stop being your best friend just because we’re sleeping together.”
You put your palm on your forehead, cursing under your breath. “I just kissed you in there. In front of everyone.”
“Yeah.” Chenle shrugs. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It was supposed to be simple,” you murmur, tugging on your hair with your fingers. “We were supposed to have fun this summer, and everything’s fucking falling apart—”
He recoils. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re gonna leave me.” Your voice breaks, and his heart right along with it.
“Why would you say something like that?”
“It’s all just—” you cut yourself off, clutching Chenle’s shirt. “Too much. I want you so fucking bad all the time.”
“Me too, baby, you know that.” He cups your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, I’ll always be right next to you. Promise, Sunshine.”
His own eyes well at the sight, but he wonders what really brought all of this on. He presses his lips to your forehead, allowing them to linger there a moment too long. Pulling you close, his gaze turns toward the building, where Jaemin and Heewon stand. He gives them the best, watery glare he can, and they quickly shuffle back inside.
It’ll never be him who leaves you. If anyone were going to run away, it will absolutely be you.
And that crushes his heart even further. Beats it to a tiny pulp and straight up purees it until it’s mush.
He takes you home, puts you in bed, and spends half the night out on his patio, leaning on the wooden railing and watching the waves crash into the midnight shore.
The view from here gives him a glimpse of the driveway, and the rest of the group pulls in not even an hour later. He makes eye contact with Jaemin, and while the others head inside, Jaemin approaches him with his hands in his pockets.
“Hey,” Jaemin says softly. “You got a few minutes?”
Chenle looks inside at your sleeping form and gently closes the door with a sigh. “I’ve got nothing but time.”
“Look, man, we all get it.” Jaemin’s feet thud quietly on the creaky stairs as he makes his way up, stopping and leaning his back against the railing as he analyzes Chenle. “We love you guys. A lot. And something weird has been going on, and it’s not like we don’t notice.”
“A lot of weird has been going on,” Chenle says, chuckling to himself. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. It’s just us now.”
The other man purses his lips, taking a deep breath of salty air. “You love her, don’t you?”
“I wish it were as simple as that.” He clasps his hands together, wondering how much he should say.
“It can be,” Jaemin replies. “You think she doesn’t love you?”
“I know she doesn’t,” he insists. “You don’t know her like I do.”
His friend nods, as if he’s conceding with what Chenle’s saying. But he knows better—Jaemin is good at these things. Regardless of whatever happened a few nights back, Jaemin is insightful when it comes to relationships despite not having much experience in that department.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, okay? But I know something is. And I notice (Y/N) talking to Chae a lot, but you never talk to anyone about serious things except for her. It’s okay to be confused and to want to talk about things.”
“She didn’t want anyone to know.” Chenle lets out a defeated sigh, allowing his head to hang between his shoulders.
“To know what?”
“We…” Chenle considers biting his tongue. At the end of the day, he knows he can trust Jaemin, and that he’d never do anything to betray Chenle’s trust, but the words leaving his mouth feel like a betrayal to you. “We’ve been hooking up, I guess.”
“Oh, like…more than once.” Jaemin blinks his shock away.
“Yeah. Like, the whole summer so far.” He runs his hands down his face. “We’d never done anything before, and I honestly didn’t think it would be a possibility. And then we did. And it was fast and not at all what I wanted it to be and just—sorry, Jaem.”
“No, no.” He gestures for him to continue. “Let it out. It’s good for you to process these things.”
“I thought I really fucked up by doing that, you know? She didn’t stay in my room with me that night, she didn’t even talk to me until the next day. Which maybe doesn’t seem bad, but it is for us. But then she said she wanted to do it again, and I…well, I obviously didn’t say no. Maybe I should have.” He picks at his nails, fighting hard with the lump lodged in his throat.
“Honestly, I’m having trouble figuring out why you won’t tell her how you feel.”
“If I tell her and lose her because of it, I genuinely don’t know how I’d live without her. She’s been in my life forever, Jaem. It’s not her fault I can’t keep myself in check,” he says.
“If she doesn’t realize you’re in love with her, she’s really fucking dense.” Jaemin chuckles to himself. “And you’re equally as dense for thinking that she doesn’t love you.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Yes, it is.”
“How?”
“Chenle, you’ve spent every day with her this summer. And I’m not going to pretend to know your business, but I’m sure all the alone time you’ve had hasn’t been innocent. Nobody in their right mind starts sleeping with their best friend without at least a little bit of a worry that they’ll fall in love. Come on, you two are practically dating already anyway.”
“It’s hard, okay?” Chenle brushes the other man off. “We said we’d talk about it at the end of the summer, so I’m gonna save my heart for a few more days.”
“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” Jaemin taps the railing once more before he starts his descent down the stairs. “You won’t get what you want if you’re sitting around and watching it pass you by.”
Day 26 | June 26th
He told himself he would hold off on any more physical stuff before he was able to talk to you about what happened last night, but that was…apparently…short lived. Your chest presses against his, both of you on your sides as he gently massages your ass. You made it a point this morning to grind back against him until he was hard and aching. He’s not entirely sure how he’s avoided exactly this for so long.
He pulls your leg up on his waist, stretching you as he rubs his cock against your folds. You moan into his mouth as your slickness coats him, signaling to him that you’re more than ready to take everything he has to offer.
After a few moments of shifting, his tip enters you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he thrusts the head of his cock in and out. Chills already break out along his body, his palms sweaty as he teases you.
“Please,” you whimper. “I need more.”
“Greedy girl,” he scolds you, slowly pushing all the way in. “Pretty baby just wants to be full, huh?”
“Only you,” you mumble, nearly incoherently as you try to rock your hips. “Only greedy for you.”
Under normal circumstances, he’d care about the sound of the bed squeaking, or the way the headboard taps the wall with each of his thrusts, but all he’s thinking about is fucking good this position allows him to feel you.
After fucking you raw, the condom almost hinders the feeling of you clenching around him, but he tries to focus on giving you as much pleasure as he can.
“C’mon, tell me what you want.” Chenle bucks his hips hard, making you whine.
“Touch me. Wanna cum.” Your head lolls forward, forehead smacking into his chest.
“Touch you where, baby?” He pushes you further. “You’re already soaking my cock, what else could you need?”
“Lele, please—”
“I’ll stop,” he warns you. “Neither of us will finish if you don’t use your words.”
Dazed, you let out a frustrated moan, and he smirks at you.
“M-my clit,” you whisper. “Please touch me there.”
Your arousal squelches around him with each of his thrusts, and you squirm as you yearn for your orgasm that’s just out of reach. He considers teasing you more, but you look so fucking good like this, walls pulsing and begging for release, he can’t deny you.
His hand snakes down your body, and he kisses your jawline. “Don’t cum ‘til I say you can, okay? I’d hate to punish you when you’ve done so well so far.”
“If y—fuck.” You cut yourself off when his finger comes in contact with your swollen, aching bud, and your nails scratch down his back. He knows you won’t be able to hold back if he touches you in the right way.
“You gotta wait for me, baby, I’m almost there.” He thrusts harder, the creak of the bed becoming more prominent as he continues barely rubbing your clit.
“Lele.” You clench your eyes shut. “I c-can’t, oh my God.”
“But you’re so good.” He slams his hips against yours. “So fucking good, just a little longer.”
Your entire body shakes. He didn’t think he’d ever find something like this so arousing, but when you look at him and your eyes are welled with tears from your need, he curses, thrusts one more time, and cums hard into the condom when he’s buried deep inside you.
He can’t remember the last time he came this much, and he wishes he didn’t have this stupid fucking piece of rubber on. The idea of painting your insides white has him thrusting through his overstimulation to bring you to your peak.
He applies more pressure to your clit, pinching it, rubbing it until you bite down on his shoulder hard as your walls and body convulse in his grasp. Cursing at the jolt of pain he feels, he moans when he realizes how it adds to his pleasure.
“Holy shit,” he whispers as you let go of him.
“Asshole.” You laugh, attempting to catch your breath.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, scratching up and down your back. “It felt like you liked it.”
“Yeah, I hope that bite mark scars permanently.”
“Laying claim on me, are you?”
Oh, how he wishes you would.
Day 28 | June 28th
Today is arguably Chenle’s favorite day of the summer. Ironic, since it’s the second to last full day he has with all of his friends, but the tradition set is what makes him think this way.
A bonfire crackles in front of him, his arm over your shoulder as everyone stands around the climbing orange flame. The goal is each person writes all of their regrets down from the past year, and what they hope to accomplish over the next, and then they burn it. It’s an odd positivity ritual that none of them have ever skipped.
Chenle wrote his down the night before after you fell asleep.
Regrets:
I regret not telling (Y/N) I love her. Again.
I regret not seizing every opportunity that presents itself to me.
I regret wasting my life away while everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of my eyes.
I regret shutting down and allowing my friends to help me.
I regret not advancing in my chosen career path.
Hopes:
I hope I will be able to express myself thoroughly.
I hope I will be able to tell (Y/N) my feelings.
I hope those feelings will be reciprocated.
I hope, above all, that she’s happy.
He glances around, taking a look at everyone around him. Jaemin, Jeno, Heewon, Donghyuck, Mark, Chaeyoung, and even you. Each person has had such a fundamental hand in the making of the person he is today, and a lot of times, he takes that for granted.
“Okay, who wants to go first?” Mark asks.
“I will,” you say, stepping up.
Chenle watches you with adoration, wishing he could move forward with you, but knowing there are some times where you have to shine on your own.
“Another year.” You clear your throat. “All of you mean the world to me. You helped me when I was twelve and in desperate need of a confidence boost, and you help me now at twenty-three when sometimes all I need is a drink and a cookie.”
A chorus of laughter falls from everyone.
“Mark, thank you for all of the midday pep-talks and reality checks. Jeno, thank you for being the comedic relief right when I always need it. Jaemin, thank you for always knowing what to say, no matter the situation. Chae, thank you for saving me from myself more times than I can count. Hyuck, thank you for knowing exactly when I want ice cream and a rant session. Heewon, thank you for never judging me despite my shit decisions.”
You turn back to Chenle, the gleam in your eye reflecting the billions of stars from the sky above.
“Chenle, thank you for never underestimating me and for knowing me better than I know myself. For all of the years we’ve had, and all the ones we will have.”
“You’ve got all of mine,” Chenle says to you.
With a final grin, you take your folded up piece of paper out of your pocket and toss it into the fire, and everyone watches as it burns to ash. Once you’re satisfied, you move back to Chenle and hug him tightly.
He deflates in your grasp, cradling the back of your head and relishing in the weight of your words.
Mark goes next, then Hyuck, Chae, Heewon, Jaemin, and Jeno, leaving Chenle to be the last one. He purses his lips, twirling his own note in his fingers as he glances over his shoulder at you.
It takes him a while to think of what he wants to say despite the fact he’s been looking forward to this since the vacation started. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the smokiness of the air mixed with ocean salt, and really, truly thinks of how he’s made it as far as he has.
“Well, guys, another year down.” He shakes his head as he thinks of how fast time passes. “Life wouldn’t be the same without you guys. We get busy throughout the year, but I’m really happy we get to spend this time here and that we’re able to be together this entire month. Everyone has their unique roles in this friend group, and it’d be incredibly off if any one of us weren’t here. So, my thank you is for all of you, for being there for me and making this little bunch into a family. ‘Cause that’s what you guys are. You’re my family.”
He glances back at you much like you had done to him, and he’s met with your dazzling smile. His nerves calm at the sight, and he chews the inside of his cheek as he tosses his paper into the flame.
It’s like he physically feels the hurt, regret, and carelessness from the past year lift off his shoulders, intertwine with the smoke, and disappear. He feels lighter, like he can take on the world. And in this moment, when he sees you staring at him with such adoration, he knows that now is the moment.
No time will ever be the right time, and he’ll never have courage if he doesn’t push himself.
He walks back to you, hands in his pockets. “(Y/N), can I talk to you over there for a minute?”
You nod, and as he guides you a safe distance away, he meets Jaemin’s gaze. The grin of approval is all he needs, and the other man makes sure the friend group is paying attention to him instead of you and Chenle.
“What’s up?” you ask, tilting your head. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.” He pauses and reaches over to grab your hand. “I just…One of my regrets last year was not having courage, and not being able to ask for the things I want because I wasn’t…ready for them, I guess.”
You nod, urging him to continue.
“You’re my best friend. All of this stuff we’ve been through this summer, I need you to know that’ll never change no matter what. If I didn’t have you in my life, I think I’d be screwed.” He chuckles, the nerves gnawing away at his throat and making his voice shake. “This has been the best month of my life, honestly, but I shouldn’t have gone into something like this without being completely transparent.”
To that, you frown, but wait for him to continue.
He takes a moment to work up the strength to tell you, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His hands shake, and he feels faint, but he knows it’s now or never. He can’t let you leave this place for another year without knowing the truth.
“I…I’m in love with you. And I have been for so long, but I didn’t want to ruin this. When all of this started, I wanted to tell you no because I thought I’d end up getting hurt because of it all. And maybe I still will, but at least now you’ll know the truth.”
He’s not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t you starting to laugh. His gaze darts back up to yours, and your head is in your hands.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “If that’s not what you wanted, we can still be—”
“Zhong Chenle, you are far too dense for your own good.” You beam at him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss.
He’s in shock at first, but after a second, he’s pulling you as close to him as possible. You swallow his sigh of relief, and when he moves back, he sees the tear streaks down your face.
“Hey, none of that,” he whispers, wiping them away.
“I love you, Chenle,” you tell him. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so fucking long—”
You cut yourself off by connecting your lips to his again, giggles interrupting you every so often.
The rest of the group cheers and yells by the fire, clearly not one of them surprised by this outcome. He leads you back to them, fingers interlocked tightly and a permanent smile etched on his face.
For the rest of the night, he doesn’t let you go. He holds you close, kisses you all over your face, and squeezes you.
He loves you.
He’s in love with you, and you’re not going anywhere.
If this is the cruelest summer he ever has to endure, he’s more than ready for the rest of them.
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 7 months
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Kisaki Tetta - "Brother Knows Best"
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
In which a little Kisaki Tetta comes home to tell his big brother about his newest crush. Or; In which Kisaki [Name] unknowingly prevents a long series of tragic events of the future by being an asshole to his younger brother.
Reader is really cruel to kisaki but means it in a teasing older brother way. Reader is brutally honest to the point that he invalidates Kisaki's feelings for Hina, laughs at him and ends up making Kisaki cry.
                                                                                                   
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🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹
"[Name]! [Name]!"
Shouted a little Tetta as his tiny legs carry him from the front door and into the living room.
[Name], who was sprawled lazily across the sofa, only glanced at the six year old briefly before turning his attention back to the t.v. in front of him. Light from the screen rapidly flashing on his face as a colorful toy commercial played. The feeling of his little brother's annoyed gaze not even phasing him as he ignored the boy.
"Grr... [NAME]!"
Tetta shouted as he roughly shook the h/c-ette's arm, trying to get the older's attention.
[Name] growls under his breath as he turns and glares at the little bespectacled boy. Lightly grabbing his shoulder as he shoves him backwards a little, making him stumble and fall on his bottom.
"God you're annoying..... Whaddya want?"
The h/c-ette grumbled as he leans his head on the palm of his hand.
Tetta huffed as he stood up off the floor and waddles over to the sofa, shoving the older's legs to the side and dramatically plopping onto the seat cushion.
"I wanted to ask you..... How— How do you tell a girl you like her?"
The bespectacled boy mutters timidly as he fiddles with his chubby fingers; already anticipating the teasing he's about to endure.
[Name] raised a brow at his brother's words; an amused smirk crawling its way across his lips as he holds back a snort. His annoying dweeb of a little brother has a crush on someone? The kid that whined about how annoying it was whenever [Name] brought his boyfriend over? The kid who swore up and down that he'd never be in a relationship because he'd rather be smart than in love? Oh, this is comedy gold.
"Pfft— You? Since when? What's so cool about this girl for you of all people to like her?"
The h/c-ette jeered; purposefully sitting up to make sure the younger has full view of his mean look.
Tetta groans quietly, already regretting his decision. But what other choice does he have? There's no one else the boy trusted more than his older with such a question.
".....She's... She's really nice to me...."
The small boy mumbles as he pushes his sliding glasses back into place.
"Pffffft— HAHAHAHAHA! That's it! That's hilarious!"
[Name] doubles over, cackling as he tries to hold himself up with the armrest, tears streaming from his eyes.
"Hehehehehe...hehehe... haaah... that was a laugh. Okay, Look brat, you're like... what? Five years old? You're practically still a fetus. You can't even do long division yet; you have no idea what love is."
He crosses his arms and shakes his head.
"If all this girl did was the bare minimum of being kind to you and you're 'falling in love', all of your relationships in the future are gonna be short, loveless and pathetic."
[Name] finishes, giving his little brother an unimpressed and somewhat disgusted look.
However the h/c-ette's eyes softened as he saw tears gathering and spilling over from behind Tetta's fogged glasses. His little body shaking with each silent sob; refusing to make a sound lest he be berated for that too. [Name] let out a sigh before wrapping his arms around the crying boy and pulling him into his lap. He hugged him tight; ignoring the younger's fruitless attempts to push him away.
The older hums quietly as he strokes his brother's head. Running his fingers through Tetta's short hair.
"I know..... I know... I'm so mean to you aren't I Tetta. I'm being an awful big brother to you, huh."
[Name] mumbles quietly as removes the younger's glasses and whipes away the tears from his pretty blue eyes.
"It's just tough love, m'kay? I love you so much, Tetta. I'm only trying to prepare you for the future. I don't want your heart to be broken when you can hardly understand how you feel yet."
Tetta looks up at [Name] with teary eyes as he sniffles; trying to wipe them away and only causing more to fall.
"I love... *sniffle* I love you too. Can we eat something? I'm hungry."
He mumbles, drying his tears with [Name]'s shirt as his stomach gurgles loudly.
"Alright, I'll order takeout."
The h/c-ette chuckles softly as he ruffles Tetta's hair.
🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹•♡•🐹
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
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cerise-on-top · 2 months
Note
hi! how would Valeria and Kate react if their wife’s got hurt because of their work, both of them working highly jobs and it ended up catching up to their s/o. hoe you are doing well and drink plenty of water! thank you!
-🍒
Hello! Both of them would be absolutely distraught, but would go about it in different ways!
Valeria’s and Laswell’s Wife Gets Hurt Because of their Job
Valeria: Whoever hurt you will wind up tortured and eventually, once she thinks they’ve had enough of their miserable life, will wind up dead. Naturally, the first thing she does is check up on you, see if you’re alright and well, that’s her priority. You’re the love of her life, there’s no one else in this world she wants to see do well. You’ll be admitted to the best hospital nearby and will only get the finest treatment. Once you’re stabilized, that’s when the hunt begins. Whoever hurt you won’t get too far since that bastard’s life will be on the line. Regardless of where they might be hiding, Valeria will find them and show them that death is actually a kind of mercy. She has pretty much everything at her disposal, everything money can buy, this sucker won’t know what hit them. If it’s revenge they want, then revenge they’ll get. Valeria promises you that their head will be on a silver plate. She’s not very good with words when it comes to comforting someone, but she will have that person killed in the most cruel ways she can imagine. In fact, she’ll take the pleasure of torturing them upon herself. Once she’s done, she’ll take some days off, which is surprising since she usually can’t afford that at all. You’ll be under her direct care for those days. Anything you want you’ll get. Afterwards there will be a slight shift in her demeanor, Valeria becomes more protective over you. Sometimes she might even assign some trusted people of hers to watch over you since she can’t afford something like that happening again. While she can’t always take some days off, she’ll try to be closer to you anyway. Always texting you, finding excuses to come home for a day maybe. She just really needs to make sure you’re okay, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you died.
Laswell: Laswell will try to be a bit more diplomatic about it at first, trying to coax whoever hurt you out of hiding. This person will be held accountable for their crimes against her world. Naturally, she rescues you first, gets you to the nearest hospital and won’t leave your side until you’re stable again. If it takes you a while to wake up again, she’ll leave to find the fucker and make sure they swim with the fishes. She has a pretty large, efficient network and will find out who it was fairly easily. Once she knows who they are, she won’t hesitate to find out all their past crimes as well, if they hurt you then they must have done some other awful things as well. Once that phase is over, she’ll go to their home herself and have them arrested, put in the worst prison imaginable where the inmates are treated especially badly. She won’t kill them, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they wind up dead anyway. Laswell usually isn’t an evil person, but she does hope that person dies during their time. Their sentence will be as long as possible so there’s no chance of them ever seeing the sunlight again either. Once all of this is over, she, too, would take some days off to spend with you. You’re a priority above all else, so Laswell will want to be there for you, no matter the cost. While she usually isn’t, depending on how severely you got hurt she might become a bit overbearing, a bit overprotective. That overprotectiveness will last for a few months, afterwards she’ll try to give you some space again. However, she’ll always be keeping a closer eye on you, always texting or calling you every once in a while to make sure you’re okay. If she needs to, she’ll put you under her protection officially, but the situation needs to be dire for that to happen. Either way, she’ll be keeping you safe.
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silvery-orchid · 9 months
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my vices are slow and steady.
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neuvillete let you make your choice once. and now you are standing in front of him again after your divorce. you should be glad his patience takes on a special shape when with you.
possessive! neuvillete x gn! reader. (a small gift to thank the neuvillette lovers from my inbox.)
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his office rings with an all familiar sound. it is two o'clock in the afternoon. four years ago when he bought this clock, you said you hated the sound it made.
'for such an extravagant clock, it doesn't sound cute at all.' neuvillette did not understand what you meant until two years later. the chimes of this clock sounded like the bells that were in your wedding. and he had to agree with you that it was a horrible sound.
neuvillette always thought that patience was one of his virtues but while he was sitting there (in the middle of the row because sitting up front would have been dangerous), he finally realized that it was a vice when applied to you.
he was too patient; too lenient some would say. he held you in such a high light that when you started dating the foolish man, he thought it was a simple phase. extending you his grace and waiting for you to come to your senses seemed like the best option. and sometimes he considers the rest a blur. while he was busy dealing with fontaine's court and the underground rebellion, that foolish man worth less than the dust on his shelves slipped a ring on your finger.
neuvillete voiced with resounding reason to try and get you to reconsider. he was your dear friend after all. tough love has never been a stranger to your conversations with him. because of it, he felt no issue saying that you should break it off.
'i asked you for your opinion about my happiness, but it seems you consider me incapable of choosing.' were your exact words. thinking of it now, you said them to him while this same clock was chiming away. he remembers the way you walked out and the wedding invite he got only a few days later. you attached a small note next to it. - i asked you once and you said what you had to say. allow me to prove that this is not a mistake. -
he still has that same note in his desk on the very bottom. he threw out the invite as soon as your wedding was over but would showing you the note now be far too cruel?
neuvillette did not consider his patience to be a waste however. deciding that he was too patient only made him realize he had to continue with it a bit more until you came around.
oh, and after only 2 years of a shaky marriage, he can hear your footsteps on the tiles in front of his office hallway.
truly, your choice was utterly idiotic. it was bound to fail. marrying a simple toy maker? really? you needed someone far better than that. and now you were coming back to him. he knows those footsteps belong to you. the click-clack of your shoes is unmistakable to his heart. the slower third step you take makes his chest heave. he reminds himself that this is relief and that anger existed when your steps were echoing on the way to the isle.
he decides not to show you the note; he decides not to be angry. as long as you are walking in his direction, he can find it in himself to forgive your foolishness. but he can feel his patience has hit a limit as your hand turn the doorknob.
he has waited long enough for you too be back here; long enough until your dumb decision expired. would he speak first or would you? he did visit you a few times after you got married but he hadn't seen you for half a year now. he takes a deep breath as you take the first step inside the room of chessboard tiles. he refuses to take any other role in your life from now on. no rooks or bishops or knights - he will be your king. and he is afraid this is the one decision you cannot make because he knows better.
he straightens up, makes sure it seems like he is writing his signature down. only you are allowed to enter his office without knocking but why should you know that? you have no right to know all of the exceptions he gives you.
'i see you still have that ugly clock in here.' typical, of course you would lead with that. it causes his face to relax as a small smile shows. 'if i said it reminds me of you, would you hold it against me'
you are halfway through his office. you halt on the white tile. your arms are halfway outstretched. they make it clear you had the intention of embracing him. when they fall back down as you stop, he has to keep it in himself not to tsk. instead, he puts down the pen and gets up.
'would i hold it against you that you said i remind you of an ugly clock?'
neuvillette is already in front of you, he makes sure to take up all your visual space. he stands on the black tile as he continues what you failed to do. he puts one hand on your back, holds your waist with the other as he brings you in for a hug. he can feel his line of patience start to diminish once your bodies are so close to one another. he was right to wait, from now on he will ensure you two become even closer.
your body warmth and your scent should all belong to him. he breaks the embrace once he realizes the ugly truth he hated to imagine; you were even closer with another man. neuvillette can feel copper in his throat at the images that flood his mind. for a second while moving away, his gloved fingers hold onto your hip with some roughness but it is immediately gone once he takes a deep breath.
it isn't anything that cannot be fixed.
'how could i hold it against you when you were the reason i managed to get those divorce papers and hearings approved so fast?'
you truly have no idea how lucky you are to have him. wait, no; you had no idea how lucky you were to have him. but now you do and he will make sure to use it to his advantage.
'i am glad you sent me a letter asking for my help when you did. it is unfortunate that our laws and procedures change so fast that even those like you, who abandoned our service, have trouble navigating them.'
lying comes easy to him now. it was an oh so fortunate thing that brought you right back here. he can see his words sting and make your shoulders tense up but you have to be reminded of your mistake. he said he was patient, he never said he wouldn't hold it against you with remarks like these.
until you live, neuvillette will keep reminding you of your failure; of the idiotic man you choose and how you went against his advice.
you bite your lower lip for a second. it is on the left side. the left corner means you want to ask a question. the right corner means you are hesitating with a remark. of course he knows your patterns.
'neu...did you perhaps know what would happen? and that is why you were against me marrying him?'
he has to hold back his laughter deep inside. you look so cute asking him a question like that. it doesn't really matter what he knew about that man. all that matters is that he knew no other man would be good for you. his vices always had a way of slowly growing. there is no need for you to know the lengths he went to to keep his patience up. take the new legislation he introduced to ensure only certain toy makers would be kept afloat. or, take that bar worker that your ex-husband cheated on you with. he spent 5 hours choosing the perfect candidate based on the stack of papers with the name and image of foolish choice.
'have i ever had anything besides your best interests in my mind? come, we shouldn't be late to the magic show. lynette and lyney have improved drastically since the last time you saw them.'
perhaps it is another vice of his. but he refuses to have you come back to him only to speak of another. there is a time and a place for everything and neuvillette is patient enough to wait for the right moments to use your weaknesses against you.
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goldtippedfeathers · 2 months
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‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ Establishing a sleep schedule‎ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ 
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hello my little feathers <3 
i thought that was a cute nickname lmao but bear with me. i’m going through a phase. regardless, someone has got to teach y’all how to sleep since we all know your sleep routine is so whack, the morning birds are your lullabies. i get it— you’re convinced your circadian rhythm is non-existent. i did too. then i visited an OT who gave me a wake up call. in reality, it is very uncommon to have a genuine disorder regarding your circadian rhythm. which means all your nocturnal habits? those are all you, bbgirl. you can choose to be embarrassed about it and accept your life as an owl, or you can finally get some beauty sleep and address those eye bags. 
here are the tips that helped me personally go from sleeping late at night/early in the morning and only getting 3 hours of sleep a night to now consistently getting 8 hours of sleep a night. 
𓆰𓆩♡𓆪𓆰 pick a wake up time 𓆰𓆩♡𓆪𓆰 
this is the most important part of this advice column. seriously. you could stop reading after this. 
setting a wake time doesn’t mean, “oh, ideally, i’d like to wake up at this time, but when my alarm goes off, i’ll snooze for a couple more minutes because ugh, baby steps amrite?”
no.
it means once that alarm goes off, you are UP. whether you have to drag yourself, roll yourself, or cry yourself out of bed, GET. OUT. OF. BED. 
you cannot compromise with this wake up time, even if the night before, you stayed up until 5 am. If you set your wake up time to 6 am, you better learn to function with 1 hour of sleep because these are the consequences of your actions. 
while it may seem counterintuitive to sabotage your sleep schedule by denying yourself those extra minutes or hours to catch up, sleep deprivation is the most common tactic used to reset and stabilize a person’s disorder sleeping patterns. the entire rationale behind this is to push your body to a point of desperation (lol it sounded so much less cruel when my OT said it) so it’ll want to sleep earlier. you’re trying to tire yourself out so the moment you’re allowed to sleep (we’ll get to that in a second), paired with the rest of the tips in this list, you’re knocking out immediately. 
so find a time that you ideally want to naturally wake up at. for me, it’s 7:30 am since i work a 9-5, but you could go earlier or later than this. whatever works for you. just be prepared to commit to it because you have to commit to it. 
𓆰𓆩♡𓆪𓆰 making your environment a ‘sleep-only’ zone 𓆰𓆩♡𓆪𓆰 
this is a shoutout to all the girlies who live out of their bed. stop that. 
yes, it is comfy. yes, it is nice to snuggle there and read a book, or scroll on your phone, or watch netflix, or do your homework, or whatever other jazz you’re getting up to. but there are two purposes for your bed: sleep and s3x. if you’re not doing either, you’re not allowed in there. 
i like to think of my room as different zones. my desk is my work-zone. the open space i have where my weights are is my stretching/workout zone. my closet is my dressing-zone. and i use other parts of the house as my eating-zones, my reading-zones, my hygiene-zones, etc. 
my bed is my sleeping zone. which means that place is sacred and only meant for sleeping. no outside clothes on the bed. no lounging on the bed. not even to flop down when i’m exhausted from a long day at work or workout. if i am that tired, i can stretch, or i can find a couch. or, i can undress myself from my outside clothes into my nightwear and sleep. but the bed is for sleeping. that’s it.
this tip actually helped me beyond sleep, because establishing these zones skyrocketed my productivity. it essentially helped my brain zero in on the task i intended to complete without distractions, because why else would i be at my desk if not to write or do work? my desk isn’t for eating. my bed especially isn’t. so food isn’t in my room, and therefore the only logical thing to do in that zone is what it is meant for. 
your mindset is equally as important as your environment. pairing these two together is what will help you at the end of the night, when you’re ready for bed, to hit the hay the moment your head touches that pillow. because your brain has already been preparing for sleep. it knew the moment you started getting ready for bed. 
𓆰𓆩♡𓆪𓆰 night routines 𓆰𓆩♡𓆪𓆰 
this is your time to be in your aesthetic, vanilla girl era. read a couple of pages of your book, drink an herbal (uncaffeinated) tea (except beware if you have a small bladder like me to not do this lmao), wash your face, comb your hair, get into your nighties, wrap your hair in whatever protective style you like, and then get under your covers for a night of restfulness. your routine is you time. no thoughts about tomorrow. no to-do lists. no last minute tasks. its your time to unwind. if you need a candle to do it, if washing your face isn’t enough and you need a shower— however your routine looks, cater it to whatever will help you feel relaxes and mellow by the end of it, so you are head empty by the time those covers are over your body. 
𓆰𓆩♡𓆪𓆰 helpful tools 𓆰𓆩♡𓆪𓆰 
here’s a list of things that may or may not help you with your sleeping journey!
weighted blanket: helps your nervous system enter into a state of rest (parasympathetic nervous system activation). known as pressure therapy, and typically used to help alleviate symptoms of anxiety (increased heart rate, muscle tension, racing thoughts, etc)
heated blanket: for people who get cold easily— as opposed to layering up in constrictive layers, this is a nice way to snuggle and feel warm
silk eye mask: helps block out light. similarly, you can also get a complete black-out eye mask
silk bonnet: especially for the curly hair girlies out there— you guys already know. its such a protective way to keep your hair out of your face at night and nourish it while you rest. 10/10 recommend 
blackout curtains: helps block out outdoor light 
sunrise lamp: for gloomy days, in order to support a healthy circadian rhythm, exposure to sunlight helps regulate the body’s fluctuation of melatonin, making it easier to wake up. essentially, dark = more melatonin (which is why winters feel sleepier because of the shorter days), and light = less melatonin production 
okay, that’s it! sleep well, little feathers <3 
179 notes · View notes
vinvantae · 6 months
Text
Unmasked
15/16
<<< previous part
Word count : 5.2k
Warning: poorly translated French (English translation at the end)
A/N : I feel terrible about how long it’s taken me to write this, the inspiration just hasn’t been with me for a little while. I hope you enjoy it regardless ❤️
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SC - With the weight of the world seemingly off her shoulders, y/n absolutely flew around the track today. It feels like for the first time in a while, we’re seeing Thirty in her element once again.
Even with two rampaging Bulls chasing her down, it’s the Prancing Horse who takes the chequered flag. Y/N Y/L/N wins the Spanish Grand Prix!
MB - Despite all of the noise this weekend, it’s races like this one that define y/n as one of the best drivers of this generation. From the flawless start, to defending from the tremendous speed of the two Redbulls when it mattered most - that was a wonderful race to watch.
SC - I’m sure Ferrari were hoping for a 1-2 finish today, but after Charles' engine issues forced him to retire, I think they’ll be happy to get the most possible points with y/n’s fastest lap too. Look at that celebration, if there’s one thing about Thirty, every win is just as exciting as the last.
The feeling you got when you won never was any less triumphant, no matter how many you had tucked under your belt. But after how long the weekend had felt, this one felt particularly special. You climbed atop your car and pumped your fists above your head - practically giddy with glee as the crowd cheered for you, the underlying boos barely phasing you. They just didn’t matter - their opinions didn’t matter.
Your eyes zeroed in on a small group of girls who were in the grandstands, dressed head to toe in red - waving a banner for you above their head. Their celebrations seemed louder than anyone else's so you made sure to wave, putting the biggest smile on their faces before you hopped over to the car.
You laughed as the team swept you up in a tight hug when you ran over to the barrier, patting you on the helmet - the noise vibrated through you, making your heart soar. If there was a group of people you knew you could rely on, it was your team; even after your reveal, they were never any less supportive of you, always there for you no matter what the result was and treating you as they always had. It was one of the reasons why none of the contracts you offered tempted you, Ferrari are your family, you belong in red.
After swapping your helmet for your team cap, both Redbull drivers approached - Max giving you an overly enthusiastic bro hug, slapping your back so hard it almost hurt but you couldn’t help but laugh. “Amazing job, y/n. Almost got you.”
“Well, thankfully you and the smooth operator were too busy having a family squabble for that.” You teased, pulling back to let Carlos hug you as well, the Spaniard’s strong arms looped around your middle. “Now, if you boys don’t mind me - I have a winner’s interview to do.”
“Good job, y/n. Really happy for you.” Carlos made sure to get his praises in before you head across parc ferme. “See you soon.”
“Congratulations, y/n, what a result!” Naomi looked almost as excited as you as you approached for your post race interview. “How are you feeling right now?”
Your face was already hurting from how much you were smiling, you placed a hand on top of your cap and laughed. “I’m over the moon, this win felt so good.”
“After all you’ve had to deal with since your reveal, this is definitely wonderful to see.” She praised. “You raced spectacularly, anything you’d like to say to the people out there who still doubt you?”
“Honestly? After everything the guys, Max, Pierre, Esteban and Charles especially, put on the line for me, none of it really matters anymore. I have confidence in my skills and talent in this sport and knowing that my rivals believe in me too means everything… I won’t pretend that reading cruel things online will magically stop hurting, but I know what I’m capable of. I’m a world champion for a reason and there’s nothing anyone can say that will take that away from me.”
“Is this the start of your triumphant return, are we going to see you up on the top step now you’ve got your confidence back?”
“I’m ready for whatever the rest of the season throws at me. The championship is still all to play for right now, so I’m going to put my best foot forward and focus on racing.”
“Thank you so much, y/n. Congratulations. Your race winner, everybody!”
You waved at the crowd as you stepped inside to head to the cool-down room, your heart racing. Max and Carlos both greeted you with large smiles as you stepped into the room, the Spaniard playfully swatting at the brim of your cap to knock it from your head - swapping it for the 1st place Pirelli cap. “Much better, hermosa.”
“Thank you, however…” You knelt down to pick up your Ferrari hat, dusting it off before placing it on the table, a teasing lilt to your voice as you spoke. “Don’t disrespect! You can be proud of me for winning without being rude about my team, Carlos. I won’t ever let you forget you were almost one of us.”
“Idiot.” Max mumbled playfully, a strong arm draping across your shoulder - his eyes crinkled up as he smiled. “Congrats again on the win, y/n. You raced like a proper champ.”
“It felt good. Like of course winning is always good but this one felt different. Perhaps it was the timing of it, but there’s something about winning while feeling confident in myself again that makes me hungry for more.” You smiled softly. “To be honest, it felt more like the two of you were pushing me along than racing me… I’d thank you for taking it easy on me but there’s no way that that’s true.”
“You know I’d never do that. It was all you.” The Dutchman scoffed. “How dare you remember how good you are at racing, how am I supposed to beat you now.”
The way you grinned at him, gave Max flashbacks to your karting days together - your genuine joy when you beat him or all of the other boys in races. He could picture the small girl with her hair all messy from her helmet, sticking her tongue out at him when he whined to his Dad that a girl beat him. It’s not fair, she pushed me! When in reality you were just talented from day one. The way anyone could ever doubt you were Thirty bewildered him because you were you. Driven. Passionate.
It was why he never had any issue sharing the podium with you - your wins felt truly earned. Sure every driver had a win or two that they got under unusual circumstances but when the two of you were on those steps together, he could see how much you enjoyed it, no matter which number win it was and finally being able to see your smile made it all the better.
As you lifted your trophy above your head, you scanned the crowd for Charles - who, despite his DNF, was now standing in the front row, smiling up at you with pride. He threw you a cheesy wink as he clapped, not letting his own race ruin this for you. Despite not being your first win of the season, it was your first time on the top step so you relished every second of it - drowning both Redbull drivers in champagne before chugging some of the sparkling liquid. Max made sure he poured his drink down the back of your race suit, something he insisted he missed out having to share with your body double after the last win when you scolded him for it.
You felt on top of the world, all of your criticisms temporarily forgotten when that evening, all you could hear was the clinking of glasses against your own - the girls’ lips all sparkled with champagne as they toasted your victory. As much as you loved the guys, being celebrated by other women made your win all the more special. Lily looped an arm around your middle and pulled you close as Carmen snapped a photo - their laughter twinkling through the air. They gushed on how amazingly you raced, teasing you as your cheeks flushed.
All of this however, didn’t stop Charles watching you from across the bar - your red race suit traded for a gorgeous dress of the same colour, your eyes sparkling under the lights. The confidence you were radiating was intoxicating; he wanted to blame it on the beer he was drinking but there was nothing more he wanted than to have his hands all over you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, everything about you was magnetic. He wanted to steal you from the girls, but he knew you needed this. Even when Max slapped him on the shoulder, he struggled to tear his eyes away.
“She’s not going to vanish if you stop looking at her, mate.” The dutchman teased, Charles finally turned away from you. “Let her celebrate, she knows where you are when she’s ready.”
“Something about her is just…different. Lighter.”
Max smiled softly, secretly fond of how Charles was with you. “She just won a race!”
“No, no. It’s more than that.” The other driver insisted. “But I just can’t put my finger on it… and if you’ll excuse me, I can’t just watch from a distance. She’s too beautiful.”
“Gross.”
He shoved Max lightly on the arm before crossing the bar to get to you, weaving between the flashes of red of those who were still in their team kit. Charles watched Lily give you a look before you cast your eyes over your shoulder - your face cracking into a grin. Your teammate felt grateful you were as pleased to see him as he was you. “Charles.”
“Mon amour.” He hummed, draping an arm around your waist - pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Sorry, I couldn’t stay away from you any longer. Having fun?”
“So much. I’m glad you’re here actually, we were just talking about you.” You lent into his touch.
“Oh yeah?”
Lily’s brow raised playfully. “You’ve got a big battle coming, il Predestinato. Now that our girl’s back, you ready to step it up?”
“I don’t think she ever left.” You looked at him as he spoke, his green eyes already fixed on you. “Just needed a little reminder of who she is.”
You smiled softly at him before leaning in to kiss him - his hand coming up to rest on your jaw. “I’ll never forget again thanks to you, and who knows, there’s still 16 races to go… anything could happen.”
“Joint world champions.” He teased, “That ever happened before?”
“Don’t think so.” Your laughter was soft, Charles had practically forgotten the presence of the girls watching you both with a fondness in their eyes. “But if anyone could do it, it would be us.”
“Cheers to that and cheers to you, y/n. I love you.”
You clinked your glass against his. “I love you too.”
***
Yourusername added to their instagram story
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***
After your race win in Imola and poor strategy in Monaco from your team - ruining Charles’ chance at a win at his home grandprix, it didn’t take long for you to catch up to your teammate in the points and by the time the chequered flag was waved in Azerbaijan, you were the championship leader and it felt good. You could tell the strategy calls were starting to affect your boyfriend but whenever you brought it up, he told you it was all fine and that he was nothing but happy for you and selfishly, you believed him. You wanted him to feel as excited as you did, and it was the first time in a long time you were feeling good about your career.
Instead, you focused on racing with the same confidence you always knew you had before your reveal and with the people around you always making sure you had a smile on your face - the last few straggling cynics barely made a noise over the roaring crowds every time you lifted a trophy above your head.
Part of you thought maybe you had just become more attentive now you were free to be yourself, but every race that passed seemed to have more and more female fans eager to greet you at the barricades, ecstatic that you were leading the championship even if there was only 7 points in it.
“You’ve got this in the bag, y/n!” They always told you Canadian’s were nice, and it was shown with the way your new poor assistant’s arms were piled high with gifts as fans chatted away with you. You were never allowed to talk to them before as Thirty, so meeting them really was a delight. “Those boys don’t stand a chance.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Charles is pretty good.” You smiled softly. “But, I’ll tell you what… I’m gonna do my absolute best for you.”
“You’re already the champion in my eyes, regardless of how the season ends.”
“Oh stop, you’re gonna make me cry.” You laughed softly, giving the girl a one armed hug. “I have to go now, thank you all though - for the support, the gifts. I’ll try and win for you today, promise.”
You helped to take some of the gifts from your assistant before heading towards the motorhome, saying hi to the other drivers as you passed by - after the protest, they had much more an effort to include you in idle chit-chat or debates they were having with another driver. Whether it was Esteban trying to get you to convince Mick and Lance that his long standing feud with Max was definitely over or Kevin showing you photos of his kid, it was nice. It was truly all you had ever wanted from your reveal - not just to be a driver, but to feel like one too.
Charles tucked you under his arm before the driver parade started, bickering with Pierre in French about god knows what but the glint in their eyes and the cheeky smile on Charles’ face assured you it was all in good fun. You simply rested your head against your boyfriend, eyes closed as you enjoyed the surprisingly warm weather as you waited for the flatbed to start moving.
“Mon amour, are you falling asleep standing upright?” He teased, squeezing you into his side.
“Mhmm, you’re so comfy, Charles.” You hummed softly, standing up straighter as the engine began to rumble - wanting to wave to the crowds instead of being caught dozing. “Besides, I’ve got to be well rested before I win the race later.”
“Leading the championship and suddenly your ego is massive.” Pierre teased, kicking you lightly in the shin - making you whine and glare at him. “I’m kidding. You deserve to be cocky, you have been very impressive recently.”
You raised a brow. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Gasly.”
“Uh oh, Pierre, you’ve made an enemy of Thirty. You better there’s no chance of the two of you tangling during the race.”
You practically snorted out a laugh. “Oh Charles, he won’t need to worry… unless, maybe I end up lapping him.”
“Oh it is on.”
It was your turn to bicker with Pierre, your boyfriend slipping away to talk to some of the others as the flatbed pulled back in to drop you all off at the pits. You felt in such high spirits when you got in the car that there was just nothing that could stop you - you were sure of it. You were going to get your 3rd title and Ferrari their first WCC since 2018. it felt like you owed them at least that much after keeping you on.
And oh, did you love this track. With its tight barriers hugging the track and long straights, the high speed was risky but made the race all the more exciting. That paired with the two Redbull’s sniffing at your car’s rear end and your teammate starting at the back of the grid, it was bound to be an exciting race.
Max put up a hell of a fight, chasing you down and barely giving you even a second to breathe - he nearly caught you on more than one occasion, but not pitting during the late safety car was his fatal mistake - his pebbled tires were no match for your shiny new softs. And before long you were lifting your second consecutive first place trophy above your head, Max and Lewis alongside you.
You felt untouchable, blowing a kiss in the direction of a small crowd of Redbull fans who had booed you louder than the rest as you’d been handed your trophy before giving their golden boy a good hosing down with your champagne, the two men who you shared the podium with upended the bottles over your head in a bubbling waterfall- a giddy smile on both of your faces as you celebrated.
“Hey congrats.” Lewis grinned, patting you on the shoulder as the three of you stood on the podium for the photo together. “Winning looks better on you every time.”
“Thanks Lewis, means a lot. Especially from you.”
The three of you stepped off the podium for your post race interviews, and you just couldn’t shake the electricity running through you. Not a single interview passed without them commenting on just how different you seemed - how over the course of the past few races, the personality they had loved beneath the helmet seemed to have finally come to the surface. “It’s so nice to see how much you’re enjoying racing again, y/n.”
“Yeah, it’s been really really good.” You smiled, your hands resting against the cool metal barricade in front of you. “Sure, I still see and hear some nasty stuff but it… it just doesn’t feel the same, it doesn’t hurt as bad knowing that I have nothing to prove to them. They’ll never like me, and that’s okay. I have plenty of supporters and friends who love me and back me up no matter what.”
“Well, it’s good to have you back. Hope you enjoy your weekend off, see you at Silverstone.”
You thanked the press before heading back to the Ferrari motorhome, letting out a yelp as you were practically tackled by your boyfriend as he swept you up in his arms. “There’s my race winner.”
“Oh who cares about my race win when you made it up from 19th to 5th!” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him - the warmth from his body made you feel at ease. “That’s far more impressive. You very much deserved the driver of the day, I’m glad your hard work was recognised.”
“Well...” He carefully placed you on the floor, placing his hands on your hips. “How about we take our weekend off to celebrate your phenomenal race and my win, hmm?”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. He smiled against your lips and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss like you weren’t surrounded by the hustle and bustle of your team packing up now the weekend was over. Neither of you cared, you simply couldn’t get enough of each other.
When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but notice the cheeky glint in his eyes. You let your hand move to rest on his jaw, brushing your thumb across the stubble. “That sounds like an offer I simply can’t refuse.”
***
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***
The skies were blue when you touched down in Silverstone, another favourite - a classic; the Tifosi showing wasn’t as big as it used to be but there were enough flashes of red amongst the crowds for you to feel their support. But, much to the disappointment of the Mercedes and Mclaren fans filling the grandstands, you and your team were currently on track to win the whole thing. You’d spent more time than you cared to admit trying to figure out what the earliest race you could win the championship at despite your slow start to the season.
But with Charles, Max and Carlos all having an equally impressive score sheet, you honestly had no idea which way it was going to go - you could only hope it would be in your favour. You’d worked so hard to fight for not only the championship, but the respect you deserved that you knew that you couldn’t stop now. Everything was to play for and you couldn’t back down now.
SC - Welcome one, welcome all to the Formula 1 Lenovo British Grand Prix here at Silverstone, the sun is shining down on all of us Martin and it looks set to be a good race. With the Ferraris and Redbulls occupying the two front rows, it will be a challenge for anyone else to claim victory. Our Championship leader shares the front row with Max Verstappen, who is gaining with each race on her and her teammate Charles Leclerc.
MB - It definitely is one to watch, the battle between the Prancing Horses and Bulls has been thrilling so far this season. I can’t wait to see how this all plays out and with Y/N having claimed podiums in her last six races, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her back on that top step.
SC - I’d put money on it if I was a betting man. Her performance leading up to this point has been something special. But with Max picking up the pace, I think he’s definitely her biggest competitor right now.
MB - Now Crofty, I wouldn’t write young Leclerc off so quickly, he is second place right now.
SC - Well, I’ll guess we’ll just have to wait and see as the grid lines up for the start of the race. The British Grand Prix is about to start, engines are revving… and its lights out, and away we go!
You felt breathless as you pulled into parc ferme, what a race. Despite your win, you couldn’t help but think about Gyanyu, George and Alex - the crash at the start was scary and you were lucky to have not been a part of it with a third of the grid getting tangled up. As much as you loved to win, it was always a bittersweet feeling when others were potentially hurt.
As you climbed out of the car, you made an effort to try and catch as many of the other drivers you knew had been part of the incident as you could as they made their way through parc ferme. You immediately wrapped your arms around Seb as he climbed out of the car, your former teammate giving you a gentle chuckle in response - promising that he was okay. So you glanced around the crowd for your childhood friend, Pierre smirking as he saw you approach. “Aw, coming to check on me?”
“Don’t make me regret it, Gasly.” You chuckled, pulling him into a hug. “But if you’ll excuse me, I did just win. Catch you later.”
You tried to catch Charles before he ducked away but you were ushered towards Lewis and Carlos for the podium interviews. With your fresher tires brought on by Esteban’s safety car, he wasn’t able to hold you off… or Lewis… or Carlos. So he was understandably frustrated. But you were still happy and wanted to celebrate with the team and you were sure once he’d had his moment of annoyance, he’d be happy for you too.
It was hard to have that same attitude when the roles were reversed the following week in Austria, and it was you who barely missed out on the podium and it all came to a head in your driver’s room. “I think we need to talk.”
“Oh?” Charles gently took off his first place cap and placed it on the coffee table. “Everything okay?”
You took a deep breath. “I don’t know why we haven’t had this conversation before but I feel like we need to talk about what happened this week and last week… when one of us wins and the other doesn’t. I think we need to find the balance of being able to understand how the other one feels versus celebrating the winner.”
“Yeah, yeah I get that. Well…” He approached you slowly, placing his hands on your hips - giving a gentle squeeze. “The winner can be sympathetic and the other can be supportive, but if one of us has a particularly bad race when the other wins then we just check in on how they feel first before jumping for joy at the win.”
“We’re both in with a chance of winning this whole thing, we have to promise not to let that get in the way of what we have.” You looped your arms around his neck, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “I'm really happy with you and I don’t want me beating you to ruin that.”
“Oh, you’re gonna beat me are you?” Charles chuckled. “Well, best of luck, mon amour. You’re gonna need it.”
***
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Leading up the summer break, things stayed on the up for you but not so much for Charles the agreement between the two of you more in force than ever. Hungary was the last race before you could enjoy a relaxing few weeks away from the paddock but with Charles’ DNF in France the weekend before he’d lost 2nd in the WDC to Max, the Dutchman now 5 points ahead thanks to his victory and it was clearly bothering him. You were soaring ahead and he was starting to be left behind - you 33 points ahead.
Charles spent as much time as he could with fans, making sure not one was missed - chatting away, taking photos and bringing as many smiles to their faces as he could. He would always be the tifosi’s golden boy; despite you leading, he would always have a special place in their hearts and you couldn’t blame them. There was something charming and gentle about him, he was impossible to dislike. The way he avidly listened to every word fans said to him, the look on his face full of genuine interest. He was so kind and you knew someday he was going to live up to the massive expectations they had all put on his shoulders - you wanted to win the championship, but someday it was going to be his turn and you knew that he would have their support every step of the way.
As you finally stepped away from the crowds, you linked your fingers with his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze - noticing his deflated stature as you walked towards the motorhome. Neither have you qualified on pole and his hopes of winning were being diminished by the minute. “You looked like you were having a good time with the fans, what’s the matter? Talk to me…”
“I hate to say it, amour, but now that you’re off ahead in the distance - I’m gonna have to play the role of second driver.” He grumbled softly. “I really want you to do well, y/n, I do, but I want it to be fair.”
A soft sigh left your lips and you turned him to face you, his green eyes locked on yours. “I won’t let it be unfair. I’m gonna talk to my engineers and let them know how I feel about it.. When I beat you, it’s all gonna be on my own merit.”
The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile, shaking his head a little. Your heart skipped a beat at his laughter, his strong arms looping around your middle. “And when I beat you, it’ll be because I deserve it too.”
“Exactly. We’re equals.” You lent up to press a kiss to his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Last race until the summer break, we just have to get through this and then you and I can escape to your yacht and make the most of the privacy.”
“You are beyond tempting.” He purred, pulling you in closer. “If we weren’t surrounded by all these prying eyes, I’d have you exactly where I want you.”
A giggle escaped you, you raised a playful brow at him. “Well, then what are we waiting for? Your driver’s room has a lock on the door, doesn’t it?”
Your teammate groaned, his nose nudging against yours before he kissed you with even more intensity than before - not caring about the cameras or poor staff members walking past you both to get into the building. The butterflies erupted in your stomach as he smiled against your lips, not wasting a second more before he tugged you into the building towards his driver room. He pressed your back against the door as he closed it, his pupils blown with lust as they scanned your figure. “As pretty as you look in red…”
“I’d look better in nothing?” You teased, slipping your hands under his polo - he shivered as your cold hands ran across his skin. “C’mon, Charles. You can do better than that.”
“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, dropping his voice to a whisper as his lips brushed across your skin. “Tu es délicieux(1)…je t’aime de tout mon coeur(2).”
You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. “God, you speaking French really does something to me.. Don’t stop.”
He tugged you away from the door as he pulled your polo over your head, lips only breaking from your skin to mutter filth in french. You were weak at the knees as he pulled back to look at you - his lips shiny with your gloss. You reached up to brush your thumb across his bottom lip before tugging on his chin gently to bring him back into a kiss as he began to work on the button of your jeans.
“Did you lock the door?” You managed to get out, feeling breathless but your boyfriend seemed relentless, grunting in response as he dropped to his knees to pull your jeans over your hips, tugging you lightly so you thumped down on the couch with a soft oof. “Charles, the door.”
“You’re killing me.” He whined, running his hands up the insides of your thighs - pushing them apart. “Je ne peux pas supporter d'être loin de toi ne serait-ce qu’un instant(3), amour.”
You draped a leg over his shoulder. “If anyone walks in, I’ll run you off the track later.”
His lips curved into a devilish smirk. “Deal.”
****
charles_leclerc posted to his instagram stories
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***
Next part >>>
(1) you’re delicious
(2) I love you with all my heart
(3) I can't stand being away from you for even a moment
I hope you enjoyed ❤️ thank you for all your continued support regardless of my terrible posting schedule
Want to be notified when I post? Join our discord, head over to #reaction-roles and click the sunflower 🌻
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itsnotmeep · 3 months
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LOOSE THREADS
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This is my first time writing sorry for the mistakes and it is unedited with that please enjoy:) Gojo x reader (angst) ARRANGED MARRIAGE
PROLOUGE Red strings of fate, it is funny how a string as thin as a loose thread of clothing can connect two individuals forever. People romanticize the idea of a soulmate, finding comfort that there is someone out there who is molded to fit them. Yet they forget that love is the worst curse of them all and fate is cruel. When both are in play and the strings are tied it is inevitable that tragedy will loom near.
“Hey Megumi, what's up with Gojo and (L/N) sensei?” the pink-haired boy asked. Immediately catching the attention of all the students who were taking a break from sparing with each other.
  Panda who was previously showing off his new hand bands then added “ Yeah, even I don’t know”, then with a mischievous grin on his face “ Is something sneaky going on between them? Surely you would know, you knew them the longest right”. His question would be answered with Maki wacking him on the head.
“Stop with the conspiracy theories!” Panda began rubbing his head and Maki continued rubbing her chin. “Their dynamic is interesting though, he is unusually cold to her.”
“Cold is one thing but imagine my surprise when I caught him secretly asking Shoko sensei to check her after she came back from her mission. Men are always so weird” Nobara shared, murmuring the last phase to herself. 
“Whoa you were withholding that precious information from us the whole time. Are you serious?” exclaimed Itadori, withholding information himself. 
He recalls meeting the (h/c) sorcerer the first time after his “death.” In which Gojo sensei had put her in charge of him but never acknowledged her in the process simply stating “they will watch you” without an introduction. Before continuing to explain the curse toy as if she was never there in the first place. Yet the observant boy also caught his albino teacher take a long glance at the (h/c) sorcerer as he was leaving and she was making herself comfortable on the couch.
Nobara comments would open up the floodgates and before long the two first-years and three second-years would pester Megumi non-stop. The boy could only sigh, realizing that it was a subject in which he wouldn't be able to escape.
“It’s complicated, they are married” and with that the whole field erupted. 
( FLASHBACK )
They would first meet on a spring day, when (y/n) was just a young girl at the age of 7 and Gojo at the age of 8. The albino boy was well known in the community, not only coming from one of the major clans but his birth had also shifted the plain of the cursed world, beginning the age of stronger sorcerers and curses.
(l/n) clan was relatively new, emerging as a formidable clan roughly 2-3 generations ago. While other clans prided themselves on their offensive abilities, the (l/n) clan specialized on binding and trapping curses. So when (y/n) started showing signs of a curse technique of being able to manipulate threads and traps like that of a spider, she immediately became the pride of the clan. With her cousins and older siblings falling behind, she was branded with the future.
Further emphasize when the Gojo clan reach out to orchestrate a meeting between their youngest and her. This was a key way in which the (l/n) clan could establish themselves and without a second thought agreed, sealing (y/n)’s and Gojo’s fate.
Enamored would be the word that (y/n) would describe her first meeting. She could recall it vividly. The morning was hectic with her mother and aunts festering her, making sure her hair was done and her clothes were proper. Followed by her uncles checking on her and her father watching over constantly. What dampened her mood the most was when the head of the family, her grandmother, would call her over, nagging her continuously about the importance of the meeting. What was so special about meeting a boy? She had made many male friends, so what was the problem?
The ride there only made her annoyance turn into anger.  The sunlight was hitting her face a little too much, not only making her feel hot but irritated as no shifting could prevent the sun from hitting her. Her half tied hair was too tight and she could feel the urge to itch her hair, but doing so would ruin it. There was also an itch right on the back of her neck, where the tag of her dress seemed to be.
The amount of grown ups in the car made the ride stuffy and her aunt was leaning too close for comfort. They could have taken another car but her grandma had insisted that everyone could fit. Instead the car consisted of her grandma and the direct blood line which included her dad, aunt, uncle, older brother and herself. Her mom, younger sibling, significant others of her aunt/uncles and cousin were left at home.
The moment her uncle had announced they were at the Gojo estate the little girl slammed the door open, wanting to feel the breeze hit her. Hoping that it could even help the itch on her scalp. It wasn’t so long before a maid came to greet them and they were slowly led around the estate. 
Before she knew it she was faced with a room filled with elders, following what had been instilled in her. She immediately greeted everyone with a bow and introduced herself after her family. “Hello, my name is (l/n) (y/n), second born to (fathers name) and first granddaughter of (grandmother's name) . It is a pleasure and honor to meet you”. 
“She is well-mannered and her cursed energy is good,” one remarked.
“Her face is a little chubby but hopefully she will grow into her looks” another added.
“A little short though and somewhat short legs don’t you think” continued the other.
The elders continued, some even came close to personally examining her themselves looking at her fingers, touching her hair, pulling her skin. It wasn’t long before the oldest spoke up “That's enough, maid please escort her to the garden. I think we made a decision. It is time for the grown ups to talk” The oldest one walked up to her and patted on her head telling her “Why don't you go have a snack?”  She bowed and followed the maid not before seeing the elders whispering into the ear of another maid.
The garden was stunning, filled with blooming flowers with a pavilion sitting in the middle. Within the pavilion was a floor table with 4 cushions to sit on, although the flowers were beautiful. What caught her eye was the traditional snacks decorated the counter. With the hell she went through she deserved a snack and instantly took a seat and started snacking.
“Aren’t you eating a little fast, the food isn't going to run away from you” before she could snort out a reply, she was faced with cerulean eyes seemingly inches from her face. His close proximity made her heart slightly race and a blush to creep on her cheeks but she couldn’t look away. His eyes were the prettiest thing she had ever seen in her life even today nothing had outshine them in her mind. His eyelashes were so long and framed so beautifully that it was as if Michelangelo himself had meticulously worked to place each one perfectly on him. 
Taking that moment of distraction the boy had flicked her forehead snapping her out of her trance. “ So you’re the girl they were talking about huh. All this talk but you are weak”. (y/n) was flabbergasted wanting to yell back but started choking on her food. The boy's laughter filled the air as the girl continued to cough, reaching her hands out for tea to smooth her throat.
As she finally settled herself the boy took a seat across from her. “You’re not so great yourself for the boy who changed the world, you ummm… look like a blind white rat.” The boy’s face shifted taking a dark turn, (y/n) felt her hands become sweaty fear and nerves slowly overtook her as she wished to have just ignored him.
All before his expression changed to one of teasing “ Your interesting, no one had the nerve, names is Gojo Satoru”
“(l/n) (y/n)”
“Whoa you have fat cheeks kind of like a hippo”
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”
The banter continued on for an hour, Satoru teasing the girl and the girl arguing back. Having grown up surrounded by those who feared him, the girl's openness had drawn her to him, giving him the breath of fresh air he had needed.
What the girl didn’t know was how his eyes had captured her, her whole being had captured him. He wasn’t sure if it was his need for some company or her pure beauty. He would never tell anyone but from the moment he first saw her in her dress, hair slightly messy from the breeze, stuffing her check with food he had felt the need to go towards her, like an invisible string railing him to her.
It wasn’t long before (y/n) noticed how Satoru didn't eat any of the snacks but just moving them around. “Why aren’t you eating any of these” Satoru would answer by throwing one of them at her “What is your problem” The boy laughter rang once more “You should have seen your face”
After calming down he replied “They always serve these treats, the elders like them so a variety is always served here” The little girl looked at the table noticing how the treats were not ones that were sweet, it made sense the elder preferred savory and delicate flavors. It made her recall all the times in which her dad or mother would tell her things were too sweet. For a 7 year old it made her feel bad for him because she could imagine living a life without ever tasting anything as sweet like cake or cookies.
Recalling how she had kept a piece of chocolate in the small pocket of her dress, she pulled it out. (y/n) had originally planned to eat it after they left the estate.Yet thinking about the possible sad life of the teasing boy made her give it to him.
Reluctantly reaching out her hand she said “Here try this”. Satoru looks at her hand curiously before reaching forward and taking the candy. Without sparing a second, he opened the wrapper, sniffed it and put it in his mouth. The sweetness coated his mouth and he was in love. With his mouth filled, he asked “Do you have anymore?Give them to me now!” 
The girl slightly giggled before saying “You should say please, and no, I don't have any more but next time I can bring some. I assume you haven't tried much sweet stuff huh. I can bring a bunch of new stuff next time we meet.” (y/n) had failed to notice the blush that her giggles had painted on Satoru’s face. 
In her naiveté, she noted “Wow you must have loved the sweet dearly because your ears are red”. It was met with a rice cracker hitting her forehead.
The conversation continues with her describing all the desserts she could think of and how he should try them. The boy listened longingly and told her to bring them next time she came. Fully aware that he could easily order a maid to get them for him. Yet he had wanted her to come back and the promise of sweets was just a plus. 
Before long (y/n) fathers voice rang out calling her. She hastily got up but not before promising to bring cookies next time she saw him.
“Don’t forget your promise alright?” he put his pinky out looking into her eyes.
( FLASHBACK END )
“WHAT HOW LONG WERE YOU GONNA KEEP THAT BOMB OF INFORMATION FROM US?” Itadori exploded
Panda followed, “I thought we were friends.” dramatically, putting his paw over his chest.
“MEN ARE TERRIBLE! Why would he treat her like that? my opinions on Gojo sensei are dirt now” Nobara added.
“Yeah, I knew that Sensei definitely had a problem but isn't this much” the pink-head exclaimed disappointed.
“Look guys I don’t know what happen for sure but it's complicated” Megumi said
“Yeah we shouldn’t speculate, plus being a sorcerer is already challenging in itself, we knew when we signed up.” Maki shared.
Although they all had much to say, Maki's voice resonated and they ended the topic. Speaking of the devil, not a minute later they heard the voice of (l/n) sensei. ”Are you guys done training? I brought some snacks to enjoy” All the students felt some pity for the older women but found some spirit and shouted at her thanks as they cleared their stuff and meeted her. As they walked to the snacks, Megumi walked in the back with the teacher. He had known her for 10 years now and couldn’t help but feel protective for the women who had shown up through the years to help him.
“You okay Megumi”
“Yeah let's go eat” the dark-haired boy mumbled. 
Thats the end i planned for this to be a series but im not sure yet. Once again sorry for the grammer mistakes it hasnt been edited
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cantalouupe · 10 months
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having thots…..of cockwarming puppy luc……perhaps as a punishment…..
so sorry for this, it is not great but i wanted to post something and i've been eyeing up this ask since it was first sent to me </3
if there are mistakes i am sorry
nsfw!!! puppyboy!diluc x gn!reader
cockwarming, "punishments", diluc has ears and a tail and is referred to as a "hybrid" once, PUPPY DILUC
It was a little cruel, maybe. The tight crushing heat, enveloping him in a warm, wet cocoon that set his body temperature perilously high—gods, he wouldn’t accidentally set anything on fire, would he? He always feels like he has no control over himself when he’s with you, brain gone haywire like a computer being reprogrammed; or worse, like a virus, taking over the entire system and destroying everything, devolving until all that was left was you. 
He’s impatient, always in haste to get moving, to get off. You were surprised he’s lasted as long as he had. Usually, he would be ceaseless in his squirming and whining, asking you over and over if he could have you the way he wanted. Today, he seemed caught up in the current situation, sitting hard and still beneath you, not speaking until you deliberately shifted atop him, jostling him inside slightly.  
“Please,” he begs, “let me.” 
“Not yet, Diluc.” 
The tone of his voice twists into something frustrated, hands balling into fists, kept uselessly by his sides. You warned him when this had begun, a tsked “no touching” when he’d try to mold his hands against the smooth curve of your body. As touchy as he was, you note his restraint in not lifting his hands above his thighs, and mentally praise him, almost going to press your own hand against his face, touch his soft ears atop his head, and tell him how good he was being—no, there would be another time for that.  
Still, you can’t help but admire him. His obedience was something you reveled in; knowing someone as big and powerful as he is, willing and eager to wait for your permission, work for your rewards, and live for your praise. He could overpower you quite easily, if he wanted to. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it be the last, but despite this piece of information you are both aware of, he chooses not to. The need to be good outweighed the limited, finite pleasure he could chase for him. Though he’d been a little slow, mind lagging behind from all the time spent with the constant pressure of you around him and perched atop him, he understands that there would be consequences, ‘worse’ than that which he was being subjected to now. An unsatisfying, incomplete pleasure is more favorable than none at all. 
You begin to grow suspicious of him, though, when time ticks sluggishly by and his begging does not evolve into something more desperate. With careful movements you shift again, and you hear it, the hitch in his uneven breath, like a gasp at the unexpected movement. He waits for it, anticipating each subtle gyration and adjustment and meeting it with a small noise. You realize, a little too excitedly for someone dishing out a punishment, that he was even more affected by this than you could have imagined—he would end up coming from this, from you punishing him, cockwarming him for minutes and minutes and minutes, until time felt endless and the place where the two of you joined together became a fuzzily comfortable sensation. You thought he’d cry, make his sweet, pathetic noises while trying to convince you to let him have his way, but he’d managed a way around it, phasing through the punishment as if it wasn’t one in the first place. 
“You’re not supposed to be getting off on this.” 
If he does hear, he doesn’t respond, too busy preparing himself for the inevitable fall that he craves so badly. He starts to tense, head tilting back ever so slightly, body arching and growing taught as the pleasure mounted and overwhelmed him. His mouth is parted a bit, just enough for him to pant out hot puffs of air while he struggled to breathe properly, and it entices you, pulling you in until your breaths were mingled. You shouldn’t kiss him, really, not when you’re supposed to be disciplining him—it wouldn’t matter much now, seeing as this is barely a punishment any longer—so you don’t, but you stay close, leaning into his space. 
He whimpers a strained “’m g’nna come,” and you know that it’s too late to stop it. Pulling yourself off him would only push him there faster, the side of you slick and stimulating on his sensitive cock after being still for so long.  
Despite your plans being foiled, you’re a little awed. With just the sensation from him being inside you, no movement at all, he managed to reach his end easily; almost as easily as if he was fucking you normally. You’re still while you watch it, but decide to lift up a smidge so he can grind up while he works through his slowly built orgasm, letting him have these ending moments to move. As he rides out the waves, filling you to the brim with everything he had to give, you belatedly realize that that you’ve practically rewarded him, let him get away with exactly what he wasn’t supposed to do throughout this. He would never learn at this rate, with the way each punishment turning into a reward for him, a newly developed kink that’d be crossed off the list of potential ideas of acts that could work as a form of discipline.  
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xxlovelynovaxx · 3 months
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The whole point is you don't know if they're fem cis men. You don't know if they're trans men. You don't know if they're trans women deeply closeted for their safety. You don't know if they're trans women whom misgendering will drive them further AWAY from their egg cracking and harm them. You. Don't. Know.
Misgendering is bad. "Clocking" someone is bad. Making assumptions about someone's identity and then turning it into a "joke" is bad. What's funny about misgendering someone?
Also, this discourse is literally in the context of the queer community. It's literally in the context of the queer community having an antimasculinity and gender essentialism problem. It's also in the context of gender stereotypes and the fact that smelling like flowers or painting your nails making you a girl doesn't become less of a harmless stereotype because it's a trans woman saying it. Like oh wow we went full circle from "girls play with dolls and like pink" to "trans girls play with dolls and like pink". Congrats on alienating every non-femme trans woman and femme trans non-woman.
It's not fucking transmisogyny to tell you not to misgender people or assume liking frilly things makes someone a girl. It's not fucking transmisogyny to tell you that the QUEER and especially TRANS communities have an issue with valorizing femininity while demonizing masculinity. It's not fucking transmisogyny to acknowledge this while acknowledging that actual transmisogyny demonizes transfemininity while infantilizing and erasing transmasculinity.
I'm putting the word transmisogyny on a high shelf until the rest of y'all learn what it actually fucking means. Transmisogyny isn't when an entitled white trans woman gets called out for doing actual harm. Like "joking" about misgendering someone. Or "joking" about being racist and going through a "nazi phase". Or "joking" about "raping cuntboys". It might be affirming that some queer people take your white woman's tears at face value, but here's the thing:
You're lovely women who deserve to have every access to transition, to resources, to be treated equally to cis people. You're just really fucking shitty people. You're bigots, you're cruel, you're cliquey, and you're like every boring high school mean girl who never grew out of pettily bullying other vulnerable people to get over the pathetic inadequacies of your own life circumstances.
People like that deserve community and kindness too. They also deserve not to have their behavior tolerated and to have to deal with compassionate rehabilitative justice. Those things can both be true, especially when the people they are hurting explain until our throats are raw how they're hurting us and they just keep doing it. Because the thing is, it's not actually about any "societal pressure to transition", and the fact you think it is shows you haven't listened to a single actual criticism anyone has had of the whole "egg discourse".
Other people have already explained more patiently and eloquently than me what exactly the problem with calling someone an egg is. I'd think you'd be concerned minimally with how it hurts actual transfem eggs more than anything, even if you don't care about how it very much does hurt transmascs and GNC cis men and the movement of transfeminism as a damn whole to insist "haha liking fem things=woman".
Explain what's funny about that. I'll wait.
Anyway, this was reblogged from someone I long ago considered a friend, someone I thought was better than this. I really thought most trans people were better than this when I first entered the community. I still hope some are. You deserve to be told that this is wrong, because you deserve to be reminded that you're better people than this kind of bullshit.
-your utterly over it neighborhood intersex transneufemmasc
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